Why Is There Something Rather Than Nothing?

There is a new book out by journalist and former philosophy grad student Jim Holt called Why Does the World Exist? It’s worth reading if you’re interested in questions like that.

Nowadays, when people ask why the world exists they are generally asking why the Big Bang occurred. Unfortunately, nobody knows. The most common answers are that either some random quantum event or some higher being made it happen. Some physicists think that our universe is just a small part of reality and that the existence of a vast, possibly infinite, collection of other universes explains why ours is here and/or why ours is the way it is. 

As soon as a particular cause or reason for our universe to exist is suggested, however, it is natural to ask why that cause or reason is the explanation, rather than some other cause or reason. Why are the laws of quantum mechanics in effect? Where did God come from? Where did all those other universes come from?

This is why the answer provided by a Buddhist monk at the very end of the Why Does the World Exist? is my personal favorite: “As a Buddhist, … he believes that the universe had no beginning….The Buddhist doctrine of a beginning-less universe makes the most metaphysical sense….A billion causes could not make the universe come into existence out of what does not exist”.

Perhaps the reality that exists beyond our universe or that preceded the Big Bang (the super-universe, the multiverse, the quantum foam, whatever it might be) always existed and always will. It simply was. Or is. It never came into existence, so no cause, reason or explanation is necessary or even possible. Perhaps it’s cyclical. Perhaps it’s not. Perhaps it’s always changing. Perhaps it isn’t. But it had no beginning and might have no end.

The great 17th century philosopher Spinoza referred to all of existence as “God, or Nature” (Deus, sive Natura): “That eternal and infinite being we call God, or Nature”. I prefer “Nature” to “God”. To Spinoza, it was the same thing and it was eternal.

The Idealistic Way to Vote

Sean from Boston posted a comment on Paul Krugman’s blog the other day. He said that he had been wavering about voting for Obama, but events at the Democratic convention involving references to God and Jerusalem in the party platform had pushed him over the edge. He was so offended by what happened with the platform that he is now going to vote for a third-party candidate. 

Perhaps Sean believes that voting is a sacred act that should reflect his highest ideals. He clearly believes that voting is an opportunity to express his opinion regarding who is the very best candidate.

But those two propositions are not necessarily equivalent. Voting is not an opinion poll. It is not a question of our being asked who, in an ideal world, we would prefer. It is a method for selecting someone to hold office. By voting, we do perform a sacred act. But it is an act with consequences. We should vote for the person whose election would best reflect our highest ideals and who also has a chance of being elected. 

In 2012, there are only two people who might be elected President. We already know that Barack Obama will win Massachusetts, so it doesn’t really matter who Sean from Boston votes for, thanks to the disgrace that is the Electoral College.

In 2000, however, a significant number of voters in Florida chose to vote for the candidate who best reflected their ideals. They knew that Ralph Nader wasn’t going to win, but they weren’t sufficiently concerned about that.

As a result of their decision to express their opinion on who the very best President would be, these idealistic voters were treated to a President who trampled all over their highest ideals (peace, truth, justice, etc.).

The fact is that there are other ideals more important than voting for your ideal candidate. Voting is a sacred act that should reflect ALL of your highest ideals.

If you happen to live in Ohio or Florida or one of those other crucial states, therefore, you should consider whether Barack Obama or Mitt Romney would make the best President, according to your highest ideals. And then vote accordingly.

Illness

After what doctors call a “complication” from a medical procedure, I’ve just spent three days in the hospital. I haven’t been this sick since having pneumonia many years ago.

One thing I was reminded of is how difficult it can be to sleep in a hospital bed, while connected to various tubes, with inflatable straps around your legs to prevent blood clots, the bed undulating to prevent bedsores, high-tech machinery beeping, chugging and whooshing, and periodic visits from the nurses and technicians. They should call it a “patient platform” instead of a “bed”.

The more significant thing I’ve been reminded of is how illness can change your perception of the world. Having an abnormal perspective makes the world seem very different. What is normally interesting, enjoyable or possible isn’t anymore.

I’m very glad that I’ll recover soon. I wouldn’t want this unpleasant state to start feeling typical, the way being healthy becomes a memory for people with chronic illness. Being ill for a long time doesn’t mean that it’s normal to be ill — you can still compare your state to a healthy one. But maybe you can adjust after a while, your abnormal perspective becoming “normal for you”. The world might seem interesting and enjoyable again.

I don’t want to find out if I could get used to this particular perspective. Apparently all I need is some more hemoglobin and the world will again seem normal.

This Whole World

Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life is surely a beautiful film, but it raises the question whether this world of ours is a good place to live. Is it a vale of tears, the best of all possible worlds or something in between?

Any generalization to the effect that the whole world is either good or bad seems misguided. Overall, the whole world just is. There is no other real world to compare it to (certainly none that we can observe).

When people used to say that the world is a vale of tears, they meant that this world is one of pain and suffering compared to the next world, the heavenly one. Although we can imagine worlds that are better or worse, like heaven or hell, that’s really irrelevant. We’re stuck with this one.

Or else lucky to have this one. But really neither.

We probably think, however, that living in this world is better than not living at all. That’s the common point of view, although not universal. In this case, we aren’t trying to compare this world to some other one. We’re just concluding that being here is better than not being anywhere.

Brian Wilson offered a positive view of the situation 40 years ago: