Death and Evolution: The Varying Degrees of Knowing

In science, in life, there are facts. “Facts” are ideas that a large percentage of the educated population has accepted for the time-being as pretty damn likely. The evidence for these facts comes either from our own common sense and life experience or from the consensus of the scientific community.

Two Examples: Death and Evolution

Often times these facts are treated casually as obvious things. I’d like to look at two examples:

  1. Each of us is going to die one day.
  2. We evolved with chimpanzees and gorillas from a common ape ancestor who lived about 6 million years ago.

The first fact is an example of something we know from our own common sense observations. The second fact is one we know from the consensus of the scientific community.

These two simple pieces of information (along with several others) happen to be ones that have occupied my mind from when I first realized school isn’t just a place I go to and try to get an “A”, but is a place where I get to learn things about stuff I’m interested in.

The Philosophical and the Pragmatic

My relationship with these facts has evolved. The death question leads to the usual  questions… What is the purpose of it all? Where does the sense of morality come from? The existentialist bunch (from Dostoevsky to Nietzsche to Sartre to Kafka) addressed this over and over and over in their work, in various forms, as if through sheer quantity of words they could somehow get closer to an answer that would satisfy them (and us). And as I read more and more my “knowing” of this fact of death changed.

I think it’s easy to dismiss a teenager’s view of such subjects, but I believe I knew the fact of death most deeply at about age 19. Because of how much focus I dedicated to reading existentialist literature at the time, the overwhelming uncertainty and absurdity of it all was deeply internalized by my mind. The feeling of it was most distinct. That’s when I really “knew” it. I would hit moments of real fear of knowing so little about myself and the world around me. Today, death is less philosophical, and more pragmatic like the knowledge that a car (even if it’s a Toyota) will eventually break down. You repair it, you take care of it, and deal with problems as they arise. Sometimes the more I learn the more I know, and sometimes the more I learn the more tired I grow of caring. The knowledge that can fascinate us can also break us. You have to tread carefully and purposefully with such challenging ideas.

Early Humans vs Modern Humans

The same goes for the second fact of evolution. When I read about early humans struggling to develop simple stone tools, hitting rock against rock to make a sharper rock, I am filled with awe. It challenges the common sense brain I use for getting out of bed in the morning, for making breakfast, for going to work, having goals, making money, spending money, talking to friends, etc. The view of the “life force” over millennia puts the daily life of modern humans into an absurd light.  Perhaps “awe” is not the right word. I oscillate between fascination at the glimpse of the mysterious around us and fear of the immense uncertainty of it.

Varying Degrees of Knowing

Most of us “know” the basic facts of reality today. But for most of us the relationship with these facts varies and constantly changes in depth, perspective, and how it effects the way we approach the activities of life.

You Are Not Special, Life is Meaningless, and There is No Absolute Morality

School is out for the summer. I know this because there’s cars parked around the school next to my apartment.

So perhaps there is no better time than now to address the meaning of life and the pursuit of “success”. A commencement address video that’s been making its rounds on YouTube grounds the soaring hot balloon of people’s hopeful dreams quite succinctly:
“You are not special”.

The topic of meaning always struck me as profoundly absurd, as have most big “why” questions. So for me, even in my darker moments, I tend to find humor in it rather than sadness. The “you are not special” speech is simply an entertaining reminder that you should do everything you do for the pure challenge of it and because you love it.

Of course, such high-minded discourse is the luxury of the middle class, of those with food on the table, access to clean drinking water, and a good doctor.

Much like the speaker in the video, I’m at a loss of practical recommendations except that  you should read as much as possible.

“Without a God and without a master the weight of days is dreadful”

The challenging line in the title is from “The Fall” by Albert Camus. I’ll let it stand on its own (where it belongs) for the most part. The quote is not about religion, but about where we find meaning, and that we have to find meaning somewhere, anywhere, in order to survive.

I usually stop for a minute when the old existential question about life’s meaning hits me on the head. More often than not it happens on a long walk back home from somewhere far away (where much beer was served) at some godforsaken hour. I stop, and kind of chuckle at the absurdity of all my little pursuits. The feeling fades, and the urgency of some new task or deadline takes over.

I like reading Camus, Nietzsche, Hesse, and all the folks disturbed throughout their productive lifetimes by questions to which they never really found satisfactory answers. They’re struggling with the impossibly uncertain moment of death. They’re lab mice that stop to ponder the maze on their way to the cheese, and in so doing have shaken the very essence of what it means to enjoy a piece of cheese.

It’s all very humbling, just like the experience of talking through a research problem with someone much smarter than me, just like grappling with someone much more skilled than me.

Staring at the Wall for Inspiration and Innovation

The world is full of distractions. We try to deal with it by designing productivity systems (e.g. Getting Things Done), when for many people (or at least myself) what is missing is not a good system but some quality wall-starin’ time.

By that I mean long continuous blocks of time in which to think. Focus on one problem, and don’t go off on mental tangents, indulge is technology-enabled distractions, etc. Think about the plan for the day, about how to accomplish the most important task in front of you at work, but also think about more general things like where you are in life, what your life-long goals are, and even more broadly the why questions that can be found unanswered in most existential philosophy literature.

That’s what is too often missing for me… time away from the computer, from deadlines, from rushing from point A to point B, or even from brainless relaxation. It’s a time for the mouse to pause it’s long trek through the maze and ponder the cheese.

Life on the Edge of the Unknown

I’m in awe of the idea that 10 to 40 thousand years ago our early ancestors pushed on into the unknown across the the Bering land bridge (that used to link Siberia and Alaska) through difficult weather conditions to populate the North American continent.

Of course, they did not see it as some epic journey. They took it one day at a time, surviving, following huntable or gatherable food sources. But their way of life, to me, is one of existing amidst overwhelming uncertainty. I have no doubt that the existential concern of “What’s for dinner?” was enough to keep their minds and bodies occupied.

Still, it’s hard, from the bird’s eye perspective of the 21st century not to appreciate the force of life that fueled the journey against what I can only imagine were insurmountable odds.