Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Unreal Time

By Ellen Proctor

   Who is it? The phone rings, every hour on the hour. Actually, at about five minutes before the hour. I don't know who it is, so I call it, “It.” Whoever “It” is, its clock must be a little fast.
   I wonder if this is by accident or design.
   I set my own clocks to an unknown time, rather fast, because I am afraid of the humiliation of walking into someplace late. Not that I have anyplace to go, really. Still, it helps to know that it's always a little earlier than I think it is when I look at my clock. But if I want to know the real time, I have only to look out my bathroom window at the bank clock downtown. The problem with this is, sometimes I look out to see that it's 11:96.
   I wonder if this is by accident or design.
   I think some prankster has hold of my life. It calls, listens to the wild static on my phone, and hangs up after I answer. Or perhaps it's expecting someone else to answer. Sometimes, when I walk in the door, the apartment has the air of someone having just walked out. I begin to wonder whether someone else lives here when I'm not home, in some furtive and elaborate time-share arrangement.
   The local high school thinks someone else lives here. Some kid named Eric. I get a lot of telephone calls for him, sometimes from high school girls, but more often from the school. I tell them over and over that Eric doesn't live here, that this is not Eric's phone number, that I don't even know Eric, but they don't seem to believe me.
    The girls keep calling. The school never removes my phone number from his files. Enough people think this is Eric's phone number that I almost believe it myself. I know a little about Eric now. Girls like him. He doesn't seem to like school much. Instead of going to school, maybe he spends his time here instead. If he does, I wish he'd clean up the place a bit. He probably just sits here amid the clutter of unpaid bills and unwashed dishes, reading my books.
   Instead of cleaning, I sit, thinking about it. Who is It? My clock says it's 12:34. I'm afraid to look out the window, afraid it'll be 11:96. I'm afraid to look at the phone, afraid it'll ring. I'm afraid to leave, afraid Eric will come in and resume his own domestic life among my belongings.
   Of course, I don't really believe any of this.
   Or at least, not most of it. Eric's real phone number could differ from mine by one digit. These people could simply be misdialing. The every-hour phone caller could be a very persistent Someone with a wrong number, or perhaps Eric himself. Eric calling hourly to see whether I'm home, whether it's safe for him to come in, whether the coast is clear. The bank clock is simply broken, of course, although perhaps it could somehow feel me looking at it. Giving me a sly wink from its electronic eye. Signals from this prankster.
   I know people who rely on their “higher power” to get them through the minute crises of life. I don't think I can rely on mine. I think that this prankster is what passes for my own higher power. I think its name is Eric. It likes to play with time. I almost believe it's what's causing the roaring static on my phone. I wonder whether my phone is actually linked to some alternate dimension, where someone named Eric actually lives at this address, and where 11:96 is an actual time of day.
   Of course, I don't really believe any of this.
   What I really need to do is to set my clocks to the correct time, stop answering my phone, and go out of the apartment.
   Yes, I need to go out of my apartment and hide outside, where I can see both the door and the fire escape. Where I can see without being seen. I need to lie in wait for It … or Eric. I also need to sneak up on that bank clock. The trouble with the clock is that it's not consistent. Sometimes it displays a time such as 3:42, just like any other self-respecting clock. Sometimes my phone rings and it's actually for me. Sometimes there isn't even any static on the line.
   I wonder if this is by accident or design.
   I'm starting to feel a bit guilty about staying inside. I feel somehow responsible for Eric's not being here. I could be making him homeless. I like to say that I have compassion for the homeless, but perhaps I'm part of the problem instead of part of the solution. I think I should go out so Eric can come in.
   Of course, I don't really believe any of this.
   What I really think is that Eric is my alter ego, my shadow self, my animus. When the bills aren't paid, blame it on Eric. When the dishes aren't done? It's Eric's fault. Actually, it's not really his fault, because he doesn't really know what time it is. How can anyone be expected to do anything on time, or show up for school, in a world where it can be 11:96 at any given moment? What kind of time is that? 11:96 is not time to go to school. It is not time to run out to buy stamps. 11:96 can be a lot of things, but one thing it is not, is time.
  I'm starting to think that maybe I'm missing the divine message in all of this. Like this 96 thing. It could be an apocalyptic message from the Beyond, A key to the cryptic numerological warning in the Book of Revelations? Or, maybe, relating to the year 1996. A 9 is just an upside-down 6. There is a 6 in my phone number.
   I wonder if this is by accident or design.
   What would Carl Jung say about this combination of things? If this were a dream, his interpretation would say that all the images and elements would be, quite simply, parts of myself. The unreal time is a signal, he might say, of knowing I'm not ready to face these things. This is borne out by my sense that someone has always just left as I walk in the door, someone with whom I'm unable to come face to face. Walking in the door is, of course, a symbolic entrance into the dreaming aspect of my psyche. The telephone is a modern archetype of the voice of the unseen, the Higher Power, perhaps, attempting to communicate its cryptic messages.
   Of course I don't really believe any of this.
   It's 12:49 by my clock. It could be five minutes until twelve. It could be 11:96. The phone rings. Who is it? I hear static. I say hello. It hangs up.
   Suddenly it becomes clear to me. It's the archetypal divine prankster, Trickster. Telling me to look beyond the commonplace events of life. Telling me not to live a humdrum existence. Yes, I see it now. Life is not a series of minute crises. It's a series of little mysteries, to solve or not to solve. That is the real question. Trickster is here, in the telephone and in the clock, giving me clues about the nature of truth.
   Of course I don't really believe any of this.
   It's all true, and none of it is true. Anything is possible and everything is impossible (or at the very least, improbable).
   I wonder if this is by accident or design.

(Reprinted by permission - 5/3/2017)

Friday, January 8, 2016

Teleological Illusions and the Creation of Meaning

   By Steve Rensberry

   Few phrases are as presumptive as the phrase, “everything happens for a reason.” It is, nevertheless, nearly the axiom that guides all other axioms for millions of people who believe that life is governed by some type of divine, supernatural architect. Often it is voiced in the aftermath of some particularly painful and hard-to-understand tragedy, or in moments of despair and uncertainty. As an effort to offer comfort and assurance or to ease someone's pain, it is an understanding sentiment. The problem is with the term everything. Why not say that “Some things happen for a reason,” or perhaps, “When some things happen, we can sometimes learn from it?” Because such phrases, I would argue, simply lack the absolute certainty that people seem to crave. Is free will an illusion? Is life is devoid of all uncertainty? Logically it would have to be, if everything does indeed have a purpose, would it not?
   Philosophically the view is known as a teleology, a position which seeks to describe and explain life's phenomenon by appealing to purposes rather than to their historic and natural causes. The word's origin can be traced to 1740 and German philosopher Baron Christian von Volff, who coined the term teleologia, meaning “entire, perfect, complete.” Exactly what these purposes are, and how they are known, are questions that invariably invoke issues of trust and leaps in logic and reason.
   One way to understand the teleological frame of mine is to think of life--right down to the tiniest minutiae--as being pulled rather than pushed, of flipping cause and effect on its head, or of swapping a scientific and realist-based linear view of reality--as a series of space-time transformations from past to present to future--with one that flows in exactly the opposite direction. From a teleological perspective, time and causation exist but in a magical realm, the precise mechanism of what nobody understands.
   Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza, an opponent of the mind-body dualism of Descartes, writes: "What is termed a 'final cause' is nothing but human appetite . . . . I must not fail to mention here that the advocates of this doctrine, eager to display their talent in assigning purpose to things, have introduced a new style of argument to prove their doctrine, i.e. a reduction, not to the impossible, but to ignorance, thus revealing the lack of any other argument in its favor. For example, if a stone falls from the roof on somebody's head and kills him, by this method of arguing, they will prove that the stone fell in order to kill the man; for if it had not fallen for this purpose by the will of God, how could so many circumstances (and there are often many coinciding circumstances) have chanced to concur? Perhaps you will reply that the event occurred because the wind was blowing and the man was walking that way. But they will persist in asking why the wind blew...And so they will go on and on asking the causes of causes until you take refuge in the will of God -- that is, the sanctuary of ignorance.” (Wolfson, Harry Austryn, The Philosophy of Spinoza, Meridian Books, Inc., New York, 1960. Appendix, pg. 60).
   The concepts of chance, luck, and happenstance simply do not exist in a metaphysical sense, from the teleological perspective, because everything has purpose, and everything has meaning -- by definition. By what mechanism do such meaningful circumstances happen? They happen by way of a thing called reality, but it is a reality which has been personified to the extreme, where human characteristics and impulses have been projected onto a being who is assumed to be multi-dimensional, eternal, and hyper-personal. He, she, or it, is seen as synonymous with life -- omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent, everywhere and nowhere, everything and nothing, a conscious, personal and infinitely intelligent entity that knows not only the immediate thoughts and desires of each human being, but those they will experience in the future. It is a being who is considered to be love, hate, light, “the word,” everything and nothing, both incomprehensible and intensely personal. Above all, this being is considered to be wholly beyond and unconstrained by distance and time.
  Authors Aiyana K. Willad and Ara Norenzayan, of the University of British Columbia, outline in a 2013 manuscript the idea that the teleological mindset, and religious belief in general, rests on a type cognitive bias. They site multiple studies to substantiate their case. “These theories converge on suggesting that belief in supernatural agents such as gods and spirits, and related phenomena, emerge from a set of interrelated cognitive biases, such as perceptions of agency and mentalizing, mind-body dualism, and teleological intuitions. Equipped with these cognitive biases, human minds gravitate toward religious and religious-like beliefs and intuitions,” the authors state. See: Cognative biases explain religious belief, paranormal belief, and belief in lie's purpose.
   Why do people believe in that which they can't prove, on matters as important as the meaning and purpose of life? The short answer is that such “belief statements” are not so much statements of truth or observation as they are simple assertions. The person who makes the statement “wants” it to be true, “feels” that it is true, and by voicing it seeks agreement and reinforcement for their belief.
   The long answer is that human beings are complex biological organisms with an abstract-creating, imagination-driven, non-linear operating organ called a brain, an organ marked by host of unusual phenomenon, chief among them being consciousness itself and the capability for self reflection. To think is to engage in the formation of hypothetical scenarios, and to mix, match and link together related images in an almost infinite variety of patterns and scenes, then, if desired, to erase the whole thing in a millisecond only to be followed by another. When we aren't simply thinking, we are striving to manifest what we conceive. We build houses. We form relationships. We play. We create. We paint. We travel. And we invent. Nature, however, always seems to get the better of us in the end. So the art and practice of hoping and believing that there's more, goes on. We want there to be more, because for some of us the idea that there isn't is just intolerable. The idea that “everything has a purpose,” like other ideas which imply a belief in higher realities, exists because we die, because of the inability for we humans to manifest all that we can can imagine.
   In the article, “Does Everything Happen for a Reason?, authors Deepak Chopra and Jordan Flesh suggest that it is life's fundamental unpredictability which drives the impulse to devise stories “to explain ourselves to ourselves,” in addition to the “cloud of causes” that exists within each of us. “Inside this cloud are memories, conditioning, habit, reason, emotion, relationship, genes, and many hidden biological factors,” they write. “How this cloud comes to a decision is completely beyond the reach of scientific explanation.”
   Chopra and Flesh furthermore point to the feelings of synchronicity which people have, a feeling which provides a counter to the randomness of life. “People’s stories contain a mixture of order and chaos, so it may be that reality is completely orderly and meaningful, the only difference being how much orderliness we choose to bring into our lives. In other words, the reason that synchronicity smooths the way for one person and not for another depends upon them,” they write. “Everything happens for a reason if that’s how you perceive life; you allow the underlying meaning to express itself. You hold back chaos by trusting in orderliness. Trust isn’t sufficient, not by any means. It’s just one ingredient. The larger picture is about setting up a partnership between yourself and larger, invisible forces. They aren’t mystical forces but aspects of your own consciousness. The invisible forces include creativity, insight, intuition, intention, and attaining a state of mind where you are centered enough to know who you really are. The partnership between you and nature lies at the core of the world’s wisdom traditions.”
   Quantum physics, which points to a fundamental both/and state of uncertainty or superposition at the sub-atomic level; and tychism, proposed by Charles Sanders Pierce, which holds that a form of absolute chance or indeterminism is a real factor in the way the universe operates, also call into question the assumption that every aspect of life is imbued with purpose and meaning.

    For Further Reading

Thursday, December 17, 2015

The Same Old Tree

"We are all but recent leaves on the same old tree of life and if this life has adapted itself to new functions and conditions, it uses the same old basic principles over and over again. There is no real difference between the grass and the man who mows it." -- Albert Szent-Györgyi

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Aggregate Thinking and Objectification

   By Steve Rensberry

   Thinking in the aggregate is a nearly ubiquitous and irresistible human impulse, an impulse born perhaps in an increasingly complex, changing world that requires quick decisions and survival smarts. We plug people into groups, draw inferences based on averages, then move on as if all is well. But is it rational, and does it lend itself to the making of accurate, humane, and meaningful life decisions? This essay will explore the premise that such thinking is neither rational nor beneficial, and that ultimately all assessments of human beings that lean on aggregate statistical analysis, and other forms of abstract generalization, are in essence subtle and damaging forms of dehumanization. Philosophically, attempts to establish a conclusive interpretation for any individual human action by employing aggregate based calculations and related assumptions is an ontological nightmare, not unlike the epistemological quagmire we find ourselves in with platonism, structuralism and moral absolutism.
The term aggregate is used in different ways by different groups, one being the concept of aggregate demand or aggregate supply in macroeconomics, signifying some comprehensive or total value. People working in statistics, in the credit industry, or in the fields of predictive analytics and actuarial science also make extensive use of aggregate concepts. As used here, aggregate thinking is defined as the practice, whether codified into a mathematical formula or through simple every-day observation, of simply grouping and making assumptions about individual human beings derived from an analysis of the many, ostensibly to predict some future outcome, level of risk or value.
How does such thinking differ from the formation of the common stereotype, or prejudicial thinking in general, both of which are almost universally deplored? I would suggest that they differ only on a very superficial level. Judgments which seem entirely arbitrary, lacking any kind of statistical support or detailed argument, certainly appear more prejudicial. But garnish them with even the slightest amount of statistical reasoning, however superfluous, and the acceptance level rises accordingly. Conflating the abstract with the particular, and the realm of thought with flesh-and-blood existence, seems particularly easy when the subject of our analysis is of a conceptual nature, such as people, or society, as opposed to a living, breathing, individual human.
What choices do we have, really, when assessing our fellow human beings? We can consider individual people as entirely unique, living, breathing, sentient creatures, each with his or her own 100-percent unique life experiences, level of intelligence and genetic predisposition; or we can view them as something lesser, in the abstract, as just one part of a large group, defining them according to some mathematical algorithm or set of averages -- or generalization -- which assume that similar creatures think and reason in 100-percent identical ways.
Consider a group of 100 people. If 80 people out of this 100 are determined to have X characteristic, and if all those who have X characteristic engage in Y, can we take each of these 100 individuals in isolation and say that each of them has an 80 percent chance of engaging in Y? Not without committing a number of logical fallacies we can't. We commit the fallacy of division when we say that something which is true for the whole is necessarily true for each or some of its parts. We commit the ecological fallacy when we infer that statistics involving an individual can be deduced from inference for some group to which an individual belongs. The fallacy of composition involves falsely reasoning that what is true for a part is also true for the whole. The informal fallacy of hasty generalization is made when a conclusion is reached without consideration of all variables, which in this case would be those unique to a specific individual.
Put another way, is it fair to assume that each and every person in a group with predominantly similar characteristics carries the same degree of risk that the entire group does, in the aggregate? Most of us would say no, yet this type of assumption is exactly what happens in all sorts of enterprises -- in the field of insurance and actuarial science, in the determination of credit scores, in setting security clearances, in establishing citizenship, indeed with just about everything and anything that requires certification or a license. Conformity, predictability and risk aversion may be the underlying motives, but at what cost? One could make the point that the fundamental nature of organized society itself, governed by a universal set of rules and regulations, is all about the common good, and with it the implicit expectation that individuals will accept some degree of sacrifice and individualism to maintain the dominant ideal. But how far is too far, and when does mass conformity and group-think overwhelm that which makes us truly human?
Requiring people to sacrifice their individuality on the altar of the abstract, the aggregate, and the hypothetical seems to me to be fraught with dangers, among them deindividuation, defined in social psychology circles as the loss of self-awareness in groups and the diminishing of a person's sense of individuality. The belief that such states are a factor in antisocial behavior has been explored by a number of researchers, among them French psychologist Gustave Le Bon who described it as a process whereby individuals' minds become dominated by a “unanimous, emotional, and intellectually weak” collective mindset, leading to a loss of individual responsibility
In a 2002 working paper series for the Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis, writer Thomas Garrett points to another danger, this one involving the use of regression analysis and consumer sentiment indices, and how the use of data aggregation can lead to misleading conclusions about individual economic behavior. The irony of formal regression analysis as it relates to economics is that it still involves a form of objectification, by treating a person as a mere variable. As commonly defined, regression analysis is simply a statistical forecasting method used to estimate the effect that an independent variable has on a dependent variable.
Garrett states: "Every field of economics uses aggregated data to test hypotheses about the behavior of individuals. Examples in macroeconomics include the use of aggregate consumption and income to test the permanent income hypothesis (Hall, 1978), and forecasting national personal consumption expenditures using consumer sentiment indices (Caroll, et al. 1994: Bram and Ludvigson, 1998). The use of aggregate data to explain individual behavior makes the assumption that the hypothesized relationship between the economic variables in question is homogeneous across all individuals. When the behavior of economic agents is not the same, a regression analysis using aggregated data can provide conclusions regarding economic relationships that are different than if less aggregated data were used."
Jean JacquesRousseau, in The Social Contract and Discourses, parses the foundation that we give to a very old ideal – the idea of "the strong" – seen by some (in particular the strong) as the implicit arbitrator of morality and an element of that class of things considered to be truly real.
Rousseau writes: "The strongest is never strong enough to be always the master, unless he transforms strength into right, and obedience into duty. Hence the right of the strongest, which though to all seemingly meant ironically, is really laid down as a fundamental principal. But are we never to have an explanation of this phrase? Force is a physical power, and I fail to see what moral effect it can have. To yield to force is an act of necessity, not of will – at the most, an act of prudence. In what sense can it be a duty? Suppose for a moment that this so-called 'right' exists. I maintain that the sole result is a mass of inexplicable nonsense. For, if force creates right, the effect changes with the cause; every force that is greater than the first succeeds to its right. As soon as it is possible to disobey with impunity, disobedience is legitimate; and the strongest being always in the right, the only thing that matters is to act so as to become the strongest."
Where Rousseau questions the idea of force making right, we may just as well question the utilitarian idea of the right action always being that which results in the greatest good for the greatest number. In either case, we are dealing with non-physical elements of discourse, and the impossible challenge of determining what is infinitely “right” and what is infinitely “good” apart from complete omniscience, and against the great expanse of time.
The common denominator that aggregate statistical analysis, regression analysis, and utilitarian ethics all share is a reliance on non-concrete, abstract, absolutist thinking, and on the belief that it is possible to accurately define and relate to human beings as static things, things which can and should be compared to some abstract infinite quality existing entirely outside of normal time and space. Philosopher Martha Nussbaum described the process of objectification as something that occurs when a person is used as a tool, as something that is owned or interchangeable, or as something that may be destroyed without any additional permission needed. Similar to the concept of dehumanization, objectification negates the feelings and humanness of an individual, either indirectly or directly, through various levels of oversimplification and denial.
The debate over the role and reality of the immaterial is an old one and entails a number of metaphysical positions which I think are worth summarizing. They include:
Platonism: Abstract objects exist in a non-physical and non-mental realm outside of normal time and space. (Historical Platonism adherents: Plato, Numenius, Plotinus, Augustine, Ploclus. Modern platonism, small "p" adherents: Bernard Bolzano, Gottlob Frege, Edmund Husserl, Bertrand Russell, Alonzo Church, Kurt Gödel, W.V. Quine, Hilary Putnam, George Bealer and Edward Zalta).
Nominalism (anti-realism): Universal entities and abstract objects do not formally exist, as do particular concrete entities and objects. (Francis Bacon, David Hume, John Stuart Mill, Herbert Spencer, and Nelson Goodman.)
Conceptualism (mentalism, psychologism): Abstract objects such as numbers do in fact exist, not as independent entities but as mental constructs. (Locke, Husserl, Brouwer, Heyting, Noam Chomsky, Fodor).
Immanent realism (moderate realism): Universals exist, not in some external reality beyond time and space but within the physical world of particulars. (Aristotle, D.M. Armstrong).
Nihilism: Nothing actually exists. (Friedrich Nietzsche, Stanley Rosen, Martin Heidegger).
Naturalism: mind and non-material values are a product of matter. (John Dewey, Sidney Hook, Roy Wood Sellars, Francis Bacon, Voltaire, Paul Kurtz)
Idealism: Mind or spirit constitutes the fundamental reality. (Immanuel Kant, G.W.F. Hegel, Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph Schelling, Arthur Schopenhauer).
Objective idealism: Material objects do not exist independently of human perception. Spiritual realities are independent from human consciousness. (Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph Shelling, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Plato)
Subjectiveidealism: Mind and mental constructs are all that exist. (Dharmakīrti, George Burkeley).
Solipsism: Knowledge outside of one's one mind is uncertain. Only one's mind is sure to exist. (René Descartes, Gorgias of Leontini, George Berkeley).
Common senserealism (Naïve Realism): Material objects do in fact exist.(J.J. Gibson, William Mace, Claire Michaels, Edward Reed, Robert Show, Michael Turvey, Carol Fowler).
Existentialism: All thinking must begin with the living, existing, feeling human being, and not with some abstract essence. (Søren Kierkegaard, Jean-Paul Satre, Johan Sebastian Cammermeyer Welhaven, Franz Kafka, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Albert Camus, Eugène Ionesco).
Moral Absolutism: The acceptance of or belief in absolute principles in political, philosophical, ethical or theological matters.
Structuralism: Elements of human culture must be understood in terms of their relationship to a larger, overarching system or structure (wikipedia). Simon Blackburn: Structuralism is "the belief that phenomenon of human life are not intelligible except through their interrelations. These relations constitute a structure, and behind local variations in the surface phenomena there are constant laws of abstract culture."
Theories concerning the ultimate nature of reality can be broken down furthermore into several other basic categories. These include monism, representing the view that reality is fundamentally one process or being (Parmenides, Hegel); pluralism, which see ultimate reality as flexible, incomplete and unknowable; and dualism, which sees reality as split between the eternal and unchanging realm of ideas or forms (Plato) and the ever-changing, temporal realm of human experience.
We may also view such differences in terms of idealism, realism and pragmatism. Idealists emphasize the role of mind and the relationship between the knower and the things known. Realists treat the mind as secondary and separate the knower from the world he or she inhabits. And pragmatists reject both views and instead embrace the idea that thoughts and things are fundamentally inseparable in a world of pure experience.
Still others have parsed the differences into those of mysticism, emphasizing the oneness of reality; materialism, focusing on matter as the stuff which ultimate reality is made of; and supernaturalism, which presupposes a higher being or beings who transcends the natural realm and who created and sustains all that exists.
It stands to reason that modern, densely populated societies need some measure of order and rules in order to function, especially with creatures who are unpredictable at best and dangerously self-serving, exploitive and violent at worst. But on what foundation should such rules be created, and just how far can we go in treating people as numbers before we cease to treat them as people at all? Should there be some measure of objectivity and concreteness in the process, or must we resign ourselves to generalizations and aggregate-based assumptions for the sake of efficiency and order, for lack of viable options?
I think the answer is most certainly yes, there should be some extraordinary level of concreteness to that which informs our choices; and no, I do not believe that we ought to resign ourselves to thinking in the aggregate merely because it is too time consuming or too difficult to reason otherwise. Individual human beings deserve to be treated as individual human beings, in all their complexity, with all their imperfections, and taking into account all that impacts their choices in the way of culture, genetics and environment. Thinking in the aggregate may be a natural and almost irresistible human impulse, but so might be a deeply-rooted and irrational fear of uncertainty -- a fear that has effectively been codified into almost every institution that surround us.
Given the bigger picture, it behooves us to make peace with uncertainty, make greater exceptions for environmental anomalies and human individuality, aim for general compliance rather than total conformity, and pursue empathy rather than penalty.
British philosopher Alan Watts, in his acclaimed 1951 work, The Wisdom of Insecurity:A Message for an Age of Anxiety, writes: “The 'primary consciousness,' the basic mind which knows reality rather than ideas about it, does not know the future. It lives completely in the present, and perceives nothing more than what is at this moment. The ingenious brain, however, looks at that part of present experience called memory, and by studying it is able to make predictions. These predictions are, relatively, so accurate and reliable (e.g. 'everyone will die') that the future assumes a high degree of reality -- so high that the present loses its value. But the future is still not here, and cannot become a part of experienced reality until it is present. Since what we know of the future is made up of purely abstract and logical elements -- inferences, guesses, deductions -- it cannot be eaten, felt, smelled, seen, heard or otherwise enjoyed. To pursue it is to pursue a constantly retreating phantom, and the faster you chase it, the faster it runs ahead. This is why all the affairs of civilization are rushed, why hardly anyone enjoys what he has, and is forever seeking more and more. Happiness, then, will consist, not of solid and substantial realities, but of such abstract and superficial things as promises, hopes, and assurances.”
Treating human beings as human beings also demands a certain understanding with respect to choice and free will. Yes, we may feel as though we have choice, but it is a choice stripped of the power to manifest much of what the will desires. People don't choose to be born in an imperfect world. They don't choose to grow old, to have a will and desires that exceed the capability of the physical universe to fulfill. Nor do they choose to have bodies that are susceptible to disease, infection and death. They don't choose the parents who will rear them, nor do they choose the home and environment they will spend their days in as children. It may be easy, simple, and quick to ignore the bigger picture, to see human beings as isolated pockets of infinite knowledge with infinite responsibility for every action they take, but it would not be accurate. Much has been made of a study by German scientists Hans Helmut Kornhuber and Lüder Deecke regarding a phenomenon known as “readiness potential,” which suggests that the unconscious mind may actually initiate action prior to one's conscious awareness of it. Subsequent studies by Benjamin Libet in the 1980s and by John-Dylan Haynes in 2008 using MRI technology has led to similar conclusions. While such studies do not conclusively prove that free will is merely an illusion, they do present a challenge to our traditional understanding of it. As Canadian transhumanist and bioethicist George Dvorsky writes in a Jan. 4, 2013 article for the blog io9: “What would really settle the issue would be the ability for neuroscientists to predict the actual outcome of more complex decisions prior to the subject being aware of it themselves. That would, in a very true sense, prove that free will is indeed an illusion.” (See: Scientific Evidence That You Probably Don't Have Free Will).
The concepts of risk and probability, as they relate to individual human action, are two other ideas that are ripe for reassessment. While the human condition may compel us to quickly assess the probability of theoretical future events and matters affecting our safety, the mere desire for certainty ought not lead us to the dehumanization of our fellow human beings. Yes, we can determine the relative likelihood of a group of people behaving in a certain way through aggregate analysis, but what is not so easy to determine is the degree to which a specific individual within that group will behave in a certain way. The concept of bounded rationality is one that may have bearing on our propensity to jump to conclusions and generalize, with respect to assessments of probability and risk. As listed in the Cambridge Dictionary: “Bounded rationality is the theory that people can understand only a limited amount of information within a limited amount of time, and for this reason they do not always make the best decisions, especially in complicated situations.” The concept of of bounded rationality differs from “rationality as optimization,” in that the process of optimization is seen as a constraint rather than an enabler.
Platonism, with a small “p,” asserts that abstract objects are objective, timeless entities, totally separate from the physical world, even from the symbols that people use in describing them. Structuralism is a method of interpretation that focuses on a broader conceptual system that supposedly underlies individual human cognition and behavior. And absolutism presupposes the existence of infinitely fixed principles that are above and behind all individual existential realities. While such ideas may sound nice and feel good to those seeking assurance, they exact a heavy toll – stripping humanity of the innate unpredictability, the non-linear processes that reflect our various states of consciousness, the mystery embodied in our range of desires, and the exceedingly complex and symbiotic mind-body relationship that all but makes us who we are.

For further reading

The Common Good
By Claire Andre and Manuel Velasquez