What Is Life?
Absent-Minded Science, Part VII
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Science … is becoming the study of organisms. Biology is the study of the larger organisms; whereas physics is the study of the smaller organisms.~Alfred North Whitehead, Science and the Modern World (1925)
What is life? Do we, as with art and obscenity, “know it when we see it?” This intuitive approach may be good enough for many people, but science seeks definitions in order to get a better handle on the phenomena being studied.
The last couple of essays in this series have discussed theories of evolution without stopping to establish what the heck we are talking about in discussing “life.”
Tam Hunt
Unfortunately, every definition of life provided thus far runs into serious problems. Aristotle perhaps said it best: “Nothing is true of that which is changing.” In other words, if all is in flux – as all things are – then static definitions of physical phenomena are literally impossible, including life. This is a fundamental limitation that is too rarely acknowledged in modern science and philosophy. We may carve out generally workable definitions, as rules of thumb (heuristics) for deeper study, but we must always acknowledge that any definition regarding physical phenomena that ignores the truth of flux fails from the outset.
Numerous modern biologists have attempted to answer the question: What is life? J.B.S. Haldane, the 20th Century British biologist, a giant in his field, began a short essay – “What is Life”? – by stating, however: “I am not going to answer this question.” He recognized the difficulties and stayed away from any definition. There are also three books from the 20th Century alone, with the same title, which do attempt to answer this eons-old question.
Erwin Schrödinger, a paragon of modern physics well-known for his role in shaping quantum theory, described in his little 1935 masterpiece What is Life? the concept of negative entropy, or negentropy, as the defining characteristic of life. Contrary to the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which asserts that the general tendency in our universe is for order to decay into disorder – entropy – the tendency of life, indeed the very defining characteristic of life, is the opposite. Schrödinger defines life by its ability to create order out of disorder, to defy the trends that inanimate matter must otherwise inexorably follow.
This definition is intriguing, but modern knowledge about the self-organizing characteristics of what is normally considered inanimate matter renders it problematic as a definition of life as something distinct and qualitatively different from non-living matter. When water freezes it transitions from a less ordered state to a more ordered state. This is negentropy. But is water alive? What about crystals more generally, whether of water, silicon or metal? We shall see below that there isn’t really any clear separation from what is negentropic and what is not. If life is defined as what is negentropic, then the whole universe is in some manner negentropic because key parts of the universe are negentropic; and perhaps, over time, the whole universe will become negentropic. Hold that thought.
Ernst Mayr, an American, was another giant of 20th Century biology. He taught at Harvard for decades and, after he had retired, wrote his encyclopedic overview of biology, The Growth of Biological Thought, and many other books. He acknowledged the difficulty in defining life: “Attempts have been made again and again to define ‘life.’ These endeavors are rather futile since it is now clear that there is no special substance, object, or force that can be identified with life.”
Mayr couldn’t resist however, proposing his own list of criteria to describe the “process of living,” as opposed to “life.” Mayr’s criteria for living processes were:
~complexity and organization
~chemical uniqueness
~quality
~uniqueness and variability
~a genetic program
~a historical nature
~natural selection
~indeterminacy
I won’t go into details regarding Mayr’s system except to say that Mayr, despite his own cautions, falls right into the same trap as other biologists, with his criteria for living processes, that he warned about in refusing to define “life.” First, Mayr’s criteria are, collectively, a definition of life – which he said he wasn’t going to provide.
Second, all of Mayr’s criteria either fall on a continuum or are arbitrary distinctions proposed intuitively and without a deeper foundational principle. Why must life have a genetic program, and what does this even mean? Does the genetic program have to be DNA? Can it be bits of code in a computer? Mayr’s writings on these questions reveal his own lack of resolve on this topic. He suggests that computers and software may contain instructions akin to DNA, but then fails to explain why software “DNA” is qualitatively different than non-software DNA. The same can be said with respect to all of his criteria.
A simpler definition of life is offered by British biologists John Dupre and Maureen A. O’Malley. They discuss the three criteria for life that most modern approaches to defining or characterizing life include:
~reproduction
~metabolism
~spatial boundedness
This definition of life gives rise to the possibility that mechanical or electronic creatures may be considered alive, assuming such creatures will eventually be able to reproduce themselves, as they surely will be able to do in coming years. Personally, I am fine with such an inclusive definition, but most biologists it seems are not. If artificial life is truly to be considered life, then what is the principled distinction between life and non-life?
Dupre and O’Malley raise additional problems with these criteria, including the key fact that almost all organisms rely on other organisms for metabolism and reproduction, challenging the notion that we can point to a particular organism and call it “alive” and pretend that it is entirely distinct from its network of symbionts, parasites, etc.
This broader problem with all attempts to answer “what is life?” becomes even more apparent when we consider the variety of “almost alive” parts of our universe. All of these border-line cases, described below, can be described as satisfying the above three-part definition. Yet none of these borderline cases is generally considered, by modern biologists, to be alive, revealing the problematic approach to “life” that is implicit in today’s biology and philosophy of biology.
Viruses are the most well-known member of this group of borderline cases. Viruses are responsible for the common cold and for the flu, as well as many other damaging diseases. Viruses are very simple creatures that consist of merely a protein shell and a dab of RNA, which is a precursor to DNA. Viruses can’t reproduce without invading host cells and co-opting their reproductive machinery. A virus will attach itself to a cell wall, penetrate the wall and transfer its RNA into the cell. The RNA melds itself with the cell’s DNA, forcing the cell to create more viruses. It’s incredibly ingenious when we look at it with fresh eyes. How on Earth did such complex processes evolve in such tiny and apparently non-complex creatures? It’s one of many marvels of life as we know it.
Yet many biologists consider viruses not to be alive. Or, to be more accurate, they consider a virus when it is in its dormant state outside of a host cell to be inert non-living matter. This is the case because the virus can’t reproduce itself without invading a host cell. Thus it fails the independent reproduction criterion.
This distinction itself quickly becomes manifestly arbitrary, however, when we ponder why the distinction is drawn between a virus outside of a cell and a virus inside a cell. Once the virus is inside the cell, it loses any independent existence because its RNA melds with the DNA of the host cell. If the virus outside of the cell, with its little protein shell and RNA, is not alive, what suddenly becomes alive when it merges with the host cell? Is it now a virus/host combination entity that is alive? Or is the virus to be considered conceptually distinct even when it is attached to a host cell and its RNA injected into the host cell? If so, why? And at what exact point does the virus suddenly become “alive” as it attaches to a cell and injects its RNA?
Self-replicating RNA is a second type of borderline biological agent. Self-replicating RNA consists of only a strand of RNA. As the name suggests, it’s different than normal RNA, which occurs inside cells, in that it can reproduce itself without a cell’s help. Self-replicating RNA creates whole new strands of RNA as a free-floating agent outside of a cell. Is this life? Why not?
What about prions? Prions are self-replicating molecules responsible for various diseases such as “mad cow disease.” Prions are even simpler than viruses and self-replicating RNA. Prions consist of nothing more than a very simple protein enfolded in a certain way. In fact, some definitions of “prion” refer only to the information about enfolding the protein, rather than the actual protein. Prions – a contraction of “protein infection” – infect normal proteins and cause them to fold in a way that is always lethal. In cows, the prion infects the brain and causes normal proteins to fold in such a way that it ruins the normal functioning of infected cells. Prions are like viruses in that they don’t seem to have built-in reproductive machinery (and if the prion is simply information that directs the enfolding process it doesn’t, by definition, have any “machinery” at all).
Prion reproduction is a simple transfer of information, consisting of the way the infected protein folds, from a prion to a normal protein. The act of transferring this information, however this is done at the microbiological level, is itself the prion’s reproductive act. Indeed, it is the only reproduction possible for such a simple form, for what else would reproduction of a prion, a mere way of protein enfolding, consist of? We see, then, that the prion does in fact have its own reproductive machinery built into its very simple structure. Recent research has also found that prions evolve just like DNA-based life. So is a prion alive? If not, why not? It seems to meet the three-part test.
This is the kind of difficulty that arises from any proposed definition of what is necessarily in flux: life or even the “process of life” that Mayr tried to characterize with his criteria. We can solve this problem by suggesting that all things are alive to some degree. Life is simply the flux of increasingly complex forms, which includes all matter in the universe. As matter becomes more complex, it becomes “more alive.” An electron is alive, but just a tiny bit. A molecule of oxygen is alive, but just a little bit. A virus outside a cell is alive, but just a tiny bit, and a prion, and so on. Aristotle wrote, two and a half thousand years ago: “Nature proceeds little by little from things lifeless to animal life in such a way that it is impossible to determine the exact line of demarcation, nor on which side thereof an intermediate form should lie.” Dupre and O’Malley reach the same conclusion in their paper, proposing a continuum approach to life that stresses collaboration.
If you can’t establish where the line of demarcation lies it makes little sense to posit any line at all. With no line, life becomes a continuum of more or less life in each particular organism. And all things are “organisms” in this conception of life. As we’ve seen in previous essays, Whitehead conceived of all matter as “drops of experience.” A key feature (perhaps the feature) of this rudimentary experience is will, which includes at its most fundamental level the ability to make choices about how to move and how to manifest in each moment, given the tumult of available information from the surrounding universe. Whitehead, Schopenhauer, David Bohm, Freeman Dyson, David Ray Griffin, and others have suggested that all matter, even subatomic particles, has some freedom of choice over how to move and manifest in each moment. Dyson writes that “the processes of human consciousness differ only in degree but not in kind from the processes of choice between quantum states which we call ‘chance’ when made by electrons.”
It is generally only in highly complex collections of matter, such as in forms that we consider alive from an intuitive point of view, that we see the obvious manifestations of this ability to make choices. But the choices are also manifest, as Dyson writes, in forms that we would not traditionally consider alive, such as atoms and subatomic particles.
J.B.S. Haldane, who puckishly refused to answer the question of what life is in his 1947 essay, supported the view that there is no clear demarcation line between what is alive and what is not: “We do not find obvious evidence of life or mind in so-called inert matter…; but if the scientific point of view is correct, we shall ultimately find them, at least in rudimentary form, all through the universe.”
More recently, University of Colorado astrobiologist Bruce Jakosky, who has worked with NASA in the search for extraterrestrial life, asked rhetorically: “Was there a distinct moment when Earth went from having no life to having life, as if a switch were flipped? The answer is ‘probably not.’” Aristotle, Haldane, Dupre, O’Malley and Jakosky are not alone, however, among eminent scientists in holding this view. Bohr, the Danish physicist who made seminal contributions to quantum mechanics, agreed, stating that the “very definitions of life and mechanics … are ultimately a matter of convenience…. [T]he question of a limitation of physics in biology would lose any meaning if, instead of distinguishing between living organisms and inanimate bodies, we extended the idea of life to all natural phenomena.”
This argument shares many obvious similarities with the argument for panpsychism in earlier essays in this series – the idea that all things have some type of experience that becomes more complex as the organization of matter becomes more complex. We see now that “life” and “consciousness” may be viewed as different terms for the same phenomenon. As matter becomes more complex, it becomes more alive and more conscious. These are simply two ways of saying the same thing.
We reach, with this analysis, a smooth synthesis of physics and biology – as Whitehead suggests in the quote at the beginning of this essay. Physics is the science of fundamental physical forms, organisms, which are just a little bit alive. Biology is, then, simply the science of more complex organisms. The practical dividing line between these two fields becomes arbitrary and a matter of convenience. There is no real dividing line at all.
So what is life? We are led in the final analysis to realize that Schrödinger was right in his assertion that the defining characteristic of life is negentropy – a tendency toward order, toward form. Life is the universal process of creating and maintaining new forms, instead of the opposite tendency to destroy form. Entropy, the second law of thermodynamics is, in this view, a postulate that is in the process of being disproven as we realize that life is all-pervasive. This is another way of stating Schrödinger’s insights. This view of life as universal is known as hylozoism or panzoism.
Life is simply shorthand for the complexity of matter and mind – which are two aspects of the same thing. That is, each real thing is both matter and mind. We apply the label of “life” as a matter of convenience to more complex forms of matter and mind. But there is no point at which a particular collection of matter suddenly becomes alive. Life does not “emerge.” (Life does, however, disappear rather suddenly, from particular organisms, as we are reminded all too often. Death becomes, in this view of life, a matter of different levels of organization: when a given organism dies, its status as a unitary subject, a unitary organism, disappears even as its constituents may keep on living. I will be fleshing out my thoughts on death in later essays.)
This view of life and consciousness as two terms for the same phenomenon provides a unifying framework for physics, biology and the study of consciousness. While the particular tools for studying phenomena within each field as we know it today will remain different in practice, having a unifying philosophical framework can be helpful in reaching new insights.
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Tam Hunt is a philosopher, lawyer and biologist. He lives in Santa Barbara and keeps a blog, Thought, Spirit, Politik at www.tamhunt.blogspot.com.
Comments
In what sense is a quark a living organism? Do quarks think about things before they make decisions?
pk (anonymous profile)
March 28, 2011 at 11:27 a.m. (Suggest removal)
If all that exists is a continuum of living interiority and self-consciousness, where do you draw the line on when it's permissible to smash a being into its constituent parts?
pk (anonymous profile)
March 28, 2011 at 11:51 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, a quark is, in the panzoist view, alive inasmuch as it perceives the universe around it and makes decisions with respect to how it manifests in each moment based on such perceptions. Keep in mind that "perception" in the way I'm using it here doesn't require any organs like those we have. Rather, it is manifestly clear that all physical things perceive the universe around them through the fundamental forces of electromagnetism, gravity and strong and weak nuclear forces. This is what I mean by perception. The difference between today's absent-minded physics and the panzoist physics I'm advocating here is that this rudimentary perception is in fact accompanied by at least an iota of feeling and that feeling leads to a decision as to how to manifest in the next moment.
So a quark will feel the universe around it, primarily through the strong nuclear force (this is how quarks behave according to modern physics), and decide how to manifest. Such decisions are almost always the same for quarks because of the maximally rudimentary capacity for perception and choice in a quark; so habit rules the day for quarks, as we know from empirical data. But occasionally quarks will behave out of character, so to speak, as predicted by the Standard Model of quantum mechanics. And whereas modern physics interprets such anomalies as random events, panzoist physics would interpret this as an unusual choice by the object at issue.
You'll notice of course that this is pretty much the identical discussion we've already had with respect to panpsychism - and panzoism and panpsychism do in fact reduce to each other. Life and mind are two terms for the same thing.
As for your rhetorical question about any moral repercussions coming from destroying an object like an atom or a molecule, I'll leave that for you to decide. Personally, I revere all life and I revere it more as it becomes more complex. So I revere the earth beneath my feet but I revere a beetle more and a human being even more.
Interestingly, by expanding "life" to all things the notion of the sanctity of life is cheapened, from a certain perspective. But the flip-side is that the entire universe becomes more revered because we realize it's all one vast web of thinking, feeling, living matter - but with the overwhelming majority of such thinking and feeling so minimal as to be negligible for all practical purposes.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 28, 2011 at 2:35 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Either A: the perception of sentient being, and or B: the process of celular activity.
George Harrison--the most introspective of the Beatles, asked the same question in 1970 in this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc1-YJ...
billclausen (anonymous profile)
March 28, 2011 at 8:49 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Thanks for the link Bill - I've always liked George.
As for your suggested answers to the question I pose, I'm not sure what you mean by A and I addressed in my essay why B fails as a consistent or workable definition of life. Why should life be considered only cellular life? And if this is the key criterion, when does a cell become a cell and at what exact moment does it suddenly become "alive"? Does it literally transition in one particular nanosecond from not alive to alive with one particular twist of one particular molecule sufficient to bring the totality from inert to alive?
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 28, 2011 at 11:03 p.m. (Suggest removal)
As I've suggested before, I see nothing more than reductio ad absurdum in redefining terms such that quarks are said to "perceive," "feel," and "decide."
Why do you revere the more-complex more than the less-complex? Where do you draw the line at when "thinking and feeling [become] so minimal as to be negligible for all practical purposes"?
I think the moral implications of your views need to be addressed. For example, if there is a continuum of living, sentient beings, how do we decide on which ones we can experiment and which we cannot?
pk (anonymous profile)
March 29, 2011 at 7:46 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, before I answer your further questions, let me ask you what your definition of life is? And as with our discussions of consciousness previously, can you explain why your definition of life would (if this is the case in your definition) lead to something suddenly becoming "alive" in one particular instant where it was wholly inert before?
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 29, 2011 at 12:36 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Tam
Rather than accept your invitation to cite a definition of "life" to which you will respond by asking me to draw the line between it and nonlife, I would rather, given your predilection for arguing the impossibility of drawing lines between states of being, let you use whatever definition you prefer in explaining how you draw the lines showing why more-complex being is to be "revered" more than less-complex being, or when the line is crossed such that "thinking and feeling [become] so minimal as to be negligible for all practical purposes," or when the line is crossed making it permissible to conduct destructive experiments on the living, sentient beings you postulate all existing entities to be.
pk (anonymous profile)
March 29, 2011 at 2:47 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Obviously my link to George's video was tongue-in-cheek but seriously there are some questions that I think simply cannot be answered. I realized this when I was about thirteen. That mystery is part of what makes life interesting.
I'm not at all anti-science/questioning, but sometimes we have to just accept limitations. Babies have been born 4 1/2 months premature and have survived. (leading near normal if not completely normal lives) but then what does science say is the starting point of human life--assuming your question is human definition of life alone.
billclausen (anonymous profile)
March 29, 2011 at 3:18 p.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, I look forward to your offered definition of life. But to answer your question, my ethical boundaries for exploiting or destroying entities that are, in my ontology, alive and experiential in at least some rudimentary manner, are similar to the Jains' or any vegan, vegetarian's or thinking person's personal code. I do my best to not harm life, I do my best to not eat animals (I do eat fish and occasionally meat), I do my best to not damage the environment, I do my best to be a conscious actor in terms of all of my actions in this universe. As far as conducting experiments, I am okay with experiments on animals that don't unnecessarily harm or cause suffering to those animals. (I haven't, however, studied this issue in depth). Such practical and ethical rules can't be dogmatic. Observant Jains perhaps cross the line in terms of sweeping the path in front of them every step of their route to avoid stepping on insects. I don't advocate such extreme measures. I advocate reasonable and practical ethical rules that respect all life, but it's up to each of us to figure out what rules we live by. I do, for example, move insects off the tennis court when I play. But I don't sweep my path as I walk...
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 29, 2011 at 4:05 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Bill, there is certainly plenty of mystery in the universe and always will be - we'll never everything or even most things. But when we're talking about words and concepts that have some reference to the external world we are obligated to examine what these words and concepts mean. I have no problem with you saying that you are fine with life being undefined. But if we are thinking rigorously about biology, science or philosophy, we need to know what it means. And that's what my essay is about.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 29, 2011 at 7:01 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Tam
Being conscious of what one does is not the same as being moral in what one does. How did you decide what sentient entities it was OK to eat? To use one of your favorite phrases, how do you decide where to draw the line? In experimenting on sentient beings, how do you draw the line that tells you when it's OK to cause suffering? Is it OK to smash atoms but not pigs? Why? At what point does "thinking and feeling [become] so minimal as to be negligible for all practical purposes"?
pk (anonymous profile)
March 30, 2011 at 7:12 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, these are very different questions. It's one thing to draw conceptual boundaries for science and philosophy and another thing to draw boundaries for ethical behavior. Granted, they are related but as I just suggested practicality intervenes far more in ethical behavior - b/c of its very nature as behaviorally oriented - than in science and philosophy, which is far more about conceptual clarity and avoiding internal contradictions.
That said, I do seek clarity and avoidance of contradiction in my own behavior as well as in my philosophy. I already mentioned where I draw the line personally in terms of my behavior toward other organisms and the world more generally - pescatarianism, etc.
Fuzzy boundaries are generally inevitable in the real world because of the complexity of the real world - this is what law is all about (my day job). Workable "bright line" rules in law are quite rare because of the complexity of the world and of behavior.
But in science and philosophy, bright line rules and concepts should be used whenever possible and the function of philosophy is to reveal unworkable or contradictory bright line rules that have been offered. And this is what I have done in dissecting (pardon the pun) the concept of "life" in this essay. I've tried to show that there is no bright line - in fact, no line at all - between life and non-life.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 30, 2011 at 9:16 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Tam
Philosophy has many functions, one of which is to clarify the implications that a given worldview has for the process of ethical decision making. Given your ontological commitments and your predilection for not drawing lines, what are your criteria for deciding which creatures it's permissible to eat, which sentient entities, from quarks on up, it's acceptable to destructively examine, or when "thinking and feeling [become] so minimal as to be negligible for all practical purposes"? If all being is a continuum, how far up from quarks do we start treating entities as though they were human?
pk (anonymous profile)
March 30, 2011 at 11:25 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, I think I just answered your question. I'll add that extending human rights to other entities has a long way to go over coming decades and centuries before we start worrying about panpsychism or panzoism with respect to ethics (other than with respect to a more holistic environmentalist ethic as I've outlined above). I think it is reasonable to expect first that human rights are extended to all humans, which is not the case today. And then the next step will be to umbrella the most sentient other animals, such as chimps and dolphins, perhaps dogs, under a similar set of rights. And so on down the chain. This will be a many centuries long process as we use technology to improve the intelligence of other creatures and introduce them to our noospheric realm. If you're interested in the more sci fi aspects of these ideas, check out Startide Rising, an excellent novel I read decades ago.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 30, 2011 at 11:52 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, there is another broad theme that is highly relevant to your questions. Descartes and his brand of dualism (mind/spirit and body/matter as separate substances) was responsible for a great deal of pain and suffering in other animals. Descartes' dualism supported the notion that non-human animals had no soul or mind and were, instead, mere automatons. When a cat cries because its tail is stepped on, it's just faking emotion, Descartes suggested.
This was wrongheaded in the extreme and highly damaging. To anyone that has a dog or a cat it is manifestly obvious that they have a range of emotions that approximates those humans enjoy. And so on down the chain of complexity...
We have in the last century or so been slowly recovering from Descartes' vision and the early Judeo-Christian notion that the world was created for our use solely, with no intrinsic value. Human rights and animal rights have slowly made progress and we now have laws strong enough to send a star athlete to jail for mistreating dogs (Vick).
The panzoist vision does help this expansion of freedom for all beings, but even without panzoism there is great room for improvement in prevailing ethics. Nevertheless, viewing the entire universe as consisting of various nested levels of life provides a broad and holistic worldview that will do much to help us evolve ethically and treat the natural world with more care.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 30, 2011 at 4:36 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Tam
Actually, you haven't provided any criteria at all for deciding when "thinking and feeling [become] so minimal as to be negligible for all practical purposes" (what "practical purposes" did you have in mind?); what sorts of rights we should assign categories of being from quarks on up; how approximate their emotional lives are to those of humans; and where we can draw the line and ethically ignore those emotions, thoughts, and feelings.
pk (anonymous profile)
March 31, 2011 at 7:20 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, I thought I had made it clear in our past discussions that I am NOT ascribing any thoughts or cognition to the basic entities of the universe. Thoughts and cognition require memory and higher processing ability. The "feelings" I'm referring to in the quark, electron, etc., are far more basic than that. Feelings lead eventually to the kind of cognition we enjoy, but that is many many levels of complexity higher up. I've mentioned before in this string and others that the very basic feelings in these basic constituents is most likely only the feeling of being pushed and pulled a certain way and a rudimentary non-cognitive decision to respond to these pulls and pushes in a certain way (this is Whitehead's "concrescence").
Again, these decisions are generally very uniform - leading to the statistical regularities of thermodynamics and physics more generally - but occasionally choices are made that diverge from the regularities. This is in line with the data and predictions of quantum theory and thermodynamics. The key difference is that the cause of such divergence in the panpsychist/panzoist view is choice not chance. But this rudimentary choice is non-cognitive. Cognition comes into the picture only when some capacity for memory is present and there is apparently no memory in a quark if we adopt the Whiteheadian notion of a quark as an "actual entity" because the actual entity only exists for each moment and what we call a quark is actually a "society" through time of actual entities.
As for "quark rights," I don't think our behavior needs to change with respect to the tiniest constituents of our universe or the constituents of the inorganic world (though of course "organic" and "inorganic" lose their distinction in the panzoist worldview) more generally. This is the case because even if we were concerned enough about the rudimentary feelings of these tiniest organisms/actual entities to want to try and ensure they are not harmed, they would not be harmed by our actions in the vast majority of cases. They keep right on ticking no matter what we do to the aggregates they belong to.
I think that's all I have to say on the ethical aspects of panzoism at this time.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 31, 2011 at 9 a.m. (Suggest removal)
I find the claim that a quark (or its supposed constituting "society" of "actual entities," which seem in principle beyond the ability of physics to detect), can have a "feeling of being pushed and pulled a certain way and [make] a rudimentary non-cognitive decision to respond to these pulls and pushes in a certain way" to entail such absurd extensions of what we mean by "feeling" and "decision" as to be incoherent.
"The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things."
I suppose one can, but at the risk of creating a private language in which one can convince only oneself.
pk (anonymous profile)
March 31, 2011 at 11:28 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, I'm using terms in ways that make more sense than current physics does. I highly recommend that you read Whitehead's Process and Reality if you'd like to delve deeper into these ideas.
"Society" refers to the temporal chain of actual entities that overturns the normal "substantialist" focus of the prevailing metaphysics. In other words, where today's prevailing metaphysics view a quark as constant and unchanging "mini-billiard ball," it is instead a society of actual entities in Whitehead's panpsychist metaphysics. Whitehead demonstrates in his 1925 book, Science and the Modern World, and his 1929 book, Process and Reality, that unchanging entities like the postulated quarks or electrons cannot behave as they are observed. They have to have ways to change in order to respond to the world.
This is what each moment's "concrescence" is - a process by which the fundamental constituents of reality receive information from the universe around them and decide how to manifest (become concrete). This is a universal process. So the quark "actual entity" exists only for a very short duration (let's call it a "chronon"), but the "society" of quarks can exist as long as it is not destroyed. The society of a particular quark is a temporal chain of actual entities that is the quark observed by modern physics and currently conceived as a single unchanging entity. What we in Whiteheadian metaphysics call the quark re-manifests in each moment and is not a constant and unchanging windowless monad - which is logically incoherent in light of the evidence.
I know this is complex stuff and sounds like gobbledyg--k to most who are unfamiliar with it. But if you want to adequately answer the questions I've posed in this series of essays (what is consciousness, what is matter, what is life) it's a necessary journey.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
March 31, 2011 at 11:56 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Why is this psycho babble in the Independent?
Golgo13 (anonymous profile)
March 31, 2011 at 1:27 p.m. (Suggest removal)
The adequacy of an answer depends on many things, including, of course, the adequacy of the question.
I mean no disrespect when I say that I see no strong incentive here to hurtle myself down the Whiteheadian rabbit-hole. Life is short, and, as I'm afraid I'm overfond of saying, getting shorter all the time. My reading list is already too full.
pk (anonymous profile)
March 31, 2011 at 3:59 p.m. (Suggest removal)
"Why is this psycho babble in the Independent?"
Because the News-Press doesn't won't let us play in their sandbox.
billclausen (anonymous profile)
April 1, 2011 at 6:13 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Hmm, a typo let's try this again. Because the News-Press doesn't like us (Tam, pk, and myself) and won't let us play in their sandbox.
billclausen (anonymous profile)
April 1, 2011 at 6:26 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Bill, the NP used to publish my foreign policy opeds and environmental opeds on a regular basis but I stopped submitting b/c I don't read the NP anymore.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
April 1, 2011 at 9:18 a.m. (Suggest removal)
pk, I think you'd find Science and the Modern World by Whitehead very rewarding, so hopefully you'll find the time at some point.
For what it's worth, I've evolved from a hard-core atheist/materialist into a Whiteheadian theist due largely to my consideration of the question: "What is consciousness?" I began reading on this topic when I was 19 and have plowed through countless books since then, and written two books of my own on the topic (still in-progress). Because of materialism's failure to address this most important of philosophical questions I was forced to acknowledge that other systems may be better. And Whitehead, as I wrote about in Part III, has a particularly well-suited background to critique modern science and philosophy. His system is a comprehensive and very interesting (though not perfect) system that melds science, philosophy and faith.
Every thinking person would benefit greatly from at least reading Science and the Modern World, perhaps the most accessible of his works.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
April 1, 2011 at 9:23 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Tam
Materialism does address the question of consciousness, just not in ways you find satisfying.
I read Whitehead long ago--though not P&R--and don't feel the need to go there again, nor spend much time on a search for grand truths about science or philosophy, which I cheerfully leave to others (I don't think philosophers "demonstrate" in the sense of "prove": they claim to demonstrate, and for every "So-and-So showed that Y is the case," one can find a "So-and-So Other" who "showed" that Y is not the case). I prefer to meander down other byways, though I do look forward to any further thoughts you might share on faith or related matters.
pk (anonymous profile)
April 1, 2011 at 1:23 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Fair enough pk. Note, however, that science doesn't "prove" anything either. Science and philosophy are a continuum and both are about narratives and supporting evidence, not proof. Philosophy generalizes science. As you know, the next few installments of my series will talk about these issues in detail.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
April 1, 2011 at 3:58 p.m. (Suggest removal)
I was simply pointing out one of my bêtes noires: the rhetorical use of "So and So demonstrates X," which, unless the reference is to Euclid, usually translates into, "Rather than prove my claim about X, I'll claim that someone else proved it, and then proceed as if the truth of X is established."
Your final comment raises some issues which perhaps you will subsequently address: In what sense does Heidegger or Levinas generalize the physics of his day, and did they and, say, string theorists refer to the same categories of narrative and evidence to support their claims? How can any past philosophers, who had only the "science" of their day to generalize, still be relevant?
pk (anonymous profile)
April 1, 2011 at 8:40 p.m. (Suggest removal)
PK, I hope you would agree that I've never used the strategy of "so and so demonstrated X." I've certainly cited philosophers and scientists to support my case but I've tried to make clear that all of my arguments are a matter of greater credibility or believability (narrative) rather than proof. There is no proof on these issues.
Whitehead was very explicit in his attempts to generalize physics and he wrote his works right when relativity and quantum mechanics were bursting onto the scene in a big way. Some describe Whitehead as the last comprehensive system-creating philosopher because that type of philosophy went out of fashion in favor of more focused works.
As for previous philosophers, yes, many have also been quite explicit in their attempts to generalize science: Descartes, Leibniz, Locke, Spinoza, etc. These efforts have sometimes been successful in terms of lasting insight and at other times not so much.
TamHunt (anonymous profile)
April 3, 2011 at 12:25 p.m. (Suggest removal)