Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Thinking Outside the Universe: Part 6 of 6 - The Image of God

 

Why do people laugh at dirty jokes? What is it that makes them funny? Now before I seriously explore this question, let me say that I have been conditioned to not laugh at dirty jokes. I certainly don’t tell them and I try not to laugh at them, and I hope you do too. But this is a result of training. If you are not trained to look askance at dirty jokes, you too will be inclined to laugh at them. So to return to the question: what makes a dirty joke funny?

     One of the things that makes us laugh is when we see something that seems ridiculously out of place. If you go to the circus, you may see a bear dressed up in a ballet costume and standing on its toes. If you do, it will strike you as funny – the ballet costume on the bear is ridiculously out of place. I would suggest that this is what makes dirty jokes funny. Dirty jokes focus on people, but always on the earthy, physical and animal-like qualities and functions of people. And this is funny because it seems out of place. We all know – deep down, at some level, that humans have some higher and more transcendent quality than what is described in the dirty joke. The Bible calls this quality being created “in the image of God.” However, the Bible also says we were created from the dust of the earth, the same stuff as the animals. We are animals, and dirty jokes remind us of that, but we are also something much greater – eternal spiritual beings, created in the image of God. It’s an image that came all the way from outside of the universe. The earthy nature seems way out of place on a spiritual being. It’s like the bear in the ballet costume. It makes us laugh – as long as we’re not offended. So next time someone tells you a dirty joke, maybe you can explain to them how they’ve just provided an argument for the image of God.  

The image of God is something that is on all of us, and it’s extra-natural.

Maybe some of you have had a well loved pet that got very old. I have. Eventually, the pet begins to suffer from one of the ravages of old age, and you have to make the painful decision to have the animal put down. You take your pet to the vet, and the vet kills the pet in the most humane way possible, and you cry about it. The thing you are doing is not cruel – you are doing it out of love. Your animal’s quality of life has gone and you don’t want your animal to suffer.

     What happens when a human being gets old and begins to suffer in the same way? It’s very painful for all concerned, but we generally do not make the same decision that we do for the animal. We are likely to choose palliative care to minimize our loved one’s suffering, and we may opt for no heroic measures to maintain a loved one’s life, but we do not – at least most of us do not - choose to kill them. Why not? We love them, we don’t want to see them suffer. We even may pray for their life to end. But killing them is something we can’t do. The reason is that every human being carries the image of God – something so great and extra-natural that we have no right to end it.

The image of God is on all of us, and it’s extra-natural.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this discussion of things outside the universe. I know I haven’t covered them all. A good case could be made for adding extra chapters on faith, hope and love. I’ll leave that for someone else. Thanks for reading.

 

Thinking Outside the Universe: Part 5 of 6 - Artificial Intelligence

 

In the previous chapters I talked about reason and math as being things that have their origin outside of the universe. One objection some readers might have relates to computers and artificial intelligence. Computers exist entirely inside the universe, of course, so if a computer does the same thing a human mind does, then that would be an argument that math and reasoning do not originate outside the universe.

Now the first response to this objection needs to be that computers only do what humans program them to do, and humans program them with mathematical laws, but I’d like to move the discussion a little beyond that.

The reader would not be blamed if he supposed that computers think something like we do, though perhaps with not quite the same level of intelligence. This idea has become popularized in so many different ways that it is quite ingrained. In fact, sometimes people even ask the question – when will computers be able to pass up humans? The question itself reveals confusion as to what a computer actually does. I’d like to offer a couple of examples describing why the thing that computers do is not the same thing as what humans do.

Can you multiply two five digit numbers in your head and give the correct answer within one second, and never make a mistake? I believe there are a few human prodigies that do that kind of thing, but I certainly can’t and you probably can’t either. But computers have been doing this for more than 70 years. So in a sense, computers passed us up 70 years ago. Let’s simplify it a little. Can you multiply two one-digit numbers in your head and give the correct answer within one second? I can, and many of you can too. If you asked me to multiple seven times eight, I could immediately say 56. The computer will do that too. However, the computer is not doing the same thing I am doing. The reason I can say 7 x 8 = 56 is because way back in elementary school some teacher made me memorize my times tables. So I have the answer memorized. The computer, on the other hand, doesn’t have the answer memorized. Every time you ask the computer to multiply something, it calculates it. The way the computer solves the problem of 7 x 8 is that it first converts 7 and 8 into binary form. Binary form is a base 2 numbering system, a system that instead of having digits from 0 to 9 only has digits 0 and 1. That’s convenient for computers because it can be modeled with electric signals on or off, or switches on or off. In binary, 7 = 00000111 and 8 = 00000100. Whenever a computer multiplies a number by 2, it “shifts” the binary number to the left, which is the same as adding a 0 to the end. To multiply by eight, it shifts to the left three times, which is the same as adding three zeroes to the end. Therefore, 7 x 8 = 00111000. It then has to convert 00111000 to decimal, making it 56. In short, the computer and I get to the same answer, but in different ways. I have 7 x 8 memorized and the computer calculates it.

     Now consider what happens if the problem is just a bit more complex, say multiplying 56 x 23. The answer is 1288. The computer would use the same computational approach, using a combination of shifts and adds, and get the answer essentially instantly. But what about me? I’m better at math than some people and I can do two-digit multiplication in my head, but I timed myself just now and it took me 37 seconds to get the answer. I don’t have 56 x 23 memorized. I had to multiple 56 x 2, then multiply that by ten, then try to remember that product while I multiplied 56 by 3, and finally add those two products together. What I was doing in this case was to start with what I had memorized, then try to extend that knowledge by computing - forcing my brain to act like a computer. I could do it, but not very well. It took a while, and although I got the answer right this time, I would often get that kind of computation wrong. If I had to multiply three-digit numbers in my head, I’m not sure I could do it.

     The bottom line is that when it comes to computing – computers passed us up long ago. When it comes to computing, humans can hold only the palest candle to what even the simplest computers do.

     Now let’s talk about a different kind of example. Computers can be programmed to play chess. Chess is a great game for computers, because it is a “pure” game – no knowledge of the real world is involved. A human knows what a chess piece feels like and a computer doesn’t, but that doesn’t matter – the computer doesn’t need to know that and it wouldn’t help if it did. So in a chess game between a human and a computer, the human’s knowledge of the real world doesn’t help the human at all.

     In 1996, a computer chess match of six games was arranged between a computer called “Deep Blue,” specially prepared by IBM to play chess against the then world champion, Garry Kasparov. Kasparov won the match. IBM went back to work and strengthened their program, and in a 1997 rematch, Deep Blue won. It was hailed as an important and momentous occasion, since computers had now passed up the best human in terms of chess-playing ability. However, I think the way we are looking at this story is upside-down. How could a human hope to even compete in a chess game against a computer? You see, what not many people understand is that when a computer is playing chess, it is not doing the same thing that humans do when a human is playing chess.

     As an illustration, I selected a position from game 6 of the 1997 Kasparov-Deep Blue match. If this is white’s move, he has a lot of choices. Each choice of moves could lead to advantages and disadvantages. How many potential chess moves do you think you could evaluate in one minute? I asked my son and he said he could evaluate ten moves in one minute. That seemed high to me, but let’s go with that. In this particular position from the 1997 match, I counted 41 possible moves for white. I may have counted wrong, but if that’s wrong it’s still close and it is still representative of what you would commonly see in the middle of a chess match. At the moment it looks like black has 37 possible responses, though that might change a little based on where white moves. Therefore, after one move by each player, there are 41 x 37 possible positions, or over 1000 possible positions. After two moves by each player, there will be over one million possible positions, and after three moves there will be over a billion. It is safe to say that no human chess player is evaluating a billion possible positions. However, that is what Deep Blue was doing, and it could look more than three moves ahead in just a few seconds. The computer looks at every possible move and evaluates how strong it is after each one. It does this by assigning a numerical value to each piece, something like a pawn = 1, a knight = 3, a rook = 5, and so on. Deep Blue will look as far into the future as its computing power allows and pick the move that gives it the best numerical value. A chess computer’s human programmers will enhance the computer’s ability by providing it with a set of the best-known chess game openings to ensure it never gets started on the wrong foot. Furthermore, within the limits of this kind of program, the computer will never make a mistake. It will never accidentally put its queen in the path of a knight, or anything foolish like that which human players do from time to time.

     So given all that, maybe we are looking at the human vs computer chess match all wrong. How is it that a human ever managed to beat a computer in the first place? How did we keep the advantage until 1997? Garry Kasparov was not evaluating a billion positions, or a million, or even a thousand. And unlike the computer, Kasparov could certainly make a mistake. The computer never did.

    To play chess, the computer is computing. The human is not doing that, at last not very much. The human player will have learned some principles about chess. The principles will be things like don’t bring your rook out too early in the game, because it is likely to get trapped by pieces of lesser value. On the other hand, at the end of a game, it’s best to have your rook ahead of your pawns rather than behind them. A human is likely to apply those principles when making a move, though they are hard to quantify. It may be far into the future before the principle produces any material advantage that a computer could see. Furthermore, a very advanced human is doing something else that you and I do not – and the computer doesn’t either.

     I once played a chess game against Susan Polgar when she was 17 years old. At the time, she was the top-rated female player in the world, though her younger sister Judit soon passed her up. (I lost, by the way.) Susan once participated in an exercise in which she sat at an outdoor café as a truck drove by. The truck had a chessboard painted on its side, with pieces in position for the middle of a game. Though she only saw the truck for a moment, Susan was able to correctly recreate the position on her own chess board. Next, the exercise was repeated, but this time, the chess pieces were in a position which was not possible (for example, a pawn can never be on the first rank since pawns start on the second rank and can only move forward.)

Susan was not able to recreate the illegal position. Further study has shown that very advanced chess players like Susan Polgar actually have adapted the facial recognition portion of their brain to recognize chess positions. Humans may not be very good at computing, but we are great at facial recognition. If we once meet someone and look well at their face, we are likely to recognize that same face for years, even if we don’t remember their name or where we met them. So humans playing chess don’t compute much – they compute a little bit, but choose largely based on principles, with the best players recognizing positions with the facial recognition portion of their brain.

     Speaking of facial recognition – computers are beginning to do that too. How do computers recognize faces? Facial recognition software makes lots of three-dimensional measurements on the face, closely measuring things like the distance between the eyes, the width of the nose, the depth of the eye sockets, etc. How does the human brain recognize faces? It’s not the same way. Neither you nor I measure the length of someone’s jaw line in order to recognize them.

     The conclusion I am trying to get to is this: Computers compute, while the human brain computes very little and not very well. What the human mind does is different, and the human brain to computer analogy is not as strong as we often think it is. Everything that goes on inside a computer is obviously part of the physical universe. But the human mind is very different from a computer, so some of the things that happen in a human mind can be outside of it.

     Suggested reading on this subject would be the book Computer Power and Human Reason, by Joseph Weizenbaum. It’s quite an old book for one on computers, but don’t be put off by that – Mr. Weizenbaum says much of what I was trying to say in this section, and he does so more clearly than I do.

Thinking Outside the Universe: Part 4 of 6 - Math

 

Does math exist outside of the universe? I mean, if there were less than four atoms that existed, would 2 + 2 still equal 4? It would, because math is conceptual. It exists outside of, and independent of, the physical properties of the universe. Let’s think about it.

I laughed once when I read about a fellow who said: “I believe in positive numbers. I’m not sure if I believe in zero or not. I guess you could say I am agnostic about zero. I certainly don’t believe in negative numbers. And don’t even get me started on imaginary numbers!”

I can’t remember who said the quote above. It seems like a kind of a loopy thing to say, but the guy would have a point, if math depended entirely on the physical universe. “2” is a positive number. I can have two apples. But how could I ever have negative two apples? It doesn’t really make sense.

Still, we have many good uses for negative numbers; they express real-life situations. At NASA, if we are launching a rocket at 8:00, we have a countdown clock that starts before 8:00 with a negative number (“T minus” a certain value) and counts up to zero. Then when the rocket launches at 8:00, that clock then crosses over to positive territory and counts upward, becoming what we call a Mission Elapsed Time. Financial statements often record debts as negative numbers and assets as positive numbers. So at least we have some uses for negative numbers.

In Europe, mathematicians began using zero commonly around the 11th or 12th century A.D., though much of the population continued to use Roman numerals (which do not have a zero) into the 15th century. Using a zero makes math a lot easier, even if it’s just a representation for nothing.

So I think we can say that positive numbers, negative numbers and zero all have some kind of real representation in a natural universe. However, math can be extended far beyond what we see in the natural universe.

Currently, we have three-dimensional mathematical models that we use to predict the weather. They are three dimensional because we live within three dimensions. However, we could extend our mathematical models to model a four, five, or six dimensional world – or any number of dimensions. The math isn’t constrained by natural reality. There wouldn’t be any way to check our six-dimensional model against real-world weather to see how accurate it is, but there’s nothing preventing us from developing a model.

We can use math to design things, producing things which may not even be present anywhere in nature, yet are still beautiful. Fractals are an example.

Math is a product of the mind. But it is not the product of a human mind. Human minds can discover mathematical laws, and if different people discover the same thing, they may use different terminology, but the laws remain the same. So if math is a product of the mind, but not the human mind, whose is the mind that came up with math? Math came from the mind that is outside the universe – the mind of God.

So if math originates from outside of the universe, here is a very strange fact: the universe obeys mathematical laws. Why should the universe obey laws that are not part of the universe? And yet it does. The force due to gravity is the gravitational constant times the mass of an object divided by the distance between the objects squared. That’s a law, and all bodies in the universe were obeying that law long before we discovered it. The reason the universe obeys mathematical laws is that the mind that created the mathematical laws was the same mind that created the universe – the mind of God.

Perhaps the reader may be thinking about an objection to this argument about reason and math – an objection based on computers. Computers do math, and they reason (or at least appear to), but computers don’t get that ability from anything outside the universe. There is nothing extra-natural about a computer. This is a serious objection and I will deal with it in the next chapter.

Thinking Outside the Universe: Part 3 of 6 - Reason

 

C.S. Lewis, the British writer and sometimes theologian, talked about the nature of reason in a number of his books. He developed the idea most thoroughly in the opening section of his book Miracles. I would commend that book to you, since he says all this much more clearly than I ever could. Lewis was an atheist as a young adult, but thinking about reason compelled him to change his mind. It didn’t make him a Christian – that came later, but it did make him an unhappy theist. Unhappy, because he didn’t want it to be true. He just realized that it had to be.

     In a naturalistic worldview, the cosmos is everything. All the motion of atoms, electrons and other parts of the cosmos as it exists today can be traced to previous motions of the same, going on and on all the way back to the big bang and on and on all the way into the future. When I say “everything that happens,” that includes everything you think and believe, including any kind of reasoning you do – it’s all determined by naturalistic processes. Lewis puts it this way:

One absolutely central inconsistency ruins [the naturalistic worldview].... The whole picture professes to depend on inferences from observed facts. Unless inference is valid, the whole picture disappears.... [U]nless Reason is an absolute--all is in ruins. Yet those who ask me to believe this world picture also ask me to believe that Reason is simply the unforeseen and unintended by-product of mindless matter at one stage of its endless and aimless becoming. Here is flat contradiction. They ask me at the same moment to accept a conclusion and to discredit the only testimony on which that conclusion can be based.

C. S. Lewis, "Is Theology Poetry?", The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses

The argument can be summarized as follows:

1.       No belief is rationally inferred if it can be fully explained in terms of non-rational causes

2.       If naturalism is true, then all beliefs can be fully explained in terms of non-rational causes.

3.       Therefore, if naturalism is true, then no belief is rationally inferred (from 1 and 2).

4.       Therefore, naturalism undercuts itself, because we cannot rationally believe it or anything else.

Although this argument may sound new, we all intuitively know it. I’m sure that everyone has heard an argument in which one person says “you just believe that because…,” as in, “You’re just opposed to such and such because you’re a woman.” You’ll notice that the response to that is always something along the lines of “it’s not because I’m just a woman, it’s because…” followed by some line of reasoning independent of “just being a woman.” We do this because we know that if our reasoning has a cause that’s just inside of us, it’s invalid. If the reason we favor ethanol subsidies is because we are farmers that make money on them, then it’s not a good reason – we need to argue based on a standard that is available to all. You would never hear someone argue that “I am against slavery reparations because I am white.” The problem with any of these statements is that as soon as a non-rational cause for one’s reasoning is exposed, the reasoning is considered invalid. For reasoning to be valid, it can’t be dependent on a non-rational cause. For a naturalist, this is a problem, because all the thoughts in one’s head have a cause. Thoughts are caused by the movement of atoms and electrons in the brain. Those movements were caused by previous movements going on and on all the way back to the big bang or whatever, and none of those causes was rational. For a naturalist, reasoning leads to the conclusion that reasoning is not reasonable.

    Therefore, for reasoning to be valid, it has to originate from outside of nature. If that idea sounds outrageous, I’d like to point out that it is not original even among scientists. Johannes Kepler, the 17th century German scientist and mathematician, said that scientific inquiry was “thinking God’s thoughts after him.” When we reason correctly, we are thinking God’s thoughts.

     Did I say mathematician? If reason has its origin outside of the universe, what about math? That’s the next topic we should discuss.