knowledge breach

I often mention the frankly awe-inspiring ability of people to compartmentalize, because even now I think it's not always appreciated enough. They can separate their views of reality into compartments, consciously or not, neatly or not, and then they can treat their compartments much differently. Part of the reason I emphasize this is to explain that I wasn't totally irrational when I followed supernatural beliefs, and that's also true of a lot of people who still do. Thanks to compartmentalization, they may live in ways that mostly seem sensible, or they may hold a variety of opinions that mostly seem sensible, yet they assert that once upon a time a god was human.

At the same time, as I've previously described, compartmentalization gradually quit working for me. That's why I ended up discarding the beliefs I had followed. There was a breach. It wasn't a data breach but a knowledge breach. My knowledge about reality kept invading the supposed "knowledge" provided by my former beliefs. It poured in faster and faster until it swept away the counterfeits. 

I had grown thoroughly convinced of the fundamental principle that an idea is real to the extent that its predicted impacts are confirmed by actions, observations, and reasoning. Furthermore, the very definition of realness is this principle. The breach happened as I questioned why I had been raised to have a compartment that was exempt from this superb principle—and then I realized that the need for the compartment was due to the failure of the beliefs inside it to meet the standard. In retrospect, of course the least credible beliefs were the ones accompanied by the loudest appeals to faith. 

But that was my experience. Lately I've been noticing that knowledge breaches occur in the other direction too. Rather than a breach that exposes unverified knowledge to attack, there are breaches that expose the verified sort. The principle behind these is simply the distorted mirror image of the other principle. I'd characterize it as a lengthy ramble: "Knowledge gained through human senses and reason is fallible and unimpressive. Impartial and systematic investigation is an impossible myth. It mocks the all-important contributions made by what we feel to be right and what we've been taught through time-honored tradition and communication with the divine. Everybody lies all the time and prizes their goals more than objective truth. Their goals might be profit, political power, or flat-out hatred of goodness. Anyone who says they can demonstrate the accuracy of their ideas deserves no more consideration than someone who uses their common-sense to rant. Plus, as long as it's possible to cite a different poorly-run 'study', an anecdote on a website, or someone who's an expert in an entirely unrelated field, then that means there's equal proof for the conclusions I'm comfortable with. Confirmation bias is something I need to watch out for? Whatever, I've never heard of it. Every idea that's contrary to my wishes or deeply-held intuitions is being spread by evil widespread conspiracies, and the goal of those conspiracies is to destroy everything I care about. Experts and organizations made up of experts are wholly devoted to these conspiracies, no matter what they may say. Naturally, everyone who says they're similar to me but has good reasons to disagree with me is a traitor and a fraud. Trust is based solely on whether someone grew up in the correct culture and whether they're committed to the correct groups, causes, and figureheads. There are more of us than them, which implies that they only win through deception. Anything they claim, we'll automatically accept the opposite. Our scriptures literally use sheep as a metaphor for us, and that's a good thing."

That ramble was intended as an exaggerated extreme...but sad to say it's not that far off from the mindset of some people. The point is the knowledge breach that it can cause. Like I did, they probably have compartments in which they selectively do or don't define an idea's realness by its confirmed impacts. The difference is the path they're going down. I wondered why I was allowing the reality of some of my beliefs to be defined under laxer philosophical rules. In their minds they're wondering why they're allowing the reality of some of their beliefs to be defined under the illegitimate rules of the culture they consider themselves at war with. 

Perhaps truths in the supernatural domain are completely decided by the irrefutable sayings and writings of one's culture, or by the dictatorial authorities within that culture, or by the truths someone feels, or by judging the degree that something is in subjective harmony with one's preexisting assumptions and aims. If these are the methods for absolute truth in the domain that controls everything they think and do, then they may be easily convinced to reapply these faulty methods in other compartments as well. At that point the original dividing line is blurred and the high-quality knowledge they did have is exposed to the breach. Falsehoods masquerading as truths move in. The lack of skepticism spreads. It metastasizes like cancer.

Unfortunately, the risk of this is plain to see. This knowledge breach is like a keypad lock programmed with the numbers 1-2-3-4. Anyone who uses the relevant combination of inputs could use the breach to cynically push "knowledge" in for their own purposes. I hate to see it happen. When the consequences are worse health, wasting money, acting against someone's own interest, feeling fear and anger toward others or even toward imaginary foes, paying all attention to short-term effects, and on and on, discussions about the definition of realness start to not seem so trivial after all. 

calling a temptation cease-fire

I've been critiquing some of the attitudes and opinions that I've frequently seen in people who structure their lives around supernatural beliefs. Sometimes these are far different from mine, but sometimes there are similarities. For instance, I think it's clear that we share a common experience of facing temptations. One of the major pros of leaving the beliefs behind is that plenty of the "wrong" thoughts and actions simply don't seem wrong to me now, and so some of these often trivial "temptations" have stopped being problems.

Nevertheless, some temptations apply to me still. It might be the temptation to overeat an unhealthy snack or surrender to an unpleasant habit. It might be the temptation to procrastinate about a task that must be done sometime. It might be the temptation to assume the worst about someone else's motivations. It might be the temptation to litter. In any case, the temptation is for a temporary and/or minor benefit that comes with a substantial cost. Worse, the cost might only take effect in the future or gradually over time, or it might affect others more than oneself.  

The crucial differences start to appear when the basic idea of temptation is put into the larger context of how someone views reality. Within the culture that I left, temptation is consistently seen as a deadly serious battle. It's an attack from an antagonist such as the evilness someone is born with, the pleasures of the world, or diabolical spirits. Because of that, the struggle is treated as a test of inner strength. It's an arm-wrestling match between the temptation and force of will. The eight-year-old who has the impulse to steal a candy bar is in the middle of a cosmic theater of war in which good and evil are firing heavy artillery.

When I consider this picture in my present frame of mind, I'm struck by how counterproductive it is. Regardless of what the temptation is about, handling it as a hard-fought battle isn't a wise strategy. I've become more familiar with alternatives. I'd argue that it's better, when the temptation first forms, to not charge at it full-speed. Instead, leave it be and let it pass.

I don't refer to pretending the temptation doesn't exist. On the contrary, I mean that it is to be seen fully, without flinching away from it, as the bare thought that it is. It's a "bare" thought in the sense that it doesn't need to be inflated into something big and scary. It doesn't need to be focused on or connected up to anything else. Does it produce a reaction of desire in the person tempted? Of course. And neither is it useful to pretend that this reaction doesn't exist. Bare thoughts of all kinds evoke reactions constantly. The fact that a thought evokes a reaction doesn't imply that the thought merits even more of a reaction (a counter-reaction and then a counter-counter-reaction, and so forth). 

Admittedly, there are challenging subtleties to this approach. First is emphasizing that it's not the same as simplistically ignoring temptation. To focus on banishing the thought, forcefully replacing it, or coming up with counterarguments, is to prolong the thought and "play its game". The recommendation is to recognize it, observe its futile efforts to be provocative, and endure its temporary effects. Simultaneously its pull is only observed too, in the sense that it's felt without being linked to corresponding action. It's like tugging on a rope tied around a tree trunk.  

The main thing is to steadily break the mentality that if a temptation thought isn't fought, then it's only a matter of time before the tempted person will act on it. Fear of the experience of having the thought, and the self-defeating determination to ignore it all costs, is tied to the assumption that the sole path to not perform the particular behavior is to strenuously never have the thought. However a thought is a thought; it's not the act and it's no more than brain activity. Someone who's sitting quietly and experiencing a temptation is still only sitting quietly.

On the other hand, I wouldn't say that it involves embracing the temptation thought either—granting it a stamp of approval or relishing it. Merely watching it calmly until it fades doesn't imply that someone is welcoming the thought. Refusing to feed the thought is to withhold either strong acceptance or strong rejection from it, until it starves by itself or its repetitiousness just grows uninteresting (or annoying). This is why it works better when it's applied as early as possible, when the temptation pops up, before it's progressed to dominating mental attention. Someone doesn't think "This is just a bare thought; I can enjoy it for a bit as long as I don't take action". They do think "This is just a bare thought; I see the desires it provokes but I'm not under the dictatorship of something that appears and vanishes without hurting me in a lasting way". 

Another motto to describe it is that temptation is normal. It's no cause for dread once someone is comfortable with that fact. The existence of an unfulfilled desire isn't a never-ending torture! If it's genuinely left alone and not dwelt upon, it will likely diminish in minutes. If it arises again in an hour's time then so be it. It will again likely diminish in minutes at that time too. (This doesn't work for something like hunger pangs, naturally.) Depending on personality, keeping a sense of humor about the whole thing might be good advice. 

Furthermore, a coping strategy for temptation pairs well with prevention. Shrinking temptation down to the size of a bare thought is good, but stopping the thought from forming at all is better. One of the reasons it's a relief to think of a temptation as a thought is that thoughts can have plain origins like anything does. If a temptation thought regularly comes about in a specific situation, then that situation can be avoided. Being less worried about the experience of temptation when it happens isn't a reason to be careless about letting it happen in the first place. 

Prevention is immensely useful, but it comes with its own layer of subtlety. The situations to prevent have both external and internal contributions. A person's surroundings can matter but so can the condition of the person. Tempting thoughts could be frequently seen alongside boredom, fatigue, rage, sadness, isolation, or something else. These general conditions might not be preventable—sometimes life gets hard—but it's smart to recognize that these can affect the number and the strength of tempting thoughts. And then someone will know to expect the increase when the conditions return.   

The final subtlety is that letting temptation pass is far from a perfect strategy. There will probably be instances in which someone sees the temptation thought for what it is...and proceeds to choose to obey it. (Any strategy at all can give someone "room" to analyze a decision, but it won't make the decision for them.) Afterward, the tempting thought's return will stir up ruminations on the past and the associated shame and regret. 

But responding to it by ruminating on the past is yet another method to fuel it. Obviously, the only time someone can act is in the present. A failure in the past isn't an absolute prediction for how someone will respond now. Perhaps someone has obeyed a specific temptation numerous times, with little hesitation. Such a trend doesn't inspire hope, but perhaps this case today could very well be the start of a new trend. This case could be the turning point if someone chooses it to be. The amount of control someone has to change their future is limited, but that amount of limited control is infinitely greater than the zero control they have to change their past.