Sunday, August 30, 2026

a triangular chisel

I've often mentioned that my mental outlook underwent a seismic change years ago. After the change, like a patient chisel, it gradually chipped away the solid bedrock of my former supernatural views. At the very end I could see the broken pieces for what they were and sweep them away. The work couldn't have gone any faster; these views had been part of my psyche since early childhood development.

But it's been some time since I simply stated what that mental outlook is. I like to think of it as a triangle, because its three parts interact and depend on each other. I classify it as Pragmatism-ish; it's too colored by my own preferences and too poorly laid out to be plain Pragmatist philosophy. The three parts are

  • Ideas. Ideas are never in short supply, because people create ideas so naturally. This is good, but it comes with the inherent problem that ideas can exist without a connection to anything at all. Ideas fall into bewildering varieties of fiction and nonfiction, bare truths and elaborate lies, wild speculations and careful theories, literal confessions and metaphorical tales. Being too quick to grant credence to any idea in isolation is a fool's error, even if the idea is coming from a self-described Truth-teller. Supporting one incorrect idea with another incorrect idea won't be an improvement, obviously. The ideas must be firmly linked to something outside...
  • Realities. In contrast to the ocean of ideas that people swim in, realities are scarcer and more difficult to obtain. Plus, all people encounter realities through the "lens of themselves". Each person is finite and they're able to think outside themselves only by significant effort. Therefore, at least by default, the realities a person proposes can't be assumed to be objective. The objectivity is a quality that needs to be demonstrated. And just because one idea's objectivity is firm, we can't assume that every follow-up idea about it is is as equally objective. (Side remark: Pragmatism-ish is a set of very general observations about what it's like to be a person existing in the world. It's real to the extent that the observations are good summaries of those experiences.)
  • Actions/Outcomes. If the domain of ideas is distinct from the domain of realities, yet people don't have a reliable inborn "sense" for the overlap between the two domains, then what can people do to rectify this? The answer is they can take action. When they act according to an idea, the outcome is a clue for the connection between the idea and realities. The twist here is that the innocent term "action" covers an oddly broad range. Following a logical argument is an action. Opening one's eyes and interpreting what one sees is an action. Reading an article is an action. Calculating statistics is an action. Predicting a result based on one or more causes is action. And judging the outcome's meaning and significance is too, of course. The fact that a person thinking deeply in an armchair is performing an action is a reminder that mental actions can have similar problems as physical actions...such as fatigue or emotional compromise at the time. Brains are organs. I've sometimes written that thinking is a "brain action".
The consistent use of the triangle leads to a few consequences. One is the same point from the introduction: that each vertex of the triangle is kind of flimsy without the others to give it structure. An idea detached from realities and actions isn't that convincing. A so-called reality that is beyond the comprehension of ideas, or a reality that has no impact on anything people do, isn't convincing either. Neither is an action that's carried out without reference to anything thoughtful or real, such as a mysterious ritual or superstition. Like a cord of three strands (mixed metaphors ahoy!), the triangle is self-reinforcing and stronger as a whole. Prioritizing mind over matter or vice-versa would be a mistake.

A second major consequence is that actions can take many different shapes, so outcomes can take many different shapes, so the ideas found to be realities can take many different shapes. The degree of confidence can vary greatly too. This is the reason that we describe realities more than we describe "Reality". In the same way, we describe truths more than we describe "Truth", or we say an idea is more accurate or less accurate than another.

Another inescapable consequence is that progress tends to be incremental. Even an action that seems to be a clear confirmation could be misleading in the long run. Individual actions aren't generally that grand, and people cope by repeating and accumulating outcomes from such little actions. There isn't a hotline that we can pick up and instantly receive whatever perfect truths we seek—when someone offers such a hotline, or offers to be that hotline, we should be supremely skeptical. A truth is more like a brick building that we must construct layer by layer, and the materials we have to build with are nothing special.

The final consequence might be the most radical of all. Perhaps the triangle's usefulness goes further. What if it became the way that an idea's meaning is analyzed in the first place? Instead of people talking in circles when they disagree about a complex idea, they could (honestly) explain the effects that their version of the idea has on real actions (actions considered in the above broad sense). And certain extremely abstract versions of the ideas, which have no impact on anything, would be either dropped for discussion altogether or demoted to a calmer level of passion.

Based on this approach, by the end, I wouldn't say that I was thinking as much about whether some of my beliefs had been true as much as I was thinking about what many of the beliefs had truly meant...if the beliefs had meant anything other than wishful or compassionate feelings.

Monday, August 17, 2026

a massive growing snowball of subtlety

From time to time, I hear a seemingly innocent statement from someone, but to me it has an effect more like a huge flashing sign that exclaims, "Ideas like this are part of why I dropped my old beliefs!" 

Today's example is when a reasonable-sounding person says with an amused chuckle, "I understand that you wish my beliefs were stark and sharply defined. That would make it easier for you to scrutinize and pick apart the beliefs. I'm sorry I must let you down. I'm simply more subtle than that. My philosophies are more like an art that I've mastered over time, not a science that produces dead numbers."

And of course the response has some merit. I certainly admit that reality is complex, and the complexity shouldn't be dismissed. The problem is that the escape hatch of thoughtful subtlety wears out pretty quickly when it's put to use in all the contexts that demand it.

  • Reapplying ancient texts to fit contemporary dilemmas? It's a subtle art.
  • Seeing the handiwork of the divine in everyday life? It's a subtle art.
  • Translating all possible outcomes of a prayer into a usable viewpoint of how the god reacted to the prayer? It's a subtle art. (Hint: just say that the reaction can be "Yes", "no", or "later". Presto! All the bases are covered.)  
  • Detecting the guidance of one or more gods or spirits about what to do? It's a subtle art.
  • Defining the intersection between physical reality and an intangible soul or mind, which is perfectly free in the sense that it only causes and is never caused? It's a subtle art.
  • Explaining why different sects of a religion all claim the same exact gods yet differ constantly about the correct rituals and doctrines? It's a subtle art.
  • Justifying why religious experiences and feelings are excellent ways to reach accurate conclusions for one religion, yet the same experiences and feelings are terrible ways to reach accurate conclusions in the context of all the incorrect religions? It's a subtle art.
  • Renovating foundational myths about creation to fit the facts of geological and evolutionary time? It's a subtle art.
  • Reforming morality from a very different historical period in order to remain sort-of the same as always, while not violating contemporary non-negotiables about how people should be treated? It's a subtle art.
  • Inventing solutions for beings that can have amazing powers and be compassionate without using their amazing powers to stop real evils? It's a subtle art.  
For me at least, the crux wasn't any single subtlety out of the list. It was the unceasing pressure of the whole list at once.  The mass of subtleties on subtleties on subtleties lost credibility. It's quite possible to maintain these subtle arts and to continue doing it for decades, especially if someone is motivated to not pay close attention. The most important rule is that one must never step back for a second, look around curiously, and ask the piercing question "What if the more sensible viewpoint here is that rather than something being very very very very subtle...that something was never there to start with?"

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

church as lottery investment pool

Followers of supernatural beliefs are advised to band together. This advice has some savvy reasons behind it. One is the social pressure to keep followers from deviating. Each individual wants to avoid the loss of status in others' eyes, so none will dare even one step toward withdrawing. Another reason is that being surrounded by a large group of followers offers comfort about the reasonableness of the beliefs. It's much less unnerving than the feeling that their belief is like walking out alone on a ledge, clinging to ideas that nobody else accepts. Yet another reason to encourage solidarity is so that the followers can consult each other to justify their beliefs. They can ask and answer each other's questions. This is especially handy because some beliefs provoke a very predictable set of questions. The group can continually repeat the common set of responses to those common questions. Beyond helping to address each other's questions in words, followers can model the beliefs. Seeing the beliefs demonstrated is more compelling than reading the beliefs from a book. 

For all these reasons and more, shepherding followers into tightly packed flocks is widely recognized as important, if not indispensable, for maintaining their beliefs long-term. A follower who is merely starting to break away is like a flashing warning sign that their beliefs might be at risk. No wonder followers who move are strongly urged to rejoin other followers nearby. And followers who don't show up regularly can expect to be asked about their absence ("for their own good").

But there's a more subtle reason also at work. A huge difficulty with any supernatural idea is that its impact on detectable reality is normally so slight. In fact, someone who examines the impact in a neutral and careful way may begin to wonder whether it's there at all. Needless to say this could reflect very badly on their confidence that the idea is real. It might seem to "pay off" about as frequently as a lottery ticket.

To some degree, followers can cope by conveniently forgetting almost all times when the idea "misses its chance" to have an effect. (I once compared this to playing Battleship without any white pegs, so the player can go on thinking whatever they like about their opponent's fleet positions.) However, they can do even better through the combined effort of a group: the more followers there are, the more players are contributing to the "supernatural confirmation lottery". The group can pool their results by eagerly keeping in touch about anyone's payoff. Perhaps follower A hasn't seen any good signs lately that their supernatural ideas are credible, while follower B has seen an adequate sign last week—or a sign that meets the need if the viewer tilts their head and squints just right, anyway.

The lottery comparison is apt because some events are certain to happen eventually purely by chance. There are such things as beneficial coincidences from time to time; these would occur naturally without any behind-the-scenes supernatural fiddling. Assuming beneficial coincidences are reliable signals of the supernatural intersecting with reality (a bad assumption in my opinion of course...), then a sizable group of followers can expect to see these signals more than an isolated follower. This is just the same phenomenon as how a pool of investors buying lottery tickets can expect to experience a greater total of winnings over a specific period. 

And it's boosted further when the group doesn't keep track of the group's total number of misses any more consistently than an individual does about their own. For that matter, the followers simply don't bother to report their misses to the group anyhow. (Neither do they exchange notes with groups of followers of drastically different supernatural beliefs. If they saw this strategy working equally as well for groups who follow "false" religions then that might lead to hard questions.)

Far too often I've gotten the impression that followers of supernatural beliefs are viewed as sloppy or lazy thinkers. This stereotype might be about as accurate as their stereotype that atheists are amoral schemers whose goal is to outlaw every form of religion. The truth is more interesting and could be described with many metaphors. Their thinking is compromised. It's functional but infected. They've been fed skillful misinformation. They're aimed at the wrong targets. They're viewing the world through colored goggles that filter out contrary clues. They're perpetuating a time-tested system of beliefs that have endured because so many humans are susceptible to this system. I wouldn't say that this is a full excuse for how they think and especially not for how they act, but it's a basis for understanding them.