The Story of Schrodinger's Apple

Sometimes, inspiration and insight can come from the strangest places. This post, gathered from a series on my old site, describes my experiences with the classic symbol for morality: The apple (as in, the fruit of knowledge of good and evil.) It started with a dream that some would consider blasphemous, a journey into the world of myth and metaphor, and ended up with some of the ideas I wrote about last week. I've condensed it all into one post, so you'll have to forgive me if it is a bit more tangential than usual-or if I'm relaxing in a hot spring somewhere, rather than editing it.

The Weirdest Dream I Ever Had

I had this dream:

Somehow, I was Eve, exploring Eden. (There was an Adam in the dream too, but that is another story.) Knowing I was in Eden, I didn't want to do anything to disturb it or lose it. So, I simply watched. I watched as, by cause and effect, from one small action after another, the world unfolded before me. When it reached the point where it looked to me exactly as it did today, both Adam and I looked at each other in shock. How could it be? If we hadn't left the garden, how could the modern world, with all of the strangeness and sadness, even be there? Adam turned to me, and asked if I'd eaten the apple. Apple? What apple? I didn't eat any apples... When I couldn't answer, we rushed back to the tree. There, the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil hung... and didn't. It was flashing in and out of existence like snow on an untuned TV. As we puzzled over the apple's existence, or non-existence, as it were, a loud, disembodied voice came from above. The voice said, "It's Schrodinger's Apple."

That was when I awoke... shaken, but curious. The image of Schrodinger's apple has stayed with me, and come to symbolize the "grayness" of morality. (If you are scratching your head, and saying "who's Schrodinger?" try good ol' Wikipedia. He's better known for using cats... I can't say if he even liked apples.)

In my attempts to straighten this out, I wrote a short essay on moral theory. Even when I returned to college shortly thereafter, (where I learned that such a thing should be called a "moral theory" and discovered others had spent lifetimes trying to construct such ideas) I found that it still worked. It parallels other philosophers in some ways, and also in some ways, rejects them all, as it doesn't make any attempts to divide reality into a subjective or objective concept. It is truly both, if based on a superposition of values, like Schrodinger's apple... things are absolute, in that they are always complexities of parts, and some discrete parts are subject to change. Ah, but the following short essay describes this in far more simple terms:

Black and White or Shades of Gray?

What is morality? No textbook definition has ever seemed satisfying, or at the very least, complete. It seemed somewhat clear to me that "right" and "wrong" must be as clearly defined as the colors black and white; hence morality would be a simple concept to define, and there should exist no "grayness" in between. This turned out to be wishful thinking on my part. Like the rest of nature, morality is both intricately complex and seductively simple; and like the rest of nature, is a matter of quantum interactions.

To the smallest scales, the universe is a series of causes and effects. An individual moment is defined by the pattern of matter or energy in that space and time. Any change to the state of the matter or energy creates a change in the pattern. The pattern is either reinforced by a positive change or it is disturbed and scattered by a negative change, where it ceases to exist. Each pattern, then, undergoes a evolutionary selection, either surviving through a positive change, or is eliminated through a negative one. Morality is defined by each individual moment; either the survival or the selection of the existence of its pattern.

Nothing occurs alone in a vacuum; all moments are connected, as the universe is one. A series of moments and the changes that occur as a result become pages in a history book, the events that shape our existence. While each moment may be clearly defined as being positive or negative, when set alongside its neighbors (related moments and the connecting effects) differing values result. Imagine an event as a black and white photograph; each moment is expressed as a pixel, either black or white (black representing a negative change, white representing a positive change.) Looking at the picture from a distance, many black and white pixels side by side appear gray. These shades of gray may appear to blend together, creating a neutral balance.

Take for example a rung from the food chain in the African savanna. The lioness ends the life of the antelope with her actions but feeds her young, who are given a chance at survival. While one antelope (perhaps a slow and reluctant one) loses its life, other antelope in the herd are given more opportunity to survive. (One less mouth to feed, so to speak.) Both positive and negative effects result, and a neutral balance is struck. Life in the savanna continues.

This is not to say that every photograph has a perfect balance of neutral grays. Some are dark, filled with black pixels, the negatives overpowering the positives; extinctions, genocide, holocaust. Others are glowing with light, white pixels representing growth and continued existence; births, discoveries, love. In general, however, most events in the universe involve complex levels of moments with multiple positive and negative effects. When represented in the pixels in a photograph, these create images with contrast, interest, and diversity.

Outside of the most extreme examples, when one looks at an event as a whole it is difficult to see any distinct 'rightness' or 'wrongness.' As a whole, it may appear to be dominated by one aspect or another, but without detailed examination, this is merely a perception, possibly false. On the other hand, looking at only the individual aspects of an event can create false perceptions of the whole. For instance, examining one corner of a photograph will not give an accurate sense of the whole image; to look at a certain section and only see light does not mean the rest of the photograph is dominated by darkness. When one tries to say an event is arbitrarily right or wrong, they are generally speaking of their perceptions of the image; They are either looking at the whole, blanketing it with judgment, ignoring the effects of its individual parts, or they try to judge the whole by the value of an individual aspect.

Arguments over morality occur when one seeks to lay responsibility for events that have occurred. Since morality is self-defining, then so is responsibility, but only for each individual effect. It is as impossible to take responsibility for the larger event as it is to see a photograph from a distance and at a close proximity simultaneously. Yet, some have long sought to label whole events and the actions of people as distinctly "right" or "wrong." They neglect responsibilities for the individual effects and try to assign them to the greater whole. In doing so, they are looking at an entire image and calling it one distinct color or another; ignoring the many shades of gray. Is it possible that by doing so they are causing a hindrance to our understanding and perhaps even to our evolution itself?

Watch carefully the effects of the individual events in life; it is clearly evident when one should take responsibility. If each is guided by a code of self-responsibility, encouraging the promotion of existence, then individually we will enrich our existence, and find the path of evolution a fairly smooth one. However, if we try to assign responsibilities and blame beyond the events we are directly involved in, we will make any change or improvement difficult for others and ourselves. Admire the many shades of gray; their diversities are the art of existence.

(originally written 2/12/2004)

The Perception of Values

Now that I've discussed the idea that the world is constructed on an array of complex values, I must admit something. Every time I've told this to another philosopher, they've balked. The idea that values exist before an experience is contrary to just about every philosophic view out there, not to mention, contrary to our every day experience. When confronted on this issue, I don't budge. On the other hand, I'm quite sure that is the way the world is... it is just our perception that is reversed.

Human experience is a seemingly chaotic jumble--a fact I'm sure anyone could agree with, after trying to have a "good" day--and this jumble rearranges as time passes. Those connections of value are always there, but it becomes difficult, if not impossible to distinguish them individually while in the middle of on experience. (That explains the old proverb, "hindsight is 20/20".)

So, going back to dreaming of Eden, was this always true? Or perhaps, did we once understand basic values, and take their complexities for granted? Perhaps, like Plato suggested so long ago, we have an innate knowledge of certain values, a sense of basic geometry, or, in other words, a sense of the aesthetics of shape that holds the world together.

It, of course, doesn't hurt that scientists have recently shown that such an innate sense of geometry exists. To do this, they gave basic, non-verbal tests to a group of Amazonian villagers, called the Munduruku. They were shown groups pictures of basic shapes or lines, and then asked to choose which of the group was different. The villagers did quite well, showing that without any mathematical education, they were aware of most of the basic concepts.

An MSNBC report summarized the results well, as well as offering a sample test (just in case you want to compare yourself with the Munduruku.) They summarize here:

Considering the 43 sets of images together, the Munduruku villagers got about two-thirds of the answers right. Munduruku children and adults did about as well as the 26 U.S. children the researchers tested. A group of 28 U.S. adults did better than any of the other groups. Nevertheless, the Munduruku and U.S. participants had the most trouble with the same questions, which adds further evidence for the presence of core knowledge of geometry among the Munduruku, according to the team led by cognitive scientist Stanislas Dehaene from the College de France and INSERM in Paris.

The report did not contain any speculation as to the root of this innate knowledge, but did include a few doubts:

The new study described here is not likely to end the debate over just well and how universally humans understand geometry in the absence of schooling or exposure to words such as parallel, symmetry or right angle. Some scientists will continue to wonder how well the experiments actually test human understanding of geometry rather than visual perception abilities or intelligence.

Nevertheless, the authors of the new study conclude that they have uncovered evidence for a basic understanding of geometry among people without much formal education. Future research may clarify if humans are born with these intuitions or if we acquire them early in life.

I'd like to see more about the differences between "a human understanding of geometry" and "visual perception or intelligence." Just what is human understanding, if not intelligence (logic and reason) applied to perception? The journal article abstract is only two lines long, so I can't say if the authors went into more detail or not. I'll certainly be keeping my eye out for that future research. (Note: Here, almost a year later, I've still been meaning to do that. -K)

So, perhaps we do have an intuitive sense of all the geometric dimensions of reality, or even the passage of time, or of uncertainty. We can instinctively understand that certain arrangements have certain values, and that rearrangement can change the value... or we should be able to. What happened, to change this view, to make humans decide values could be blanketed over the masses?

Somewhere in our earliest civilizations, while doing the firsts of many things, writing, farming, and more, humans began to argue over which code of morality (along with which creation story, etc) was most correct. Even 10,000 years later, no one can seem to agree on a solid solution. Perhaps, after all this time, we are finally starting to rediscover the nature of values and uncertainty.

The Apple as a Symbol

I've always had a fascination for symbols (if my banner doesn't already show this.) I love how simple things, like an apple, can become such powerful symbols, thus containing far more meaning than simple definition. Sometimes, as in the case of the apple, the symbols cross cultures, but retain similar meanings.

The Greeks told the story of an apple, as well. On the occasion of a grand wedding on Olympus, those who made the guest list overlooked a certain goddess, Eris. Whether this was a simple mistake, or they thought the Goddess of Discord might be a party pooper, it turned out to be a problem. When Eris found out, she crashed the party with vengeance on her mind. She threw a golden apple into the midst of the crowd, inscribed with the word kallisti, or "to the fairest."

All of the great goddesses of Olympus, Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, began to argue, for each felt that, naturally, she ought to be considered the fairest. Ow. Don't piss off a Goddess.... soon after that, it got pretty ugly. They dragged poor ignorant Paris into the mix, and made him choose. Each goddess bribed him, but it was Aphrodite's offer of the hand of the beautiful Helen of Troy that really got to him. Of course, Helen's family wasn't at the wedding, and wasn't too happy to have their daughter given away to their rivals as a prize, and soon a whole bloody war broke out.

So, let's compare this a bit. Before the apple, everyone is getting along fine. Then, all of a sudden, the apple (chaos) gets thrown into the mix. After, there is confusion and arguments over value. In the end, things are never the same again. It doesn't matter if the apple is eaten or not; the temptation was there-and as soon as we had the tools to argue (i.e., words,) we were trying to define complex things with simple values. It fits the temptation of Eve in the garden and the subsequent loss of Eden, and it fits the apple of discord tossed so casually by Eris.

In fact, as I'll explain at a later date, it sort of describes the creation of the universe as well. (Think a peaceful singularity, lacking dimension and so folding in upon itself. Then, all of a sudden, something happens-that's the part that is a whole other subject-and it gains these dimensions of values {forces, matter, etc} information, experience, time, and most importantly-chaos. After that, BANG you have this vast, complex universe, leading to stuff like planets and plants and people.)

Now that I've compared apples to apples, I'd like to examine other symbols in the Eden mythos. If, as in my strange dream, the fruit of knowledge was uncertainty, then who or what was the snake that tempted Eve? Looking back, I'd call it language. As soon as we gave words to objects, we attempted to assign them also with value. We began to ignore the complexity of values which made the existence of an object possible. Is it possible, then, with language, to return to an Eden in which we never fight over values? Probably not. Perhaps, at least, as we come to appreciate complexity and uncertainty in nature, we can glimpse the beauty of Eden.

To wrap up this series, here's a page from my notebook, a few doodles I scratched out while trying to straighten out this whole "Schrodinger's Apple" mess. Sometimes a little visual can explain it better than any verbose post:

Image notes: Picture of Eris (As seen in Cartoon Network's Billy and Mandy) courtesy of Cartoon Junkies on www.templelooters.com; golden apple from "Maui Boy's Page for the Goddess." All other images created by the author. Originally posted as a series on ChaoticUtopia.com.