Your Moral Earth's Magnetic Field

I've heard people talk about how important their moral compass is to them.  What this means can be something different to any different person, but one definition that I think matches most people's conception is, "a natural feeling that makes people know what is right and wrong and how they should behave."  Are the natural feelings we have really what should make us know what's right and wrong?

Doing what's natural may not be a terrible basis for morality, but it's not a good one either.  We have a number of pack animal and cooperative instincts that guide us toward some caring and concern for our fellow man (and remember man is gender neutral in this context).  These also create an aversion toward malice in many contexts, which is also good.  Our instincts don't stop with these, 'love your neighbor' drives though.

Being a pack animal leads to a set of instincts, and while some of those are positive like what's stated above others are decidedly negative.  It leads to a tribalism, probably due to competition with other packs.  We protect our own, but those who aren't are own are usually fair targets for whatever we can dish out.  This is why looking at history we only seem to have been fighting against racism, sexism, or similar discrimination for about a century or two, and to some even that's being quite generous.  There's also significant drives to personal status and individual gain.  We want the pack to be strong, but we also want to be the head of the pack (or at least be very secure about our position in it) and there's a good chance we're willing to trade the good of our group for a high position in it, too.  This is why children throw tantrums, politicians and important businessman are as willing to admit mistakes as they are to part with teeth, and people gossip about the shortcomings of acquaintances.

This leads me back to the idea of a moral compass.  Truthfully, I think it's a good analogy as long as we remember one thing: a compass doesn't operate in a vacuum.  A compass is a magnetized needle set on a spindle (or sometimes in other ways, such as suspended in a liquid).  It points to the north because it aligns itself with the Earth's magnetic field.  In morality, this leads to the question that might be much more important than how is your moral compass, but what is your moral Earth's magnetic field.

What things external to ourselves help us understand what is moral and what is not?  Is it divine scripture?  Public opinion and associated feelings of dignity or shame?  Articulate and interesting discussions on ethics?  All of these have flaws which must be examined and guarded against and all have certain merits as well.  Compasses can be disrupted by anything that produces strong magnetic fields, like high electrical current.  Precise navigation may also require an adjustment between magnetic north and 'true north' since the Earth's magnetic poles aren't perfectly aligned with her north and south poles.  Just like a compass will not point true in a lightning storm or around power lines we should learn where our moral compass may fail to point us true and why if we want to stay true to our moral north wherever we go.

Our Data is Who We Are

 The physical is becoming less and less important in the modern world.  Sure, there will always be a need for physical mediums (after all "There is no such thing as immaterial matter. All spirit is matter"), but information is what reigns supreme in importance.  This has always been true, in many ways.  As Carl Sagan said, "The beauty of a living thing is not the atoms that go into it, it's the way those atoms are put together."  In another way, humanity has been marching toward this for ages; Since the invention of writing a stone could be transformed into the law of the land or God, a history of a people, or an agreement between two parties.  The invention and standardization of money intensified this.

The idiom that you can find out a lot about a person by going through their trash may still be true, but it's been found that with a handful of data readily made available people can know exactly who we are (in this study 4 locational data points were enough to identify 95% of participants).  While it's (probably) true that you wouldn't be you without your physical body, too often we forget that we wouldn't be who we are without our memories, habits, and interpersonal connections-all of which computers are increasingly involved in and therefore archiving.

As a Verizon wireless customer I was devastated to see this report from the Electronic Frontier Foundation surveying different companies and what measures they were taking to protect users' privacy.  I've known for a while that Verizon was kind of a scumbag company, managing to continue living only because they've acquired a great deal of infrastructure.  When (also scumbag, when it comes to users' data) companies like Comcast and Facebook (I'm not including Google even though many might have worries about the amount of data they collect because they did manage to collect 5 out of 6 stars in this survey, and I genuinely appreciate the company) as well as the two lower end Apple and AT&T still manage to find some way in which they can protect users' data rights are still beating out my carrier, I worry.

I'm seriously considering leaving Verizon, and would probably side with Sprint.  The financial, coverage, and overall convenience implications makes me hesitate, but I really feel like making sure a company that isn't making any effort to protect my digital self shouldn't be supported by my money.  I'd love to leave Comcast for the same reason, and may look into campaigning within my complex to get a different service provider.  The power a service provider has in my life is unnerving, considering how important my data is to me.  After all, in a very real way the data about me is who I am.

Sharing an Idea

Since I just got married I've been posting about marriage, relationships, and the like lately and I've seen an interesting thing happen, people responded.  I got comments, page views, and people telling me how much they liked my last post.  It's always nice to hear feedback from others and find out people are actually paying attention.  Still, part of me is actually a little disheartened by this surge of interest, because it carries an implication that people didn't read, or just plain didn't care about what I was writing before.

I wouldn't have predicted my newer writings would have eclipsed some of my others, because I find them more personal in scope.  Curiosities of my personality, musings on relationships (of which there's already enough literature to fill several libraries of Alexandria, and what I bring surely cannot be that novel), and altogether introspection on how I feel during such a pivotal moment of my life.  Maybe I should be honored and awed that others care about enough that they love my introspection.  Maybe they feel they're getting to know me better through my writings, and that's what engages them so deeply, and again I should be cheerful to know people like getting to know me.

But perhaps that's also just it.  Yes that personal side who loves his beautiful new wife and was eager to marry her is there.  Yes, I have thoughts and feelings about romance and love like most everyone else.  Yes, I am relate-able in those ways and those are all important to me.  There are other things that are deeply meaningful to me, though.  These are things that run from boring to meaningless to spurned to intimidating (and therefore avoided as much as possible) to much of the population in which I live.

Often what I write blog posts if not necessarily to change vernacular perspective at least to offer a different one.  I find topics of science, mathematics, and technology - and especially the public's interaction with these - of immense importance.  These are the ventures of human endeavor that will shape the future to which hurtling toward us faster and faster every day (ponder a moment on the technologies changing the way we communicate and relate to one another that have come to fruition in the last ten to twenty years) and the lijera (Spanish for lightness, but possibly carrying an extra connotation or two that made me want to use it in place of an English word here) with which people take these today is distressing to me.

I was once asked by an aunt something like, "What's it like to be as smart as you are?"  My answer was a jocular but wistful, "Lonely," and then by way of explanation, "When I talk about something that I find fascinating and then see the eyes of whomever I'm speaking with glaze over what do I do?  Pretend something important to me isn't or speak without regard to a fellow human being."

What Makes a Great Debate?

The first presidential debate happened last night.  I've recently uncomfortably found myself to be a political junkie and have been catching up on it, reading the news about it, and in general enjoying the excitement.  There is one thing I'm noticing during all the hubbub; the current debate format isn't good.

I read one analysis that said the debate seemed undisciplined, and seemed to bemoan with Mr. Lehrer the loss of the final section for discussion.  This doesn't really bother me.  Perhaps it's because the nebulous sounding topic "governance" seems a little less interesting than the rest of the debate topics, but I feel it's because the discussion seemed fruitful and intelligent.  Cutting off the speakers to cram in some extra talking points would have diminished what the audience was able to glean.  The article I read also said the debate was too specific, with things like Simpson-Bowles plans and Dodd-Frank bills, but I disagree.  This disagreement actually has a very fundamental basis.

Politics often seems watered down to triviality these days.  Our "sound-byte society," short attention spans, and internet meme making abstracts out deeper understanding of complex issues, and issues like the role of government, economics, and law are deeply complex.  I'm glad the candidates got plenty of time to go back and forth in explaining their ideas, getting into details and nuances that usually get lost in "let's move on to the next topic."

The Lincoln-Douglas debates were three hours a piece, each candidate getting a total of 90 minutes (split into 60 and 30 minute periods for whoever went first).  Now, candidates typically have 2 minutes going back and forth until the moderator wants to move on to the next topic.  You can say a lot in two minutes, but I don't think you should have to.  There are many things which require some time to explain the nuance (and I've now used the word twice within as many paragraphs, but I just find it so appropriate that I'm OK with this generally inadvisable writing practice).

Perhaps I'm informed by a scientific background, how many scientific theories would have ever gotten off the ground if some theoretical Einstein Bohr debates had only allowed the scientists to speak for a few minutes at a time? None of the important mathematical formulations could have been presented, the evidence and experimental methods of testing would be reduced to barely challengeable data tossed into the fray, and ultimately the question of how our world works would be answered not by who had the most complete and consistent ideas but who was more pithy and charismatic.  I worry that's what's happening in how a great and powerful nation is being led.

Blog is still an ugly word

I've been reading over my old posts lately and was particularly struck by my first post where I explain my thoughts on blogging and what I was writing. I guess as I've been blogging (on and off) for over two years now it's probably appropriate that I update my statements on the matter. There's one key thing I've learned which has changed by entire outlook on blogging: the idea that blogs aren't necessarily for others to read.

When I started I frankly didn't know why I was writing a blog. It was just that I had created an account on google's blogger sevice and I decided I might as well try out the whole blogging thing. Over time I've had to figure out why I'm doing this and the best answer doesn't involve anyone else at all. I keep my blog to keep my writing sharp. While reading through these old posts I'm sadly not entirely convinced it's worked. Well, actually I think the writing is quite acceptable, but riddled with typos. On the other hand I may have just learned, from blogging, that proofreading and editing are integral parts of any writing you wish to be presentable.

Blogs are also a great way to organize information, thoughts, and feelings. I keep a separate blog where I record spiritual thoughts and promptings. I don't work with it as much as I might like to, but I've found the tags for a post are ideal for when you want to jot down an idea without a clear picture of how it is to be used. If I want to give a talk, write a paper, or just ponder on a particular subject I can look up and review my previous thoughts on it.

Blogs can work as a personal scratchpad or journal, but they also provide an nice way to share ideas with friends. My original thoughts were that publishing to the internet meant publishing for the world. While a blog is available to the world, it may be meant to be read by only a few friends or family members. That's the direction this blog has taken, and I like that. It's a way to share thoughts with friends, and maybe get their thoughts on some of the same things I've been thinking about. What do you think?