The
Physics of the Antichrist,
a Theory of Everything, I of VI:
The Reality and Necessity of Soul
The Pattern Proposition
Suppose a scientist were to
tell you that he’d invented a teleportation machine. What the machine
does is to record every conceivable bit of data about the state of every
molecule in your body, including in your brain. It sends this information
at the speed of light to the destination machine, which rebuilds you with
new matter using the recorded “pattern.”
You may very well find that
trepidation arises when he explains that you’ll have to be knocked
unconscious and that the machine records the necessary information by
disassembling your current body molecule by molecule. Willing to believe
that the procedure is painless, you ask, “But is it me who
will wake up at the other end?”
“Of course it’s
you,” he replies. “The rebuilt you will be so precise that
no experiment could possibly find a difference. Indeed, when you wake
up, all of your memories will be intact, right up to the moment that you
went under. Therefore, even you will not be able to tell the difference.”
It may be that all of his
talk of a “rebuilt you” disconcerts the you with whom he’s
speaking. As it happens, he’s got a packet summarizing philosophical
arguments and scientific experiments, from ancient theology to quantum
physics, all of it showing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it makes no
logical sense for you to see the rebuilt you as anything or anyone other
than you. Indeed, it is little more than a nearly instantaneous execution
of a process that is ongoing as you sit there and your body replaces “your”
molecules with new ones derived from food and air.
Now, if you’re sufficiently
convinced that this new method of travel presents no threat to your identity,
the scientist may offer you the deluxe package. Having purchased one ticket,
you have the option of paying half price for another to simultaneously
send the pattern and rebuild yourself somewhere else in the universe.
Thus, there will be two of you — each of whom it makes no logical
sense to define as someone other than you — out there accomplishing
your work at twice the speed. Upon their return, the experience of the
two yous will be synchronized into one person — you.
Turning Your Life
Over to Yourself
This teleportation thought
experiment merely applies, in a more immediate way, the principles that
underlie the “resurrection” that Frank Tipler describes in
his book, The Physics of Immortality, which explores the scientific
possibility of the Omega Point, a God of physics manifested at the end
of the universe. Discarding the possibility of soul and devaluing continuous
experience, Tipler concludes that it is only logical to self-identify
with the “pattern” of one’s self and, therefore, to
consider a far-future computer emulation (a perfect simulation) to constitute
resurrection.
I’m confident that most
people will emotionally reject this notion of self. In the teleportation
example, there is something unique to the first you hopping into
that machine. There is something that is discontinuous in the
rebuilt you. And most importantly, there is a distinct you who ceases
to play your role in the physical world at the moment of teleportation.
To clarify this point, remove
the necessity of disassembly from the teleportation process. If there
were a second you created, both copies might believe themselves to be
the original you, and perhaps nobody could settle the dispute. However,
there would be two people who would, from that moment on, experience life
as different people.
This possibility becomes more
visceral if we change the thought experiment so that the scientist’s
machine has a different purpose. Suppose you have some physical flaw that
isn’t fatal and that can’t be fixed through medical technology.
In this case, the machine could create an exact copy of you — a
perfect clone — except without the flaw. If the machine doesn’t
destroy the old you in the process, perhaps you would be able to shake
hands with the new you before sending him or her to sleep with your spouse
and raise your children… leaving you to be euthanized.
The Most Observable
Phenomenon
Without indulging in religious
terminology, what scientists leave out — as an assumption —
is first-person experience. Theoretically, a third-person experiment could
not tell the difference between the two yous, so the conclusion drawn
is that there must, therefore, be no difference.
On the contrary, I don’t
believe it an exaggeration to declare that the authenticity of continuous
experience is the single most observable phenomenon. The difficulty arises
because the procedures of science cannot detect what only the living individual
can “prove” through observation of himself, so it is taken
as an illusion. But this just indicates a limit of science. Why should
the impossibility of measurement of something in others prevail over self-evident
personal observation? It is nothing other than religious dogma to insist
that anything that exists can be captured by science, experimentally or
mathematically.
Tipler’s theory requires
that the computers of the future be considered “life,” so
he devotes quite a bit of space to proving them to be persons. To this
end, he describes the Turing Test, created by computer scientist Alan
Turing, which suggests, in Tipler’s words, that “if you can
talk to the machine — really talk to it, carry on a conversation
with it just as you would with another normal human being — then
the machine is intelligent. If after interacting for years with
the machine it acts as if it has a personality, has consciousness (and
a conscience), then it really does.” (20)
We must remember that the
Turing Test is entirely hypothetical and assumes that such a machine could
ever be created. It also tacitly assumes that we could not tell the difference
between a human person and a machine person. When I refer to “impossibility
of measurement,” I do not mean it as equivalent to impossibility
of observation. We can, in a sense, observe soul in others when they deliberately
act or create in a way to which we respond at that emotional, experiential
level.
Tipler suggests that a computer
could be developed that replicates creativity if a portion were devoted
to presenting random associations for analysis to discern significance
or utility. Such a strategy might manage to simulate a sort of intellectual
creativity, whereby random combinations of concepts are applied to a specific
problem. But what about emotional creativity? Here, the issue
of first-person versus third-person observation arises again, because
the only way the “problem” of making an emotional connection
can be solved in this mechanical manner is through observation of exactly
that which is not measurable in a person other than one’s self.
Not only does the emotional
capacity of manmade machines have yet to be demonstrated, but the “blind”
creativity that it requires relates to physicist Roger Penrose’s
similarly intended objection that “it is hard to see how actual
improvements could ever arise in this random way” (29).
Tipler responds that, if Penrose’s suggestion were valid, it “would
disprove the modern theory of biological evolution.” Ultimately,
these lines of argument wrestle down to the choice of faith in randomness
or in purpose. Here again, but on a much grander scale, we run into science
overstepping its boundaries because its practitioners refuse to accept
its limits: The sciences may discern the mechanisms and manifestations
of divine will, but it would be false to assume that doing so disproves
the will.
Indeed, by the end of his
book, Tipler refutes himself on this count when he addresses miracles:
The lesson of science is
clear: leave out all miracles. On the other hand, if it could be shown
that the resurrection of Jesus was in some way essential for the existence
of the Omega Point, then Jesus’ resurrection would no longer be
a miracle; it would follow from the Omega Point Boundary Condition.
(309)
I would have to get ahead
of myself to explain the Omega Point Boundary Condition, but it is enough
to note that, in formulating his theory, Tipler has worked purpose into
reality, thus becoming willing to entertain the notion of the greatest
miracle of human history if it were shown to have happened out of necessity.
The difference between this and religious faith is merely one of direction.
The believer begins with soul and God’s will, understanding that
human behavior and the physical world necessarily conform to them. The
scientist begins with physical reality and will only accept those forces
that can be shown to necessarily exist in order for it to function.
The Ethical Necessity
of Soul
It follows that science must
acknowledge the reality of soul if it can be shown to be a necessary component
of physical reality, somehow affecting this world by way of an as yet
undefined force, perhaps acting in another un-measurable realm. One way
in which this requirement can be met is if two conditions can be shown
to be true: that soul is a prerequisite for absolute ethics, and that
absolute ethics are a necessity.
I define soul as precisely
the irreducible quality that people mean when they say “me.”
The thing lost in the teleportation hypothetical and the thing forsaken
in the “fixed” clone hypothetical is soul. Furthermore, I
assert that this can be the only basis for attributing non-relative, unconditional
moral value to individual life. Tipler offers a test scenario for these
assertions by presenting science as close to religion as it can get.
The Omega Point will “resurrect”
us using our observable history, as recorded in light and other data from
the universe, as well as knowledge of our DNA. In order for the Omega
Point itself to come into existence, life will have to continue to progress
in knowledge and technology at a sufficient rate to meet a universal deadline.
Specifically, life will have to expand throughout the universe and take
maximal control of it in time to influence its collapse. Both the objective
and the requirement of expediency make it inevitable that the process
will contradict certain religious/ethical beliefs, whether it involves
the utilization of fetal technology or the dismantling of the planet Earth.
Tipler notes his disgust for
Nazis several times, so I’ll take his cue for my hypothetical. Suppose
Jews stood in the way — or were thought to stand in the way —
of the progress that would result in the Omega Point. It is logical that
they must be converted, subdued, or, if their resistance is too problematic,
killed. This is akin to the position of radical Muslims today: those of
other faiths can “get along” while supporting the Islamic
rule; they can convert; or they can die.
Without ethical absolutes,
what could offer more moral validation than the creation of God and the
facilitation of the universal resurrection? Tipler’s Omega Point
explicitly offers a form of moral absolution for sin done in its name.
In one scenario, every possible person who ever could have existed
based on the limited possibilities of DNA and environment will be “resurrected.”
Since one of them will obviously represent the exact same pattern as any
given murdered infidel, if we accept the pattern definition of identity,
we must conclude that the person has only been killed temporarily —
and, indeed, with the intention of ensuring that the victim will live
again for all eternity.
At conflict, here, is the
Omega Point and the individual person, defined as a specific implementation
of a person’s pattern, as the basis for ethical absolutes. If the
former is chosen, the way is open for genocide, whether the Omega Point’s
early proponents wish it to be so or not.
Lost Pages in the
Book of Me
Of course, if we have free
will, then rejecting the idea of absolute ethics is also an option. In
some ways, this rejection can be seen as the definition of evil, and I
will argue later that our having the option of evil is required by the
laws of physics as Tipler explains them. For now, however, I will merely
note that the necessity of soul for ethics is not restricted to the victims
of “morally validated” crimes. It is also the source of individual
incentive for good.
Tipler looks to the American
Deists for philosophical sympathy, specifically addressing the work of
Thomas Paine, Benjamin Franklin, Ethan Allen, Thomas Jefferson, and George
Washington. However, Tipler glosses over the implication of the fact that
they believe in judgment. Without ultimate judgment, there can be no ethical
component to belief in God, and without continuity of experience —
soul — one need not worry about experiencing the punishment for
sinful actions.
Given that the Deists existed
in a much more religious world, it isn’t surprising that they retained
a truth that eludes rationalists of our times. The limitation of the modern
scientific point of view is most starkly revealed when Tipler singles
out Franklin, “a fellow physicist,” as his favorite, printing
in full that Founding Father’s self-authored epitaph:
The body of B. Franklin,
Printer, Like the Cover of an old Book, Its Contents torn out, And stript
of its Lettering and Gilding, Lies here, Food for Worms. But the work
shall not be lost; for it will, as he believ’d, appear once more
in a new and more elegant Edition Corrected and improved By the Author.
(324)
From this paragraph, Tipler
interprets that Franklin did not consider his identity to be “a
particular copy of a certain pattern — a certain computer program
in twentieth-century language — which existed in the eighteenth
century, but rather the pattern itself.” The “elegant Edition,”
according to this reading, requires no personal continuity with Benjamin
Franklin as the world knew him.
Tipler misreads. The body
in Franklin’s metaphor is the cover only; the pages have been removed.
Thus, we have not just one pattern, but two components: the printed pages
and the intangible story told thereon.
The soul is that story, and
the pages will be corrected only to better tell it.
Go to part II: Of Two Minds, a Paradox
of Reality
Tipler, Frank J. The Physics
of Immortality (Anchor Books, 1994)
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