Jorge Luis Borges’ narrator is a Chinaman with a lack of self-esteem. Dr. Yu Tsun is from a once-great Chinese family that has fallen into obscurity and shame because of the mad ramblings of his ancestor Ts’ui Pên. The narrator’s main source of motivation is to prove that his actions matter — that he can do great things. He is a spy for the German Reich during World War I, and his dream is to overcome his own obscurity in the eyes of his German masters. His obsession takes the literal form of an English captain: the appropriately named Richard Madden. Madden pursues Yu Tsun like a madness, perhaps forcing the narrator’s decisions throughout the story. The story ends with an ultimate irony: Yu Tsun must kill the man who has decoded his ancestor’s novel. He makes the choice to fulfill his mission and allegiance to the Germans rather than to restore his family’s name and honor the man who did it. Here, the political vision of a government at war supersedes an individual’s own artistic sensibilities and his family honor. Dr. Yu Tsun remains pathetically insignificant, a pawn of others’ dreams.

One of the aspects of Arthur C. Clarke’s thinking is that he always includes a world beyond the real. That is, while he is a man of science and reason, he does not limit his vision to only what can be seen and measured. There is always a sense of something beyond the surface in Clarke’s work, and often it’s technology and scientific progress that reveals it. Science itself is not the answer for Clarke, but it can — often inadvertently — lead us to the beyond. This is true for both “Names” and “The Star.” Both juxtapose religious belief with science and technology. Both stories have Twilight-Zone endings — neither of which I’ll ruin here — but Clarke links scientific reality with religious truth in interesting and surprising ways. In “Names,” the computer becomes key in decoding religious belief. Rather than being the enemy of religion, here science provides the mechanism for making religious belief real: the computer joins these two seemingly disparate ideas. In “The Star,” a Jesuit scientist’s faith is shaken by a literal journey to another star. Can a religion created on Earth survive the vastness of space? Can our minds remain small while our bodies travel into infinity?

I’ve written about William Gibson’s vision in “The Gernsback Continuum” before. This story deals with the collective dreams of the past manifesting a new reality in the present through the perceptions of the narrator. Gibson’s story posits many questions. When do dreams become tyrannical, draconian, and nightmarish? How much reinforcement does an idea take before it begins changing reality? Or, do our dreams spare us from the multiplicity of too much reality and choice? How much room is there for choice in this world? Borges seems to be interested in the same question. Whenever we make a choice, we create reality by closing off possibilities. However, quantum mechanics suggests that in another reality, we make the other choice, thereby splitting the possible from the real and ultimately creating a livable reality. What if we were able to break through to the possible, and it was able to travel through the rupture into our real?

Isn’t this what fiction’s about? We want our reality to be safe and predictable, so we tend to make the choices that we hope will lead to that outcome. Fiction provides us with the playground for examining the possible, the absurd, the terrifying. In contrast, fiction allows us to wander through the labyrinth, choose various paths, and come safely back. Right?

Well, one might also argue that a journey through fiction’s garden leaves our reality altered. Ideas can be dangerous, literally changing our views of the world around us. Are there ideas so powerful that they can irrevocably disrupt our world? We see this all the time, no? What happens when truth becomes Truth? How far are will we go to convince people of the Dream, meanwhile smashing their dreams?

Too many choices can be as frightening as too few. In a universe of possibilities, perhaps it’s a necessity that we limit ourselves to “a single wavelength of probability,” as Gibson’s narrator suggests. Maybe our brains can’t handle reality that’s too diverse, too rich? Maybe it’s a limit of our brains to think in binaries, blacks and whites, rights and wrongs? Or maybe bowing to simple perceptions of the universe will only enslave us to others’ Truth and keep us from progressing? Is there a middle ground?

Yesterday, in my New Media seminar, we began talking — perhaps a bit off-topic — about how the media has made debates out of issues that are not actively debated by those coming from the same premises. Indeed, if you are to ever have a meaningful discussion that actually goes somewhere, you must start at an agreed-upon location. For example, the scientific community does not debate evolution and global climate change — currently two big controversial topics in the media. Science sees truth from without — something to be observed, measured, calculated, quantified, and reported. If the observations reported by one scientist can be replicated by the community, it becomes a theory. A scientific theory is another word for “local truth.” What a theory states is that all evidence here and now point to this conclusion.

Other truths come from within, like religious truths. As an anti-theist, I do not believe in the reality of these truths, but I do see their power and presence is others’ lives. In fact, it seems like religious truths do more damage to us as human beings than they help. This is not to say that I dislike religious people: I know and admire many people who consider themselves devout. But, to my point. Religious truths, or “faith,” or “belief,” comes from within. These beliefs are usually called Truths by the faithful — they are rules and dicta given by God, never to be questioned, only followed. You know, like commandments.

So when religious Truth and scientific truth seem to be discussing the same thing, they really aren’t because they don’t starting from the same premise. The scientific community does not doubt the billions of pieces of evidence that supports evolution and are therefore not arguing about it. But a religious conviction — stemming from their investment in a particular world view — makes them cloak their creation narrative into a pseudo-scientific sounding approach — Creationism or Intelligent Design — in order to dupe the general public into believing that creation myths hold the same scientific weight as evolution.

And the twenty-four-hour news media falls right into their hands. You gotta fill 24 hours with something.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m a student of literature, so I’m a proponent of narrative, and mythology fascinates me. Stories contain the essence of who we are and who aspire to be, but I don’t think there’s anything intrinsically universal about a narrative. Stories, like science, are situated in a particular place and time — and they always speak to us from there and then. We might, like the Poet asks the Muse, to sing it to us for our time, but we must keep in mind the local hopes and dreams from which narratives flow. Narrative is about translating reality into our language — about explaining the universe around us and how we fit into it.

Both science and religion, therefore, have the same goal. They just begin from a different place. Both narratives are valid, but they shouldn’t pretend to be what they’re not.

Another example of confused narratives is global warming. The theory of global warming is simple: we humans, by rapidly burning fossil fuels, release an excess of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere which acts as a greenhouse, trapping excess heat and raising the earth’s global mean temperature. The goal: find out why the world is getting hotter. Science explains it’s because our technologically driven society unearths and burns all the carbon that the earth has buried in the ground over millions of years. The rapid release of carbon dioxide is warming the planet: more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere means higher mean global temperatures.

The other narrative claims that global warming is not caused by the rapid burning of fossil fuels — that global temperature change is a naturally occuring phenomenon. Again, this is an invented narrative — one that is not part of the scientific discourse on global warming — but one that has entered the public media space as a viable and logical counterpoint to the facts. One based on faith, if you will. The consequences range from sad to sadder.

Several years ago, I had a discussion with Mr. Al (that’s what my wife calls him), a local friend of my wife’s family. Mr. Al suggested that he and I meet to discuss ways that I might win over Autumn’s father. While the bulk of this story is one for another blog, Mr. Al told me about the time that Jesus appeared to him in his truck. If I remember correctly, Mr. Al was having profound doubts about his Christian faith, and he was driving down a country road in the middle of a moral crisis. It was a stormy day, but suddenly the clouds broke, and a ray of sunshine seemed to shower his truck with heavenly light. Mr. Al noticed that Jesus sat next to him in the passenger’s seat. Mr. Al stoped the truck, and Jesus told him not to veer from the path. “Since that day,” Mr. Al waved some cancelled checks in his hand, “I have given as much as I can to the church.” The checks did have pretty sizable sums printed on them. Mr. Al has done well for himself. And Jesus.

The point of the lesson was clear: his investment in this narrative is extensive. One does not just walk away from such a huge outpouring of venture capital.

Our investment in our way of life is important. Our economy thrives on the burning of fossil fuels, and those who have controlled the means are not willing to consider alternatives. So let’s muddle the debate, mix our metaphors, just say no.

But, Jerry, you started this entry talking about how cold it is and you end with global warming? In fact, this is the coldest winter I remember. Well?

Hm, that is weird. Brrr.

On the way into work this morning, NPR had a small snippet about what the world will probably be like in 2025. When they say “the world,” they mean human affairs, of course. Well, the US has fallen from its mighty perch, being replaced primarily by southeast Asian countries. I assume they mean economically — as we can see that happening now. Despite the current grim outlook for multi-national conglomerates and corporations, they are expected to play a larger role in global issues, alongside organized crime. And terrorism isn’t going anywhere. Surprise there.

Oh, yeah, and we’ll be making our way toward more environmentally friendlier technologies and away from fossil fuels. They call this an “encouraging” aspect of the report. Well, according to Mark Lynas‘ book Six Degrees: Our Future on a Hotter Planet, that will be ten years too late to avert a potentially catastrophic shift in climate change. And we seem to be still oblivious. From his conclusion:

The conclusion of this book is that we have only seven years [that's 2015] left to peak global emissions before facing escalating dangers of runaway global warming. I am the first to admit that this target looks hopelessly unattainable. (281)

Based on our current political concerns, I would have to agree with his less-than-optimistic prognosis. For example, the current economic crisis in the US has many once-mighty companies struggling, including the Big Three car manufacturers. Well, I can’t claim to understand the reasoning behind any of this economic bailout business other than it seems to be one guy in the Bush’s administration with a lot of money that big corporations “need” to prosper. It just doesn’t make any sense to me. Also what doesn’t make any sense is the idea that more money given to these ailing car manufacturers (that can’t seem to make anything close to competing with Japanese and German companies) is a good idea without oversight. I think Michael Moore has it right.

Why can’t part of the bailout stipulate that these guys have to revolutionize their industry — maybe even by resurrecting something that you teased us with back in the 1990s. I know, I can already hear the arguments. Save ‘em. As Lynas suggests, we need drastic measures here, both if we want to save our economy and our planet. Business-as-usual will be the likely death of us. All of us, even those at the top.

I’m reminded of a point Al Gore made in An Inconvenient Truth. Many who argue against the reality of global warming will contest it for economic reasons: it just much more comfortable, convenient, and cost effective to practice business-as-usual. Gore shows the absurdity of this balancing act: gold bars on one side of the scale; the whole earth on the other. Yes, the gold bars will potentially help us now practically (though I have my doubts), and they are a powerful symbol for the mythical might of this country. Yet, without the planet that we live on — you know, the only one we have — economics, and all those other important issues that occupy our energy and attention — will all be irrelevant. The death of the planet trumps them all. Period.

We need to wake up and pay attention. We are in big trouble.

Yeah, this is true not only in science, but other policy concerns as well. I suspect we’ll hear some more details in the upcoming debate.

Obama outlines his views on technology and energy. And here’s McCain on “American energy.” See a difference? Both seem concerned with oil first, only then do they mention alternative energy. Hm.

See also Obama’s Cleantech site.

Men are weak now, and yet they transform the Earth’s surface. In millions of years their might will increase to the extent that they will change the surface of the Earth, its oceans, the atmosphere, and themselves. They will control the climate and the Solar System just as they control the Earth. They will travel beyond the limits of our planetary system; they will reach other Suns.
—Konstantin Tsiolkovsky c.1926

An article on AdAstra examines both the science and the fiction about humanity’s possible efforts to terraform other worlds. Issues like manifest destiny and ecology lie at the center of this debate that, as the article points out, is largely religious: “Disagreements rooted in faith, belief and longing. What you won’t hear, usually, is good science.” Asteroids make a potentially more suitable target of this Herculean effort, but the current debate centers around Mars. I might be cynical, but judging by how we’ve changed this planet, it seems likely that our technology will advance to a point that the science will catch up to the fiction and allow us to spread ourselves through the solar system and eventually through the galaxy. Why is Bush pushing for Mars? Is there oil there? The article speculates that we ourselves might have to change in order to live on other planets: physically and well as psychologically.

In other science (fiction) news: With the current season of Dr. Who coming to a close (did you hear that Christopher Eccleston will not be coming back — d’oh!), a new theory posits that time travel could actually be possible but only in a way that would compliment our current reality. That is, you could not, say, split up your some jerk’s grandparents to cause him to never have been born, or assassinate Hitler before his contribution to world history. This new quantum model only allows for observation, not interference. Sounds much safer that way.

In Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, the eponymous subject keeps his youthful looks while the vagaries of age are visited upon his portrait in the attic. Now a digital version of Wilde’s idea is being developed to show you what you will look like in five years’ time if you take no exercise, eat too much junk food and drink too much alcohol.

Read more at NewScientist. I read something similar about a computer that extrapolates whether or not, based on an hour’s observation, a couple’s marriage will last five years. I believe the computer could predict with a 95% chance of being correct. I’m not sure where I saw this story, but it’s getting closer to computers being less stupid.

Scientists have begun blurring the line between human and animal by producing chimeras — a hybrid creature that’s part human, part animal.

Chinese scientists at the Shanghai Second Medical University in 2003 successfully fused human cells with rabbit eggs. The embryos were reportedly the first human-animal chimeras successfully created. They were allowed to develop for several days in a laboratory dish before the scientists destroyed the embryos to harvest their stem cells.

As the article suggests, this is not an isolated occurrence: scientists all over the world are involved in experiments like these. The article goes on to posit these questions: “What new subhuman combination should be produced and for what purpose? At what point would it be considered human? And what rights, if any, should it have?” Indeed, but couldn’t the same be said for artificial intelligences, including robots? Presently there are not ethical guidelines or laws that cover such research, but you can bet that the Dubya Administration will have something evangelical to say just before they attempt to ban it.