It's more philosophy today, people. I want to thank Travis. Not only did he tip me off to the Unicorgy link that you all enjoyed earlier, his book club discussions have given me something to think about for the past couple of weeks. And, because I am egotistical enough to think that other people care what I think, I am going to record a couple of thoughts.


On Definitions:

Here's a question: At some point in the future will a water molecule no longer consist of two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom?

No, but that's because the definition of a water molecule is two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom. Even if water in all forms ceases to exist--that is, there are no longer any combinations of two hydrogens and one oxygen, water will still be defined as two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen. This is speaking more about language than about the nature of reality. A more metaphysically-oreintated question would be: Will an other atomic formula ever evolve which will have exactly all the properties of water, but which will not be two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atoms? and if so, would it be proper to call that compound "water?" I would argue that compound would not be properly labeled water, but I believe that is a linguistic distinction.


Perceptions and the story of the Unseen Ships:

There is this story that when Columbus came to the New World, supposedly the native peoples were unable to see his ships because they had never seen a tall ship before. The ships sat in the water and the native people simply did not perceive them. The people lacked a concept of the kind of ship that Columbus had, so they could not make any sense of the visual stimilus.

However, the second part of that story often goes untold: the native people were unable to see the ship until the religious leader noticed that there was something making waves in the water. The waves led him to see the ships, and once he pointed them out, then the other people could see them as well.

I admit that it seems unlikely that people would be faced with a large ocean-going vessel and not be able to see it. It seems that light would still strike the people's eyes, and cause them to see something, even if they didn't know what it was. But this is not an issue of light and eyes, this is an issue of brains and conceptual frameworks. And, I suppose, that the fundimental issue is whether or not the native people had a concept for "something very large and unidentified on the water."

So let me give you an example that more clearly relates to brains and conceptual frameworks. Suppose that I am a man who is sexually attracted to other men, but the year is 1800 and I live in rural China. The odds are that I am not going to identify as an oppressed minority, nor am I likely to spend my life with a same-sex life partner. The cultural framework for that reality does not exist, and because it does not exist, I am unlike to conceive it. If I were to conceive it, there would likely be some kind of collective backlash. So not only does the framework not exist, but I am behaviorally motivated not to invent such a framework.

It may seem like a leap between these two examples, but fundimentally they address the same truth: we are unlikely to perceive anything that is outside of the framework onto which we map reality.

I want to stress that it's entirely possible that the story of the unseen ships is spurious. But there is possiblity, however small, that it is true. Make up your mind for yourself.

I am reminded of a friend of mine who once heard the story of the unseen ships and responded: "That's impossible. We know that brains just do not work that way. With everything that I know about science, I simply can't accept that the story is true." Of course, it would have been rude of me to point out that his inability to accept the possibility of the story is evidence that people are sometimes so caught up with what they know is true and possible that anything outside of their framework is literaly inconceivable.

Perhaps the value of the story of the unseen ships is not its veracity; rather, that it proposes in itself a reality that is so outside of what we can accept that it is an example all on its own of something that we simply cannot conceive.