Your duty to be happy!

A friend came to my office looking miserable. I asked him whether anything was wrong. No, nothing, he answered, but ‘he was not obliged to be happy’. What a terribly wrong answer that was.

You have an ethical obligation to be happy unless you have specific reasons not to be.

Life is a present of immense value, and that is true whether you are religious or not. You are the product of millions of years of evolution. You are an instrument of incredible complexity, allowing you to feel, to think, to see, to smell, to cry and to swear. To be happy or unhappy.

The instrument you are is also a result of amazing luck. That you became exactly you was improbable in the extreme. That exactly your spermatozoid met your egg and became you was more than unlikely. And this luck you have had ever since the start of life. If your mother had not become your mother you would not have become you. If her mother had not become her mother, she would not have become your mother and you would not have become you. And so on, all the way back to the beginning of time. Winning El Gordo is far likelier than you becoming exactly you. You may, ungratefully, argue, ah, but I would have liked to be handsomer, thinner, a genius. But the point is, of course, that then you would not have been you. You would have been someone else, not an improved version of yourself. So you better accept yourself. And you better accept your loved ones as they are, because  otherwise they would have been somebody else as well. You might have loved them also, but they would not have been the ones you love now. All of which does not go to say that you should not try to improve yourself, but you should be happy that you are you. And, of course, as Oscar Wilde said, everybody else is already taken.

Kierkegaard proposed that you can lead an aesthetic, ethical or religious life. But I am convinced that whatever of these lives you lead you are under an obligation to be happy. You have been given the most precious of gifts. Do you have proper cause not to appreciate it?


The Proletarisation of the Middle Class

There is a tug-of-war going on between the proletarisation of the middle class and the middle-classisation of the proletariat. Proletarisation, favoured by the 0.1 percent, is winning.

The dream of social democracy and unions was historically to lift the proletariat into middle class status – to eliminate the underclass reality. The results were for a long time spectacular. Germany, the unsung hero of social progress, is a society where the factory worker proudly enjoys solid middle class privileges; and where the factory worker’s daughters and sons possess social mobility like any other member of the middle class. Even the pariah of modern society, the immigrant, will at the latest in the second generation be a candidate member of the German middle class.

This proud model is under threat, less in Germany, it is true, than in many other countries where it is less deeply embedded. It is under threat not because there is an attempt to re-establish the distinction between proletariat and middle class. The threat is the attempt to hollow out living conditions of the middle class to such an extent that proletarisation is the effect. What we have seen over the last more than thirty years is that living conditions of the traditional middle class, middle management in industry and government, have eroded, as have those of the factory worker, its newest member. The much-discussed equality gap.

The proletarisation disease has been highly contagious. Under the banner of ‘small government’, a mainstay of the middle class, the civil service, has been decimated and its social position and privileges cut. Unrestrained market mechanisms have turned the social mobility tool of ‘good education for everyone’ on its head. The pool of contenders for middle management jobs has swelled and employers have promptly seized on this to put pressure on salaries and relative wealth. Automation and rationalisation have meant that manual labour has become less valuable and that the uplift of the proletariat was reversed. The curse of oversupply has applied equally to worker and middle manager, and has had the same result. Demonstrating the validity of part of classical Marxist economics, the 0.1 percent has continued to benefit only because new markets opened up in the emerging world. However, the 0.1 percent has forgotten the other truth of Marxist orthodoxy, namely that capitalists need a wealthy domestic population for strong, continued consumption of their products. The equality gap means that the global economy will encounter saturation effects at some point, even if it is true that the squeeze on salaries in developed countries makes products more affordable in developing countries and thus enhances inter-regional equality. However, the excessive wealth of the 0.1 percent penalises the populations of developing and developed economies equally.

There is, however, also a mortal danger in the proletarisation of the middle calls. Democracy is, in the final analysis, a middle class instrument. With the wilting of the middle class, democracy as we know it is at risk. The middle class votes its values. Those values used to be middle-of-the-road; used to be tolerant Enlightenment values; used to care about facts and decency, used to be unadventurous in international relations. These were values predicated upon comfortable living conditions and recognised social standing. When we allow the middle class status to erode, we allow democracy as a common sense institution to erode. When middle class values recede the field is open for extremism and demagoguery! Look around you for evidence!

The Working Class Is No More

The working class, as a class, has largely disappeared. May 1st has become a commemoration, not a day for true political manifestation.

The worker still exists, of course, but not as part of a culturally defined class. Exceptions are England, and, perhaps, France. But mostly the days of workers’ clubs, workers’ evening classes, and worker as a class identity are long gone. The inadvertent genius of populist movements from early on and until today is that they address the concerns of workers as individuals, not as a class. And as concerns are shared across class boundaries the net of populist movements becomes much bigger. Most social democratic parties still believe in class interests, and that class interests are best addressed in class terms. Of course, they are becoming a dying breed when few identify as part of the working ‘class’ rather than as a worker. Witness the slow and tragic death of unions in most countries.

So, on May Day let us shed a nostalgic tear for the bygone working class. And let us raise our glasses to moderate and progressive politicians who understand that workers’ interests must be addressed empathically on the specifics, not on a class basis. The working class as a cultural phenomenon is gone!



See also: The Bane of Rapacious Elites

                  The Bells of Trieste

Hawking and the seven

We mourn the passing of Stephen Hawking, the pre-eminent explorer of the biggest mysteries. A physicist with a philosopher’s mind.

But also a human being whose brilliance was wrought from terrifying adversity. The brightest of minds housed in a body that conspired to deny him his talent.

What we admire is how steely determination denied defeat, and how wonderful imagination soared perhaps even higher, because the only movement Hawking was allowed was that of the mind. Hawking touched points never touched by any human before.

Hawking was no saint, of course, and did not pretend to be. But also in this domain he mastered transformation, because he transformed his own humanity into true humanism.

You may ask what the sadness we feel by Stephen Hawking’s death has to do with seven. It has something to do with humanism and the preconditions for humanism.

Seven is the number of migrants drowning every day in the Mediterranean since the start of 2018. Those human beings we do not mourn like we mourn the death of Stephen Hawking. We do not mourn them despite all the adversity they faced and their terrible defeat. The reason is simple. The reason is that we do not have their life stories in front of us in the same fashion as we do for Hawking. It is very hard to empathise in abstract. Yet, also here Hawking has a lesson to teach us.

J.K. Rowling in her brilliant commencement address at Harvard in 2008 has explained to us that one of the most important features of imagination is the ability it confers upon us to be able to emphasise. Imagination allows us to put ourselves in the shoes of others. That is why the loss of Stephen Hawking is so painful – we can feel the loss of a unique individual. But Hawking himself could turn his imagination on to the most abstract concepts and live them. And he could get non-scientists to live the concepts as well, an ability he shared with Albert Einstein.

But Hawking was not only about the cosmos – he also turned his imagination to the human condition. Hence his humanism. We can create no finer epitaph for Stephen Hawking, his brilliance, imagination, suffering and humanity, than using our imagination not only to understand our world, but to empathise with the seven migrants that drown every day. To imagine their stories, their tragedies, and dream solutions that will stop the dying!

The Compatibility of Free Will with Determinism

Free will and determinism appear to be mutually exclusive.

Einstein’s space-time structure is supposed to be eternal, to have been always there, and to be there forever. Time is an illusion, the great man said. With everything always and simultaneously being there, choice cannot exist the argument runs. Without time the exercise of free will cannot exist. Hundred out of hundred would probably agree. When free will is defended invariably Einstein’s understanding of time is attacked.

There are, however, two ways to understand free will as not necessarily conflicting with determinism, and one of these does not require time and the other only in a much bastardised form.

The first is that free will can be understood as a quality, rather than a function. Free will needs time to serve as a function, that is true. Any concept of ‘future’ must contain a time element, and choices in our normal understanding are inherently orientated towards future effects. So, if by free will we mean that I make a choice today the consequences of which could not be predicted yesterday, then, indeed, Einstein has killed free will, because neither yesterday, today or tomorrow exist. But free will could also be understood as a quality inherent in the result. What is enshrined in the time structure may reflect a result based on free will. The free will element becomes an inalienable part of the result. In the time structure a mechanistic result would thus be of a different nature than a result reached after the exercise of free will. And to the extent sentiments are real, choices, all free, would, correctly, feel different than situations where we had no choice. Results have been there eternally, and results are, in that sense, predictable. However, these results could not have been predicted by an ‘outside observer’ with prefect command of all facts, or by God, because results contain the indeterminate element of being based on free will. That is the difference between pure Einsteinian determinism and determinism allowing for free will. Interestingly, such an allowance for free will within a deterministic universe resonates well with Einstein’s old enemy, quantum mechanics.

The other way of making determinism and free will compatible is based on the many worlds theory of Hugh Everett; a quantum mechanics product. According to the many worlds theory superposition is not followed by quantum collapse but by the birth of a new universe in which the discarded choice is played out. Thus whenever there is choice both options exist in parallel in superposition (Schroedinger’s cat) and according to Everett neither option collapses and each will continue having effect in its own parallel universe. As a result an immense number of universes exist according to the many worlds theory. When you make a choice a parallel you will arise in a parallel universe. A you that is absolutely identical with the you at the time of choice.

The upshot of the many worlds theory is that an unimaginable number of yous live all the possibilities you ever had. All possibilities will be realized in some or other parallel universe. The relevance of this for free will lies in the fact that a you has continuing consciousness throughout all the choices made by that you. All other yous will carry exactly the same experiences and the identical emotional baggage and will have continuing consciousness from the moment they arise. But their own continuing consciousness. All parallel yous will appear indistinguishable from each other, but will not be because each possesses its own unique continued consciousness. If a you dies, for instance, it is little consolation for that you that an almost infinite number of other yous will continue existing in parallel universes. The continued consciousness of the dead you will be no more. This distinction of a specific you from all the other yous is little appreciated by those discussing the many worlds theory, but gives a path forward for assuming free will for any you, since any choice that  a you discards will be lived by another you. All universes and all possibilities in a realized form might be forever existing, and thus represent perfect determinism. But a specific you will always have the choice of living one option or the other. The sum of realized options does not change depending on which route a given you takes in a specific situation of choice. Another you will pick up the choice that a given you decides not to live. Thus every you has a thread in her life determined by the choices made. That thread might sometimes be inherited baggage, although not appearing as such. But from the moment of the coming into existence of that specific you the thread of life will be based on the choices, the exercise of the free will of that specific you.

The two above examples are, of course, counterintuitive, yet demonstrate that scientific method and free will must not be opposed. And counterintuitive perspectives are often not counterfactual. After all, our current understanding of the universe was counterintuitive compared both to the geocentric and heliocentric theories.

The Silence of Lawyers

In the run-up to the second Gulf War international lawyers and the international community were agog over the Bush administration’s suggestion that preventive self-defence would be legal.  Reams of publications were produced.

Now, at a time when the United States is threatening North Korea with ‘fire and fury’, there is virtually no discussion of the legality of the use of force by the United States. International lawyers have gone mum, although, once again, the issue is preventive self-defence.  There are probably a number of reasons for this.

First, both lawyers and the general public might believe that military action is not very likely. If so, they are terribly wrong. When the US Secretary of State is saying that diplomacy continues ‘until the first bomb drops’ there is all reason to believe that military action is being seriously considered. Statements by H.R. McMaster, Lindsay Graham and Nikki Haley underscore how seriously we should treat the possibility of cataclysmic military conflict on the Korean Peninsula.

Another reason for the silence might be that a discussion of preventive self-defence is not very intellectually stimulating. All permutations were discussed at the time of the 2003 Iraq war. And mainstream international lawyers concluded that preventive self-defence is at odds with the provisions of the Charter of the United Nations. The Charter gives the Security Council a monopoly on the use of force, except in case of self-defence in a narrow sense. Allowing preventive self-defence would largely eliminate the role of the Security Council.

Finally, and this is frightening, there might not be much discussion because the Trump administration has no interest in international law, and therefore does not seek to frame any action in terms of legality. Such an attitude would normally create an outcry not only from international lawyers but from all of the international community.  After all, international law is about the preservation of the interests of international society.

Is it really possible that we have no discussions about the legality of the use of force against North Korea because the state that may use such force is not interested in such a discussion?  This we must not allow. If we do, the consequences are likely to be catastrophic!


Light, Enlightenment, and the Limits of Knowledge

We are in the dark season!

In the dark season we rejoice in the contrast between light and darkness. Light is comforting, cosy, the saving grace. From darkness we flee. Despite the mystery of darkness, despite us coming from darkness, darkness gets a bad rap! Throughout history humankind has been darknessphobic.

Witness the Bible:

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.

And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

And God said, Let there be light; and there was light.

And God saw the light, and it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness.


Compare that to the physicist’s Genesis:

In the beginning the Big Bang created the heaven and the earth.

And the Big Bang created light.

And the scientist saw the light, and that it was good.

And the scientist said, let us use light to explore the heaven and the earth.

And the scientist divided the light from the darkness.


However, from a human standpoint you can argue that darkness is a relative of light because we get a sensory input from encountering absolute darkness similar to that of our eyes meeting light. We say ‘it was all black’ when we talk of darkness, so darkness is a colour and hence a relative of light. Not so easy to divide light from darkness – and not so easy to perceive of light without darkness!

Of course, in both versions of Genesis what is left unsaid is what there was before the beginning. Before the beginning there was not darkness, and, at least in the physicist’s Genesis, there was not even ‘nothing’ because nothing still tends to be a spatial concept. Nothing is still something! Nothing implies emptiness, but in the beginning there was not nothing, because there was no space for the emptiness. In fact, we do not have a word for the absolute ‘nothing’, for the nothingness beyond the nothing! Kant talked about space and time as the necessary features for human experience. With absolute nothingness both disappear, so perhaps it is not surprising that we cannot understand!

We talk about light as something physical, but we also use light as a metaphor for visibility, for understanding.

Enlightenment is the most prominent example. But our language is full of it, ‘she saw the light,’ ‘to shed light on a matter’, ‘it came to light’ etc.. “Publicity is justly commended as a remedy for social and industrial diseases. Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants; electric light the most efficient policeman” said Louis Brandeis. In a somewhat similar vein Plato: ‘We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.’

Light as a metaphor informs so strongly our perceptions of knowledge. This is clear also when Plato talks about the shadows on the wall of the cave. Our grasp of reality is hindered by being chained to the cave. The philosopher may be able to break the chains and see reality for what it is, but the starting point is that we are chained and that we only see what our imprisoned state will allow. Plato assumes that we do not see reality except as a reflection created by light.

Breaking the chains is primarily a mental activity on this view, but, of course, there is a physical parallel. The human urge to explore and to seek new horizons is the accompaniment to the mental breaking free, and we see this parallel very clearly in the Renaissance. Santa Maria brought Columbus to unexpected new land. He wanted to find the new route to India, he was in search of riches, but he was also an explorer, somebody who wanted give us new ways, new knowledge.

And the renaissance, of course, did give a new worldview. Not only with a new continent, but with a move from the geocentric to the heliocentric perspective. Cusanus, Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, all products of the renaissance. And Copernicus, Galileo and Kepler all entirely dependent on actual light as they pursued enlightenment before its actual Age.

By and large we have stayed on the path the renaissance scientists and the ensuing Enlightenment have shown us. The Romantics may have rebelled, but ours is a science and technology dominated society. A society beholden to narrow logic despite the protestations of anti-positivists . A preeminent Enlightenment figure like David Hume explained, by the use of perfectly rational analysis, that ‘reason is the slave to our emotions’, yet it is debatable whether we calibrate emotion sufficiently in our investigations. To let reason vet our emotions is surely a wise corrective, but whether we value emotion sufficiently and correctly in seeking truth can be doubted. The chess World Champion Magnus Carlsen said in an interview that some of his best moves had been intuitive. In a wildly analytical game like chess this statement is not obvious. But it perhaps demonstrates a place for emotion in rational inquiry that we are reluctant to accept. Perhaps vast mastery of a discipline allows emotion to re-enter. And perhaps humankind has gained such a mastery of science that it will allow emotional inquiry to again play a larger role!

Generally, we have come quite far out of the cave. Our knowledge has become so extensive that our confidence might have become excessive. A recent film about Stephen Hawking is called ‘The Theory of Everything’. Not ‘A theory’ but ‘The theory’. That is bold stuff. The title seems to chime in the ultimate success of Enlightenment, whilst also sounding a bit like proclaiming ‘the end of history’ or even ‘the end of time’.

Physics have certainly come a long way in terms of explaining things, with Schrödinger’s wave function being the foundation of all ‘materiality’ and Max Tegmark suggesting that all reality is just relativity that can be captured in mathematical formulas, hence his book ‘Our Mathematical Universe’. The theory of everything is an ultimate aspiration of immense beauty – but are we, for all our knowledge, really close?

The theory of everything must ultimately be a theory of everything we ask ourselves, or can ask ourselves, not necessarily a theory of everything everything. Reality has throughout human history shown itself to have many more facets and dimensions than we start out believing, and the theory of everything might hence just be a step to understanding an even wider and wilder reality.

The theory of everything in an absolute sense, should it come about, would, by the way, not mean that we then actually understand everything – it would only be a tool allowing us to understand everything, so in that sense would not herald end time. Even with the theory of everything there would still be much to explore by deploying our God-like new tools to the immense diversity of reality.

But more fundamentally, light as rational enquiry has given humankind a tool for enlightenment on everything that can be exposed by such light. But can all be so exposed? In our material times we may think that spirit and spirituality is just another ‘material’ quality, but perhaps it is of a different quality altogether, to be explored by other means. Perhaps the theory of everything will be the theory of everything that can be captured by scientific means as we understand them now. This was the fear of one of the fathers of quantum mechanics, Werner Heisenberg: ‘The positivists have a simple solution: the world must be divided into that which we can say clearly and the rest, which we had better pass over in silence. But can one conceive of a more pointless philosophy, seeing that what we can say clearly amounts to next to nothing?’ In this sense, is it possible that we cannot rationalize quantum mechanics because it has an undiscovered spiritual dimension not present in gravity and relativity?

Perhaps another theory of everything is needed to capture all features of the spirit, which might, or might not, be the result of a wave function. The latter is a question much wider than the religious question on whether humans possess a soul! A question even more interesting, perhaps, than all the questions that can be captured by current scientific method.

Whether the human condition would be well served by a theory of truly everything, leading ultimately to perfect knowledge, is doubtful. Striving for understanding is such a central feature of human existence both at the personal and the societal level. A human society without seeking the light of truly new insight might not be so human! Thus we should perhaps relish Tennyson’s words while we can:


Not of the sunlight,

Not of the moonlight,

Not of the starlight!

O young Mariner,

Down to the haven,

Call your companions,

Launch your vessel,

And crowd your canvas,

And, ere it vanishes

Over the margin,

After it, follow it,

Follow The Gleam.