Saturday, February 23, 2013

We will be our own saviors, if at all

Most religions believe in some sort of afterlife or continuation of a "soul" after death.  Apocalyptic religions are those that believe in some type of catastrophic "end times" event that culminates in a supernatural being coming in to right the wrongs and injustices in the world.  Jesus was an apocalyptic Jew.  Christians carried on this tradition, but made Jesus the apocalyptic savior that comes back and saves them while destroying the wicked.

I now see the folly in this way of thinking.  This goes along with an earlier post of mine regarding god (or godly thinking) being "lazy."  I think any religion that believes and advocates that a supernatural being is going to come in and rescue us, and solve all our problems (including death), is both harmful and counterproductive.  Adherents to such beliefs will feel less motivation to solve the myriad of problems and difficulties facing humanity.  After all, if Jesus is going to come back any day now, what's the point?  He'll institute a world governance that will address all problems, or maybe use his magic to cure them all directly.  Back in my believing days, whenever people preached about the dangers of man-made climate change, I largely dismissed them, thinking "It's okay, God isn't going to let things get that bad before Jesus comes back."  I really did think like that.  I'm confident that many believers feel similarly.

Believers in apocalyptic end times may even contribute, directly or indirectly, to the aggravation of the world's problems.  There are millions of Christians who would see silver lining in the detonation of a nuclear bomb by some rogue state or terrorist.  Openly they would acknowledge it as a tragedy, but privately, and perhaps in religious circles, they would whisper about the imminence of Jesus' second coming.  It happens after every catastrophic world event.  Many people thought the end was around the corner after the events of September 11, 2001--I know I did.  Even if apocalyptic believers don't directly contribute to the worsening of world problems, their very attitudes may indirectly serve to enable and propagate them.  If billions of people around the world believe that the last apocalyptic battle will be fought in Jerusalem, should we be surprised that there is so much conflict there?  Establishing Israel as an independent state after WWII was, in part, a result of this apocalyptic Christian belief.  Thus, we have Christians striving to self-fulfill calamitous "prophecy," and people suffer and die because of it.

The problem of death is easily the biggest one that religion seeks to solve.  Religion assures us that this life is not all there is, that we will continue to exist even after all our organs fail.  Naturally, I can see why this message is attractive.  Most of us cherish life and do not want it to end.  This belief brings us peace and the assurance that we will see our loved ones that have predeceased us.  During the many thousands of years of human civilization, this belief has been useful in inspiring people to do many things they might not otherwise do.  But in this day and age, with the technologies we have, and the extent to which we have already prolonged human life, I think it's time for this belief to be discarded.

The reality is that if anyone is going to save humanity from its problems (again, including death), it's humans.  We will be our own saviors, if at all.  In the beginning, mankind created god in its own image; and in the end, mankind will transcend itself and become "god," provided it doesn't destroy itself in the process.  Humanity faces many problems and existential threats.  We are capable of destroying ourselves and virtually all life on the planet in an alarmingly short amount of time.  Our development of biotechnology and nanotechnology enables us to create and innovate even more ways of self-destruction.  There is also the possibility (however remote) that we get hit by a large asteroid and experience another mass-extinction event, like the dinosaurs.  If we do not reverse or dramatically reduce our carbon footprint, we risk destroying our environment.  We have to face these problems head on.  We created most of these problems, and we alone will be responsible for fixing and/or avoiding them.

This perspective is, admittedly, frightening at first.  But that is often the case with reality.  After the initial fright and discomfort subsides, I find this perspective very empowering.  Such a paradigm shift would constitute what psychologists call an internalization of one's locus of control (typically seen as a good thing).  I look around me at all the amazing things we are innovating and creating.  I am convinced that it is within our ability to solve climate change, eliminate hunger and poverty, dramatically prolong human life (perhaps even to the point of achieving some form of immortality), and achieve world peace.  None of the solutions are necessarily simple, but they are within our reach, and it is up to us--and only us--to realize them.  This means that we have to turn our focus away from the imaginary savior in the skies and inward, on ourselves.  We have to become responsible and accountable.  No one is going to bail us out.  No one will save us but ourselves.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Real Hopes, Real Fears

My desertion of religious faith was, at first, bittersweet.  As I've expressed before, I initially mourned the loss of hope for immortality and eternal life with a heavenly father and my family.  On the other hand, with welcome relief I let go of fears of coming under godly condemnation and possibly being separated from my family forever.

Now I look back on my old religious hopes and fears with some embarrassment.  They were all illusory.  My fears were taught to me.  I feared gays and their diabolical "agenda."  I feared "worldly" pleasures and the misery they would undoubtedly bring to my life.  I feared the calamities incident to the imminent second coming of Jesus.  I feared going to Mormon hell.  So many useless fears.  I might as well have wasted time fearing the monster under my bed or the bogeyman in my closet.  My religious hopes were similarly silly.  As a kid I would actually sit around and daydream about the types of worlds I would create once I became a god.  I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy books, so I had quite the imagination.  Little did I realize that being a god in Mormon thought means being pretty much like our god and just implementing a silly plan that requires a savior and damnation for a large chunk of your offspring, over and over, for all eternity.  No thanks.

Nowadays I feel like my hopes and fears are much more material.  I fear the following (in no particular order): man-made environmental ruin, nuclear holocaust, biological warfare, death, human extinction, etc.  As a believer, I didn't worry about any of these, because I believed that no matter how bad things got, God would never allow humans to annihilate themselves, and death was no big deal because hey, resurrection and immortality for all, right?  Now that I no longer cling to such beliefs, the dangers in the world become much more salient.  While I recognize that global violence is actually at its lowest levels in recorded history, I also acknowledge that our self-destructive abilities are great than they've ever been.  We literally have the ability to wipe out virtually all human life on the planet overnight.  And there isn't any deity that would step in to intervene.  That would be the end of humanity.

On the other hand, my hopes are now much more real, as well.  I have genuine hope that despite the dangers, perils, and threats that we face (mostly self-made), we will innovate new and better ways to deal with our problems.  Technology and modern science are two-edged swords, but I think the progress they have generated is undeniable.  I believe that someday we will figure out a way to cure most, if not all, of our biological problems.  I think reversal of aging will become commonplace someday.  I think we will be able to achieve de facto immortality--perhaps not in my lifetime, but at some point in the future.  There are companies now that offer cryogenic services where for a fee, you can have your brain or body frozen in liquid nitrogen in an effort to preserve you until a time in the (perhaps distant) future when science will have come up with a way to resuscitate bodies and prolong life.  I'm seriously considering it myself (my brain, at least), as I think it's worth the risk/cost.  (Besides, worst case scenario is that it doesn't work, and I'm dead anyway.)  Some might call that crazy; I call it covering all my bases, because I'm certainly not going to count on the existence of a soul and life after death as described by the religious.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Have I Rediscovered Religion?

No, not really.  It's actually much better than that.  Lately I've been listening to the audio book version of "The Singularity is Near" by Ray Kurzweil.  It talks about an imminent "singularity," which is defined as the point at which the rate of technological progress becomes so great, we won't be able to follow it unaided and the results may be totally unpredictable.  An example would be the creation of an artificial superintelligence which improves upon its design in very quick successive generations.

The author of the book thinks this point is relatively near.  He thinks it will happen by the middle of this century.  He talks about the exponential rate of growth in technology that has happened in recent centuries and in particular the last 50 years.  He claims that we are very close to developing biotechnology that could halt--or even reverse--the aging process.  Mr. Kurzweil himself takes an enormous amount of supplements which he says has greatly slowed his personal aging process.  At 56, he claims he was given the biological age of 40, for instance.  He also describes efforts to reverse-engineer the brain.  This is apparently very important if we are to develop full immersion virtual realities, which he believed (in 2004) would happen in this decade.  He asserts that nanotechnology will radically change our mode of existence, particularly when we are able to develop billions and trillions of self-replicating nanobots to perform specific functions in our bodies.

He makes a lot of other predictions.  I don't know how realistic his timeline of anticipated developments is, but his conviction is palpable.  For the first time since abandoning religious faith, I'm starting to feel a "hope" in something greater.  This time, however, my "hope" is based on a methodology that has a great track record for producing tangible, useful results--i.e., science.  I find it beautifully ironic that science, arguably religion's greatest nemesis, may be the tool that ultimately realizes religion's main promise: immortality.  Most religions provide for some kind of rationalization of death, whether by the continuation of the soul, reincarnation, resurrection, etc.  The problem is that they offer no mechanism by which it happens other than "magic" of some sort.  Science, on the other hand, has already proven itself by greatly extending life expectancies all over the developed world.  It continues to do so.  It not only prolongs our lives, but makes them less painful and more enjoyable.  In just a century we went from horse and buggy to automobiles and planes.  Cars can already drive themselves to a limited extent, and that technology will simply improve in the future.  There are also mechanisms in place and being developed that allow us to control robotic arms with brain signals.  There are so many things happening right now; the change and development is very exciting.

In the Mormon church, I was constantly reminded that we live in an exciting time--the last days before the coming of our Lord!  Of course, they (meaning all of Christianity) have been saying that for the past 2,000 years, so I'm not waiting by the phone.  But now I think we have very good reason to believe that we're living in the most important episode of human evolution.  We evolved biologically for millions of years before modern humans emerged some 100,000 years ago.  With the development of agriculture around 12,000 years ago, technological development could commence, and now in that short time span, we stand on the precipice of something big.  This is our defining moment: either we will transcend our current mode of existence in some way, or we will destroy ourselves in the process--because it is all too clear that technological development has never been without potential perils and side effects.  I feel confident, however, that we will overcome the challenges in front of us and realize our true potential.