What is Life?

Here's a mind-expanding idea for your consideration: “Life is that which organizes.”

How can you tell if something is alive or not? Generally speaking, you might do things to provoke reaction, and if it doesn't react, call it dead -- or non-living if it never seemed to react in the first place. But, what is it that motivates reaction? It seems to me that the motivation is about creating or retaining organization. If something feels threatened; in other words, if it senses danger to the form it is organizing, it does what it can do to avoid or counteract the threat.

But what about things that react slowly? Does a tree react noticeably when you chop it down? How about a carrot? Those things cannot move, or cannot move quickly. Plants will react -- albeit slowly -- to shifts in light, or to the introduction of poisons and such things, but the best they can generally do is to grow toward or away from the stimulus, and that happens at a rate that takes hours or days to notice. In any case, once again, they do their best to preserve the molecular structures they have organized.

It seems to me that the most reliable way to tell whether something is alive or not is to kill it. What happens then is that it's organized structure dis-organizes.  Plants, for instance, turn brown and/or start rotting. Animals do the same, they just do it faster.

Living things also often organize their environments. This is easiest to see in people, where we build houses or towns, and make gardens and such, but plants and other animals do the same thing. They are just more limited in their ability to manipulate (organize) things quickly. Often, their only real chance to organize their environments is to choose where to grow in the first place. Many plants and animals seem to have developed rather remarkable strategies for transporting their progeny to new and suitable environments. In this, they seem to exhibit a level of unselfishness: the strategy is aimed at future generations, and takes no heed for preserving the parent generation.

It's easy to say these things are the result of random chance. Parent trees seem to have little control over where their seeds get blown by the wind, or carried by birds, for example. There are many examples that lend credence to the “chance” hypothesis. (Note that many plants do develop relationships with bugs and other animals when spreading seeds.  Some may have a sense of timing related to weather and such.)  Still, the thing that matters is that there is an effort -- in all cases -- to organize. Trees organize molecules into trees; people organize molecules into people (and houses and such).

What about rocks? Diamonds are an organization of carbon atoms, aren't they? Is a diamond alive? Is coal, which is another organization of carbon atoms, a 'failed” diamond -- a diamond that didn't find the best environment in which to “grow?” Perhaps that's taking things a little too far. Yet, what about a planet? Could it be that the planet is what organizes both diamonds and coal? Does it organize carbon and other elements into bacteria or algae, too? Maybe or maybe not, but I ask again, what exactly is life, and how do you tell when something is “dead?”

So far as I can see, there is nothing in physics that predicts organization. There are all kinds of arguments that permit it, but there are no codifiable laws that predict it. As far as I can tell, the laws of physics predict only entropy, and entropy predicts dis-organization; random scattering of molecules and energy into a “smooth” soup of sorts. Left to itself, everything in the universe is predicted to eventually dis-integrate.

I propose that wherever we see organization, there is -- or recently was -- life.

Certainly, chance (or luck?) plays an important part in the organization process. All stars do not organize solar systems, and all planets do not organize amoebae or coal, or polar bears, for that matter. Question: is the amoeba a by-product of organizing for coal, or is coal a by-product of organizing for amoebae? I leave it to you to ponder that one. The point I want to make here is that organization is a “by-product” of life.

A by-product of my “Life-is-that-which-organizes” hypothesis is that I find it useful to anthropomorphize -- to personify -- things that most people consider as non-living. I think of Earth as a living entity, the organizing principle or force behind the planetary structure we see. I tend to call Her “Grandmother Earth,” and I ponder Her intents and motives when acting in my everyday life. I think of Her working for 4.5 billion years to create the basic environment in which I live, and which nourishes my body and brings enjoyment to my life, and I am put into a state of wonder and awe. I feel gratitude, too.

I do the same thing with “Grandfather Sun” and ultimately with the whole universe (aka “Great Spirit”). It's not the atoms and molecules I think are alive, but I think there's an organizing principle at work in all of it, and I find it useful to have a place for myself in that thought-framework, and to try to cooperate with it rather than subjugate it or take it “for granted.” I think of this organizing principle -- this life force -- Nature -- as sacred, and worthy of respect. And I think of myself as sacred too. I not only feel reverence for other life forms, I feel it from them as well.

Thinking and speaking as I do, gives me an unusual view of things. Recalling the influence language has according to General Semantics (  see post here ), this gives me a way to create a useful world-view; a pretty “map,” if you prefer.

And I do find it useful. I “go with the flow” more easily than I once did, and I think I get important things done more easily as a result. I certainly have less stress doing them. I also find that when I meet resistance to doing something, it frequently turns out that it was a bad idea or that there was an easier way to get it done. I offer my experience to you for consideration.

Is it necessarily the absolute truth of how things really are? I don't know. I am told, especially by scientists and atheists, that it isn't necessary to have an organizing principle; that it could all be done with random chance. I respond by saying that what isn't necessary is that we beat each other's brains out in competition to grab all the resources we can in complete disregard for the sanctity of life.  What isn't necessary is war; war with other people or war with Nature. What isn't necessary is to advocate the pointlessness of life and the irresponsibility of attributing it to chance. What I do know is that my hypothesis, and the way I use it, makes for a more beautiful and more wondrous world-map.

YMMV.

Making a Difference: General Semantics and Sanity

“Everyone complains about the weather, but no one does anything about it.” That was a common phrase in my youth. It's rarely said quite the same way, but lately, it seems that everyone complains about violent overreactions, apathetic complacency, boundless greed, needless war, and many, many, other kinds of human insanity. Yet, no one does anything about it. Well, here's something we can do to make a difference. It's not a magic bullet, and it won't solve every problem in the world, but it can make a difference; a big difference, I think.

I'm talking about General Semantics (GS). Please wait! Before you shut me out and go away, notice that this is not the same thing as “semantics.” Semantics argues over the exact meaning of words. Semantics is about definitions and language. GS is about symbolizing our thoughts and psychology. Semantics is often pedantic. GS matters. The only relationship between them is meaning; both subjects are about meaning.

We often speak emotionally, or habitually, or just plain carelessly. GS posits that while this may be the result of sloppy thinking, it is just as much a cause of sloppy thinking. According to GS, as we learn to speak in terms of approximates and generalizations for the sake of convenience, we actually learn to think that way as well. Essentially, we program ourselves.

Alfred Korzybski, who founded this subject in the early 1930s, proposed that the words we speak, if we speak them often, actually create neural circuits in the brain such that we respond automatically -- habitually. In other words, we often react habitually, without thinking or at least without careful thinking. We repeat what we said and thought yesterday, rather than looking at facts, and seeing situations as they are today.

For example, in haste we say things like. “Joe is sick.” Compare that to saying, “Joe has an illness.” The first statement is permanent and unchangeable. The second statement allows for the possibility that Joe might not always have an illness. GS says this difference really matters -- it's not just “semantics.” Even though we insist we don't really mean that Joe is permanently sick, saying it that way actually affects our thinking -- and our actions. Need I mention that it can affect Joe as well?

From habit, we say, “The sun rose this morning.” If we actually think about it at all, we keep in mind that the Sun didn't rise, the Earth revolved. However, if we just toss out the sentence, “The Sun rose this morning,” without significant attention, then we create or reinforce a neural circuit in our brain-mind that's false. GS suggests that this affects our thinking, too, whether we intend it or not.

We generalize. We stereotype, we group, and we classify. That's useful and convenient in the sense of mapping things, but it's vital to keep in mind that “the map is not the territory.” Specific individuals and events are unique, and don't necessarily conform to a classification. For instance, we might say something like, “Homeless people are irresponsible.” That's just a “map,” and a rather poorly drawn one at that. It may or may not apply to a particular situation. It's just as false as the “map” (thought pattern) of the sun rising every day, but it's much more harmful in that it prevents us from seeing an individual person as who s/he is.

At it's worst, a specific “homeless person,” hearing the generalization, might take it in as a true representation of herself. S/he thinks of herself as being irresponsible, whether true, or not; or perhaps s/he thinks s/he is irresponsible when the truth might be that she did something irresponsible in the past. My experience tells me that we mis-identify -- saying is rather than has or did -- hundreds of times a day, and that, I think, contributes a lot to insanity.

Let me emphasize that our thought patterns go beyond talking. They often lead to actions -- actions that cause hurt and harm -- actions that tend to perpetuate our sloppy thinking. In other words, talking irresponsibly often actually leads to acting irresponsibly. It's like a self-fulfilling prophecy. We say something is so, and because we say it often enough, it becomes true. The effect is not one-time. Sloppy speaking, especially when it contains emotion, often percolates through society like a disease, and becomes a “meme” with a life of its own, so to speak.

So, it's vitally important, I think, to be aware of our words and their meanings as we speak them. The more we can learn to speak carefully; to say what we mean, and mean what we say, the more we can break the patterns of insanity in ourselves and in our society.

When I first read about these ideas in Korzybski's book, Science and Sanity, I thought they were exaggerated. So, I tried an experiment on myself. I noticed that I said things like, “my friend,” “my wife,” or “my children.” Did I own these people? Of course not! I didn't mean that I “owned” them, and I was sure everyone knew what I really meant. I thought it was just a way of expressing a social relationship. But that made it a good example to test the GS theory.

So, I decided to stop saying the word “my” in relation to people to see whether it made any difference. When I caught myself saying, “my friend, Joe,” I made myself say, “Joe.” Instead of saying “my children,” I'd say “John and Jane” (not real names, by the way). I tried this for several weeks. I noticed how hard it was to be aware. I'm sure I slipped a lot, especially in the beginning. Still, to my own surprise, at the end of about three weeks, I noticed that I actually did think of them differently. I found myself acting more respectfully toward them; I paid more attention to things they said and did. I “permitted” them more rights to have their own ideas and opinions. Note that I “permitted” them! Yikes! I really had been acting as if I “owned” them! It was extremely eye-opening.

Ever since then, I've tried to speak precisely. When giving an opinion, I try to say, “It seems to me,” or “I think,” or something to indicate that your view may differ from mine. When I don't know, I try to say so. I try to keep in mind that everything changes. Everything is different from everything else. Everything! Classes and generalizations are just maps, and when I use them, I try to make them as accurate as possible.

Time passes. The “me” of this exact instant is different from the “me” that was a minute ago; not to mention the me I was 20 years ago. This spring is different from last spring: the Earth, the Sun, the entire Solar System has moved a long way in space since last year. Every single particle in the universe is moving relative to every single other particle. Anything I say that seems true to me today, might seem different tomorrow. I do sometimes slip up and say things like, “So-and-so is a jerk,” but I try to follow it up with something to say that the condition might change, or could change, in the future.

There's a down side to this, though. As a society, especially as a television-viewing society, an internet-surfing society. an instant-gratification society, we seem to mete out attention in sound-bite increments. We are literally inundated with information -- much of it filled with memes and sloppy speech. It's too much to process with care. We also seem to enjoy emotional stimulation. It “grabs” our attention. One result of this inundation without adequate attention is that we get lots of “programmed” neural circuits just through mundane daily activities.

In conversation, I've found that if I pause to gather my thoughts and formulate my words -- often while fighting off internal emotional pressures -- my audience loses interest before I finish speaking. Sometimes that happens while I'm still formulating my words; even before I begin speaking. My hesitation is sometimes interpreted as an unwillingness to speak, or as a criticism of what's been said, and I am sometimes perceived as being aloof or indifferent. It gets frustrating at times.

I'd like to lobby for a social change. I think a big part of improving sanity is going to require slowing down, and waiting for replies in conversation. We need to care, not only about what we say, but about what others say. As we take time for ourselves to think before responding, and to overcome habitual and emotional responses, we need to allow others to do the same.

That doesn't have to ruin the “fun” at social gatherings. It can be a different kind of fun. What's the point, after all, of idle prattling, either in person or on the internet? Really seeing each other, and really caring about what the other person thinks and says, can bring real communication as opposed to social banter. Think about it for a minute: it would make the world a truly different place -- and a better one, in my opinion!

One final thought for this post: we can never achieve perfect precision with our words. If we try to do that, we'll never speak at all. We need to remind ourselves that words are only symbols. Words only represent things; they aren't the actual things. They can never fully describe reality. I think we need to care about what we say. We need to speak as accurately as possible, but avoid getting overly pedantic in the process.

Emotion is valuable, too; extremely valuable! It just needs to be recognized for what it is. Emotion is not fact, and doesn't contribute much that's useful to decision-making. Still, emotions are vitally important. Speaking them and speaking about them is factual in the sense that it's absolutely the truth about how someone is feeling at one specific instant in time, and in relation to one specific set of circumstances. Celebrate it that way. Feel it together. Share it! Emotions are communications worthy of our attention, too.

GS has additional techniques that can help us toward integrity, and sanity. You can find out more by looking up General Semantics on the web. You can read Science and Sanity and Manhood into Humanity by Alfred Korzybski. Those books are highly technical, and make for rather difficult reading, though. As a really good introduction, I strongly recommend a 2-volume science fiction series called The World of Null-A and The Players of Null-A by A. E. Van Vogt. They are fun to read, and they also explain a lot about GS.

GS is something to think about. It gives us tools and something to do with them. It's a lot better than just complaining. I think it matters, and I hope you find it helpful, too..