Richard Dawkins: "You have an evolved brain, which works by nerve impulses, and when that decays, what possibly could be left?"
Is it irrational to believe in something like a soul?
“Pray, don’t find fault with the man that limps,
Or stumbles along the road.
Unless you have worn the moccasins he wears,
Or stumbled beneath the same load.”
The above poem from the late 1800s is the origin of the admonition to “walk a mile in another person’s shoes” before being quick to judgment.
The meaning of that phrase seems obvious to most of us, even as children. Yet embedded within it is a profound metaphysical idea. One that is condescendingly dismissed by the same philosophers and scientists who claim the position of rationality.
On its surface, the reminder to “see from another’s perspective” is simple enough. We’re recognizing that different life experiences affect our actions, beliefs, relationships, and so on. The circumstances of our lives change us, and by recognizing a person’s journey, we better understand who they are.
But when we say that life’s circumstances “change us,” what exactly do we mean by “us?” What is being changed?
Whether consciously or not, we treat people as if some part of them is separate from their life experiences.
Hidden in plain sight is a truth about the universe, though not in the familiar shape of a physics equation or a mathematical theorem. Unfortunately, truths about experience don’t yet fit into elegant chalkboard equations. Every law of physics and mathematical proof was first an idea experienced by a conscious mind, then transcribed in such a way as to allow other conscious beings to also experience it.
The scientific method itself is as much about communication with fellow conscious minds as it is about investigation. A scientific discovery can’t simply be correct—it must be communicated in such a way as to be replicable by other inquiring minds.
Everything we know is inextricably linked to conscious experience.
For all of their differences, nearly every religious tradition seems to agree on something like a soul.
“I cannot live with myself any longer.” This was the thought that kept repeating itself in my mind. Then suddenly I became aware of what a peculiar thought it was. “Am I one or two? If I cannot live with myself, there must be two of me: the ‘I’ and the ‘self’ that ‘I’ cannot live with.” “Maybe,” I thought, “only one of them is real.”
—Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now
Beneath every religious doctrine, system of law, and ethical philosophy is an underlying belief that within each of us is something separate from our life experiences.
It’s a belief so fundamental that we often forget it exists. It is the bedrock on which the structures of morality, justice, individuality, and even our relationships stand.
It manifests in the idea that if we shared another person’s experiences, our differences could somehow be explained or accounted for. That life itself is being experienced by something fundamental within us. And that the lives of others are being experienced the same way.
Spiritual traditions use the vocabulary of “souls” and “spirits.” And while those ideas are often shrouded in superstition and dogma, the structure of the belief spans cultures and religious traditions.
It’s the idea that something behind my eyes and yours shares a common nature.
To prove that belief in a soul is irrational requires that we have a complete model of consciousness—which we don’t.
When asked if he believed in an afterlife, popular atheist and evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins responded, “You have an evolved brain, which works by nerve impulses, and when that decays, what possibly could be left?” His attitude toward consciousness pervades modern rationalist thinking.
And if the brain creates consciousness, Dawkins’ conclusion is indeed rational. However, that’s not the only model in consideration for consciousness.
When a radio becomes damaged, it may no longer pick up a signal. But that doesn’t mean the signal itself is gone.
We don’t know what the correct model for consciousness is. Some argue that we can’t because “knowing” is a conscious experience.
The purpose of this writing isn’t to convince or convert. It isn’t a dog whistle for dogmatic religious beliefs. Quite the opposite—the purpose of this exploration is to apply some rational skepticism to the position that deems itself the most rational.
Behavioral scientists remind us that actions speak louder than words. How we act and operate in the world is more telling about our deeply held beliefs than the words we say. And in a technological boom that’s given us the ability to literally walk on the moon, we instead spend huge amounts of time and energy socializing in the pursuit of shared experience, observation, and connection. Why?
We act as if something underlying our conscious experience shares a nature with the other conscious beings around us. As if those other points of conscious experience are like ours.
Reality is much stranger and more complex than we perceive it to be.
Einstein’s model of the universe is much more elegant without Quantum Mechanics. Unfortunately for our aesthetic taste, Quantum Mechanics seems to have a very strong grasp on a fundamental reality that isn’t obvious to us upon immediate observation.
The world around us is created by limited sense perceptions, and we know that reality is much stranger and more complex than we perceive it to be.
Whatever consciousness is, it’s strange. And for all that we observe about the world around us, every observation passes through its filter. Observation is a conscious act. Writing is a form of communication between conscious minds.
Is belief in something like a soul so irrational? Or is it more irrational to dismiss an idea that functionally every human acts as if we believe?
Could an important piece of evidence about the nature of consciousness be undetectably under our very noses?
"When a radio becomes damaged, it may no longer pick up a signal. But that doesn’t mean the signal itself is gone."
🤯
I’m finding this fascinating. Along the lines of the damaged radio idea, I am reminded of when my mother was recovering from a stroke. She went through a weeks-long phase where her brain was so damaged that she could not speak, and couldn’t recognize her family - and yet, if we would sing a song she knew, she could sing it with us word for word. Her brain, that rational thing that we think is all of a person, was damaged - but her soul, her consciousness, was there underneath waiting for the brain to recover.