On Knowing Reality

When we tout science, we talk about falsifiable principles that can be disproved with a single instance of inconsistency. The cool thing is that those principles hold up. Occasionally throughout history, we learn a little bit more about the world and a few principles get shattered, but new, improved ones take their place. It is a process of constantly solidifying our grasp on the reality we live in. And it works. The more we know, the more fabulous our technology becomes and the more we are able to improve our lives. Without this concrete understanding of what reality is and what the consistent values within it are, we would not be able to design incredible machines like computers, electron microscopes, hybrid engines, and lasers. If our calculations and theories were off by just a little, none of it would work. This is the stuff of reality.

When someone pipes up with a hypothetical question like, "how do we know what we know is real," I roll my eyes. There are entire branches of philosophy that explore the realness of perception and observation, but pardon me if I dismiss them all as mental masturbation and patent bullshit. It isn't that science has gone as far as it could go (indeed, they said that 100 years ago and Einstein proved everyone wrong), but that, at some point, we have to stop giving credence to flights of fancy. Particularly, ones that cannot be falsified. Creating doubt around a reality we already agree upon existing is like packing three suitcases for a weekend trip. The notion that our senses, our only connection to the world we live in, may not be detecting reality is the kind of idea that crashes right into a wall not a second beyond the start of the race.

For fun, let's suppose that our senses describe a subjective reality, that there is nothing that can be objectively verified. We don't even have to lay ground rules for this experiment. We don't have to exclude schizophrenics or synesthesiacs or color blinds. Actually, in this world, we're all pretty schizo. If my reality was subjective, it would mean that you potentially don't exist. Or, since you're the one reading this, I don't exist. Or we are just parts of the same person. Everything I experience is a figment of my imagination, which would make me, by all standards a genius. You see, I never claimed to have discovered the special theory of relativity, but since I imagined it, I must have anyways. And even though I hardly understand Turing machines, I thought them up, too. Or maybe the words you're reading now were not written by me, but by you, as you imagine yourself to be sitting at your computer and browsing the internet, which doesn't really exist either. No, nothing would matter in the least because I only exist within my own head. Which means my actions lack consequence. Which means I am surely mad for arguing with myself.

Wow, what a mindfuck. I think I've seen a movie like that before. So we have two possible conclusions. Either there is a shared, objective reality that we can make solid determinations about, or I'm batshit crazy. Or you're batshit crazy, sitting there and reading something that you imagine that I wrote even though I don't exist. Ok, I'll stop. Either way, it makes sense to keep assuming that I live in a real, breathing world, where actions have consequences and verifiable observations are to be trusted. What is not to be trusted are things that happen only to me. Anecdotes are not evidence. They are as fallible as the memory storage system in our brain that acts as the only way we have to access them. They are nice stories, but they are not truths. If you're going to, don't even ask me to define "evidence" or "truth" - just keep wanking.

The problem with relativism is that there is no end to the imagination. It is possible to occupy one's self with an infinite string of suppositions without ever coming to a consequential conclusion. The same problem arises when we question the existence of free will. In the end, it doesn't matter if the world is relative or if free will exists. It is pure mental masturbation. It seems that the only practical reason for these arguments (beyond rubbing one's ego in a pleasing fashion) is to create a platform upon which one might insult or undermine objectivists like myself, who see the world as definite. Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again. It doesn't matter how you feel about it. The world is how it is. Live in it.