Is freedom in the mind? Can we make ourselves feel more free? Why does it seem that freedom cannot be an inevitably relative concept?

As I've mentioned before I recently quit my job (after working in technology support for a law firm for almost twelve years,) and with it my career (of almost twenty-two years). This was a change I'd been planning for and working toward for some time. Already it has had a profound effect on my sense of self, and, in particular, on my sense of freedom. Since this change coincided with the birth of my second son, I'm not actually particularly more free — in terms of available time (which is why it's after 9pm and I'm only just sitting down to write my blog!) but I now feel free, whereas I used to feel tethered.

In an interview with Alison Link the NY Times explores the concept of personal freedom. Link presents some fascinating concepts and relates experiences about freedom, leisure and our sense of self. In particular, I was struck by the following thoughts from Link:

- "I am most at leisure when I feel free, present and integrated."

- "wouldn’t it be great if we didn’t define ourselves by our work? It should be just as valid to define ourselves by our leisure."

- "Whenever I conduct workshops …, I ask people how free they feel … on a scale of 0 to 100. The responses are usually about the same whether I am talking to people in a correctional facility or at a workplace. I have learned firsthand that some people feel free while behind bars (and use their time in a positive way), yet others feel “locked up” while living in society."

Link endorses the idea that leisure deserves to be prioritized. She counsels people to think about what they find most fulfilling and when they feel their best. Then she encourages them to find ways to increase the time spent on these things, even if the only time they have available is a few minutes here and there.

Link also recognizes that people have many reasons not to give themselves this freedom. She encourage people to avoid behaviors and patterns that will prevent them from indulging their sense of freedom.

The concept of restriction or "non-freedom" can correspond to real circumstances — being bound or confined, for instance. But in the sense of this post, and in the sense that interests Link, it corresponds to a state of mind. Link isn't saying that people can't ever be confined, and that any sense of non-freedom is artificial, she's saying that even in the most restricted of circumstances our sense of freedom relates largely to our perception of freedom.

In Victor Frankl's marvelous book — Man's Search for Meaning — he relates how when he was in a Nazi concentration camp he and his fellow prisoners experienced moments of real joy (when being given a morsel more food or assigned to a marginally less arduous work detail). Despite the incomparable horrors of Nazi confinement, joy (the freedom of the spirit) was still possible.

Link gives the example of a woman working long stressful days in television production. She counseled the woman to plan and schedule even a few minutes of activity that she would find fulfilling (a cup of coffee, a short stroll) into her days. The woman reported an increased sense of freedom. Likewise, Link's experiences with prisoners yielded examples of freedom despite confinement.

All of this can help us feel freer, I think, as we live our lives.

1. Freedom can be as much a matter of perspective as it is a matter of circumstance.

2. We can feel freer by taking small positive steps to do more things that feel fulfilling and to do fewer things that feel confining.

But here's the catch: Circumstances really do have an effect on our sense of freedom. Link is preaching small change, mindset adjustment, as an effective technique no matter what. But, as Link recognizes, this can be just the first step toward more profound changes. (It's not as though Link wouldn't recommend to an inmate that he or she will feel freer by staying out of jail in future.)

Yes, we need to first understand that our sense of freedom is to a large degree determined by our perspective on it, and that no matter what the circumstances we can make small adjustments that contribute to our sense of freedom. But in keeping with this perspective we can also make large adjustments that will have a profound effect on our sense of freedom.

It is never too late and our situations are never too desperate to make small and large changes that will make us feel freer.

For a rational, science-based explanation of life's meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

Following on from yesterday's post, Craig Newmark (the Craig of Craigslist) graciously agreed to answer a few questions about the phenomenon of a new philanthropy created in part by the boom in the technology economy. Here is the interview:

Q. Is the philanthropy of the likes of Bill Gates, Larry Page, Jimmy Wales and yourself a truly new force in society?

A. I think it's novel in two senses:

– greater focus on investment in self-sustaining good, where good efforts can sustain themselves or maybe get others to do even more good. example: microfinance

– involve many others in their efforts, creating mass movements. examples: wikipedia, microfinance

Q. Has the rapidity of your success (you're just 55, I think) made you better able to effect positive change in the world?

A. It's been thirteen years, not so rapid, probably not a factor.

on the other hand, I'm a nerd, the whole plastic pocket protector cliche. In school, a nerd gets excluded from a lot, and I remember that, and choose to use the Net as a tool for the inclusion of everyone. So it's not age that's relevant, but inner reflection followed by action.

Q. You've said that you believe in keeping the Internet free. Are there other things you think should be free to everyone (like higher education and healthcare)?

A. I think education and healthcare should be freely available to everyone, but how to make that happen adequately, no one's quite solved that.

Q. It often seems that governments aren't able to meet critical social challenges. Is the work of the new philanthropists filling a void or allowing government off the hook?

A. I think that work is about finding ways to make public/private partnerships solve problems.

Q. With Craigslist you have stayed connected to your users by handling customer service. In your philanthropic work, how do you field-test your ideas and convictions?

A. The work's just started, will be decades long in many cases, and I just don't know how to measure success now.

On the disjunct between power and wisdom.

I keep coming back to Plato's words, not because they are perfectly rendered, but because they capture the essence of the idea that power and wisdom seldom coincide:

"There will be no end to the troubles of states, or of humanity itself, till philosophers become kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands." - Plato

And then there's Thomas Jefferson, not generally recognized as a philosopher, but clearly a man who lived and breathed the search for truth:

"I hope our wisdom will grow with our power, and teach us, that the less we use our power the greater it will be." - Thomas Jefferson

As we watch the candidates campaign for the presidency I'm most saddened and depressed by how far we remain from Plato's ideal of power coupled with wisdom. The deeper into the race we get, the more conniving and unwise the rhetoric becomes. (Clinton's racial politics and her unwise and insincere politics of pandering on the gas tax; McCain's hard swerve to the right.) The competitive, beauty pageant, micro-focused format of modern politics works against the ideal, of course. Obama seems to be sincere in his desire to break the mold, but he has a long hard road ahead of him and he's already begun to falter with snipes against Hillary and rash policy promises.

I keep being drawn to stories of good being done by those who've quickly made a lot of money and therefore accrued a lot of power while still remembering what it's like to be one of the have-nots. The Times has a piece on Craig Newmark, of Craigslist, who is one such newly moneyed philanthropist. Newmark, who's been slow to capitalize on the extraordinary success of his Craigslist idea, even says this about relative wealth: "We know these guys in Google and the eBay guys, and they are not any happier than anyone else. A lot of money is a burden."

The purist in me reviles against the idea that people who've been successful in business should be holding sway with social and philanthropic programs. But why not? Presumably, we'd be able to intervene if one of them turned out to be a nut-job who was out to achieve dubious ends.

Philosophically speaking, if someone has made a lot of money and chooses to spend his or her time and money dedicated to things other than making himself or herself wealthier, it's more than likely that they'll be aimed at making positive impact. The concept of philanthropy requires a focus on others over self. A persistent focus on self will tend to have a much less expansive outlook.

Whereas the desire for political power involves a composite desire to achieve sway over others and to be seen to effect change. The desire for political power doesn't intrinsically have anything to do with effecting positive social change. It should, but it doesn't.

This points to an intriguing development in the tensions between power and wisdom. Perhaps we will see a period in which politicians are shamed into behaving more responsibly and sincerely by the wealthy philanthropists. Why shouldn't social improvement occur outside the mainstream political spectrum? And if they do, why shouldn't this result in more pressure on politicians to focus on doing a job that serves the people rather than serving themselves?

Power rests where it lands. Wisdom, too.

For a rational, science-based explanation of life's meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

Just because we're superstitious doesn't make it rational, or does it?

It's been a wet week here in New York. On days when it might rain, I like to take along an umbrella to reduce, I hope, the chance that it will rain on me. This week I took an umbrella and still it rained. It hasn't shaken my faith in my superstition.

John Tierney's "Why Superstition Is Logical" makes a muddled and perhaps incomplete attempt at explaining the rationality of superstition. He begins with the example of a rational person irrationally resisting the temptation to set her watch to the correct time zone until the plane lands. He then discusses some circumstances in which superstition induces a positive psychological boost to "do the right thing." To wit:

1. Students think that not doing their reading makes them more likely to be called on in class… so they do the reading.

2. People think that trading away a lottery ticket makes that ticket more likely to win… so they hold onto the ticket… obviously with much more of an upside potential than a trade.

3. An applicant to Stanford graduate school is less likely to get in if he goes around wearing a Stanford T-shirt… he may or may not get in, but he's less likely to look like a jerk.

I couldn't quite figure out how not having set one's watch before an airplane disaster fell into the same category as these examples.

Interspersing these sets of seemingly divergent examples, Tierney inserted yet another intriguing piece of data related to superstition. He mentioned that negative outcomes have a subliminal tug. We recall the day we got caught in the rain much more readily and with much more emotion than we recall the days when we didn't get caught in the rain. This leads us to believe that getting caught in the rain is the more likely outcome.

To all of which I have a couple of thoughts to add.

Let's say that there's a 50/50 chance that we'll get rained on when we think we might get rained on. And let's say that if we're neither overly optimistic nor pessimistic we'll sometimes take precautions against the chance of getting rained on and sometimes not. Naturally, if it looks like rain our precautions might include avoiding going outside, or taking the car instead of walking. On the remaining days, when we stick to our plan of going out and walking not driving, we've therefore, without superstition, increased the likelihood that we will get caught in the rain.

Here's how that works:

Start with ten days. Five will be rainy, five won't. Five days we'll be optimistic and risk the rain. Five days we'll be pessimistic and won't risk the rain. Of the five pessimistic days, we'll stay in one day, drive another day, leaving three days that we'll carry an umbrella. This means that out of ten days, we avoid the risk of rain entirely on two days, (on average one of these will be rainy). This leaves eight days, four of them rainy four of them not rainy. But we'll have our umbrella with us on just three of those days…

Even to get to an even chance, we need a little superstition.

Now to the other thought.

We recall negative outcomes for an evolutionary reason. They are learning experiences, cautions. All animals have evolved with this feedback mechanism. Or, perhaps more precisely, those that didn't have died.

For a rational, science-based explanation of life's meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

On the genetic ancestry of the duck-billed platypus, the beating of suspects by police in Philadelphia, and the race tensions in the Democratic primary contest.

The duck-billed platypus has a bill, webbed feet, lays eggs, but has fur and nurses its young. And now that an international team of scientists has decoded the duck-bills genome its uniquely ambivalent classification — part reptile, part mammal — has become a little less mysterious. The team found that the duck-bill's genetic line split off from the other primary line over 166 million years ago. It has many genes in common with other mammals, but has retained many reptilian genes.

In Philadelphia, police and city officials have hurried to stress that the beating of restrained suspects caught on tape by television news reporters wasn't racially motivated. The police officers were mostly white, the suspects black. (One presumes that this means they would have beaten white suspects, too.)

And in the contest for the Democratic nomination Hillary Clinton has again hinted that her success with white voters makes her a better matched against the Republicans.

We live in the confines of our prejudices. Prejudice rests on the fear that our identity of self isn't supreme.

Philadelphia city officials probably believe they act out of a different fear when claiming that race wasn't a factor in the beatings. One presumes that they fear the incident will fuel racial tensions. Asserting that race wasn't a factor allows them to feel that they're acting to diffuse the tension. But asserting that race is not a factor before that aspect of the beatings has been thoroughly investigated seems to work counter to that aim.

Hillary Clinton fears losing more than she fears anything else, even betraying her bigotry. However latent and denied it is, bigotry does seem to underpin Clinton's use of the difference of her race from Obama's as a tool to further her campaign.

The duck-billed platypus, amalgam of reptile and mammal, can stand as an emblem of the possibility of living without prejudice. Rather than spending so much time parsing our differences, how much better would the world be if we could acknowledge that the world is just as diverse and bizarre as we can accept it to be.

On lying, fibbing, tricking and kidding.

My four year-old son is learning the nuances of deceit. When he's caught claiming that he didn't eat that piece of candy you said he couldn't have he says he was "just joking." His deceptions have a straightforward purpose — to get something that he wants which would otherwise be denied him, or to avoid responsibility for something that would incur his parents' displeasure. Transparent and predictable, his lies seem to come with the territory of being human. He's learning about the commodity of untruth, and its cost.

One would think that by the time a person has grown to adulthood he or she has learned that obvious, easily uncovered untruths have little value and come at a high cost, especially when you live in the public eye.

Hillary Clinton, one can presume, must understand, abstractly at least, the high cost of silly lies. And yet she trots them out as if she were a four year-old. (I'm not exculpating Barack Obama, but his lies at least seem to be in keeping with his general philosophy and purpose, whereas Clinton's sometimes confound us with their preposterous posturing.) Claiming to George Stephanopolous, for instance, that her support for summer gas tax relief was something other than just political pandering insults the intelligence of those who would vote for her.

Recent research into the psychology of lying suggests that people lie to deceive others or to deceive themselves. This research also suggests that lying to deceive oneself has an aspirational quality — the student who inflates his grade point average aspires to that grade point average, and, more often than not, will get closer to it over time.

Very often politicians lie because they aspire to be right. They lie to defend a position because they believe in their ability to hold correct positions. Hillary Clinton desperately wants to believe that her aspiration to the presidency is legitimate. Beyond anything else, a victory would validate her sense of her right to be center stage — politically and personally. When someone fights so desperately to win, it gives us a window into what they feel they have to lose.

Philosophically, deceit is a simple concept — the presentation of untruth in place of truth. We can quibble about what we mean by truth, about whether anything can be completely objective, but this is hairsplitting. When a student says his grade point average is 3.7 when it is really 3.1 this is deceit.

And deceit isn't confined to humans. The natural world abounds with deceit. Animals camouflage, impersonate, dissemble, trick… all with the aim of staying alive or furthering their genes.

Early philosophers such as Socrates and Plato focused a great deal of attention on the mechanics of deception and the antidote of reason. They did this because they felt that too often people were deceived by illogic. Clear, unfettered truth was the primary battleground of their philosophy.

Amazingly, many hundreds of years later, despite great advances in so many fields, we still don't teach our children the fundamentals of logic and reason as a matter of course. Until today, until right now, I've thought that this was simply an oversight. But I wonder now whether the battle that Socrates started isn't still underway. Perhaps it's a battle of humanity for humanity.

Here we have highly educated people fibbing like four year-olds. In Socrates' day, the sophists were aware of their deceptions, and they succeeded because people wanted to believe them. Just so today, the Clintons of the world know that they're dissembling, but people want to believe them. We like rhetoric. We like to think that the world might be something other than what it is. Reality is hard. The truth is unsavory. Let's go for a drive…

For a rational, science-based explanation of life's meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

On why we learn, and why it's not always a good thing.

The NY Times Science section features an article today on remarkable research scientists have been doing into the positive benefits and surprisingly negative side-effects of learning — "Lots of Animals Learn, but Smarter Isn't Always Better." The research arrives at a somewhat banal conclusion: When it comes to the evolving characteristics of living things, the benefits of learning will always be balanced against the benefits of other adaptations, so that species reach the best balance for them not necessarily the highest level of learning capability possible.

To paint a less arid picture of this finding, bees that capture just one type of pollen have adapted to recognize that type of pollen — it's of no use to them to be able to learn about other pollens. Whereas bees that need to gather nectar from many different kinds of pollens have evolved to be better learners because the ability to learn from their experiences with different species of plant benefits them.

The research struck me as remarkable in part because of the ingenious mechanisms the scientists had used to better understand learning processes in all kinds of unlikely organisms from the microscopic vinegar worm, Caenorhadits elegans, which can learn using its meagre brain capacity of 302 neurons, to more familiar research subjects like the fruit fly. The scientists selectively bred fruit flies that were better learners (this took fifteen generations) by hand selecting those with naturally better learning capabilities (the description of this process is worth a read all in itself). When they pitted larvae of these smarter fruit flies against larvae of regular fruit flies in a primitive survival challenge, the smarter fruit fly larvae fared poorly.

Then we have the two questions that the research teased up but didn't answer — why have human beings evolved to be such good learners? And in what situations might it be disadvantageous for humans to be better learners?

Before diving into these murky pools of inquiry, I'm inclined to explore the concept and origination of learning itself.

In the process of learning, an entity (let's not confine ourselves to living things) develops a new response to a stimulus. Simple as that. Better learners develop improved or refined responses more quickly.

It might help to consider a non-organic example: The most recent versions of Microsoft Office have had a built-in learning function. After you've executed the same keystrokes a few times under similar circumstances, the program can prompt you to ask whether you'd like to do that same thing every time those circumstances arise.

In a living organism, instead of keystrokes the stimulus could be something like tasting a new food. After tasting the food a few times and finding it good to eat the organism can learn to seek out the food. (The research scientists trained the fruit flies in the lab to unlearn the attraction of orange jelly by spiking it with quinine.)

I would argue that the concept of and possibility for learning follows inevitably from the fundamental principles of space and time. Every change in state in space over time results in a set of stimuli with corresponding responses. It is an intrinsic possibility of space and time that a feedback loop will accompany some set of stimuli and responses so that a certain response is reinforced over others. This is learning.

Jumping forward to living things, the learning process, to a certain point, gets reinforced because it produces better adapted organisms. (Just as the scientists bred better learning fruit flies, so nature breeds better learning organisms, so long as other survival mechanisms aren't disproportionately compromised.)

So, now we're back to the key questions: Why do people learn so well? And what are some of the limiting factors for us as learners?

Giving an accurate but unhelpful answer to the first question we could say that people evolved into such good learners because it served them well as a survival mechanism. But I'd like to present a more helpful hypothesis — human beings evolved to be better learners because for us getting smarter became its own feedback loop. The smarter people got, the less able we were to survive without being smarter still. Early humans developed tools and built shelter. This had the effect, over time, of reducing our ability to live without tools and shelter. We ventured into new lands, forcing ourselves to learn to live in those places. We gathered together into societies, forcing ourselves to learn how to live together.

This theory also goes toward providing an answer the question about what limits our learning. We can be pushing up against our limits in many ways — rely too much on your use of tools and what happens when you're without your tools? Rely too much on the protocols of human society and what happens when those protocols break down.

But again, there's perhaps a more subtle and direct answer to the question. What we really want to know is why we wouldn't want to be as smart as we possibly could be…

My wife's uncle is an incredibly successful man who disdains high intelligence. He opines that being too smart makes someone unhappy. It's difficult to argue with this as a general hypothesis; very smart people do tend to be unhappier than less brilliant people. Bertrand Russell, himself an exceptionally brilliant man, expressed this well when he said: "I've made an odd discovery. Every time I talk to a savant I feel quite sure that happiness is no longer a possibility. Yet when I talk with my gardener, I'm convinced of the opposite."

For a rational, science-based explanation of life's meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

New findings of brain research, exoneration through DNA analysis, and relationship twists.

My four year-old son gloms on to new interests with great intensity and with a level of focus that seems infinitely unflagging. Depending on the interest, his mother and I either rejoice (relatively speaking) at his fascinations, or despair. But neither state lasts long. Just when we think he'll be a Thomas The Tank Engine junky all his life (despair!), he moves on to Lightning McQueen (better). And as we begin to worry that he's reciting all the words to the Cars movie, he drops that and moves on superheroes. Now we're anxiously awaiting the next new thing while we try to figure out how to dissuade him from wearing his superhero costumes — complete with capes and masks — everywhere he goes.

For children, new habits are old hat. But as we grow to adulthood, we tend to narrow our focus and stick to things we feel comfortable with. But according to research findings (and this one passes the 'duh!' test) when we stretch ourselves and try new things, form new habits, we create new pathways in the brain, and even new brain cells, that can lead to innovative thinking.

The NY Times article is light on references, but points to a couple of interesting concepts:

1. That research in the 1960s indicated that we're born with the capacity to tackle challenges in four primary ways: analytically, procedurally, relationally (or collaboratively) and innovatively.

2. That when we reach puberty our brains tend to close off half of that capacity, maintaining the approaches that have worked best for us so far.

These seem like very dubious claims. I've always felt that true analysis has to begin with innovation. Sure, spoon fed bookwork can be achieved with almost no innovation — if we're told to tackle a problem in a certain way — but if we're faced with a true challenge, one that comes without a prescription, don't we have to think innovatively in order to get the analytical ball rolling?

So, I take these strict categorizations with a large grain of salt. But I do like the idea of challenging ourselves to forge new pathways in the brain. And the more that I read about the studies in this area, the more excited I become about the prospect that people can change the way they think. (See Irony And The Plastic Mind and The Promise of The Plastic Mind.) We can respect the idea that we approach challenges with some mix of analysis, procedure, collaboration and innovation, even if we don't consider them mutually independent strategies. And this gives a new dimension to our habit experimentation — if we tend to do a lot of things heavy on analysis, try something that's heavy on innovation…

NPR reports on James Lee Woodward, the 17th Dallas man to be exonerated by DNA evidence. Woodward had spent 27 years behind bars, even forgoing chances of parole because he wouldn't apologize for a crime he didn't commit. The new Dallas DA — Craig Watkins — is determined to reexamine as many dubious convictions as possible in order to get the innocent out from behind bars. At an institutional level Watkins has begun to institute new habits of fairness and due process in the DAs office. And this seems to be a very important connection between these two articles. Just as we can stretch ourselves on a personal level to get ourselves out of a rut, to challenge ourselves to think more innovatively, so, too, the same thing can and does happen with society.

Institutions, after all, comprise people, people doing what they're accustomed to doing, and what they are told to do, or implicitly or explicitly encouraged to do. It is the Craig Watkins of the world who act as catalysts for change within our institutions. (Sadly Watkins success at overturning old convictions with DNA evidence can't be replicated in other parts of Texas — everywhere else the DNA evidence of these old cases has been discarded.)
(Of course, not all change is positive. The Bush administration has provided a striking example fo change for the worse, creating an institutional mindset in government that has set the country back several decades in terms of enlightened national and global policies.)

Coincidental to the main theme of this post, I came across an article on CNN.com that dips into the things that can happen in relationships when one partner makes a big change. The report gives several examples — the man who encourages his wife to become a nudist, the woman who ditches her fiance when he quits his high power job, and the man who loses his wife when he tells her he's a cross-dresser.

What's interesting about the CNN article vis a vis this post is that it points to a subtle way that we can forge new pathways in relationships just by being ourselves, by accepting our desire for something and being honest about it. Interestingly, the relationship experts don't seem to unreservedly endorse honesty and self-expression. There's a bit of finger-wagging going on. But in each of the three examples I found it hard to see that the relationship would be worth salvaging if it couldn't survive the new challenge at hand.

I'll end with the words of James Lee Woodward: "Time is what you make of it. You're living no matter where you are."

For a rational, science-based explanation of life's meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

On the remarkable ability of humans to innovate… and to repeat our mistakes.

Hewlett Packard today reports that it has created a new kind of memory chip component — a memristor, part memory, part resistor — that could dramatically reduce the size and heat consumption of computer memory. The memristor hold a record of its state, even when no power is applied, promising to solve a number of thorny problems (like losing RAM memory when a computer is turned off). H.P. has constructed memristors from "tiny, extremely thin spots of titanium dioxide" but the memristor concept goes back to the theoretical work of Berkeley electrical engineer Leon Chua who predicted the usefulness of such a device back in 1971.

Computer technology provides a seemingly endless series of examples of human innovation. Each time a boundary approaches that threatens to limit the increases in computing power, speed and storage capacity, someone finds a new way to shift the boundary.

Many other scientific disciplines provide similar remarkable examples of innovation on a frequent basis. Having just gone through the birth of my third child, along with a brief stay in the ICU, the field of medicine comes to mind.

In fields like technology and medicine the momentum for the innovation seems to derive from two main sources — money and focus: Money helps fund the research. And focus helps keep it targeted on particular goals.

The two are interrelated. Since there's more money available to pay for certain kinds of research, these kinds of research get more focus.

In some instances, we shake our heads over lack of money and lack of focus in important fields of research. In these days of grave concern in many quarters over global warming, for instance, we despair that the government is so wishy washy or worse in its response. Two of the candidates running for president, one a Democrat, even recommend that gas taxes are eliminated during the summer holiday season!

But such discrepancies, we expect, should right themselves over time as people get their priorities straight. Another class of problem puzzles and worries me more. These are problems that don't get recognized as opportunities for innovation, areas in which we keep making the same mistakes over and over.

If a computer manufacturer today set about building a valve computer — the kind that used to fill a room and could do less than a child's calculator can today — we would dismiss it as being eccentric or deluded. In technology and science, innovation tends to be progressive. People accept useful innovations and employ them.

But in other spheres people hold on to old ways of thinking, even if they're unproductive, wasteful or dangerous. Why is this?

Hillary Clinton managed to give Iran the moral high ground by threatening to "obliterate" it if it were to attack Israel. Condoleezza Rice complained that Jimmy Carter had talked to Hamas and Assad, insisting that not talking to them was the only viable diplomatic option. We cut down rain forests. We allow politics to be overtaken by special interests.

You may disagree with my examples, but my point is that there are whole spheres of human understanding or misunderstanding that relent much less willingly to innovation and progress than technology, medicine, etc.

A couple of thoughts:

1. There's no money in advancing the fields of government, diplomacy and policy. Or, to be more precise, as George Bush and his cronies have amply demonstrated, there's money in doing the opposite.
2. There's no way to bring consistent focus, because there are too many differences of opinion and conflicting motives.

But I can almost hear you saying that there's another reason, that it's so hard to define innovation in matters of government, diplomacy and policy, and therefore it's impossible to recognize a step in the right direction. It may be true to some extent that these fields yield less readily to objective analysis. But that's hardly a reason not to try.

For a rational, science-based explanation of life's meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

On biobigotry, regular bigotry, and the apparent contradiction of free-will.

Natalie Angier writes about our tendency to project human characteristics onto, and make human judgments of, animals. We take a dislike to certain species and favor others. And we justify our preferences on the basis of an animal's behavior, its choice of habitats, its degree of invasiveness, its plumage… in short, on anything that inspires our appreciation or dislike. Angier calls this biobigotry.

Angier rightly implies that an animal is what it is and does what is in its nature to do; any judgment we put on it has relevance only as an artifact of our mind. By using the word biobigotry Angier connects the concept to the human-human bigotry of judgments based on race, gender, age, weight, etc.

Here we come to the paradox: If we say that animals do what it is their nature to do and shouldn't be judged for it, then carry this idea forward and apply it to people, who likewise do what it is their nature to do, we end up concluding that people, too, can't be judged as inherently despicable or adorable.

Is this a supportable premise?

It is wrong for Angier to condemn cowbirds for leaving their eggs in other birds' nests; that's what cowbirds do. But is it likewise wrong to condemn a person who steals, for instance? Isn't the act of theft a result of a certain set of circumstances — genetic, environmental, and circumstantial.

If we follow this approach to its rigorous conclusion we can end up deciding that no one can be blamed for anything. For most of us this doesn't sit well. So how can we resolve this paradox.

The resolution lies in the concept of free-will. The cowbird does not reflect on a set of choices available to it and decide it would prefer to leave its eggs in another bird's nest. But the person who steals has a range of options from which to choose. Stealing is a choice.

Immediately, though, we see a problem with this approach. One could argue that for someone who is going to steal the range of possible options is illusory. The options exist in theory, but in practice he or she is preconditioned to reject the other options.

In this new paradox we have reached the limits of the applicability of human judgment. When we judge someone we judge them against a range of possible responses and actions, regardless of whether the person could have actually chosen differently given his or her psychological makeup and the situation at hand. We judge and condemn, in effect, not the person, but the person's inability to make a better choice.