The Truth Bus

I was buying my first house. My brother remarks that I must surely own a piece of land that goes all the way down to the centre of the Earth – tapering as it goes. I point out that the centre of the Earth is molten rock, like lava. And I for one did not want lava bubbling up through the floorboards and leaving burn marks on the carpet. As far as ownership goes, a depth of soil sufficient to grow a carrot would probably be enough. Bruv continues with my patch of the Earth continuing on upwards into the sky as an ever-widening slice of interstellar space. Depending on the large-scale structure of the universe, my piece of space might actually be infinite, or it might curve back on itself in some weird way. I point out that my new property is just a ground-floor flat. The neighbours might have something to say if I were to claim ownership of the sky or of interstellar space. And besides, what about aliens? So really I just had a little rectangle of real estate (or more precisely, a cuboid) – which, whilst it seemed securely fixed to the ground, was in fact turning with the Earth. And of course, also turning with the Earth’s passage around the sun, which of course was turning with the rotation of the galaxy, which of course was drifting through space in some way. But in relation to what, exactly? Could we fix the position by finding the centre of the universe? If so, then maybe that strange corkscrew path of my flat through space could be figured out. I was getting as crazy as my brother. But these are the sorts of questions that physics tries to figure out. Perhaps philosophy has more luck. Because, here, for sure, there is a fixed point. It’s called the self. The most famous philosophical quote says: ‘I think, therefore I am’. It’s the ‘I am’ bit that’s really important. As many have pointed out, René Descartes, who coined the phrase, might as well have said – God, it’s cold in here, therefore I am. Or – I could really murder a bacon sandwich right now, therefore I am. Or even – I should really have changed my underwear days ago, therefore I am. The important thing is, the ‘I am’ is the fixed point in space – our little house plot, if you like. ‘Below it’, so to speak, are all the myriad questions about brains, consciousness, the ego and the sub-conscious. (I myself function mainly with my reptilian brain – it’s a bloke thing. The neighbours at number 23 are more like at the amoeba stage.) And then ‘above’ that piece of ground of the essential self are all the things that we think we can add to our knowledge. Other people. Observations of the world. Scientific theories. Geometry. Mathematics. Logic. Problem is, none of it’s been proven. Yeah, some folk think there can be progress – that we can gain knowledge beyond the simple thought of our own existence. Going back to our metaphor again – the fixed point in space – could we really say that there is a ‘fixed point’ in philosophy? Some would say yes. There is a kind of TRUTH HQ, where all manner of facts reside – quite apart from whether anyone believes them or has even discovered them. In here, for instance, might be the axioms of geometry and mathematics, the rules of logic, the laws of physics, and more besides. We like this TRUTH HQ idea very much. But mostly, to the question of whether there is a fixed point in philosophy outside of our own minds, the answer these days is a resounding NO! There is no agreement, only more and more questions. That’s the current state of philosophy. So what to do? In the UK we have what are called Ordnance Survey maps. They are amazingly popular, even in these days of sat-nav and Google Earth. The OS map is based on over 6,000 fixed points – ‘trig’ points – that are physically marked across the landscape of the UK. And there are many hundreds of thousands of little arrows carved into stone gateposts and other such long-lasting locations that are points where the exact height of the point above sea-level is marked on the map. Despite all this accuracy though, the map is not the land. And this is what we do with reality. We make maps. We form a narrative about the way the world is. But the map and the narrative are not the reality. Back on the OS map, certain features of the land are lovingly picked out for our attention (I think it really is done with love!) There are contour lines, roads, built-up areas, open ground, forests, mud flats, beaches. Again, we do something similar with our knowledge maps – our narratives about the world. We are captivated by essence – by the things that we think of as ‘things in themselves’. The ancient philosophers used the word essence quite a bit. Along with form, substance, species and genera, essence was a way of defining and categorising the world. All of those terms are contentious now and thought of as having, at best, only poetic meaning – or otherwise the meaning has changed into something a lot more mundane. But I think that, even so, we cling to notions of essence – even those who deny essence as having any meaning still cling to it! So there it is – narrative and essence – the ways we make sense of a world that otherwise makes no sense outside the fact of our own individual existence. The narrative and the essence take many twists and turns when trying to make sense of the world – just like my brother’s subterranean and interstellar real estate. But that, for me, is a worthy pursuit of philosophy – how do we make sense of the senseless? How do we put signposts on our maps of the world? How, we might even ask, do we pick out features with the same loving care as the maker’s of those beautiful physical maps? I wish there were a simple answer to this question. But no, there’s not! There are silos – shifting narratives from various perspectives – all trying to hone in on a good and useful truth. But we’ll not make it. If only we could sit back and laugh at our folly! If only we could relax and enjoy each other’s stories! If only we saw truth as a conversation and a moveable feast! This is the real ‘truth’, if you like – not a Truth HQ but a ‘truth bus’ where conversations control the steering. It could be a fun journey, if we relax a bit and let the bus go where it will. I say this because, despite all this stuff about maps and narratives and essence, people don’t live by their truth that much anyway! So why worry too much whether you agree with them or not! Just let it slide on by, like the scenery from the bus window. Set the brain to ‘reptile’ and bask in the sunshine! If only we could all just get along!! Ha ha ha! Yeah, of course, the truth bus ain’t so jolly! People are continually making a grab for the steering wheel, and so the bus careens about, desperately trying to stay on the road, or indeed just stay upright! Yup, some folk just won’t take no for an answer and insist they must be right – they must control the steering. But, hey, there are others who just jump off the bus! There are ‘truths’ that are just so ‘out there’ that they cannot even be considered as routes the bus might take. What can I tell you? Well, just these two things. Trying to first live by our own truth – that’s a good first move. And second, just to offer your truth cautiously, respectfully, carefully, and in straight-forward and sensible ways. The truth bus is likely to be on a rough ride for some time to come, but there’s at least the hope of smoothing the journey just a little.