Your Meditation Guide Blog

Below is a detailed response to my latest post, which Ken graciously sent me for publication here. After that, you will find a few additional notes from yours truly.

Dear Massimo,

Thanks, of course, for the very kind comments about my presentation at Brown. At your invitation, I’m writing a few comments to clarify and correct what I think are some mistaken impressions and also to point out a few areas of genuine disagreement. You wrote:

"Ken … quickly summarized the reasons why intelligent design is not science, why it is no threat to the theory of evolution, and why therefore the latter but not the former should be taught in public schools. But then he changed pace -- just like in the book -- and proposed a muddied concept of evolution as an intrinsic property of the universe, bound to produce beings like us."

Massimo, evolution is a natural process, and as such it emerges from the laws of chemistry and physics. Since you embrace naturalism as philosophy yourself (as well as science), why would you claim that this is a “muddled concept,” unless you regard scientific naturalism itself as muddled?

No, I did not argue that it was “bound to produce beings like us,” but it is obviously true that in our one and only run through natural history, evolution, in fact, did produce “beings like us.” Why? Well, neither you nor I can be sure. But the way in which evolution explores adaptive space (as evidenced by scores of examples of convergent evolution — of which you are well aware) suggests to me that intelligence would eventually have evolved somewhere, even if primates (or even vertebrates) did not. If you’d like to disagree, and argue — as creationists do — that the evolution of our species was so improbable that it could never happen again (they argue, of course, that it didn’t even happen the first time), go ahead. But in scientific terms, there is no hard support for that view. In terms of the actual experiment, we’ve got exactly one example of biological evolution, and one case of self-reflective intelligence.

You said I claimed that creationists and other evolution deniers:

"… don't want to be the result of an accident of history, from which they derive the (non-sequitur) conclusion that there would be no meaning in their life."

Sorry, but that is not what I said. What I actually said and typed on a slide was that people object to human existence being seen as a “mistake” of nature. Well, we are not “mistakes” of nature — we are features of nature, since we were brought into existence as a species by natural processes. That’s not a mistake.

"But how is this view different from intelligent design, I asked Ken?"

You’ve got to be kidding. The essence of ID is that natural processes are NOT sufficient to account for the emergence of biological complexity and new species, including our own. The core of my argument is that natural processes are FULLY sufficient to do exactly that. And you don’t see a difference? C’mom, Massimo. The difference couldn’t be greater — except, of course, for one thing, which you then reveal in your blog entry:

"... I had the distinct impression that he forcefully, and effectively, refuted Michael Behe-like arguments from 'irreducible complexity' only to look a few levels down, to the quantum world and the basic laws of physics, to find the same God that Behe (a Catholic, like Miller) is content to find at the level of biomolecules."

Ah, now we see the real problem. It’s not that you object to ID itself at all. It’s that you object to the concept of God — and therefore to you the real problem with ID is that it finds a place for God. To me, quite honestly, the real problem with ID is that it is bad science, and I had thought you agreed. But after our dinner discussion, in which you repeatedly raised objections to faith itself, rather than to my views of science, it was clear that for you the real issue is indeed religious.

"After quite a bit of engaging back and forth (at dinner) I got the following response from Ken: well, the arguments may be similar..."

No, the arguments are NOT similar at all. If they were, Massimo, then why was I so effective is dismantling Behe’s arguments at Dover?

"...but it is the intention that is different. According to him, Behe tries to prove the existence of a designer through (alleged) irreducible complexity, while Miller contents himself with deploying what he admitted to be a form of the anthropic principle to merely show that the existence of God is not logically incompatible with science. This comes perilously closed to drawing a distinction without a difference, but I do see the subtle difference (again, in intention, not argument) that Ken is attempting to make."

It’s a distinction without a difference only if your intention in countering ID is primarily motivated by resistance to religion. Then, any scientist who is religious (like about 40% of the members of AAAS) becomes a threat who must be dismissed with scorn as not a true scientist — or, worse, as a creationist whose views are no different from the sycophants of the Discovery Institute.

"Since there is no empirical way to discriminate among the three (or four) possibilities [of how our universe came to be], Ken said, he feels justified in picking the one that has more meaning for him."

No, not any more than you feel justified in rejecting the one that you object to the most — which you clearly do. Rather, I simply pointed out that to a person of faith, there is indeed a way (even if it is one among many) to understand our universe that is perfectly consistent with science. And so there is, as you yourself admit. It’s just that you feel compelled to pick one that is not compatible with faith — a choice with no greater scientific justification than mine.

You then, of course, ridicule the Gospel accounts of the life of Jesus — confirming, as you did repeatedly, that your primary concern lies in rejecting faith itself. Yes, Christianity may indeed be illogical and unjustified (as you believe) — but that does not address the issue at hand, namely whether there is a way that Christians can understand our evolutionary and cosmic history that is consistent with their faith. I think there is. But by spending so much time attacking that faith instead of addressing the issue, as you did in our conversation, you essentially ceded the issue of compatibility without realizing it. I’m afraid that your further comments confirm that:

"But, I pointed out, those alternatives -- even though empirically indistinguishable (at least at the moment) -- are not, so to speak, created equal. The latter two (or three, if you include string theory) are naturalistic and they do not pose anything other than nature to be operating in the universe. The first one, on the contrary, immediately begs the question of where the designer came from, how s/he operates and what his intentions are."

Oh, but your completely naturalistic explanations beg exactly the same question — it’s just that you don’t realize it. Specifically, they beg the question of where the mechanisms that generate multiverses or define the rules of string theory come from. You must either postulate another set of unknown causes, as any good naturalistic philosopher would, or chain yourself to an infinite regression of natural causes without end. The difference between us is that in scientific terms I am perfectly willing to admit that one cannot chose between these alternatives, at least today. You, however, are forced to reject one of them to confirm your own world view — and not for any scientific reason.

"…Ken presented evolution as a beautiful mechanism that produces stunningly compelling outcomes, to which I retorted that he was then facing the well known problem from evolutionary evil: natural selection is wasteful, it kills, it causes extinction, and it does so with the huge suffering of many parties involved. Isn't the designer responsible for these outcomes of his "beautiful" mechanism as well?"

This is a common — and logically flawed — argument against a creator. What you suggest is that a gracious God would have design a world in which there was no death, no pain, no suffering, no “waste,” and no extinction. Fair enough. But in that world, there would also be no room for a new species (since nothing would die to make room for it), no reason for evolutionary novelty (none of the competition that leads to natural selection), and no beauty (why produce beautiful flowers, plumage, or natural ornaments if survival is assured for every individual?). Furthermore, in the world you envision as ideal, there is no place for human courage, since there is nothing to fear, no place for virtue, since good is universal, and no reason to invent, discover, and create. Why bother to heal when there is no sickness, why help the poor and sick and disabled when they do not exist, and why face difficulties with courage when there are no such difficulties?

Like you, I do not endorse Steve Gould’s NOMA, and I made that clear. I think that science and faith have a lot to say to each other, and I made the point that any faith that cannot fully embrace science is not worth having. But (and here is where I think you completely misunderstand me and other religious scientists) that does not mean that one must then enlist — or distort — science in the service of faith. I don’t, and I would defy you to find a single example to the contrary.

Like you, I support the approach of Eugenie Scott, herself an atheist, but fully cognizant of the important role that scientists who are people of faith can and must play in the struggle for the integrity of science and science education. I would hope that you and I would stand shoulder to shoulder in that effort in the future, as we always have in the past.

You ended by quoting Feynman:

"I do believe that there is a conflict between science and religion ... the spirit or attitude toward the facts is different in religion from what it is in science. The uncertainty that is necessary in order to appreciate nature is not easily correlated with the feeling of certainty in faith."

Respecting Feynman, whom I admire and regard as a role model for our profession, yes, there is a difference between science and faith. But the “certainty” he attributes to faith is that of an outsider who has rejected it. In reality, humility is the beginning of faith, a humility that sees the capacity to reason, from which we construct science, as a gift to be treasured and defended. A scientist like me doesn’t approach the world with certainty, as Feynman assumed, but with an understanding of the frailties and limitations of the human intellect, always imperfect, but always with the capacity to learn and strive.

Unlike you, I don’t regard my “alliance” to defend science with the likes of Eugenie Scott, Kevin Padian, Sean Carroll, Neil Shubin or other non-religious scientists as “uncomfortable.” Heck, I am very comfortable. The reason, perhaps, is paradoxically because I place rational scientific concerns above sectarian religious ones, and happily partner with anyone who values the scientific enterprise. I do very much wish that all of my secular colleagues could see things the same way. We’re going to end up going different directions on Sunday morning, but we can and should unite on the value of scientific reason. Amen.

Thanks for the opportunity to address your concerns.

Sincerely,
Ken

Additional thoughts by Massimo:

Ken does not seem to make up his mind between which version of the anthropic principle he feels comfortable with. In his response he leans toward the weak version: since we are here, obviously the laws of the universe must have been compatible with our evolution. Yes, but this is rather trivial, and it does nothing to purchase the existence of a creator of any kind. Only the stronger version of the principle does, and I reiterate that that has to be considered a form of intelligent design.

However, I do agree with Ken that there is a significant difference between his version (the designer put together the laws of the universe, science explains everything except the designer) and Behe-like arguments (science is not sufficient to explain the universe as we observe it, miracles -- in the form of the occasional direct intervention of the designer -- are necessary).

Ken's distinction between my characterization of what the creationists have a problem with (they don't want to be the result of an accident of nature) and Ken's own (they don't want to be a mistake) seems truly to be without a difference. The bottom line is that many people are deeply uncomfortable with entirely naturalistic explanations of their existence because they don't feel special enough.

As for objecting to bad science (in the guise of intelligent design creationism) vs. to faith itself, I object to both. To the first, on scientific ground; to the second on philosophical grounds. I know Ken is a religious person, so he has to reconcile his science with his faith. But that isn't the only possible approach, obviously, and -- I maintain -- it isn't the most rational either.

That said, I have repeatedly pointed out that I don't belong to the Dawkins school of vilifying scientists who are religious (nor religious people in general). I think the primary objective is the defense of sound science education, on which Ken and I obviously stand shoulder to shoulder. Criticism of religion and promotion of atheism are also important issues (to me), but they are philosophical in nature, and ought to be pursued separately from the science.

I do think, however, that Ken is on extremely shaky philosophical ground when he insists that naturalistic accounts of the origin of the universe are on the same level as deistic or theistic ones. Exactly, how is it that answering "nature" begs the same sort of question as answering "nature + an intelligent designer"? We know that nature exists and that it has laws, regardless of our limited ability to understand or explain them. To postulate an intelligent designer on top of that leads one to a whole different order of metaphysical assumptions.

As for Ken's counter to the argument from evolutionary evil, it seems to me that one has to engage in quite a bit of mental gymnastics to claim that a better universe (as in more fair and just, to reflect the Christian god's alleged traits) has to include suffering and death because otherwise there would be no evolutionary novelty or beauty. That god is all-powerful, so s/he could produce whatever beauty and novelty s/he likes without having to bring in cancer and earthquakes to make it possible.

Finally, my issue with faith doesn't have anything to do with humility or lack thereof. The problem that Feynman (and I) finds with faith is that it means that one believes in something regardless or even despite the evidence. This attitude is not only profoundly irrational (by definition), but also embodies one of the worst values we can possibly promote in our society. At the very least it leads to poor thinking, and at the worst it brings about the sort of uncritical acceptance of doctrines (religious or secular) that too often has had tragic consequences for humanity.

I finally have my new art website up and running so you can check it out if you haven't seen my work yet. I have reduced prices on the prints and the originals. I have done two paintings available for purchase that are Buddhistm related. Just click on the titles below:

I am traveling back from Brown University (on Amtrak's Acela Express train, ah, the civilization of the Northeast!), where I participated in a panel discussion on evolution and religion together with Ed Larson (Pepperdine University, author of the Pulitzer winning Summer for the Gods on the Scopes trial), art historian Mary Bergstein (Rhode Island School for Design), and Brown's own Ken Miller, twice guest on The Colbert Report, author of a popular biology textbook and of the somewhat troublesome -- if much acclaimed -- Finding Darwin's God.

I have met Ken several times before, and I think he is one of the most effective advocates for the teaching of evolution, as well as an excellent critic of intelligent design. He is energetic, quick witted, and personally likable. Still, we have our disagreements, which were evident during the panel discussion, and which we explored further -- in the amicable spirit of inquiry -- afterwards at dinner.

Ken started his presentation with the same clear thinking and powerful impact on the audience that the first part of his book displays: he quickly summarized the reasons why intelligent design is not science, why it is no threat to the theory of evolution, and why therefore the latter but not the former should be taught in public schools. But then he changed pace -- just like in the book -- and proposed a muddied concept of evolution as an intrinsic property of the universe, bound to produce beings like us. He was trying to counter what he sees as the real crux of the problem within the context of the creationism-evolution controversy: it's not that people care about the science, it's that they don't want to be the result of an accident of history, from which they derive the (non-sequitur) conclusion that there would be no meaning in their life.

But how is this view different from intelligent design, I asked Ken? During his presentation at the panel and while reading his book I had the distinct impression that he forcefully, and effectively, refuted Michael Behe-like arguments from "irreducible complexity" only to look a few levels down, to the quantum world and the basic laws of physics, to find the same God that Behe (a Catholic, like Miller) is content to find at the level of biomolecules. (Behe's argument itself is just a new version of the old William Paley one from the early 19th century, except that Paley didn't know about bacterial flagella and looked for God in the complex structure of the human eye.)

After quite a bit of engaging back and forth (at dinner) I got the following response from Ken: well, the arguments may be similar, but it is the intention that is different. According to him, Behe tries to prove the existence of a designer through (alleged) irreducible complexity, while Miller contents himself with deploying what he admitted to be a form of the anthropic principle to merely show that the existence of God is not logically incompatible with science.

This comes perilously closed to drawing a distinction without a difference, but I do see the subtle difference (again, in intention, not argument) that Ken is attempting to make. He then proceeded to explain to me that there are essentially three ways to account for the uncanny set of physical constants that make our universe (and life in it) possible: a) it is the result of a willful creator; b) it was chance, we got lucky; c) it is just one instantiation of an infinite number of "multiverses," the multiple endlessly splitting universes that result from a particular interpretation of quantum mechanics. (There actually is at least a fourth alternative, stemming from some versions of string theory, according to which the universal constants simply had to be this way, and they are not a random sample from an infinite universe of possibilities.)

Since there is no empirical way to discriminate among the three (or four) possibilities, Ken said, he feels justified in picking the one that has more meaning for him. (How he gets Jesus, the Virgin Mary and all the rest from that, of course, is another matter. When I asked him why he believes those things rather than, say, the tales about the Olympian Gods, he replied that the latter are clearly a human-made cultural tradition. As if the Gospels or the Old Testament were in any way different.)

But, I pointed out, those alternatives -- even though empirically indistinguishable (at least at the moment) -- are not, so to speak, created equal. The latter two (or three, if you include string theory) are naturalistic and they do not pose anything other than nature to be operating in the universe. The first one, on the contrary, immediately begs the question of where the designer came from, how s/he operates and what his intentions are. (Another point of controversy during the panel was that Ken presented evolution as a beautiful mechanism that produces stunningly compelling outcomes, to which I retorted that he was then facing the well known problem from evolutionary evil: natural selection is wasteful, it kills, it causes extinction, and it does so with the huge suffering of many parties involved. Isn't the designer responsible for these outcomes of his "beautiful" mechanism as well?)

This exchange highlights how difficult it is to find a working model for a positive relationship between science and religion. As is well known to readers of this blog, I don't go for Dawkins-Hitchens-like strident atheism, though I certainly am an atheist and proud of it. I also don't go for Stephen Gould's famous "non-overlapping magisteria," which naively divides the sphere of influence of science and religion (respectively, facts and values), a philosophically untenable position (the sharpness of the fact/value distinction has been increasingly questioned in philosophy) and one that simply misses the point of the controversy (it is precisely because so many people insist in using their Bibles as science textbooks -- thereby crossing Gould's separation line -- that we have a problem).

The more I think about it, the more I agree with Eugenie Scott of the National Center for Science Education. She is an atheist, and her atheism is informed (though likely not solely determined) by her understanding of science. Yet, she knows that an all out science vs. religion war wouldn't be good for science, religion, or society (we've tried that, for hundreds of years). So I think the best that we can do is to come together with moderate religionists to further a common agenda of education and religious freedom (including the freedom to be openly atheistic). But this is an uncomfortable alliance because of the fundamental difference between the two worldviews, best summarized by physicist Richard Feynman in The Meaning of It All: "I do believe that there is a conflict between science and religion ... the spirit or attitude toward the facts is different in religion from what it is in science. The uncertainty that is necessary in order to appreciate nature is not easily correlated with the feeling of certainty in faith." Amen.

Well today is day three of the meditation challenge and I'm going strong. I have been meditating before the start of the challenge but it's great to have this chance to do this with people from all over the world, which feels like a virtual 90 day retreat. I thought of all of humanity as if meditating in one beautiful mass whether morning, noon or night I figured someone was most likely meditating while I was and that was a beautiful thought.

Oneness rose softly yet steadily and firmly into the present moment yesterday while meditating as concentration focused on the cycle of breathes. Soon I was just aware of the breathing and felt as though I was riding in a vast ocean of oneness from wave to wave as my identity slipped from my minds grip with ease. In that moment I was the ocean and the wave but neither at the same time. It made me feel small but not in an insignificant way but rather in a liberating way.

I'm contemplating the genjokoan and hope to have some insights in the days to come.

Academia is notoriously resistant to change, which to some extent is a good thing. It was therefore no surprise that when Wikipedia became a phenomenon most academics scoffed at it as a passing fad, fatally flawed by its very core idea: anybody, and I mean anybody, can become a Wiki author and post new entries or edit existing ones. Surely, this will inevitably lead to chaos and complete unreliability, the critics said. But a few years ago a study of a sample of entries compared the accuracy of Wikipedia with that of the unquestionably prestigious Encyclopedia Britannica, and Wikipedia was at least as accurate, in some cases more.

Of course the "open access" model does have its limits and defects, and even Wikipedia has to maintain a certain amount of vigilance and label particular entries as contentious or unreliable if there is too much traffic and a lot of editing and counter-editing (typically concerning political issues or individual politicians). Still, from apparent chaos the system has allowed for the emergence of a reasonably reliable first-look reference source that truly exploits the power of the internet.

It seems that the next case will come from another sacred cow of academia: peer review. This is the system used by modern academics -- both in the sciences and the humanities -- to evaluate a scholarly paper before it is published, the chief gateway to insure the high quality of a publication, be it in philosophy, literary criticism, medicine, physics, or what have you. The way it usually works is that an author submits a paper for consideration to the editor of a journal in the appropriate field. The editor makes a first assessment of the manuscript and, if deemed suitable to the journal, sends it out to two or more reviewers, chosen from among people actively engaged in research and scholarship in the field addressed by the submitted paper.

A certain amount of time later (which can be irritatingly long for the authors), the reviews come back with a thumbs up or down verdict, usually accompanied by (anonymous, and sometimes nasty) comments for the authors -- so that they may revise the original manuscript and send it back to either the same journal (if so invited) or to another one. The process repeats itself until either the paper finds its way into a publication or is forever abandoned on the heap of wasted efforts.

The peer review system has its obvious advantages as a gatekeeper for academic publishing quality, but it has equally obvious drawbacks. First of all, the number of reviewers is fairly small, which means that the comments the authors receive may be reflective of the idiosyncratic views of those individuals, and may not necessarily constitute a good assessment of the general value of the paper. Second, often (though not always) the authors don't know who the reviewers are, but the converse is not true, which leads to the temptation of stabbing a rival (or a rival's student) in the back.

One can argue that the real peer review actually takes place over a period of years after the paper (or book) has been published, and it is the result of how, in the long-term, the community at large values the scholarship of the authors. Some papers and books are cited often, some become classics in their field, most are never heard of again -- which in itself is not necessarily an indication of poor quality, but may be a simple reflection of the fact that too many people publish too much.

What I will call the classic peer review system, the one that relies on a small number of editor-selected referees, however, is increasingly under challenge. In the physics community, for instance, it has been normal practice for years to post pre-publication versions of one's paper on internet servers, to get feedback from the rest of the community before formal submission. People can now refer others to these pre-prints by hyperlinks, almost as if they were actual publications, thereby blurring the distinction between formal and informal scholarship. Moreover, an increasing number of open access journals now encourages readers' comments and even rankings to be posted for each paper, occasionally allowing authors to respond and engage in an open dialogue with the community.

This is, I think, a trend that is here to stay, and that will likely completely change the meaning and practice of academic research over the next decade or so. Still, perhaps the most spectacular -- if somewhat under-reported -- case of open peer review showed how the blogosphere can be a more effective guardian of scholarship than a small number of overworked editors and reviewers.

What happened was that two people affiliated with Inje University in Korea, Mohamad Warda and Jin Han, submitted a paper to the prestigious journal Proteomics. The paper was entitled "Mitochondria, the missing link between body and soul: Proteomic prospective evidence," something that should have alerted the Editor, Michael Dunn, and the reviewers that something was amiss (a proteomic paper on dualism and the question of the soul?). Warda and Han's review of the literature was meant as a criticism of the currently accepted theory that the mitochondria (the cellular organelles that are involved in the production of the energy that keeps the metabolism of the organism going) are the result of an evolutionary endosymbiotic event; in other words, that they originated from the engulfment of a bacterial cell by an ancestor of modern plants, animals and fungi.

Warda and Han wrote: "Alternatively, instead of sinking into a swamp of endless debates about the evolution of mitochondria, it is better to come up with a unified assumption. ... More logically, the points that show proteomics overlapping between different forms of life are more likely to be interpreted as a reflection of a single common fingerprint initiated by a mighty creator than relying on a single cell that is, in a doubtful way, surprisingly originating all other kinds of life."

It is difficult to make sense of the badly written phrase (no language editors at Proteomics?), but surely the reviewers should have been a bit surprised by the obviously unscientific phrase "a mighty creator." Regardless of whether one thinks that concepts like soul and divine creators make any sense at all (I don't), they surely do not belong to an ostensibly scientific paper. I am not at all suggesting that Dunn or his reviewers are intelligent design creationists: they simply missed the supernatural references, presumably because they were too busy and distracted by the mountain of very technical language surrounding that specific phrase (though how they missed the title is a bit more difficult to rationalize away).

The happy ending to the story is the result of the normal practice that Proteomics has, as do many other journals, of posting papers on their web site before they are actually printed. According to an article in the National Center for Science Education Reports, the first to note the oddity of Warda and Han's paper was Steven Salzberg, a professor of computer science at the University of Maryland, who blogged about it. That led to blog posts by Attila Cordas, Lars Juhl Jensen and PZ Myers, and eventually to the editor of Proteomics requesting a withdrawal of the paper by the authors, who complied.

Interestingly, the request to withdraw was not based on the creationist claim, but on the fact that the bloggers had uncovered another problem with the paper that had escaped reviewer and referees: the entire body of the article by Warda and Han had been plagiarized from other, already published, sources! Apparently, their only original contributions were writing in really awful English and references to the soul and the mighty creator.

The moral of the story is that the much maligned blogosphere ("you know, anybody can write whatever they want, and nobody's checking") in this case clearly surpassed the official, academically sanctioned system of peer review. My hunch is that this isn't going to be the last time this happens, and that we are looking at the dawn of a new era of academic practice, when papers will be scrutinized by thousands of reviewers within a matter of hours from publication. If we can harness this tremendous intellectual power in a reasonably orderly fashion, we will make the next leap toward a truly worldwide community of scholars and authors.

"The Big Sit" challenge from the Buddhist magazine Tricycle will start tomorrow, which I'll be doing. In fact, I've been sitting regularly the last two weeks whereas before my practice had been all too spotty for the last year. Here are some of the specifics:

1). Sit in formal meditation for 20 minutes each day: (I'm sure sitting even for only 5 minutes is in keeping with this challenge because I have found that any amount of meditation is beneficial).

2). Listen to one Dharma talk a week on Tricycle.com: (or elsewhere I would add if you don't have access to Tricycle. I would also think reading a Dharma talk once a week or a few chapters of a Buddhist book would work as well).

3)-Study Dogen’s Genjokoan, the text selected for the period: The Genjokoan is posted here--let me know if the link doesn't work and I'll post the text in its entirity in a post. Plus, if you want to keep in touch with just readers of this blog in the sangha/community that we developed during this sit then just sign up an account on Tribe.net. The Tribe that my friend Paul has setup is called, "Commit to Sit." It's not hard to find via the search bar. Tricycle also has a group setup for, "The Big Sit" which will be beneficial because it will host Dharma talks and advice/guidance from teachers. If you're interested in it then all you have to do is sign up with them (it's free).

4). Commit to the sixteen bodhisattva precepts:
The sixteen Bodhisattva Precepts consist of the taking refuge in the three treasures (Buddha-Nature, Dharma, and Sangha), and:

The Three Pure Precepts

Not to do evil.
To cultivate good.
To help others.

The Ten Grave Precepts

Not to intentionally or maliciously kill, but to cherish all life.
Not to steal, but to respect the possessions and lifetime of others.
Not to misuse sexual energy, but to be honest and respectful in mind and action.
Not to intentionally deceive, but to speak the truth.
Not to misuse drugs or alcohol, but to keep the mind clear.
Not to speak of others’ faults, but to be understanding and sympathetic.
Not to praise oneself by criticizing others, but to overcome one’s own shortcomings.
Not to withhold spiritual or material aid, but to give it freely when needed.
Not to give vent to anger, but to seek its source.
Not to speak ill of the Three Treasures, but to cherish and uphold them.

5). Practice with others at tricycle.com or at a local meditation center (Or with us on Tribe!!).

6). Begin when you like. Tricycle’s staff will begin February 23.

Yes, yes, I'm really having fun with Amazon's Digital Text Platform. Then again, it's nice to be able to distribute one's essays in a new format and to a potentially wide audience, so bear with me, I'll get back to actual posts on the blog very soon. (However, also keep an eye for a third Kindle release coming up: I have decided to re-issue my 2000 book, Tales of the Rational, which is almost out of print in paper format.) These essays look at science from both the point of view of a scientist and that of a philosopher. This reflects my own dual background, with original training in evolutionary biology and the later addition of philosophy of science. The two disciplines have always had a difficult relationship, ever since science originated as natural philosophy and became independent in the 17th and 18th centuries. Scientists of the time, like Galileo and Newton, thought of themselves at least in part as philosophers, and figures that we count today as philosophers, like Descartes and Bacon, thought of themselves as scientists. But today’s academy all too often relishes the division, with scientists like physicist Steven Weinberg brazenly writing essays entitled “Against Philosophy,” and philosophers like Paul Feyerabend calling for “a formal separation between science and state” to guard society from the evils of science. My columns are written instead in the spirit that science and philosophy have much to gain from each other, with philosophy providing a broad view of how science works, and even criticism of specific scientific enterprises, and science returning the favor by informing philosophical debates with the best understanding of the facts of the universe that we can achieve at any particular moment. I hope people will enjoy the quest as much as I do, and that readers will come to value honest human intellectual endeavor both for its own sake and for the good it can do to the human condition. As David Hume aptly put it, “What a peculiar privilege has this little agitation of the brain which we call 'thought.'”

Yes, yes, I'm really having fun with Amazon's Digital Text Platform. Then again, it's nice to be able to distribute one's essays in a new format and to a potentially wide audience, so bear with me, I'll get back to actual posts on the blog very soon. (However, also keep an eye for a third Kindle release coming up: I have decided to re-issue my 2000 book, Tales of the Rational, which is almost out of print in paper format.) These essays look at science from both the point of view of a scientist and that of a philosopher. This reflects my own dual background, with original training in evolutionary biology and the later addition of philosophy of science. The two disciplines have always had a difficult relationship, ever since science originated as natural philosophy and became independent in the 17th and 18th centuries. Scientists of the time, like Galileo and Newton, thought of themselves at least in part as philosophers, and figures that we count today as philosophers, like Descartes and Bacon, thought of themselves as scientists. But today’s academy all too often relishes the division, with scientists like physicist Steven Weinberg brazenly writing essays entitled “Against Philosophy,” and philosophers like Paul Feyerabend calling for “a formal separation between science and state” to guard society from the evils of science. My columns are written instead in the spirit that science and philosophy have much to gain from each other, with philosophy providing a broad view of how science works, and even criticism of specific scientific enterprises, and science returning the favor by informing philosophical debates with the best understanding of the facts of the universe that we can achieve at any particular moment. I hope people will enjoy the quest as much as I do, and that readers will come to value honest human intellectual endeavor both for its own sake and for the good it can do to the human condition. As David Hume aptly put it, “What a peculiar privilege has this little agitation of the brain which we call 'thought.'”

This picture has been around for awhile now and while I have seen it on other sites I have never shown it here. It is one of my favorite pictures because it shows two of the world's most influential people who both happen to be heroes of mine together in one picture. It is a powerful image showing how spirituality and politics don't have to be enemies but can actually help improve each other.

According to the theory of the two wheels, the state leadership (worldly wheel) and spiritual leadership (religious wheel) exist along side. The state gives support and protection to the religion. The religion gives guidance to the leaders to make righteous policy and decision.

As some of you know, Rationally Speaking was an e-column I started writing back in 2000, which morphed into this blog by the end of 2005. The complete collection of essays from those five years is now available in electronic format for Amazon's Kindle.