If you gave up on yourself, if you didn't believe in yourself, who would?
I finished reading Crime and Punishment. I had bought the first volume a decade ago and had never touched it since (except for when I was packing to move) but finally found the time to read it. I didn't think it was especially an impressive book. It wasn't exactly entertaining, nor did I think it would influence the rest of my life; some parts were interesting but I didn't feel like writing an entry about it right after I finished the book.
After a whole day, however, I thought I might as well leave some thoughts here. It was a surprise that the protagonist never actually suffered the pangs of conscience (or at least never clearly admitted it). On the surface, what he finally suffered from was the fact that he couldn't help but confess (which I guess means that he actually did feel remorse for having comitted a murder). He didn't think it was a sin to commit a "crime" in order to achieve a goal that would make a better world. Some people -- people like Napoleon who could endure his crime by strongly believing in himself and his belief -- had the right to violate the law for the better. The protagonist's sin was that he couldn't stick to his own belief. He couldn't believe in himself, and thus had to confess. He was ashamed of himself for that very reason until love saved him...
Everything was depicted pretty dramatically (it was almost like reading a play script); maybe I thought the second volume was better because I got used to the dramatics and could focus more on the content (and also finally saw that every character - some that seemed unnecessary - had his own role).
Speaking of believing in yourself, I was deeply moved last night by Mao Asada's free skating program, especially after witnessing the failure that hit her the night before in her short program. I had always looked up on her for her efforts and perseverance. She always knew that hard work was the only thing that could give you confidence, but often times, it was not enough for her when it came to important games; effort betrayed her over and over, resulting in anger and trauma. Her desire for the olympic medal deprived her of her confidence yet again in her short program -- another defeat to herself.
But she didn't give up -- finally last night, she nailed a perfect program including a triple axel jump she had waited for so long. Maybe she had let go of her pride and expectations; she had lost everything, and was back to the state when she had just loved skating and had nothing to lose but her strong will, now evident in every step, every jump. Asada burst into tears the moment she finished. When interviewed afterwards, she said rather calmly: "I believed in myself that I could do it. It was the program I always had in mind and I'm pleased that I did it." Her words -- her strength -- meant more than a medal.
It was really as if she returned to life under the spell of Rakhmaninov's music, just like the protagonist in the Russian masterpiece found his life once again after his "death".
2014年2月21日金曜日
2014年2月11日火曜日
overcoming yourself
Japan has yet to win a medal in the Olympics. Speed skating finished just now and we missed another anticipated medal. The two skaters who had been expected to win the gold medal didn't hide their bitter feelings when interviewed.
It reminded me of what my friend asked me a couple of days ago: Why do you value hard work? Why do you have to be the best? Why can't you be happy with what you already have?
Now, I personally think I've changed over the past year; I have found some happiness, and I don't feel like I need to be the best. I guess, however, that my competitive nature will never change, and obviously, it still shows. To me, it sounded like my friend was trying to tell me that it was foolish to seek happiness in hard work and its expected results. It's ridiculous to compare yourself with others; useless battles just wear you out.
So are all athletes in Sochi fools?
I don't think so. It's simply amazing that all these athletes have trained every single day for more than four years for a single race that's over in a matter of seconds or hours. It's impossible to imagine how hard it is to accept a disappointing result. But at the same time, it's also impossible to imagine how great it is when they win what they want.
I don't think it's just about competing with others. It's not a "useless battle". It's a battle against your other self - your weaker self - and overcoming it through competition. It's about proving something to the world, but more to yourself: that you can do it; that life's worth living.
Finding happiness in small things - fine weather, the smell of a new shampoo, a smile from a stranger - does make your life better. After all, efforts sometimes never pay off; these small things may be the only things that could make you happy if anything can. But hard work and overcoming weakness can probably give you what fine weather can never give. That's for sure. That's why so many atheletes dedicate their lives to the Olympics. And that's why their efforts are often moving, giving us courage to believe in ourselves.
It reminded me of what my friend asked me a couple of days ago: Why do you value hard work? Why do you have to be the best? Why can't you be happy with what you already have?
Now, I personally think I've changed over the past year; I have found some happiness, and I don't feel like I need to be the best. I guess, however, that my competitive nature will never change, and obviously, it still shows. To me, it sounded like my friend was trying to tell me that it was foolish to seek happiness in hard work and its expected results. It's ridiculous to compare yourself with others; useless battles just wear you out.
So are all athletes in Sochi fools?
I don't think so. It's simply amazing that all these athletes have trained every single day for more than four years for a single race that's over in a matter of seconds or hours. It's impossible to imagine how hard it is to accept a disappointing result. But at the same time, it's also impossible to imagine how great it is when they win what they want.
I don't think it's just about competing with others. It's not a "useless battle". It's a battle against your other self - your weaker self - and overcoming it through competition. It's about proving something to the world, but more to yourself: that you can do it; that life's worth living.
Finding happiness in small things - fine weather, the smell of a new shampoo, a smile from a stranger - does make your life better. After all, efforts sometimes never pay off; these small things may be the only things that could make you happy if anything can. But hard work and overcoming weakness can probably give you what fine weather can never give. That's for sure. That's why so many atheletes dedicate their lives to the Olympics. And that's why their efforts are often moving, giving us courage to believe in ourselves.
2014年2月8日土曜日
recycling
Human recycling. I think that's what organ transplant is in the end. The concept of brain death only emerged when human recycling started. Before that, no one was dead unless their heart stopped beating. Human recycling is wonderful as it saves many lives, but at the same time, it is not the most natural phenomenon on earth and I totally understand that there are many families who have difficulties accepting the fact that a patient's brain death means their death. And if that is why Japan has such a low transplant rate, I think we just have to accept it. But maybe I'm wrong.
Japan is said to have the best skill when it comes to organ transplant and yet we have the worst transplant rate among developed countries. The US still provides 5% of their transplant organs to foreign patients, and the majority goes to Japanese patients who come with hundreds and millions of dollars.
Today, a brain surgeon came to talk to us about organ transplant. It was his 123rd time to give the talk, and he said he was here to give us some "correct knowledge". He seemed to have some very strong feelings towards doctors who didn't present the option of organ transplant to the patients' families, and towards journalists who critisized that families were often unfairly "urged" to consent under some kind of pressure. These people were being the obstacles in preventing the growth of transplant industry in Japan.
According to him, doctors never "urged" families. A doctor's job is to tell the family that the patient will soon be dead and ask if they would consent to organ donation. I think the point the surgeon wanted to make was that we should all accept that it was natural to be asked about organ donation at times of death -- it is out-of-date to regard this type of "request" as insensitive "exploitation". After all, we're living the age of human recycling.
I do understand at a very logical level, but I was not convinced at all on an emotional level (maybe because he spoke so fast and came on pretty strong). I personally think many families will more or less feel that they are "urged", as some journalists (and lawyers) point out. If you dissent, it's literally the same as being asked if you would save someone's life and saying no. The surgeon said doctors were the same as waiters at Mc Donalds -- they offer cheese burgers and chicken nuggets for customers to choose, while we offer the chance of saving a life or not saving a life, for families to choose. I don't think it's the same at all.
He also said the Japanese were too emotional when it came to the definition of death. Being brain dead means being dead in the context of organ transplant, just like red means stop in the context of traffic lights. I don't think it's the same at all. It's easy to accept the latter; it's much much harder to accept death.
A doctor's job is to save patients -- not only those who are right in front of them, but also those who they haven't met. As the surgeon insisted strongly, Japanese doctors do need to learn to bring this subject up in front of families. However, I think it's also important to realize that some families will, in fact, feel urged or even forced to consent. We have to know that it's not the same as offering burgers and nuggets. And we should acknowledge that we are asking families to think about saving someone they don't even know, when all they can think about is the fact that they are about to lose someone they love. It's obviously important we reassure that families who decide not to consent will not be blamed for "killing" anyone.
Japan is said to have the best skill when it comes to organ transplant and yet we have the worst transplant rate among developed countries. The US still provides 5% of their transplant organs to foreign patients, and the majority goes to Japanese patients who come with hundreds and millions of dollars.
Today, a brain surgeon came to talk to us about organ transplant. It was his 123rd time to give the talk, and he said he was here to give us some "correct knowledge". He seemed to have some very strong feelings towards doctors who didn't present the option of organ transplant to the patients' families, and towards journalists who critisized that families were often unfairly "urged" to consent under some kind of pressure. These people were being the obstacles in preventing the growth of transplant industry in Japan.
According to him, doctors never "urged" families. A doctor's job is to tell the family that the patient will soon be dead and ask if they would consent to organ donation. I think the point the surgeon wanted to make was that we should all accept that it was natural to be asked about organ donation at times of death -- it is out-of-date to regard this type of "request" as insensitive "exploitation". After all, we're living the age of human recycling.
I do understand at a very logical level, but I was not convinced at all on an emotional level (maybe because he spoke so fast and came on pretty strong). I personally think many families will more or less feel that they are "urged", as some journalists (and lawyers) point out. If you dissent, it's literally the same as being asked if you would save someone's life and saying no. The surgeon said doctors were the same as waiters at Mc Donalds -- they offer cheese burgers and chicken nuggets for customers to choose, while we offer the chance of saving a life or not saving a life, for families to choose. I don't think it's the same at all.
He also said the Japanese were too emotional when it came to the definition of death. Being brain dead means being dead in the context of organ transplant, just like red means stop in the context of traffic lights. I don't think it's the same at all. It's easy to accept the latter; it's much much harder to accept death.
A doctor's job is to save patients -- not only those who are right in front of them, but also those who they haven't met. As the surgeon insisted strongly, Japanese doctors do need to learn to bring this subject up in front of families. However, I think it's also important to realize that some families will, in fact, feel urged or even forced to consent. We have to know that it's not the same as offering burgers and nuggets. And we should acknowledge that we are asking families to think about saving someone they don't even know, when all they can think about is the fact that they are about to lose someone they love. It's obviously important we reassure that families who decide not to consent will not be blamed for "killing" anyone.
2014年2月2日日曜日
dream cells
In exchange for making each of us original, genes are unfair. Michael Jackson was born black when he wanted to be white. So technology and plastic surgery helped him get what his genes couldn't. Once when he was still alive, I heard someone joke that he had a set of noses and ears in his closet and would pick one every morning to wear for the day. What if we could do something similar with our organs?
Tissue engineering (or regenerative medicine) seems to be a huge trend these days. In the future, human bodies might be repairable like cars. If your kidney fails, you get a new one made from your own somatic cell. If you need a new liver, you will never have to wait for a doner. If your son is born with a heart disease, you will never have to hope (even for a second) that another child will be brain dead so that he can provide a new heart for your son. One day, you may never have to watch your loved ones die. At least, no nation would have to pay billions of money for dialysis, and therefore, the money can be used to enhance our lives in other ways. It's a technology no one could ever have imagined 100 years ago; it's full of dreams. It's exciting.
And yet, I wonder if we're really heading the right way.
A young Japanese researcher recently published her discovery of a revolutional way of making stems cells from somatic cells by merely exposing them to low-pH (the link is below**). When she first submitted her paper, however, the editor told her that she had mocked the long history of cellular biology. The reason is obvious -- the editor had been soaked in preconception he had formed over many years of editing and researching; he could not believe, or accept that a cell could be reprogrammed with such a simple method.
Steve Jobs said in his famous speech that death was nature's best invention. I agree. Altertion of generations is essential to the progress of human society. The only way the old can give way to the new is to die, or get a new brain with no preconception -- every couple decades, you get a set of new organs along with a new brain for your birthday. Except then, it's not really you. It's just a human with the same set of genes as you. So rather than getting a new brain in a "100 year old" body (with organs of various ages), you might as well be born as a different being with a different set of genes. Then it's called evolution.
Either way, you don't really want a brand new brain. The realistic scenario is probably that you get a set of new neurons that would work along with your old ones so that you can still be you. By the time you reach seventy, you have a brain that still works like when you were twenty (with a lot of unwanted preconception but also with more wisdom) and since you have a twenty year old ovary (and uterus) you have two more babies. But we would never have enough food to feed that many humans, so we would have to set a law saying no more babies after age fifty. And maybe no more organ repairment after age eighty.
Of course, I say all this because I am not in fear of death at this moment. I respect the wishes of people who are dying or suffering from illness. How could I ever blame humans of their ego in such a situation? It's indeed unfair that some people get to live a healthy life up till hundred while some die before reaching twenty. Genes are unfair. Life is unfair. And tissue engineering has the possibility to grant all dreams of people who wish to live a long fulfilling life just like everyone else.
*In case anyone's wondering, it is apparently possible to treat genetic diseases by tissue engineering. As far as I understand, the very basic idea is that you make iPS cells and replace the abnormal genes (that's causing the disease) with normal ones and then transplant them. You can read more about it in papers like:
Science. 2007 Dec 21;318(5858):1920-3
Treatment of sickle cell anemia mouse model with iPS cells generated from autologous skin.
Hanna J, Wernig M, Markoulaki S, Sun CW, Meissner A, Cassady JP, Beard C, Brambrink T, Wu LC, Townes TM, Jaenisch R.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18063756?ordinalpos=4&itool=EntrezSystem2.PEntrez.Pubmed.Pubmed_ResultsPanel.Pubmed_RVDocSum
**Nature 505, 641–647 (30 January 2014) doi:10.1038/nature12968
Received 10 March 2013 Accepted 20 December 2013 Published online 29 January 2014
Stimulus-triggered fate conversion of somatic cells into pluripotency
Haruko Obokata, Teruhiko Wakayama, Yoshiki Sasai, Koji Kojima, Martin P. Vacanti, Hitoshi Niwa, Masayuki Yamato & Charles A. Vacanti
http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v505/n7485/full/nature12968.html
(update: this paper is now being considered of retraction by some co-authors for various reasons)
Tissue engineering (or regenerative medicine) seems to be a huge trend these days. In the future, human bodies might be repairable like cars. If your kidney fails, you get a new one made from your own somatic cell. If you need a new liver, you will never have to wait for a doner. If your son is born with a heart disease, you will never have to hope (even for a second) that another child will be brain dead so that he can provide a new heart for your son. One day, you may never have to watch your loved ones die. At least, no nation would have to pay billions of money for dialysis, and therefore, the money can be used to enhance our lives in other ways. It's a technology no one could ever have imagined 100 years ago; it's full of dreams. It's exciting.
And yet, I wonder if we're really heading the right way.
A young Japanese researcher recently published her discovery of a revolutional way of making stems cells from somatic cells by merely exposing them to low-pH (the link is below**). When she first submitted her paper, however, the editor told her that she had mocked the long history of cellular biology. The reason is obvious -- the editor had been soaked in preconception he had formed over many years of editing and researching; he could not believe, or accept that a cell could be reprogrammed with such a simple method.
Steve Jobs said in his famous speech that death was nature's best invention. I agree. Altertion of generations is essential to the progress of human society. The only way the old can give way to the new is to die, or get a new brain with no preconception -- every couple decades, you get a set of new organs along with a new brain for your birthday. Except then, it's not really you. It's just a human with the same set of genes as you. So rather than getting a new brain in a "100 year old" body (with organs of various ages), you might as well be born as a different being with a different set of genes. Then it's called evolution.
Either way, you don't really want a brand new brain. The realistic scenario is probably that you get a set of new neurons that would work along with your old ones so that you can still be you. By the time you reach seventy, you have a brain that still works like when you were twenty (with a lot of unwanted preconception but also with more wisdom) and since you have a twenty year old ovary (and uterus) you have two more babies. But we would never have enough food to feed that many humans, so we would have to set a law saying no more babies after age fifty. And maybe no more organ repairment after age eighty.
Of course, I say all this because I am not in fear of death at this moment. I respect the wishes of people who are dying or suffering from illness. How could I ever blame humans of their ego in such a situation? It's indeed unfair that some people get to live a healthy life up till hundred while some die before reaching twenty. Genes are unfair. Life is unfair. And tissue engineering has the possibility to grant all dreams of people who wish to live a long fulfilling life just like everyone else.
*In case anyone's wondering, it is apparently possible to treat genetic diseases by tissue engineering. As far as I understand, the very basic idea is that you make iPS cells and replace the abnormal genes (that's causing the disease) with normal ones and then transplant them. You can read more about it in papers like:
Science. 2007 Dec 21;318(5858):1920-3
Treatment of sickle cell anemia mouse model with iPS cells generated from autologous skin.
Hanna J, Wernig M, Markoulaki S, Sun CW, Meissner A, Cassady JP, Beard C, Brambrink T, Wu LC, Townes TM, Jaenisch R.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18063756?ordinalpos=4&itool=EntrezSystem2.PEntrez.Pubmed.Pubmed_ResultsPanel.Pubmed_RVDocSum
**Nature 505, 641–647 (30 January 2014) doi:10.1038/nature12968
Received 10 March 2013 Accepted 20 December 2013 Published online 29 January 2014
Stimulus-triggered fate conversion of somatic cells into pluripotency
Haruko Obokata, Teruhiko Wakayama, Yoshiki Sasai, Koji Kojima, Martin P. Vacanti, Hitoshi Niwa, Masayuki Yamato & Charles A. Vacanti
http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v505/n7485/full/nature12968.html
(update: this paper is now being considered of retraction by some co-authors for various reasons)
2014年1月31日金曜日
lottery
努力することは宝くじを買うことであって、当選することではない
Putting in some efforts is the same as buying a lottery ticket; you never know if you will win
-Takeshi Kitano（北野たけし）
When I was a high school student, I didn't like it when classmates told me they wished they were as smart as me. In my opinion, I was not that smart, or at least it was clear (to me) that their wishes would come true as long as they studied as hard as I did. Back then, I used to think everything depended on effort.
I still believe it's true to some extent. Nothing can be achieved without hard work. But not everything can be achieved through hard work.
Many people say your dreams will come true if you keep pursuing it. Less people point out that that kind of belief can sometimes even be dangerous if that leads you to ignore things that are seemingly unrelated to your dream.
Natsuko Toda, who is probably the most successful translator in the field of subtitles says she always knew her dream (to work with subtitles) may never come true. That was why she accepted every offer she got and did her best every time, even when it was unrelated to what she really wanted to do. When she finally got her first subtitle offer, twenty years had passed, and it was through a job that she would've avoided if she could.
"I think it's important to face the reality while you work on what you like. If you end up getting where you really want to be, that's really lucky, but if you don't, you can still live with a positive attitude," she says.
I wanted to be a writer for a long time -- since the day I got my first A in English class for creative writing. It wasn't just that I was happy with my grade; I had enjoyed my English homework for the first time, and it was nice to know that someone else liked what I liked. Time flew when I was writing; I forgot hunger, I forgot cold.
But I never had the guts to give up everything else and pursue the dream of becoming a professional writer. Partly because you can become a professional writer without giving up everything else. And partly because I feared putting too much effort into writing and dying without accomplishing anything.
It's easy to work hard when you know your efforts will pay off later on. Buying a lottery ticket, on the other hand, takes a lot of courage. But you can never win without buying.
Putting in some efforts is the same as buying a lottery ticket; you never know if you will win
-Takeshi Kitano（北野たけし）
When I was a high school student, I didn't like it when classmates told me they wished they were as smart as me. In my opinion, I was not that smart, or at least it was clear (to me) that their wishes would come true as long as they studied as hard as I did. Back then, I used to think everything depended on effort.
I still believe it's true to some extent. Nothing can be achieved without hard work. But not everything can be achieved through hard work.
Many people say your dreams will come true if you keep pursuing it. Less people point out that that kind of belief can sometimes even be dangerous if that leads you to ignore things that are seemingly unrelated to your dream.
Natsuko Toda, who is probably the most successful translator in the field of subtitles says she always knew her dream (to work with subtitles) may never come true. That was why she accepted every offer she got and did her best every time, even when it was unrelated to what she really wanted to do. When she finally got her first subtitle offer, twenty years had passed, and it was through a job that she would've avoided if she could.
"I think it's important to face the reality while you work on what you like. If you end up getting where you really want to be, that's really lucky, but if you don't, you can still live with a positive attitude," she says.
I wanted to be a writer for a long time -- since the day I got my first A in English class for creative writing. It wasn't just that I was happy with my grade; I had enjoyed my English homework for the first time, and it was nice to know that someone else liked what I liked. Time flew when I was writing; I forgot hunger, I forgot cold.
But I never had the guts to give up everything else and pursue the dream of becoming a professional writer. Partly because you can become a professional writer without giving up everything else. And partly because I feared putting too much effort into writing and dying without accomplishing anything.
It's easy to work hard when you know your efforts will pay off later on. Buying a lottery ticket, on the other hand, takes a lot of courage. But you can never win without buying.
2014年1月13日月曜日
the enlightenment generation
Today is Coming of Age Day in Japan -- a celebration day for young adults turning twenty (this is the age in Japan when you're given legal rights as an adult), and a nice day off for people who aren't twenty.
Apparently, the generation of the new adults are called 悟り世代 (the enlightenment generation) in that they know what it is to be satisfied with (what they have) now （足るを知る）; they don't ask for much, and they are happy with ordinary lives -- never controlled by desires.
Some people, mainly those who lived the age of economic growth after the war have misgivings about the future of Japan when they see "the enlightenment generation". The older generations think the younger ones lack the motivation to bring further prosperity to Japan.
This might be very true. In a way, it's simply sad that these young people have reached enlightenment at their age -- enlightenments are for old people. Young people are supposed to be ambitious; they should stay hungry and foolish. It's shocking that there are less and less Japanese students willing to study abroad. It's sickening that young people are locking themselves up in a warm cocoon. And it does seem like a big problem if they are really losing interest in the rest of the world. Because a country like Japan with so little natural resource can not live on its own, and it's simply sad (again) to lock yourself away from this beautiful world when there's so much left to see.
But is that really a problem?
When the bubble popped in the early 1990s, the Japanese were forced to change their sense of value. Putting too much emphasis on material wealth soon was something to be criticized. Spiritual richness and health of the mind began to matter more. It is no coincidence that the young generation has reached enlightenment at such a young age.
If the enlightenment generation is happy (they should be by definition), and if each individual is truly happy, what is the problem? At least for the time being? Is it so bad that Japan has given up its position as the second economic power?
I don't know much about Bhutan, but they are by no means counted as an economic power (and they have a high divorce rate), and yet it's said that more than 95% of their people are "happy". It's an enlightenment country. And books with titles like "how to learn the way of happiness from Bhutan" sell like bibles in Japan, only to tell us that the Bhutanese think very much like the Japanese enlightenment generation.
So if national prosperity and individual happiness contradict one another (since happy people apparently lack the motivation to make their country richer), which should come first?
Apparently, the generation of the new adults are called 悟り世代 (the enlightenment generation) in that they know what it is to be satisfied with (what they have) now （足るを知る）; they don't ask for much, and they are happy with ordinary lives -- never controlled by desires.
Some people, mainly those who lived the age of economic growth after the war have misgivings about the future of Japan when they see "the enlightenment generation". The older generations think the younger ones lack the motivation to bring further prosperity to Japan.
This might be very true. In a way, it's simply sad that these young people have reached enlightenment at their age -- enlightenments are for old people. Young people are supposed to be ambitious; they should stay hungry and foolish. It's shocking that there are less and less Japanese students willing to study abroad. It's sickening that young people are locking themselves up in a warm cocoon. And it does seem like a big problem if they are really losing interest in the rest of the world. Because a country like Japan with so little natural resource can not live on its own, and it's simply sad (again) to lock yourself away from this beautiful world when there's so much left to see.
But is that really a problem?
When the bubble popped in the early 1990s, the Japanese were forced to change their sense of value. Putting too much emphasis on material wealth soon was something to be criticized. Spiritual richness and health of the mind began to matter more. It is no coincidence that the young generation has reached enlightenment at such a young age.
If the enlightenment generation is happy (they should be by definition), and if each individual is truly happy, what is the problem? At least for the time being? Is it so bad that Japan has given up its position as the second economic power?
I don't know much about Bhutan, but they are by no means counted as an economic power (and they have a high divorce rate), and yet it's said that more than 95% of their people are "happy". It's an enlightenment country. And books with titles like "how to learn the way of happiness from Bhutan" sell like bibles in Japan, only to tell us that the Bhutanese think very much like the Japanese enlightenment generation.
So if national prosperity and individual happiness contradict one another (since happy people apparently lack the motivation to make their country richer), which should come first?
idea
This is an essay on science I found interesting written by Junichiro Hashimoto（橋元淳一郎）:
Science obviously has a practical side. It has brought material wealth into human civilization. The true purpose of science, however, is not the pursuit of material wealth. It is to seek what truly exists, and it derives from the ancient Greek philosophy.
Plato tells us a very intriguing story in his book The Republic: In a long narrow cave, there are some prisoners who have been locked in a pillory since birth. Because of the pillory, they can only see the wall of the cave; they have never seen the world behind their back. Behind them, there is a little stage where a puppet show goes on. Even further behind the stage near the entrance of the cave is a bonfire. The shadows of the puppet reflect on the walls.
The prisoners who have only seen the walls their entire life, believe that the moving shadows are the only existence in the world. To them, the only reality is the shadows. However, if one of the prisoners were unlocked from the pillory and was allowed to look behind, he will see the puppets on the stage and probably be astonished. The scene would be unbelievable to him, but if he hasn't lost his reason, he would realize that what he had believed was reality had only been the shadows of the puppets. He will know that the puppets they could not see up until then was true existence, and that what they always saw had only been an illusion.
After telling us the story, Plato says that the prisoners are nothing but us humans, and that what we see in everyday life is only the shadows of what truly exists.
Plato called this true existence 'idea（イデア）'. He says that idea is never to be seen, but without it, this world (which is its shadows) will not exist. This can never be proved and thus, Plato's idea is nothing but an armchair theory. If you can not prove it, it is not science.
However, to regard that only perceptible or verifiable things are the truth only brings us down to being one of the prisoners locked in a pillory. This universe is not as simple as it seems. It is natural to think that the truth lies beyond human experience and comprehension.
Lately it is said that this world is not three but ten dimentional, which means we can not "see" seven dimentions. It is also said that 96% of space is an unknown existence, namely dark matter and dark energy.
The true purpose of science is not only to explain the mechanism of what we can see, but to unlock the pillory we tend to lock oursleves in without knowing it.
(Translated and edited by me)
Science obviously has a practical side. It has brought material wealth into human civilization. The true purpose of science, however, is not the pursuit of material wealth. It is to seek what truly exists, and it derives from the ancient Greek philosophy.
Plato tells us a very intriguing story in his book The Republic: In a long narrow cave, there are some prisoners who have been locked in a pillory since birth. Because of the pillory, they can only see the wall of the cave; they have never seen the world behind their back. Behind them, there is a little stage where a puppet show goes on. Even further behind the stage near the entrance of the cave is a bonfire. The shadows of the puppet reflect on the walls.
The prisoners who have only seen the walls their entire life, believe that the moving shadows are the only existence in the world. To them, the only reality is the shadows. However, if one of the prisoners were unlocked from the pillory and was allowed to look behind, he will see the puppets on the stage and probably be astonished. The scene would be unbelievable to him, but if he hasn't lost his reason, he would realize that what he had believed was reality had only been the shadows of the puppets. He will know that the puppets they could not see up until then was true existence, and that what they always saw had only been an illusion.
After telling us the story, Plato says that the prisoners are nothing but us humans, and that what we see in everyday life is only the shadows of what truly exists.
Plato called this true existence 'idea（イデア）'. He says that idea is never to be seen, but without it, this world (which is its shadows) will not exist. This can never be proved and thus, Plato's idea is nothing but an armchair theory. If you can not prove it, it is not science.
However, to regard that only perceptible or verifiable things are the truth only brings us down to being one of the prisoners locked in a pillory. This universe is not as simple as it seems. It is natural to think that the truth lies beyond human experience and comprehension.
Lately it is said that this world is not three but ten dimentional, which means we can not "see" seven dimentions. It is also said that 96% of space is an unknown existence, namely dark matter and dark energy.
The true purpose of science is not only to explain the mechanism of what we can see, but to unlock the pillory we tend to lock oursleves in without knowing it.
(Translated and edited by me)
登録:
投稿 (Atom)