"Sunshine" and "The Fountain" – On Spiritualism and Secularism

Sunshine, 2007, directed by Danny Boyle

The Fountain, 2006, directed by Darren Aronofsky

Danny Boyle’s “Sunshine” and Darren Aronofsky’s “The Fountain” are two strikingly spiritual films – the former more surprisingly than the latter – yet the conclusions of either film couldn’t be more different than the initial similarities they share. 

“Sunshine,” released in 2007, revolves a group of scientists above the Icarus II (a rather appropriate allusion the Greek mythology) that is carrying a sizable cargo of nuclear explosives, hoping to reignite a dying sun and ultimately to prevent the end of human existence. “The Fountain,” released in 2006, revolves around a neuroscientist named Tommy who is trying to save his wife Izzi from succumbing to a deadly tumor.

The dynamic of both films rests on the idea of mortality, and on our pursuit of scientific understanding in attempting to delay the inevitability of death. Oddly enough, I found “Sunshine” to be a more spiritually moving film than “The Fountain” despite Aronofsky’s obvious religious allusions throughout the film; likewise, I found the “The Fountain” to be oddly more academic and secular than “Sunshine” despite Boyle’s obvious efforts at creating a feasible, scientifically-sound scenario. 

Spiritually Moving? 

When I say “spiritually moving,” I mean it in a different sense than “religiously moving” in that spiritualism isn’t bound by any religious institution or credence – it is simply an individual experience, and a personal one for the matter.

“Sunshine,” ostensibly a hard science fiction film, places its scientists against the backdrop of a dying sun that is nonetheless awe inspiring and utterly, beautifully elemental. The sun is such an incredible presence throughout Boyle’s backdrop that the experience of simply seeing it becomes almost like a existential ritual for one of the crew members aboard the Icarus II.

“The Fountain” jumps between history, fantasy, and present day, three timelines that are interconnected by the emotional trajectory of Tommy as he copes with mortality. Two of the timelines, the historical and the fantastical, provide a escapist contrast to the bitter, grittier reality that Tommy physically occupies. 

The visual effects in both films cannot be argued against: both tout some of the most fantastic, most awe inspiring landscapes that could possibly exist within cinema. Ironically, “Sunshine” is more successful in evoking a spiritual sensation than “The Fountain” for one simple reason: the specificity of the special effects themselves. 

In “Sunshine,” the primary visual effect was the sun, and the nothingness of the space in between. The sun was simply a massive, incredible tour de force that each of the scientists faced, and in its shadow of space each character reacts differently: some regarded it with fear, some with awe, some with rational, some with despair, and some with hope. Everyone copes with their own moral and existential qualms differently, and after awhile I couldn’t help but be moved by the image of the sun as well. The sun, in its massive, elemental depiction, was something to behold, appreciate, and ponder. 

In “The Fountain,” Aronofsky drew heavily from established religious symbolism that, ironically, actually detracted from the spiritual experience I can only assume he had in mind (this is separate from the emotional experience, which was a rather poignant one). There was less to be interpreted, less to be pondered about (there’s less to interpret about Adam and Eve, the Tree of Life, or passage from Genesis than a blazing, omnipresent sun); the film, with all its immense symbology and mythological-religious allusions, became more academic than spiritual by accident.

Since most of “The Fountain’s” symbology alluded to a previous mythological or religious interpretation, the film is essentially more eclectic than “Sunshine” and thus, ironically, Aronofsky created a less spiritually encompassing film than Boyle did. In fact, you could even argue “The Fountain” was more secular than “Sunshine” in some respects, at least in the academic sense. 

Divergent Conclusions about Science in the Scheme of the Universe

Both “Sunshine” and “The Fountain” pose the same question regarding mortality – to accept it or to overcome it – and both come to different conclusions that are both completely rational and understandable. 

The scientists of Icarus II “Sunshine” are given the task of reigniting the sun in order to save mankind after the Icarus I failed to complete its mission. It turns out that the captain of Icarus I was a extremely religious man that, after 16 months in space, concluded that the mission was sacrilegious (“I am Pinbacker, Commander of the Icarus One. We have abandoned our mission. Our star is dying. All our science. All our hopes, our… our dreams, are foolish! In the face of this, we are dust, nothing more. Unto this dust, we return. When he chooses for us to die, it is not our place to challenge God”) and kills his entire crew to prevent the success of the mission; eventually, he manages to board the Icarus II and attempts to stop the surviving scientists aboard the second mission from accomplishing their goal. Despite all of these setbacks, Icarus II manages to send their cargo of nuclear explosions into the sun, and mankind is saved. 

In “The Fountain,” Tommy goes through several stages of emotional changes as his wife Izzi succumbs and eventually dies from her brain tumor. As a neuroscientist, he works obsessively in his lab to find a cure for brain tumors, at some points even prioritizing work over spending precious remaining time with Izzi. It’s only after she dies and he has a emotional outburst (“Death is a disease, it’s like any other. And there’s a cure. A cure – and I will find it”) that Tommy finally comes to accept the inevitability of death as the ultimate outcome, and that life moves on in some form or another (Tommy plants a seed for a tree to grow upon Izzi’s grave at the very end). 

The conclusions of “Sunshine” and “The Fountain” contrast with one another like night and day, yet they are not at odds with one another. Despite the fact that “Sunshine” asserts that scientific understanding can overcome natural limitations and that “The Fountain” asserts that scientific knowledge will lose out to death, both conclusions about mortality, despite their inherent differences, complement one another. The reason is a simple difference between the emphasis on the collective in “Sunshine” and on the individual in “The Fountain." 

In "Sunshine,” Pinbacker acts in accord with his own belief, and while he has every right to his own beliefs, his actions affect more than himself since humanity is at stake. Pinbacker effectively tries to impose his own views on the rest of humanity, a view that essentially aims to cut off any survival instinct and effort from continuing to exist. The crew of Icarus II, regardless of their own philosophies, place their own individual impulses beneath the task that humanity has given them to perform – a task that reflects the desire of the majority, a desire to continue living. 

In “The Fountain,” Tommy’s efforts will ultimately impact humanity as a collective, but in the present his actions affect only a select few – himself, his colleagues, and Izzi. Death is inescapable, and that we spend a good deal of our lives attempting to delay its onset; however, Tommy initially refuses to believe this fact, and instead relentlessly tries to overcome the limitations of current scientific knowledge in order to cope with something completely out of his control. Izzi, on the other hand, comes to terms with her own demise, and spends her last moments in peace. Eventually, once he comes to terms with his grief, Tommy accepts his own limitations and the odds of life, and finally understands that there will always be a certain random, statistical aspect of life that he cannot control no matter how much knowledge her attains. 

“Sunshine” concludes that the collective desire to survive outweighs the individual qualms, and “The Fountain” concludes that an individual’s mortality is an escapable fact of life. “Sunshine” touts the capacity of scientific pursuit in understanding and overcoming natural limitations, and “The Fountain” reminds us that scientific pursuit has its own limitations as well. Both films are spiritual and secular, though to a degree “Sunshine” succeeds more in creating a spiritual experience while “The Fountain” succeeds more in creating a secular one. Ironic, to say the least. 

Alzheimer's and Algernon

If there was one disease that was truly terrifying from a philosophical perspective, Alzheimer’s is an indisputable contender. Neurodegenerative, the disease slowly but surely robs victims of their dignity, destroying the very essence that years of invaluable experience culminated into. 

Philosophy takes for granted that the human condition cannot meteorite: presumably our minds continue to pulsate and change, and that these pulsations result in our very being – a unique entity within the blistering swarm of the universe. Philosophers took for granted that uniqueness could not somehow be degraded from its essence, that it was an all-or-nothing relationship: existence or death. Yet Alzheimer’s has proven otherwise, manifesting into one of the slowest and cruelest ways of degeneration. Most other diseases eat away at your body, some perhaps resulting in insanity or dementia; Alzheimer’s, however, simply does not destroy you physically, but it must also shed away your personality and mind until nothing is more than sensationless pulp. 

There have been books written and films made about Alzheimer’s – perhaps the most famous and critically acclaimed is Away from Her – but I have always been curious about the sort of despair and devastation a patient feels when the very characteristics that defined them become impossible to act out. Most of the time the patient is unaware of their own degeneration; some know their predicament, and that it is only a matter of time before their own sense of being is really no more. I know families of patients perhaps suffer more than the patient (especially since in the worst stages, they are blissfully ignorant of their state of being), but I do wonder – what on earth is it like to suddenly realize you’re falling down, down and down from a pillar you once proudly stood upon, the pillar which effectively defined your own existence? 

Such is a question beautifully and poignantly explored in the novel Flowers for Algernon. The premise is this: a mouse, called Algernon, successfully undergoes experimental surgery to artificially improve its intelligence. Charlie, a mentally disabled man, volunteers for the treatment in hopes of becoming more intelligent. Charlie’s treatment is also successful, and he becomes exponentially intelligent to the point of outclassing the finest minds in the world. However, Algernon begins deteriorating, and very soon it’s obvious that Charlie will also meet the same fate. 

The book is exceptional not only because of the moral and ethical dilemmas it presents such as treatment of the mentally disabled or how academia interacts, but especially by how it is written and presented. The book’s structure is one of a journal, supposedly maintained by Charlie when he first opts for the treatment all the way to his fantastic intellect and then to the beginnings of his decline, where he eventually stops writing because he is afraid and devastated by the idea of documenting his deterioration any further. 

I can only imagine that perhaps Charlie’s fall from intellectual greatness experience is perhaps analogous to that of an Alzheimer’s patient. For the first time in his life, Charlie exudes a intellect so utterly spectacular, so magnificent that he truly feels a sense of pride in himself. However, the side effects of the experiment kick in, and like the plaque and dying neuron effects of Alzheimer’s Charlie finds himself losing more and more of himself everyday; more horrifying is the prospect of falling from greatness and back into state even more mentally handicapped before, and possibly brain death for the matter. These last journal entries are devastating: the anger, the despair, the desperation, and finally the acceptance – there’s almost a cruel irony that the greatest genius on earth should perish as a vegetable. Understandably, Charlie leaves his journal before he begins documenting in a more degenerated state. This last move is Charlie’s desperate effort to maintain himself somehow, to leave a documentation that chronicles the intelligent Charlie did exist, and while his now handicapped self can still remember such; further recording would only show how this Charlie was replaced by another Charlie, and another, and so on. Denial? Perhaps, but in his situation wouldn’t you opt for the same thing? 

Perhaps a more interesting question to consider is this: is there a certain point where our physical or mental degeneration effectively makes us a completely different person than previous? That is, is our existence an all-or-nothing or gradient? With Alzheimer’s, I feel that the all-or-nothing model fails to account to the nuances and accumulating changes an afflicted individual encounters; many of the earliest symptoms are mistakenly attributed to senility, but as the symptoms become more and more frequent it becomes obvious that something is amiss – and that’s when the diagnosis comes in (interestingly, doctors can only confirm Alzheimer’s by autopsy). By the time a diagnosis is made, it’s only a matter of time until the person you know and love is no longer there, effectively snuffed out of their existential essence and ghost. 

The analogy of Flowers for Algernon to Alzheimer’s is nothing else than my own projecting. I’ve never had relatives or friends afflicted with the disease; the closest experience I had with Alzheimer’s was back in July 2009 when I volunteered at an Alzheimer’s clinic, where I simply kept patients company and interacted with them so they wouldn’t be left all day to watch nothing but television. Yet I still wonder the sort of distress (or lack of) one feels when slowly but surely they become less and less themselves. 

I recently read a Times magazine article titled “Alzheimer’s Unlocked.” Detailing current developments and advances against the disease, the article optimistically stated that with recent medical imaging techniques like advanced MRI machines, doctors and researchers were now able to visualize pieces of anatomy and physiological pathways in the brain that before, were completely out of the question with traditional dissection techniques. The biggest hope is that more avenues of research will open up, and that now we can really see what else we might have missed in researching the disease: traditionally, many believe that plaques formation corresponded to Alzheimer’s development, but to what extent this relation is (direct or indirect) or if there is another (or several other) physiological mechanisms at hand is the more recent question at hand. 

Surprisingly, the article did not state perhaps why Alzheimer’s occurs in the first place, beyond the physical fact that some are genetically predisposed to it. I wonder, though, if the disease itself is perhaps a natural, inherited mechanism to shut down the human body when it begins to seem that our physical forms are no longer reproductively viable or as energetically sustainable – possibly, Alzheimer’s is almost a way of slowly shutting down a physical system that is simply too old. 

This is all theory, of course. The only basis for it is that Alzheimer’s is considered a disease of the elderly, while other diseases like Parkinson’s, Tuberculosis and cancer can afflict anyone at any point in life, and afflictions at birth such as Down Syndrome are the effects of genetics seen immediately. Perhaps Alzheimer’s is just a genetic affliction triggered by the mere physical state of being elderly, and that if certain aspects of the environment trigger chronic stress (a constant firing of the sympathetic nervous system with little chance of the parasympathetic nervous system to balance it out) only accelerate the aging process, Alzheimer’s manifests as a way to simply shut down the now overworked body. 

We may not know for many more years, or very easily a finding could reinforce or completely disprove what I’ve just out here. However, I’m sure we all agree on one thing – that Alzheimer’s unequivocally destroys any sense of being we might have ourselves, ghost and all. 

Recommended Reading

• Flowers for Algernon – Daniel Keyes

• Away from Her – Roger Ebert movie review

• Charly – Roger Ebert movie review

• Away from Her – A.O. Scott movie review

• New Research on Understanding Alzheimer’s – Alice Park of Time Magazine

The Impossible Panacea

One of the things I worry about is the idea that a single technological innovation will save the world from all our troubles. Not too long ago Roger Ebert posted an interesting video about Solar Roadways, a project which essentially replaces all traditional asphalt with solar panels in order to generate and meet energy needs. 

I commented about the potential problems the project might have – from individual circuits within each panel to maintenance and so on – and received a response from another who stated that as a working scientist, they truly believed that solar energy was the only way to go in order to solve the world’s problems from energy to even famine (for some odd reason, our comments are no longer visible, so this recap is purely from memory from over a month ago). 

Hearing comments like these worries me because it entails a myopic understanding of technology and its inner workings. For centuries, humans have aspired towards the one remedy, the one cure, the one anything that would solve all of our problems, and invariably these brilliant innovations had their share of additional, unforeseen problems as well (may of which I’ve previously talked about here). 

Not to say that we shouldn’t be optimistic about human tenacity and innovation, but there’s a need to be realistic as well. These days, I spend my time around too many engineers to not think about how something new might have some issues, and how those issues could (or couldn’t) be resolved with what technology currently allows us to address. 

Say, for instance, the solar road takes off (and I surely hope it does) – what could possibly happen? Given that each panel has complex circuitry, that means that there’s a higher chance for something to wrong by virtue of problems/issues being a function of complexity (for math nerds, we could even write this as FCUK(complexity)*). This also means that road workers will require extra training, which could possibly be more expensive for companies and contractors specializing in road work (or even the government, which would mean tax dollars). One of the nice things regarding asphalt is that road maintenance is relatively easy since it’s a durable-enough material; sure you’ll get the occasional pot holes and fun stuff, but you only need to re-lay asphalt every few years or so. 

To point being is that no single piece of technology or scientific innovation can truly be without its trouble and be 100% guaranteed to completely change how the world turns and functions. In a ideal world, I’d love to agree with the sentiment that solar power can possibly solve at least 95% of the world’s problems somehow. Solar power cars, solar power roof tiles, solar power generators, solar power laptops… the possibilities seem endless, right? 

The only downfall to this is that unfortunately, a subset of the world’s population lives in weather conditions to Seattle, where it rains at least 90% of the year (hyperbole not guaranteed) or likewise areas where the sun doesn’t shine like the golden coast Katy Perry seems to enjoy popping about so much these days. Not to mention infrastructures that may not even allow for nice ol’ contractors to go in and blow up, given cultural sensitivities and sacred buildings and all that jazz. Personally, I don’t think someone would be all too ecstatic that their famine issue might be resolved if you blow up their sacred burial ground for your solar power project. 

The slightly hyperbolized example set aside, we have to be realistic whenever something new comes up, and it is not realistic to say “this ___ will solve all our problems, if only ____!” Everything is a collective, singular components making up the whole and whole producing the singular components, and so on. We can’t realistically proclaim a something will cure everything simply because everything consists of many somethings. Watson Crick’s belief that genetics determine everything ignores all environmental conditions that may bar a prodigy from ever reaching their full potential (or even living long enough for the matter); Raymond Kurzweil, as well as other Singularity movement enthusiasts, believe that a select few of technological geniuses can affect nations without getting into politics at all; and so many other innovators who believed they held the key to solving everything – and I mean everything – with the utter confidence that tomorrow would have few to no problems at all. 

We have to be realistic: problems exist because it is the physical construct of our world, from atoms to electron to energy to mass – there’s no absolute good or bad without the other; that is to say – if we didn’t have problems, how could we know what we had was actually good to begin with? 

Perhaps it’s the human condition to continuously try to overcome limits and barriers that come our way. Pessimists will unrealistically proclaim it’s all pointless; optimists will unrealistically elicit it’ll all be over soon; and pragmatist will acknowledge it’s just another step at a time, towards a different future than what we have at the moment. 

*I really hope a dyslexic child doesn’t read this sentence. 

The Metaphysics and Paradoxes of "Minority Report"

Concerning Possibility 1:

When I ask whether the human failure to predict the future is “epistemological,” I mean simply: does our failure to predict what is to come equate to a failure to know something that is in principle knowable? If this supposition is true, the future is actually a thing already laid out fully formed in some “fourth” dimension, or is at least something all of whose necessary conditions are already fully laid out, so we are merely playing out roles that are constantly bringing it into fruition. The issue in either case is that we humans just do not happen to know this future, because of our lamentable epistemic limitation or “finitude.” Beings who are not finite like us, however, like God, angels, or the pre-cogs in Minority Report, could conceivably have the epistemic equipment—or as Kant might say the “intellectual intuition"—to know it.

Concerning Possibility 2:

The second option raised is a more radical one. It is that our human failure to know the future is ontologically revealing. This failure is not something to be lamented, because it indicates something about the nature of the spatio-temporal universe. What it indicates, quite simply, is that the future is not the kind of thing any creature could ever know, and for the very best reason: namely, because it does not exist as a fully pre-formed set of actualities that could ever be known by anyone or anything.

- Matthew Sharpe, PhD in Is there a Minority Report? or what is Subjectivity?

Minority Report is one of my all-time favorite films for numerous reasons, one of them primarily making me rethink film as a narrative and artistic medium (as well as opening up my love for classic and modern film noir). The premise is this: in 2054 Washington D.C., murder has become a relic of the past thanks to the Precog program, a program which consists of three precogs – children with the ability to predict future murders, homicides and killings – that acts preemptively to prevent would-be killers from committing their crimes. John Anderton (played by Tom Cruise) is the head of the pre-crime unit, leading a routine life until one day, he is preemptively accused of killing a man he has never met. The movie takes off with John trying to prove his own innocence while diving into the truth about the Precog program and the nature of a minority report. 

Minority Report’s premise presents interesting ideas about the ontological paradoxes regarding future predictions – so much so that I felt compelled to write about one of the most fascinating scenes is at the very end (here’s the video link): 

John openly confronts Lamar (the Precog director) about the corruption behind the pre-crime program, bellowing out in rage and fury for everything that has cumulated up until now. The precogs, sensing Lamar’s murderous intent, begin narrating the future yet to unfold, and very closely so to when the actual events are occurring that at one point, John and a precog overlap in what they are saying. This presents some additional paradoxes about the nature of a precog for reasons I will attempt to illustrate here: 

This is a little schematic I drew up to demonstrate how closely the precog’s prediction is in conjunction to the actual event taking place:

• Events (i.e. dialogues) are denoted by letters A through E
• t = 0 is the event occurring during "real-time,” t = +1 is the event being predicted by the precogs, and t = –1 is the event told after fact (which does not apply here)
• ∆y is the time difference between what the precogs predict and when the prediction occurs
• The blue line designates on what time frame (i.e. future or real-time) the precogs narrate what eventually occurs real-time: therefore, the smaller ∆y becomes, the sooner the precog’s prediction comes true; additionally, if ∆y = 0, then the precogs are narrating the events in real-time as they occur (eg. event D)

To better illustrate what I’m trying to get at, here are the events (dialogues) and their corresponding screenshots, and for clarity’s sake overlapping dialogue will be bolded (note: it’s much easier to see what I’m talking about if you watch the video beforehand): 

…

Dialogue A: the precog’s prediction is preemptive before the actual event (Lamar’s and John’s dialogue), as inferred by how the dialogue of the precog and real-time subject (i.e. Agatha and Lamar) do not overlap. 

Precog 1 (Agatha): “Think about all the lives that little girl has saved" 

 

Lamar: ”Think about the lives that little girl saved. Think about all the lives she will save. Let her go. She could have saved Sean.“

John: "Don’t you EVER say his name!!!”

…

Dialogue B: Precog #2 takes over the narrative prediction, which is still preemptive relative to the real-time event (John yelling) taking place. 

Precog #2: “You used the memory of my dead son to set me up”

John: “You USED the memory of my dead son to set me up! That was the ONE thing you knew that would drive me to murder…”

…

Dialogue C: Precog #3 takes over the narrative prediction, which is still preemptive. Note however that ∆y (the time between the prediction and real-time) is shorter, i.e. the cut between the prediction (precog) and event (John). 

Precog #3: “What are you gonna do now, Lamar?”

John: “What are you gonna do now, Lamar?”

…

Dialogue D: This is the most interesting portion of the preemptive narration of the precogs. Here, the precog’s prediction overlaps with the real-time event – that is, both the precog and John say the same line at the same time. This is jarringly different than the nature of the precog’s presented beforehand, which has always been preemptive, and additionally presents another paradox regarding the precogs’ nature (which I will discuss shortly below). 

Precog #3: “How are you gonna – ”

John: “ – shut me up?!”

…

Dialogue E: the precogs revert back from real-time narration to their normal preemptive narration; notably, ∆y is larger than original (unfortunately this is not up to scale in my first schematic) because Lamar and John are not yet together on the patio/rooftop. 

Precog: “Forgive me, John." 

Lamar: "Forigve me, John.”

…

Some may argue that this extends to an argument of pre-destination versus freedom of will, and that our inability to predict the future is a necessary quality: all this and considering what’s presented in Minority Report, I’d say we have for ourselves an interesting case of where narration within the universe – as opposed to the traditional narrative speaking outside of the universe – functions as another unique paradox within the film’s universe; that is, the precogs are simultaneously narrating to us the viewer what is going on and to the people within precrime, and eventually at a small paradoxical point in time the precog is essentially rehearsing what is occurring real-time. Additionally, we can consider how this works from a metaphysics/modern physics POV, and what paradoxes (or impossibilities) arise as a result of the precogs preemptive narrative nature: 

Some notes about this schematic of the future and past light cones: 

• y-axis = time t from event A, x-axis = distance r from event A
• event A occurs at (0,0) 
• 1/c = the limit, derived from rise/run = ∆y/∆x = ∆t/∆r = 1/velocity = 1/speed of light (speed of light notated as c)
• Above x-axis = the future, below the x-axis = the past
• r distance is a function of t time, r(t)

Now, to illustrate what occurs before event A (past light cone) and after event A (future light cone): 

1. The shaded yellow area below the x-axis = all cumulative events leading up to the occurrence of event A
2. Event A occurs
3. At t₁, subject at rᵢ away from event A is affected (r₁ ≤ rᵢ)
4. The shaded dark green area above the x-axis = all events possibly affected by event A up until t₁
5. The light green area above the x-axis = all events possibly affected by event A past (and inclusive of events prior to) t₁
6. All of these events – past and future - demonstrate the core concept of causality: events prior to event A cumulate into the occurrence of event A, and the occurrence of event A affects all possible future events afterwards. 

Some important notes to consider regarding modern physics: 

• The information of event A travels at the speed of light along the limit 1/c
• Light always travels  forward, therefore the information of event A progresses forward as well (aka you cannot jump back to the past light cone once you have crossed the x-axis into the future light cone); by extension, information cannot be “time traveled” backwards
• EVERYTHING is dependent on event A
• EVERYTHING is in the same frame of reference (aka everything occurs during the same relative time)
• r is always less than or equal to rᵢ because nothing travels faster than the speed of light
• 1/c is on both sides of the y-axis because the information of event A travels in opposite and complementary directions (i.e. if I snap my fingers between you and I, the sound of the snap would travel towards me and towards you at the same time) - thus, the light cone shape results on a 2D scale
• The value of 1/c is VERY small, thus indicating that at a given, small interval of time, the information of effect A has traveled much farther with respect to r – that is, for a small about of t, you travel a large amount of r with respect to the limit 1/c that dictates how information of the event traverses forward in time. To scale, t is short and r is large
• Anything that occurs outside the shaded areas of yellow, dark or light green are caused by a different event other than event A

With all of this in mind, we can now see why the precogs, by default of their predicting nature, violate the principle of causality with their Mode of Operation (M.O.): 

1. Before the precogs are stimulated by a murderous vision (event A), they exist before event A takes places, and are as unaware of its possibility as anyone else (they exist below the x-axis at t = -1)
2. Once the precogs are stimulated by the murderous vision (event A), they essentially jump towards the future where event A has already occurred (they experience above the x-axis at t = +1) and learn of the information regarding event A
3. The precogs then jump back below the x-axis back to the past light cone from the future light cone to pre-event A, yet still remember the information they retained from post-event A and are now able to narrate the occurrence of event A
4. During the unique event D, the precog narrates what’s occurring real time (they are at t = 0), yet continue to violate causality since they are at a r distance away from event D, which occurs at t=0, r=0 - that is, how the precogs are perceiving the event is occurring faster than the speed of light c 

This presents a lot of paradoxes and problems within the realm of modern physics since accordingly, you cannot know of an event’s occurrence until after the event has occurred by virtue of light (and by extension information) progressing forward only: to predict the future is to essentially “time travel” from before to after and then back to before the event occurs and retain information, which would mean you made information “progress backwards” - which is impossible from what we currently understand with modern physics. 

The precogs essentially violate the nature of causality by their own preemptive nature, which adds another interesting question of whether or not they included themselves in the occurrence (or not) of event A: 

The acknowledgment of this evident paradox raises what is decisive in terms of our trying to decide the philosophical issue of freedom-necessity raised by the film, both within it and “for ourselves.” It shows that each of the pre-cogs’ predictions in Minority Report represents a phenomenon exactly akin to Bertrand Russell’s famousparadoxical list. As you may know, this is a list that aspires to list all the lists that have ever existed that did notinclude themselves in what they inventoried. As Russell reasoned, when we try to think about such a list, and specifically about whether it might ever be completable, we soon run into an aporia.

– Matthew Sharpe

Based on the metaphysical extrapolation of the precogs functions, they are essentially entities that are within and external to progression of time within the universe of Minority Report yet still adhere to the same frame of reference relative to the same universe: they can predict an accurate future without including themselves as a cumulative effect into whether or not effect A occurs, yet at the same time are very much embedded within the past light cone that filters into effect A even occurring all. By nature, they are the perfect paradox that breaks any “rule” or “limit” of modern (but not theoretical) physics: they’re both humans and Gods, effectively. 

The precogs really present a inherent paradox to the metaphysics of accurate prediction, and whether or not the ontological paradox really exists if the precogs do not factor themselves as entities also cumulating into the occurrence (or not) of any given event – all of which makes Minority Report a fascinating film to consider from a metaphysical, philosophical and narrative POV. 

*Note: I learned ALL of the (meta)physics after two hours of consulting from a nuclear engineer and previous knowledge. All qualms with my mistakes should be shot at me, slingshots and all. 

Two hours were spent on this whiteboard as I (re)learned aspects of light cones, special relativity, and the limits of light, time and information progression. 

Icarus and his Copycats

It’s nice to think that in the history of the universe in the greatest probably likelihood there have been at least 100,000 other civilizations just as advanced as ours who were just as utterly convinced of their importance in the universe right up until the moment when they stopped existing – Viet Le 

I recently read an article titled Merely Human? That’s So Yesterday by Ashlee Vance of the New York Times. It’s a long piece, detailing the Singularity movement spearheaded by the likes of Silicon Valley, Google, Microsoft, NASA, and other technology entrepreneurs. In particular, there was a lengthy discussion of Mr. Raymond Kurzweil, a American inventor and futurist who in his own words, believes “we will transcend all the limitations of our biology” through singularity, for “that is what it means to be human – to extend who we are.” He and likewise others believe that technological ingenuity has the potential to solve worldwide problems, that they can create the greatest reset button in the history of mankind. And after I finished reading, all I could think of was this: 

Hadn’t I heard this before? 

My mind revved back and toggling through past history lessons, I remembered again and again similar declarations made by proud men who strut forth their innovations and said “ha-HA! This will solve society’s problems! Now we will have a greater and brighter future because of ___ !” It’s like a broken record, except each repetition is a slight variation of the previous motif: 

• Hunter gatherers diverged from nomadic life after farming and agriculture was developed for more sustainable and constant food supplies – then came the problem of irrigation and creating set communities, eventually societies that were dependent on their existing environment and paving the way to economics of trade and monetary values…

• Railroads, factories, streetcars and automobiles of the Industrial revolution developed for increased transportation, mobility and efficiency – then came social and health problems with smoke, fumes, barriers of old infrastructure and unregulated labor and production, and markedly establishes the origin of human dependence on natural carbon sources for engine combustion, petroleum, and the origins of rampant consumerism…

• Einstein postulates the theory of relativity, setting the basis for nuclear energy and the possibilities for alternative energy and other technology advancements – then WWII happens and Truman orders “Little Boy” on Hiroshima and “Fat Man” on Nagasaki, staining history with the devastations of radiation poisoning and the threat of nuclear weaponry…

• Penicillin is widely used during WWII and changes medical history, as doctors now have a remedy for bacterial infections that were previously painful or even fatal – then overuse and overprescription of antibiotics results in bacterial antibiotic resistance, causing scientists to constantly come up with new antibiotics while bacteria continue to exponentially gain resistance due to horizontal gene transfer…

• Genetically modified organisms (GMOs) take off, creating hardier crops and animal products that are more sustainable in certain areas that traditionally would not cultivate or encourage such production, thus increasing the food supply in lacking areas – then came the problem of natural selection favoring stronger GMOs over other unmodified species, resulting in extinction of plant species if respective GMO breakouts accidentally occurred…

• Plastic surgery is developed to reconstruct and correct form and function of the human body that results from birth defects or injury – then public demand for cosmetic enhancement sky rockets after numerous Hollywood stars open up about their respective procedures, ultimately resulting in multiple botched surgeries, a surge in black market procedures and advents going overseas for cheaper and/or unregulated enhancements…

Kurzweil’s and Singularity’s assumptions are all too familiar, sharing the same aspirational notion that all previous developments envisioned. The problem however is not in his vision – for it is surely a grand and futurist one – but in how he perceives the world and how it operates – and that he truly believes that “ultimately, the entire universe will become saturated with our intelligence, [for] this is the destiny of the universe." 

People will be people. Social, cultural, economic, religious and historical differences will always apply, and these may encourage or discourage the advancements that Singularity advocates. Yes, perhaps there is a possibility that with technology, we could live to be 700 years old – but for people who believe in the sacredness of the natural body, is this something they could ever endorse? How about the quality of life that goes with it? Will this development sustain in the course of change we cannot foresee? 

Additionally, there’s the economics and politics that will invariably carve and shape how Kurzweil’s and his colleague’s vision to manifest: as libertarian as they may be, singularity advocates are still operating within a society, and invariably their developments will have major effects on the societal and cultural establishments. Maintaining a sort of purity to their idea is unrealistic if they are unwilling to communicate effectively with the public they hope to help; compromise isn’t necessarily going to happen if developers play their cards right and fully understand what they’re dealing with. 

The singularity mentality is similar (if not identical) to that of James D. Watson, one of co-discoverers of DNA’s helical structure. Specifically, Watson believes that genetic engineering is the way to curing all of mankind’s problems – that in selecting genes for "intelligence” and “beauty,” humans can develop into improved beings after eliminating genetic diseases, “stupidity” and “ugliness” from the gene pool. 

What Watson and Kurzweil share is a strong belief that their way of thought could universally mend all of humanity’s problems – all without accounting differences in social infrastructures and cultural values across the globe. Who is to say what “intelligence” or “beauty” really are? And who is to say we could ever achieve complete and utter control and understanding of how the universe operates? 

No matter how many times you save the world, it always manages to get back in jeopardy again. Sometimes I just want it to stay saved! You know, for a little bit? I feel like the maid; I just cleaned up this mess! Can we keep it clean for… for ten minutes! – Mr. Incredible in “The Incredibles,” 2004. 

I am, of course, a skeptic of anyone who believes their vision creates a more perfected future. Countless times people have declared victory, proclaiming that the world’s problems seem to finally be under control – all until a new set of problems popped right back up in our unsuspecting faces, and then the cycle continues all over again. 

So assuming Kurzweil’s vision comes to life (and I have no doubts a good number of his ideas could easily come to fruition), I am rest assured there will be associated social, cultural, and/or political issues that spring forth like the woes of Hamlet. 

• Growing of viable transplant organs: human life can be extended, but there’s a good chance such viability could be privatized and prone to inflation and being exclusive only to those who can afford such. 

• Cement-like goop that allows builders to erect an entire house: labor costs go down, but construction workers lose their jobs and now you’ve got a subset of the population out of work. 

• Nanoscale machines injected into our bodies to constantly repair cells and their respective functions: we can now theoretically live to 700 hundred years old, but what are the implications for consummation, and more importantly how do we know if future technological development will render nano machines as obsolete or worse, exploitative and futile? 

These are just some hypothesis as to what could happen should the exceptionally optimistic visions of Singularitarians come to life. I am in no position to discount their possibility, but I thoroughly believe that a holistic understanding as to the limits of control is necessary whenever one attempts to remedy and tackle worldwide problems.  Social, cultural, political and historical considerations are equally as important as one’s understanding of science, engineering, medicine and technology, and vice versa. 

We are a sentient and cognitive species – that is for certain. And though we may continuously strive towards the ultimates of truth and knowledge we are still subject to the universe and its very foundations. These are our innate limits – of our own construction and of the universe’s governing rules – that will continue to perpetuate strives towards greatness and problems that arise from such pursuits. 

Though I am curious to see if the meaning of life really is 4.