I made a resolution earlier this year to post smaller updates more frequently, to keep myself expressing myself in public. I haven't done a good job of this in the last couple of months, but am also keenly aware that Google has kept the contents of this blog in its sandbox for the last 5 years and refuses to index most of the entries on this site. Hence, I've become more cognizant of the fact that efforts spent writing on here are going into the proverbial bitbucket. The half a dozen or so people reading this probably don't need daily updates from me. So it goes.

From an epistemological point of view, let's break the work up into two parts: that of establishable, observable facts, and that of more murky topics that are impossible to prove.

In the first part, there are some things we can establish according to basic accepted constructs about reality. The sky is of a hue that we call blue. There is a number 1, and if you add it to itself, you get a second number 2. And so on. You can get philosophically difficult and dispute the premises of these claims, thereby challenging the claims themselves. If you go that route, have fun. Just leave me the f*ck out of it.

In the second part, there are claims which can be argued endlessly, but the truth of which is murky and impossible to prove with absolution. Perfect example: as long as our modern civilization has existed, there have been people who claim that civilization is in decline and/or about to come crashing down. Eventually a generation of people, or a group within a generation, will be vindicated in their beliefs in this regard. Until that happens, the reality of the decline of civilization is something that can only be debated, and cannot definitively established, conclusively, with evidence.

This is not a post about religion, but, as I so often do, I'm going to use that particular subject as a means of making an ancillary point, due to that subject's universality.

I have a distant family member who has attempted to convince me that Calvinism and its tenets are the one truly correct interpretation of Christianity. I can't possibly do justice to Calvinism in a sentence or two, but it boils down to the doctrine of election, or something more broadly referred to as predestination. Whether you go to heaven or hell after you die is decided by God prior to your ever being born. There is nothing you can do, say, believe, etc, in your lifetime that will alter this particular outcome. You might choose to live a sinful life, but the Holy Spirit may come upon you and save you on your deathbed. You may live a righteous life, but it turns out that salvation just wasn't in the cards for you.

Now, if you happen to be a Christian and you're shopping for a theology you can subscribe to, is this the "correct" one? I have no idea. I certainly cannot say that it is not true. It could very well be exactly the way the world has been planned out by God. This is one of those things that cannot be definitely proven.

Politically, I self-identify as a centrist, meaning that I happily pick and choose perspectives from both sides of the political spectrum as they resonate with me. I'm not a Libertarian, but one idea I take from Libertarianism is the idea of personal responsibility. While there are societal injustices that need remedying, at a systemic level, I believe one should live with a focus on the things that one can control. You make the best play you possibly can, given the hand that you have been dealt. (If COVID has taught us nothing else, it's that pure Libertarian philosophy is at best incomplete, because we've all come to understand that no person is an island.)

So, is Calvinism "true"? I cannot say. What I can say is that I would never choose to live my life as though it were true. To say that your ultimate fate is entirely outside of your own hands is to abdicate all responsibility that you have for your existence.

To me, this is untenable. One cannot prove Calvinism as the One True Doctrine, so there is no reason to favor this particular interpretation over any of its alternatives. My rejection of it is therefore consequentialist. The actions that generally follow from believing you cannot control your destiny are irresponsible ones. I could not, in good conscience, raise my (hypothetical) children to believe such a thing because it's too easy to use its creeds to dodge being accountable for what you do in life.

Where ambiguity reigns, where definitive proof of one idea over another is effectively impossible, there one has the option to select beliefs based on their implications. Is civilization in decline? Is the United States politically corrupt beyond all redemption, with fraudulent elections and authoritarian leaders instilled under the guise of democracy? Did the government have something to do with the attacks of 9/11? Is the country economically on its way to being a second- or third-world country, due to a decades-long procession of short-sighted decisions of our business leaders?

Maybe so. Perhaps all of the above are true. (I don't happen to think so.) But, even if they were all true, I do not care. I would never choose to live my life acting as if any of them are true. This has more to do with the implications of focus of attention than truth. I refuse to install the malware of learned helplessness onto my brain's spinning disks. Nor do I see any benefit of trying to ingrain these ideas into others.

This is, naturally, not anything resembling a new idea. Camus opened his Myth of Sisyphus with: "There is only one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Deciding whether your own life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy." Perception is reality. Hence it is within our power to choose our reality, and the reality we share with others. Proceed mindfully.