Keep My Words

It was Sunday night.  Rona and I hadn’t been to Saint Jerome in two weeks, and we hadn’t seen each other in almost that long.

“The Jameson here goes down like water,” Rona commented.

“Like I wrote in that blog,” I said, “the whiskey just tastes better at Saint Jerome.”

We had two hours to catch up before the DJ started.  “When I’m 80, I’m shaving my head,” Rona told me.  “Anything goes when you’re 80.”

The statement made me smile.  “What else are you going to do when you’re 80?” I asked her.

“Eat bacon cheeseburgers,” she replied.  “And smoke like a chimney.  And maybe I’ll put whiskey in my cereal every morning.  And fly everywhere.”  (Rona and I share a similar fear of air travel.)

I remember many of these Sunday night pre-dancing talks.  Once Rona told me that it was always her dream to be a breakdancer.  I agreed, as I have always been fascinated with breakdancing.  In fact, when traveling New York City’s subway system, there are two things that I will always stop and watch (given I have the time): breakdancers and doo-wop singing groups.

Another time we discussed how someone told Rona that she (Rona) is a simple woman.  “You’re like Occam’s razor!” I said.

Occam’s razor is a principle dating back to the 14th-century.  It can be phrased in two ways: (1) entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity, or (2) plurality should not be posited without necessity.  In other words: between two competing theories, the simpler one is the better one.

The razor is suggesting that we do not over-complicate things when trying to understand them.  We need to simplify; we need to be like Rona.

Per the Skeptic’s Dictionary:

What is known as Occam’s razor was a common principle in medieval philosophy and was not originated by [medieval English philosopher and Franciscan monk] William [of Ockham], but because of his frequent usage of the principle, his name has become indelibly attached to it. It is unlikely that William would appreciate what some of us have done in his name. For example, atheists often apply Occam’s razor in arguing against the existence of God on the grounds that God is an unnecessary hypothesis. We can explain everything without assuming the extra metaphysical baggage of a Divine Being.

However, it goes on to say:

Because Occam’s razor is sometimes called the principle of simplicity some creationists have argued that Occam’s razor can be used to support creationism over evolution. After all, having God create everything is much simpler than evolution, which is a very complex mechanism.

But that explanation supposes that God exists, and we have no empirical evidence, meaning information gathered through the five senses, that he does.  The razor implies that simple explanations come from evidence we already know to be true, i.e. empirical evidence.

As a Franciscan monk, Occam took very seriously his vow of poverty.  He lived using only what was absolutely necessary.  It is possible that this form of simplicity is what caused Occam to transform this already-established principle into something that was easily understood by people.

Coincidentally, as Rona is Greek, the idea is actually attributed to Greek philosopher Aristotle.  His idea was that perfection equals simplicity, and vice versa.  Aristotle was known for the phrase, “The more perfect a nature is, the fewer means it requires for its operation.”

A lovely explanation of Occam’s razor can be found at HowStuffWorks.com, a website from the same people who bring the Discovery Channel to those lucky enough to be able to afford cable.

[Occam’s razor] fits perfectly with the scientific method — the series of steps scientists take to prove or disprove something… But be careful when approaching the razor — for such a brief statement, it has an uncanny ability to be stretched or bent to fit all sorts of ideas. It’s important to remember that Occam’s razor proves nothing. It serves instead as a heuristic device — a guide or a suggestion — that states that when given two explanations for the same thing, the simpler one is usually the correct one.

Here’s a classic example of the use of Occam’s razor. A pair of physicists — Lorentz and Einstein — both concluded mathematically that things tend to go a little wonky within the space-time continuum. For example, the closer we get to moving at the speed of light, the more we slow down.

While both arrived at the same results from their equations, Einstein and Lorentz had different explanations for them. Lorentz said that it was because of changes that take place in the “the ether.” The problem is science doesn’t hold that “the ether” exists — and therefore introduces a problematic element of the equation. Einstein’s explanation used no references to the ether, and therefore, his explanation eventually won out over Lorentz’s.

The trouble with Occam’s razor is that what constitutes simplicity is subjective.  Humanity is emotional.  We more often than not base things on inner experience rather than fact.

I don’t know why humanity exists.  I barely know what existence means.  I don’t know why two people like each other or what causes the attraction when they gravitate towards one another.  I don’t know how some people go through life with a blind contentment never wondering about anything.  I don’t know why…

Maybe the Tralfamadorians were right; maybe we are just trapped in the amber of this moment.  There is no why.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 19th, 2010 at 8:53 pm and is filed under Words. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.