In the 11th century, the philosopher Al-Ghazali, while searching for certain truth, argued that he couldn’t be sure his senses were reliable, because we can be dreaming without realizing it. Reasoning led him to this conclusion, but it also led to a spiritual and intellectual crisis: his reasoning could not justify why reason itself should be trusted. After months of crisis, he had a mystical experience in which, according to him, God showed him the truth. He concluded that there is a higher realm of judgment, inaccessible to us in ordinary life, which can judge reason.

Centuries later, Descartes began a similar search. He set out to rebuild his understanding of the world from the ground up, rejecting any belief that could possibly be doubted. His method led him to discard even mathematics. He ended up with the conclusion that because he thinks, he must exist. This became his foundation: his own existence is the one truth that cannot be doubted.

Both philosophers start by doubting what we normally trust, but they end in different places: Descartes in a certainty he sees at once, Al-Ghazali in a mystical experience. 

In public life, including science, law, and universities, we accept beliefs that can be checked by argument or evidence, and we distrust ‘my intuition told me’ . One could argue reason-based epistemic framework has brought scientific progress. But there are issues arising from this framework. Nowadays, if someone asks how you know a fact and you answer “my intuition told me,” people won’t take you seriously. My point is: reason cannot justify everything, so sometimes intuition or direct experience may be a better source of justification.

Imagine someone presents you with a structured, step-by-step argument for why we should physically hurt people for fun. The premises look reasonable and the logic seems valid, but you are far more certain that the conclusion is wrong. You reject the argument, and rightly so. You don’t reject it because you found a flaw. You reject it because you are more sure the conclusion is wrong than that every premise is right. In this case, intuition is the better judge. So, refusing to acknowledge intuition as a valid mode of knowing leaves us vulnerable to hyper-rationalized absurdities, where any well-packaged argument must be accepted simply because we cannot immediately spot its logical trick or give a stronger counterargument.

However, moral intuition is the easy case. Mystical experience is the harder and more controversial one. Simply calling it “intuition” makes it too abstract. William James describes mystical experience as having a “noetic” quality: it feels like knowing, not just feeling. People who have them often report that they were deeply and lastingly changed. If an experience feels like knowledge to the person and transforms their life, it is hard to say they have no justification at all.

Perhaps mystical knowledge is problematic for social epistemology: when I ask others to accept a claim, they have no way to check it, challenge it, or hold me accountable if it comes from a private experience. This is a fair limit on what society can use as a basis for shared decisions. But that is a question about what can be publicly verified, not about whether a belief can be justified for the person who has it. Some scientific discoveries arrive as a sudden, complete insight, and scientists then write them up as “I assumed this, tested that, got this result” because that is the form others accept. The discovery was written backwards. Eureka insights become public knowledge once they are proven. If a mystical insight can be stated in a form others can test, it can follow the same path. Those that can’t be tested remain private convictions, which is the limit William James admits.

So here is my question: Can a person sometimes know something through an experience they can’t explain or prove to anyone else? 

The metaphysical version of correspondence theory can be stated as so: “A proposition is true if and only if reality is as the proposition represents it to be.”

The problem here is that mental representations ordinarily don’t represent things in reality very accurately.

Let’s grant that they can represent them enough. To what extent is this representation counted as enough?

When a coin is flipped in the air, there are just two possible outcomes. If you were to know every exact data, like the force of the spin, the weight of the coin, distance travel, etc, you can know the outcome before it happens.

Now, using this logic:

An observer possessing complete knowledge of the universe, at any given time in a truly infinite universe, could predict the exact future for an infinite amount of time. In the present, a quantum computer is programmed to choose randomly between two numbers, one or two. Based on the response, a scientist will write down the number on a piece of paper.

Could the observer know what number will be written down?

He doesn't even need to, he just calculates two different outcomes.

So it is still predetermined.

But what if there is an infinity of numbers? In that case, we can assume that the universe is vaguely predetermined.

PS: Valid paradox if a quantum computer truly uses no algorythm when choosing the number. On the contrary, it means that everything is predetermined.

Conclusion: If the universe does not have true randomness, it means that it's completely predetermined.

PS #2: I thought about this before finding out about "Laplace's demon".

PS #3: The reason I made this post, and the reason that makes me not respond to comments, is to firstly see if anyone like minded would reply, and to rezerve my thought on the internet, this post beeing the proof I may need in the future, and I am not responding because it would take too long to further explain myself on my thought process.

as someone who is typically called a nice person or that i have a good heart sometimes i feel like it’s not true completely, only in the outcome.

when i am kind to people it makes me feel good, when i am a good friend it provides me with long term friendships, when i am helpful and productive it improves my own life.

its clear to me as well when i try to help people shift their mind off a negative thought or something unproductive, it helps to point out that its only going to affect themselves in the end.

im not sure if this is a philosophical take but i didnt know where else to post it. sometimes it makes me think maybe im deeply selfish, and maybe all people are. but a less cynical take could be that it’s interesting how intertwined what’s good for your self and what is good for others can be.

every word contains all the universe in negative, by putting one word out in the world, a reality is created where everything that is not what the word is, does not exist.

the concept of communication is poisoned from the start, as to communicate, one must divide the world into "what is" and "what is not" and as such, the crossover between these limits is a hard contrast, things are only the things they are and nothing else

but the correct view is that there is not a thing that does not contains all other things

only something that exists in the vacuum of nothingness would possibly be its own singular thing, and as far as our squishy wet sponge existence can appreciate, that is not a possibility

then the entire act of putting one word after another is just a pathetic battle against reality, by definying more and more what it is that is being communicated, more words are used and more division of existence are created like a sword cutting thousand times

there is no escape of the harm of words

only the silent observation can possibly aprehend the actual real gut-wrenching sorting of things, which not cut through the word, can unite into a total awareness of meaning and its specific continuous make

but thats not here

here there are only words

and words are the enemy

First philosophy writing (I don't know what else to really call it) and I hope y'all think it's interesting 👀

. . .

You will never fully comprehend the complexities of our Universe, no matter how long or hard you work. There are so many layers to every quark, atom, and electron that it is not possible to see every single detail about anything.
My years of thought on this subject has brought me to a difficult realization: everything is too complex. Our creator, our creations, our possessions–they are nothing we could ever understand. The layers run deep–deeper than any human will ever be able to comprehend. Every rock, human, and blade of grass is made up of something similar to that of a small string–one smaller than the eye can see–that tangles with itself infinitely. These complexities living among one another create more strings, tangling with the next object in a largely different way. The sets of string intertwine, adding more infinites to the already infinite number of layers. 
Humanity is stuck in something I like to call “Humanity’s Box.” This is where all of humanity is held. We can look all we want; We can analyze, study, and invent, but we will never be able to see outside of our Box. Humanity will never see what holds this Box and see the infinite Universe outside of it. Some may say, “We have advanced so much, reaching so far away from our planet, so how come we cannot break out of this Box?” To answer that question, I respond with the idea of Humanity’s Box not being us trapped inside or outside the Universe–it is the idea that we will never be able to fully grasp everything. We can expand the box, look deeper and deeper into the complexities of something, but we can never fully leave that box.
A billion years from now–if humans had some way to live until then–people will be able to understand numerous other layers that make up every physicality. However, no one will ever be able to reach infinity and break free from Humanity’s Box. What others render a concept, I consider a reality. The Universe is infinite; that is a fact. And, if our Universe is something without end, who is to say the makeup of it cannot have the same level of complexity? I also do not speak of this complexity with zero backing behind it.
If you look at another person, you’ll see someone who has changed drastically. Their eyes may have changed color, their interests may have changed, the way they talk may have changed. This is the proof of our Universe’s infinite complexity. This is proof the Universe cannot even understand itself due to its own complexity, similar to how no human can understand themself. It tries to figure out and remember every small detail, but it misses small ones. So it makes everything that makes everything branch out into different paths that were never there before. Then, it begins to fill the small gaps between the branches, creating different ideas you may have never even thought of before–sometimes with things you don’t even think of now.
You see, you were born without a full consciousness at your birth, but due to the Universe’s slight change in details, you have grown into someone with an infinite amount of branches. You like this action; you dislike this feeling; you love this person. You are made up of different complex branches with ever so slight changes that begin to shape you into a new being. This new being is who you are now. You are proof of infinity.
Some may disagree with my views, but that cannot be seen as a sign of stupidity. That disagreement is another proof you have made–the proof of the infinitely tied strings not being one and the same. You show the Universe that you are not one of God’s, Allah's, or some other omnipotent being’s creations–you are one of the infinite creations of the Universe. And, due to your creation coming from an infinite, you, yourself, are infinite as well. 
However, infinite does not mean invincible. You may die, you may feel pain, you may feel emotions, but you are still infinite. When this Universe eventually begins to collapse, it will revert to its original form, breaking everything inside it into nothingness. It does not stay this way forever, though. It will repeat itself. It will break from its dense form of nothing, and it will expand, reforming our concept of time and eventually creating the place we call Earth. There, your great grandparents will someday be created again, leading to your grandparents, then parents, then, eventually, you. It will keep happening over and over… for an infinite amount of time. You will follow the edge of the lemniscate until the end of this current time, but you will never find an end.
Now to wrap things up, I would like to mention one last thing: I am no god. I am no Universe. I am no Higher Being. I am you. And you are me. Because, in the grand scheme of things, every string ends up coming around; it intertwines with every other string–every rock, every human, and every blade of grass–you intertwine with yourself, the ones you love, and the ones you hate. We are not alone; we are one. We are not different; we are the same. We are not finite; we are infinite.

I've been thinking about how extraordinarily complicated human existence has become compared to that of other animals, and whether any of that added complexity actually makes our lives fundamentally more significant.

Humans have developed civilizations, economies, governments, religions, technology, philosophy, and elaborate ideas about success and purpose.

But when we break much of this down to its basic functions, we're still organisms navigating our environments, pursuing interests, forming relationships, acquiring resources, avoiding threats, reproducing, and eventually dying.

Other animals do many of these things as well, sometimes through surprisingly sophisticated behaviors of their own.

I'm not suggesting that human intelligence and civilization are meaningless, or that our differences from other animals are insignificant. Those differences are real, and some are enormous. I'm questioning whether greater sophistication actually establishes greater fundamental worth, rather than simply producing different and more elaborate ways of living.

Consider a hypothetical alien civilization.

Imagine discovering beings millions of years ahead of humanity. Their intelligence, technology, culture, and understanding of existence surpass ours to an extent we can barely comprehend.

Would their existence be fundamentally more important or valuable than ours simply because they're more advanced?

If not, why would our greater sophistication establish that our existence is fundamentally more important than that of other animals?

And if the answer is yes, what exactly makes greater intelligence or complexity translate into greater intrinsic worth?

I'm also interested in distinguishing between things mattering to a living being, things mattering to others, and the stronger claim that a life possesses greater worth independently of anyone's evaluations.

My suspicion is that humans may be mistaking the extraordinary complexity of our lives for evidence of some greater fundamental significance. But I'm interested in whether there's a defensible philosophical argument connecting the two.

What, if anything, justifies moving from "this being is more sophisticated" to "this being's existence is fundamentally more significant"?

There are two types of worth
Self worth is an inner belief of our value.

How well do you love yourself?
The more you love yourself,
the clearer your reflection becomes.

Your inner belief is your right.
It comes with job of being human

As your self worth strengthens,
Your concept of worth and value will become unique,
which will change your perception of humanity.
As your reflection becomes clearer,
You see yourself in humanity.
And humanity in yourself.
You will love humanity as you love yourself.

Shared worth divides a community’s worth.
Members with low self-worth receive a boost, survival,
Share worth is a defense mechanism,
As the lowest common denominator in the group
creates the baseline of worth from the entire group.

Members with an abundance,
normally adults,
Same as or similar to empathy

I was reading Descarte and he said that we depend on a perfect being to exist, that is to say nothing cannot exist from nothing and needs something to exist. That means everything exists from something (that is perfect).

So my question would be, what is everything? Doesn't 'everything' means it includes every possible outcomes and scenarios, that is to say it also contains 'nothing'. What is the concept of nothing that makes it different or opposed to everything?

I'm a casually reader and is having difficulties understanding the 4th discourse, I'd like to ask for someone more knowledge to help me understand this as if I'm a 10 yrs old.

From the perspective of dialectics, contradiction is an inherent driving force of development. Yet the continual emergence of new contradictions suggests that humanity may never be able to establish an absolutely perfect society or state, entirely free of conflict and imperfection.

If this is the case, where is the continuous development of human society ultimately leading? If we can never attain a final, ideal state, what is the meaning of historical progress? Furthermore, if perfection can exist only as an ideal that remains forever beyond our reach, what value lies in humanity’s persistent efforts to transform society and pursue progress? If the destination can never be reached, what, then, is the meaning of the journey?

Consider mathematics. It is numbers and structure, and it was invented by a man, then expanded from that origin. Theorems, formulae, and algorithms have since been built upon it, with infinitely more possibilities yet to be explored. Yet mathematics had a beginning. It started with us.

Sex, by contrast, is something closer to a root of existence. Biology ensures attraction between opposite genders, and pleasure is derived in order to reproduce. This is an innate form of human biology existing independent of us. It never began or ended. It is root in its form.

The same cannot be said about mathematics. What if the first people who invented it had done so differently, or had not done so at all, and it had never been discovered? What would follow? All of the abstraction that now occupies so much concern would simply not exist, because it is entirely man-made.

Or is some form of mathematics truly rooted in nature, since it did advance the understanding of the world? Even so, had it been invented or discovered differently, understanding might differ, and so might the inventions built on it. Or the same inventions might be built upon a new version of mathematics, or perhaps something else altogether.

So if mathematics, that which is considered divine and absolute, is itself an abstraction, then everything else must be questioned: morals, philosophy, science, language, and the rest. All of these are forms of abstraction. Frameworks of the absolute have somehow been developed around them. Definitive codes of morality have been written in holy books; science that revealed the laws of the universe has ironically been built upon this same mathematics; languages that we have created are now the foundation of governance and law bearing real consequence. Yet, within the framework of the accepted abstract, a reality was constructed that enabled the understanding of the universe and the pursuit of innovation that made real impact.

All of this man-made abstraction can serve as a framework for producing real change.

Perhaps the same is true of the mind. A belief, which is abstract, can be posed as absolute, or close to it, and used as a framework to build through the corners of the mind. Had intelligence never been measured, would a person still consider themselves inferior to another? Had time never been divided into milestones, would one feel behind in life? The differences would remain, as would the passing of years. Yet something of their meaning might disappear. 

As a student of mathematics and computing, and a lover of philosophy, this raises an important question: how much of what is called reality is reality itself, and how much is the interface through which human minds make reality intelligible?

This may be the real question.

A man once described how he could never imagine his partner being with someone else, despite having no intention of marrying her. Suppose the biological drive towards sexual exclusivity did not exist, and society had never equated love with possession or fidelity. Would he still feel betrayed at the thought of her being with another person? How much of the hurt remains if neither his biology nor the world around him had taught him to expect her exclusivity? Perhaps the attachment itself would survive, but the betrayal would not. Or perhaps even the attachment is inseparable from the framework through which he has learned to love. This only asks the question in miniature: how much of what is felt is the thing itself, and how much is the interface we are indoctrinated into?

Consider integral calculus. Draw a curve on a sheet of paper and imagine finding the area beneath it. Integration truly gives us a way to determine that area, even when the curve bends in ways that make direct measurement impossible. The framework can tell us precisely what must be measured, even when we cannot find a neat expression for the result. Some integrals resist every method we have devised further suggesting there is a rooted truth underneath. Is this merely a system we invented, or one we are gradually uncovering? The notation is ours, but the result does not appear to depend on what we call it. Perhaps the mathematical framework describes the structure of reality in a way that is absolute, and only the manner of describing it is ours.

And then the scale. It must have started with two rocks and three rocks, and objectively those are five rocks. From there we have discovered geometry, calculus, quantum physics, computers, artificial intelligence, and more. Somehow this ever-growing framework called mathematics keeps capturing reality without deviating from it, conforming back to its own roots, or so it seems. 

Is mathematics divine, or god itself? 

Calculus was invented only a couple hundred years ago. How did Newton even discover it? Newton and Leibniz arrived at it about ten years apart, both already indoctrinated in all the mathematics that came before them. A shared inheritance would explain the convergence, and so would a world that pushes back, and from inside the overlap the two cannot be told apart. Now widen the gap. If someone had reached a similar version hundreds or thousands of years earlier, working from a different toolkit, the coincidence would be much harder to blame on an interface, and the question might finally be answerable.

Mathematics is not a root of existence, yet it is not mere decoration. It is a constrained invention: a human interface that the world presses back against. That pressure separates mathematics from a story. A belief can be made absolute by decree. A theorem cannot be made false by one.

The test then travels. For all other abstractions, the frameworks of the mind, the useful question is not whether it was invented. It is what, if anything, pushes back.

One must aspire to see reality without its abstractions. The mind has been indoctrinated over time into forming an interface, and the task is to see through it. From childhood, we inherit distinctions we rarely seek to question: that truth is preferable to illusion, that certainty is preferable to doubt, that consistency is preferable to contradiction. We come to believe that to name something is to know it, that to explain something is to understand it, and that to distinguish is to discover a distinction that already exists in reality. These ideas gradually become so embedded that we cease to recognise them as ideas at all. The mind has been shaped by the very interface it must now attempt to see through. In fact the very belief that there exists a reality beneath our abstractions is itself an abstraction, another framework through which the mind attempts to make sense. 

Yet one can get closer and closer to the ultimate possibility: a free mind, of clear vision, able to see reality for itself. Through awareness of social norms, of abstractions, and of the root beneath, one can learn to see reality. At the same time the interface cannot be rejected, for without it, even the simplest interactions with the tangible world become difficult to navigate. One must learn to interact without mistaking an interface for reality. Perhaps this is what a full and true life holds.

The divine and the devil exist within humans. Not as a collective but as two parts of the same man. Many talk of morality when dissecting this. The divine consists of virtues: patience, selflessness. The devil consists of vices: envy, angst, and selfish qualities.

And yes, each man possesses both.

Yet perhaps there exists a line one can draw to distinguish when the effect of their presence commences one over the other. Some you can see as embodiments of the divine. Jesus and Buddha, preserved in scripture, are two. Others can seem as the personification of an anti-christ. Their presence destroys the soul of every man they come across, every place they step into. An overwhelming darkness in their mind seeps into everything around.

One must be careful of such people, as they will not rest until your spirit wears thin. Not in conscious form, no. But in a deeper consciousness, in a layer beneath another, their nerves fight for you to react, to be sucked into a void.

Some can resist this pull, yet many struggle. Even for the saints, one cannot deny that time is the minimum cost for such involvement. For which one must be careful, especially for those with a malleable mind, one of a chameleon.

There is something peculiar about such people. An unmistakable charisma, the smell of warmth and familiarity, and fierce independence serving as proof of their seeming inner confidence. Can such a man even hold the capacity for cruelty?

This independence, this detached nature, is perhaps derived from a need to control the frame, a constant need for reassurance of your reaction to them. One may mistake this for care. Do not be mistaken, for care for your reaction and care for you present the difference between the world and underworld. Love, hate, anger, jealousy only serve as proof to their power. Insignificance is the antithesis of love for such.

Sharp, uncontrollable reactions, seemingly bizarre and completely illogical, may surface. They appear suddenly, out of nowhere, only to shock and scare. A man so warm and liked cannot have a will to evil, can he? Perhaps the absurdity is only a consequence of our actions. So you subtly change yourself, slowly, only to find out it is truly independent of you. Deceive yourself if you may, but these are no random occurrences, for they reveal their true nature, their need for power and control. Their need for you to react.

Harboring sympathy for their unfortunate circumstance, showing avoidance or a lack of ability, or any such, and always holding a higher moral ground, is a weapon of devils. Perhaps they were abused. Perhaps they need to be understood. They will change soon if we are patient enough. So we compensate and accommodate, fooling ourselves that there exists virtue in them. Do not be fooled. Looking into them only pulls one deeper in. Learn to look outwards. Look at the effect of their presence. Destroyed people, suffocating environments. Most importantly the effect on you: frantic, anxious, stimulated. Women especially may present even softer vulnerability, often seductive in nature. A man in love is deranged of all logic and judgement, hence this may be the most powerful and most dangerous form.

Yet the vulnerability itself may be true. Perhaps they are avoidant, easily intimidated, unfortunate. Perhaps they act from it, talk of it. To be lulled in may even seem virtuous, for it mirrors your past, for it holds up who you believe yourself to be. So you have a choice to make: what feels virtuous, or what is. Will you be fooled again?

These devils, oftentimes, have deep-rooted fears and insecurities. Internal conflict and chronic dissatisfaction consume them, from which emerges this void. To compensate, they provoke you. These actions are perhaps motivated by such, they themselves are unaware of. Even the most self-aware, introspective ones may be blind to what sits in plain sight. In fact, many identify with moral good. How can one condemn a man for what he cannot see in himself? 

One must yet be careful to conclude as such, though. To risk mistaking an unpleasant man for a devil is to fall into a trap of its own. Circumstance itself varies a man's character; to be the devil with one and the divine with another. But a recurring effect transcending reason cannot be disregarded, must be closely watched, and acted upon decisively.

I have been thinking about modern art for a few weeks. I have been playing with the idea of what if an artist from the past with classic training and approach to art comes to our time and sees modern art and life in general like technology. Will he like modern art? Will he respect it? I know that he would probably laugh at it, but would he? Would he think that the existence of modern art is a representation of disconnect with nature or something else, or maybe he would like the art and say every period has its own. I wonder what you guys think.

History was never written by a crowd. It was always written by a man.

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The man who stays in the line and waits for the system to get better is a fool. A loop can only create another loop, it can never create an exit. To create something new, you have to step out of the line.

-

The crowd seeks safety in numbers, but safety never creates change. Change requires risk, and risk is always taken alone. The system rewards those who obey it, so it will never reward the one who breaks it. That is why real change looks like rebellion at first.

-

That's why history was never changed by those who followed the crowd. It was always a man who proved them all wrong.

Truth

What does it mean to be honest? Usually the answer is “the truth.” The skeptic might say that honesty doesn’t actually exist or that life is a matter of perspective. Another person, the nihilist, might say that truth is impossible because of the vastness and meaninglessness of life. The principle of this discussion is that without a clear definition, truth cannot exist. One person’s idea of truth may differ from another based on their religion or society or upbringing. The man born in Massachusetts may have a differing definition of truth compared to the   man living in Pyeongyang. Could it be that the truth is only what we are instructed to believe or that the truth is what we experience? The moral relativist would claim that every person’s point of view determines what “good” or “evil” is, but this disregards the object of truth. Because truth cannot be subjective, it cannot be explained further than stating what it is or is not. One cannot successfully attempt to reason with the truth without distorting it to fit their own narrative. This kind of bending truth instantly turns fact to fiction. In reality, there is no way that something can be mostly true or slightly untrue.

In World War II, there were many people who thought what was being done in Nazi Germany was right and just. Notice my wording of right and just. The reason these words are italicized is because I want to point out whether or not something is just simply means that a general consensus has been reached that agrees that an idea is fair. Unfortunately, the word fair also requires a consensus as to what is considered to be equal. I made sure to use the term equal instead of equitable because while these terms are similar, they have different meanings. Webster’s dictionary defines equitable as “fair and just, especially in a way that takes account of and seeks to address existing inequalities,” and equal as “being the same in quantity, size, degree, or value.” We run into a similar conundrum of defining fair and just in these definitions.

Circular reasoning serves no purpose when addressing these definitions. If I were to tell you that the sentencing of a murderer should be execution, there would be plenty of room for debate as to whether the execution of a murder is punishment fit for the crime. The nihilist would argue that it is, because both actions result in the same outcome. However, this philosophy does not apply to someone who kills two people. Because someone cannot be killed twice, is there a method of punishment that fits that crime? Perhaps someone could argue that isolation or torture could be just for that murderer’s punishment, but that would involve sustained harm without end. The idea that torture is wrong or unjust would require a consensus as to what is right or just like I stated before. Ultimately, we return to the fundamental question of what is right or wrong. Does it exist? If so, how do we distinguish?

In the biblical corpus, what is right can be aptly defined as what is “Like God”. This message can be found throughout the old and new testaments and can ultimately be described as what is “Christlike”. If this is the correct definition of what is right, the court systems would be based on the idea that only the one without sin can order someone to death. Since as the bible says, everyone is born with original sin, no one should be allowed to order another to death. Even with the Old-testament law of “Thou shall not murder” which is defined as unjust killing, this brings back the question of what is a just killing. One could say that killing in the defense of oneself or of another is a just killing because it is defensive. Unfortunately, the killing of innocents is all to common in our world. Of course, the argument will be made that no one is truly innocent, but does this mean that everyone is worthy or a premature death? If life is the most sacred of all, can we justly take it away?

Edit : OK this is a bit of an embarrassing post to look back on, I wrote it as a kind of rant at 4 am, and I've never really written anything that would be read seriously, and I don't have the philosophy knowledge or the writing chops to say anything meaningful I did have a point to make, and I might still have one, but I should have taken the time to make sure that point makes sense on its own, is grounded and informed, and is presented in a less Internet schizo way

I feel very often these days that earning the most money you can is the most moral thing you can do. That's not because I want to earn money. In fact, I'd prefer not to.

But if I don't earn money, I'm actively choosing to be dependent on my family. Or I'm choosing to be homeless, and hurting my family. And myself.

Conversely, the more money I earn, the happier I can be, and the happier I can make the people around me. And if I earn enough money, I can even start doing charity. If I earn enough money, eventually I won't even have to work anymore, because my money will make money for itself.

If you don't commit any obvious sins, then the amount of money you make, or the amount of enthusiasm you have for making money, working hard, is maybe the most important measure of how moral you are. Because it is the main thing determining what is possible for you to do.

But it feels wrong for some reason

I can't clearly state why this feels wrong

Obviously you can say that life is about fulfilling your unique purpose etc. But having money obviously makes that part much easier

And that's the only potential reason I cna think of why money isn't the end all be all

what if the biggest mistake we make when trying to understand reality is assuming that the human perspective is the center of it?
i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and eventually i started developing my own worldview. i call it universusism. the name comes from “universus”, meaning the whole. but universusism isn’t simply the idea that “everything is connected”. its main goal is to understand reality from the perspective of the whole rather than treating human experience as the starting point and the final reference for everything. one of the central principles is the question “why?” we can ask what something is and how it works, but universusism places particular importance on what lies behind those explanations. why does anything exist at all? why is there change? why does consciousness exist? does reality have a purpose? and if it does, where could that purpose come from?
another important part is the relationship between the whole and human perception. i believe that we experience reality through our own consciousness, which means that our perspective is always limited. we are trying to understand the whole while being a part of it.this also leads me to question things that humans often treat as fundamental, such as nationalities, borders and social categories. these things can be real in a social sense while still not being fundamental features of reality itself.
i also see existence as something constantly changing and interacting. humans, nature, consciousness, matter and the universe shouldn’t necessarily be understood as completely separate things, but as different parts or aspects of a larger reality. what i think makes universusism different is that it is supposed to apply its own method to itself.
i don’t want universusism to become a system that claims to possess the final truth. if the whole is greater than any explanation we can create of it, then universusism itself must remain open to criticism, revision and even rejection.
so i’m not presenting this as “i have figured out the universe.” i’m presenting it as an attempt to build a philosophical framework around one fundamental idea: we are part of the whole, trying to understand the whole, with a perspective that can never simply become the whole itself.
i’m planning to develop these ideas further and eventually write a book called “manifest of the whole.” i want to define the concepts more precisely, develop arguments for them, compare them with existing philosophies and seriously investigate where universusism could be wrong.
i’m posting this because i’m genuinely curious what people think.
what do you think is the strongest argument against universusism?

There are so many ways to exist, which one should i choose? What if we die without knowing that there was cooler way to live than we lived?

Or what if we made sense of any tragedy or suffering in a way that led to our life in one way, but same tragedy was dealt differently by different person, and they looked at the same suffering differently, and hence different lives. Not that any of the two lives would be better, both are unique in their own way, but what if we liked the later one more but we couldn’t ever know or discover that such living also exist?

(note this is just a random shower thought dont take it too serious)

I’ve been thinking about how human emotions regulate our behavior and came up with a simple mental model for how these three connect:

Ego is the core (our sense of self and self-preservation).

Pride is the outer shield (how we project confidence and defend our identity).

Shame is the aftermath (what we feel when that shield breaks).

If humanity suddenly lost all three, what would happen?

On one hand, we might eliminate war, toxic status-seeking, and political defensiveness. On the other hand, would we lose ambition, art, and the social accountability that keeps people acting fairly?

I’d love to hear how others think this would impact society, motivation, and human connection.

When i mean racism is ok i mean modern racism should be ok and not treated wrong like cancel culture does, the definition of racism is the unfair treatment, discrimination, or hatred of people based on their race, color, or ethnic background, driven by the belief that one's own race is superior without any factual evidence. modern racism on the other hand has become a sloppy version where you make jokes or say the n word and cancel culture immediately calls you a racist. so i personally think that saying the n word should be ok in every single race, otherwise it would truly be racist for only black people to be able to say it. if you think about the roles got reversed where black people are supposedly the superior race as they treat white people like crap. but this is just an opinion, so please do not give personal attacks based on this post. i only wanted to know the thoughts of other people on this idea. NOT to offend anyone.

(im asian btw i dont mean to offend anyone) the post is edited

The transplant scenario is a classic ethical conflict. A surgeon has five patients in critical condition, with all needing organ transplants. The surgeon also has a patient in non-critical condition, but this patient has all the healthy organs to save the other five. Assuming that the healthy patient did not give consent, would taking the life of one person to save five be morally justifiable in this situation? 

While at first this question seems to come down to conflicting moral theories. A Utilitarian may argue that saving five lives would create a greater overall good than saving one. A deontologist may argue that intentionally killing an innocent person is wrong despite the consequences. Yet the dilemma raises another problem that cannot be reduced to either theory. How do the differing moralities of humans interchange and decide on how to handle the dilemma. 

Considering a change in circumstances. Suppose two of the five patients needing transplants are convicted killers. Should their past actions affect the surgeon's decision? Should the Surgeon save only three? Or should all five be treated equally despite their past? So now reversing the situation. Suppose the healthy patient was a convicted child molester. Would knowledge of this person's crime make the decision to harvest the organs much easier, with saving the other five patients more acceptable? Now what if all six patients were arguably bad people with each guilty of committing severe crimes, would the moral decision change then.

These examples demonstrate that moral judgement is not only influenced by abstract principles but also how people perceive responsibility, justice, and human worth. The real question of these scenarios isn’t what makes someone entitled to be protected from killing in this situation, but how differing moralities of humans interchange in coming to a conclusion.

This is not a matter of choosing between Utilitarianism or Deontology. Both theories provided different ways of determining what has to be done, even though the conclusions have very different principles. The larger issue is human morality. Moral beliefs vary from individuals and cultures, even people who share broad principles may interpret them differently or even drop them when confronted with particular circumstances. 

Humans are unequal in countless physical and social characteristics: some are bigger, stronger, smarter, or more attractive. Yet despite the differences, we are equal in our ability to cause harm to one another. An unsettling idea, but yet a physically weak person can cause harm to a stronger person, especially with modern technology. This reveals tension between our moral ideas and the realities of human vulnerability. We construct moral principles that emphasize peace and restraint, but humans remain capable of great violence when circumstances place those values under extreme pressure. 

Another hypothetical situation. A devout pacifist faces off against an abductor who has their child captive, the pacifist has the chance to save their kid in time before they are taken away, but they must result to violence to do this. Would the parent maintain commitment to pacifism even at the potential cost of their child's life, or would violence be used breaking their moral principle to save their child's life. 

If the pacifist chose violence, this does not necessarily prove that their moral beliefs were wrong. The person’s commitment to non-violence may still be genuine, while the value they placed on protecting their child becomes stronger in that particular circumstance. Reality had forced two moral commitments into competition, demonstrating how reality can affect beliefs by causing alterations in them.

This can also be observed in how people develop their moral beliefs. Young Children are shaped by their families, schools, communities, experiences, and environment. Their understanding of right and wrong is not formed independently from the surrounding world. Adults are also similarly influenced by experiences, although established beliefs may make change more difficult. 

Malcolm X provides a historical example of morals being affected by experiences. During an earlier time of his life, he expressed deeply cynical views involving white people, while also preaching black separation. After his pilgrimage to Mecca, he described encountering Muslims of different racial and ethnic backgrounds interacting as equals. His subsequent writing and speeches reflect significant moral shifts and changes in his understanding of race and human relations. His experience challenged assumptions he had previously formed as a part of his worldviews.

This raises another important question: if someone sincerely believes a moral principle, but later abandons or alters it after encountering new circumstances, was the original morality simply incomplete, or false entirely. 

Maybe the answer to this question is that moral principle should not be understood as independent of reality, but directly affected by it. Human beings create, inherit, revise, and defend moral principles, but those principles are constantly challenged by reality. A person may sincerely believe their moral belief is absolute until confronted with a situation where something of value is being challenged just as deeply.

This does not necessarily mean that morality is entirely subjective or that every moral belief is equally valid. Nor does it mean that principles should be abandoned in tough circumstances. Instead it suggests that moral reasoning is in a continual interaction between principles and reality. Circumstances can reveal contradictions in our beliefs, expose moral limitations in the framework, or force reconsideration in what values should take priority. 

Human morality is neither entirely objective in application nor arbitrary. People construct moral principles, but those principles are constantly challenged and transformed by real world circumstances, experiences, family, and competing obligations. A person may sincerely believe their moral belief is absolute until confronted with a situation where something of value is being challenged just as deeply. The difficulty of morality lies not simply in determining what is right, but in understanding why humans hold onto, abandon, and reconstruct their ideas of right and wrong when reality challenges what they previously believed in. Beliefs do not exist in isolated realities, but are rather consistently tested by it.

(Journal Entry)

Swimming

Now I know that I can have everything I want. So it’s not about that anymore. Dreaming and planning doesn’t excite me like it used to, when I was searching for the how, when deep down I knew the person I was couldn’t do it. 
There’s nothing stopping me now.
Desire isn’t what excites me. It doesn’t excite me because I’ve fulfilled it. Everything I want I already have, it’s only a matter of time. There’s no question, no logical reason for anything to be internally out of my control. I guess what I pursue as a person is solving questions. It’s a relentless obsession. I’ve never been able to sit with myself if there was even an ounce of confusion. It created an inability to feel peace, to feel accomplishment. It felt wrong, and detrimental. Like a virus almost. And my brain, like an immune system, needed to put all it’s energy into attacking it before it fucked me up. 
I get to the absolute bottom. I dig up all the dirt, excavate every treasure, and lay it out in front of me, so that I can see it all for exactly what it is.
And now, the next questions unfold. And they have nothing to do with what, but with when.
And I can’t put those questions into words yet, but I'll tell you what I can. I’ll tell you that I think about destiny a lot. 
If it’s real. If it’s determined. What is truly in our control. If the will of our tiny human minds and hearts can really leave a footprint on something so vast and self regulated like the perfectly balanced universe. My hands have finally found the wheel and I've always known how to drive. Now I want to know how fast I can go. Or more so, how quickly I can get to the destination. What it takes to beat the eta.
What is the magnitude of what I can do now and how will that compound as I gain. How full will the bucket become when I squeeze each and every opportunity dry. How far can I push the bounds of destiny until the universe intervenes. That’s what fires me up.
My engine ignites and the location is set. I follow the map and hold the time on it as a suggestion not a definition, and so is the speed limit. Pure curiosity, pure thrill bringing my foot down harder on the pedal. The streets have rules but only a physical barrier can stop this object in motion. Their architecture and the other cars are exclusive to my concentration. I maneuver erratically, tires skid, forceful breaking and acceleration. On the freeway the other cars are slow, I’m not. I find the openings, hit the gaps. I don’t look at the back of the car in front of me and I'm moving too fast to need the rearview mirror. I look ahead, I look at it all, there’s no option to slow down and at this speed I can’t stop. People ask me if I'm afraid I'll crash. To me it’s not a possibility, I'm blind to it. I can’t see collision, I see where I fit, and where I'll keep fitting, connecting like a maze to the empty spaces ahead. They teach you it’s a must to drive defensively, but that’s under the impression that the other cars are unpredictable. I disagree, I know exactly how a driver will act, based on their car and how they’re driving. How clean it is, how dirty. What the cars are doing around it. It’s not asphalt, and painted lines, and vehicles getting to where they want to go. It’s the funnest game in history. The rules? Don’t get caught. I guess that’s the universe pulling me over to stop and think. But what do I know? Most people consider me a dumb driver.

Hello all, im currently trying to understand whether Clifford thinks if our beliefs influence or cause our actions. I also was trying to formulate his argument by breaking it up into his core premises that lead to his conclusion "it is wrong always, everywhere, and for anyone, to believe anything upon insufficient evidence”. As of now, I think that the first two premises which lead to this conclusion are :

that our beliefs dictate our actions

Therefore,

morality is judged by our beliefs.

I could be wrong in thinking this hence I require clarification on if Clifford actually thinks this and if what I wrote is an accurate representation of his argument. Any response or help would be very appreciated.