Logical Foundation

Preface

Before we embark on our journey of understanding, there are some key concepts that are important to comprehend beforehand if the reader is to seamlessly follow along with the explanations. These key concepts form the basic argumentative structure of a scientific examination of reality. A good understanding of them is therefore required if we are to build coherent and logical lines of reasoning.

Key concept 1 - The act of understanding automatically requires us to assume certain premises to be true.

Key concept 2 - The logical combination of two or more premises is what generates conclusions. A simple example would be that if “A equals B” and “B equals C”, we would conclude that “A equals C”.

Key concept 3 - A conclusion is fundamentally flawed if any of the supporting premises is flawed.

Key concept 4 - A true understanding of reality begins by defining the most fundamental premises we can assume to be true.

Key concept 5 - A true understanding of reality works its way up to a conclusion by only using probabilities to determine the supporting premises. This is also called inductive reasoning.

Key concept 6 - In order to reach conclusions that do not contradict themselves, we must be aware of hidden premises. These are premises that are often not stated clearly in the line of reasoning but are nevertheless required to reach the final conclusion. Overlooking hidden premises is what usually leads to performative contradictions.

While some of these key concepts might be hard to fully grasp right now, a basic understanding of them is enough to start our exploration. On that note, Part One will already delve deeper into the intricacies of reality. If at any point during the reading experience questions arise, revisiting this introduction might help clear them up.

What is the essence?

When setting out on an exploration of reality, we want to start from the essence of the essence. We want to establish our understanding on the most fundamental premises and make sure that we build a coherent line of reasoning from the very beginning.

So how would one go about finding this essence?

This is where things get interesting. Because even asking the question is already assuming that we are able to ask ourselves the question, which requires a certain framework to do so. Not only do we need to exist, but we also need, for example, to be in the possession of a functional brain, including the ability to speak, memorize and structure beliefs (all factors which depend upon well-defined consistent patterns)

So before we answer the question, we have to take into account that both our existence and the presence of consistent patterns are required to even ask the question and should thus be incorporated in our line of reasoning as the two most fundamental premises (not doing so is what often leads to contradictions in our rhetoric.)

Our existence and the presence of consistent patterns are often also called hidden premises.

Consistent patterns are here defined as the regular and intelligible patterns that underlie the structure of reality (such as the ones observed in nature). An in-depth explanation of what these patterns consist of (and of how they likely come about) can be found later in this chapter.

Are we asking the question?

As we have explored before, the act of asking the question automatically requires certain premises in place. At first glance, this realization might not seem so significant but it does bring up an important point. If our ability to ask the question is intrinsically dependent on other premises, to which extent can we be sure that we are indeed asking the question?

Even though this may sound like an absurd proposition, if we consider some of the necessary premises for us to be able to confidently claim that we are asking the question, we start realizing that maybe it is not so absurd after all.

One of the most important is the existence of time and space. For us to know with full certainty that we are asking the question, we would have to assume that there is a time interval within which the question is being asked because, without this time interval, we simply could not know when (or if) we were asking the question in the first place.

The problem is that, while our natural tendency is to automatically take both time and space for absolutes, there are very concrete scientific observations that contradict this assumption. If we look, for example, at quantum mechanics (a field of science that studies the smallest building blocks of our universe) and we observe the exquisite behavior of particles popping in and out of existence and going back and forth in time, we start realizing that time and space are concepts which are a lot more abstract than one would initially think.

This understanding is all we need to answer the question with which we started this topic. Within a framework where time and space seem to possess elusive properties and we are not able, as a result, of accurately pinpointing the time interval within which we would be asking the question, we are essentially left not knowing whether the question is being asked in the first place.

Naturally, all the given assumptions about time and space also hold true for any statement we make. In the same way that we do not know whether we are asking the question, we also do not know whether we are verbalizing anything at all.

This realization brings about a very strong logical pillar, one that deeply defines the core of our argumentation: In a reality where we do not know if we are verbalizing our statements, we have to automatically assume that those statements might be wrong. We simply cannot be absolutely certain of the truthfulness of our statements when the very words that bring them about are potentially not being spoken. Of course, one could still question if concluding that we cannot be completely certain of our statements is an absolute truth - because if it is, we would be contradicting ourselves. But the thing is that we just don’t know. Even saying that we cannot be completely certain of our statements is, in itself, an assumption.

Can we be sure we exist?

As we have explored before, in a setting where we do not know if we are verbalizing our statements, we also cannot know with full certainty whether those statements are true. Although simple, this is an understanding that greatly defines the course of our entire exploration because not only does it bring forth the assumption that absolutes do not exist, it also leads to an unexpected, perhaps even unbelievable realization - the fact that even our own existence cannot be proclaimed with absolute certainty.

Now on the surface, this can, of course, sound very absurd. Judging by our own experience, it would only seem natural to conclude with absolute confidence that we are alive, aware and interacting with the world. Claiming otherwise would even be somewhat paradoxical.

What is very important to be aware though is that, even if for some reason we disagree with the argument that absolutes do not exist, the reality framework we are subjected to is still one that does not allow our existence to be absolutely proven.

This is mainly because, as weird as it may sound, even if we would want to make the case that we definitely exist, we would not be able to do so. Not because it would be physically impossible to verbalize the words but because any potential argument that we could use would be logically invalid at its foundation.

To understand why this is the case, it is crucial to analyze the relationship between language and experience. Even though we are often not aware of it, language is an element that is brought about by our experience and there are certain underlying dynamics that arise from this relationship that we must be aware of if we want to build a line of reasoning that does not contradict itself.

These dynamics can be better comprehended by visualizing experience and all of its elements as a Euler diagram. Euler diagrams are diagrams which are commonly used to describe, in a very simple way, the logical relationships between hierarchical concepts. For example, in this specific case, we could draw a diagram where experience would be represented by an entire set and language would be represented by one of the small subsets within the entire set.

The architecture of this specific type of diagram brings with it certain logical principles. While we can assume that a subset is true when the entire set is true, we cannot, however, do the opposite - which is using the fact that a subset is true to prove that the entire set is true.

So we can already see why Euler diagrams are of great relevance when it comes to understanding the dynamics between language and experience. Since language can be defined as a small subset of the entire set that is experience, anytime we attempt to explain why we exist, we are essentially using one of the subsets of the entire set to prove the set itself, and we cannot do that. We simply cannot take an element that only exists within the set of experience and use it to embody that experience.

So, in a sense, we are trapped. Our own experience might even seem very real but if due to the relationship between language and experience, no argument can be possibly given to defend the idea that we exist, we have no other alternative but to accept that even the concept of ‘experience’ is a premise we cannot prove with absolute certainty.

In the same way that we cannot claim our own experience to be absolute, we also cannot do the opposite - which is declaring it as nonexistent. The act of doing so is considered a performative contradiction, a fallacy that arises when the statement that we are making contradicts the ability to make it. In this specific case, the statement that experience does not exist would be contradicting itself since we need experience to even claim it.

One could still, of course, claim that the provided arguments do not specifically point out the reason why we might not exist and that further analysis is therefore required before we completely dismiss the idea of an absolute existence. In that event, the question that then becomes extremely important to ask is “When do we exist?”. Because if we really want to make the case that we absolutely exist, we have to consider that existence automatically requires a certain time interval to express itself. Without this interval, we would not know when we exist and would therefore not be able to claim with absolute certainty that we do, in fact, exist.

When do we exist?

As we have explored before, on the assumption that the logical reasoning so far presented could still be argued and that the notion that we absolutely exist could also be upheld, what then becomes extremely important to do is identifying the time interval within which existence could manifest itself.

So what is this time interval, concretely? If we look at reality and we take the universal notion of time to be true, we can assume that time is divided into 3 periods - past, present, and future. Our goal here would be therefore to understand in which of these time periods could we be sure that we exist.

Right off the bat, we can already assume that the future is not one of those periods because if, for example, tomorrow everything would come to an end, there would be no future anymore. And so, since we cannot even be sure that the future will come, we also cannot be sure that we will exist within it.

The past, on the other hand, requires a more detailed explanation. Mainly because, even though we cannot know with full certainty that we have existed in the past, our normal tendency is to assume that we did. Our memories (and a seemingly continuous stream of time) give us the perception that we have existed previously and also, that everything that happened throughout the years is now collectively giving rise to who we are.

To understand why we cannot base ourselves on our memories to conclude that we have existed in the past, the thought experiment where we imagine that we have been cloned (the generation of a perfect copy of us with the same appearance, memories, and beliefs) is particularly helpful.

This is because if we were copied and someone would ask us whether our clone had existed in the past, we would naturally say no. Even though the clone would have the same memories and could, therefore, remember the same life experiences that we do, we would know for a fact that our clone did not exist in the past - it had only appeared now.

This observation is of great relevance to our line of reasoning. Because if our clone and ourselves are essentially the same person and it is clear that the clone’s memories didn’t come from the past, we have, at least, to consider the possibility that our own memories might not be coming from the past. In fact, for all we know, in the same way that our clone manifested itself right now, maybe everything that makes up who we are (including our memories) has also arisen at this very moment (and then we could even wonder whether such a thing as a ‘former time’ exists).

So when trying to identify the time interval within which existence could manifest itself, we have to be aware that both past and future are nothing more than simple assumptions. We cannot be absolutely sure of their concreteness which is why, ultimately, the only way we can analyze the situation is by concluding that we exist in the present moment. If there is a time interval within which we can be relatively confident that existence comes to fruition, that interval has to be right now.