JOURNAL
(Painting detail on right: The Change by artist Akiane, at age 11)
THE EVOLUTION of a BLACK SWAN
October 20, 2008
Now that my life
is so prearranged
I know that it's time
for a cool change
– Little River Band, “Cool Change”
Perhaps in the spirit of change--the shifting seasons, a sinking economy, a new President on the horizon--I made it a point recently to expose myself to as many mind-opening experiences as I could (all perfectly legal, I assure you).
I kicked off September at the Kentucky Women Writers Conference in Lexington,
where one of the keynote speakers was Joyce Carol Oates. (Does anyone else think
this woman bears a striking resemblance to Olive Oyl?) While there, I picked
up Oates’ book, The Faith of a Writer, in which she explores the
“motive for metaphor,” or the impulse behind art. Arriving at no
final or persuasive answers, she cedes to Sigmund Freud’s assertion that
“beauty has no obvious use; nor is there any clear cultural necessity
for it. Yet civilization could not do without it.”
However, in her short essay, “My Faith as a Writer,” I believe Oates offers, if not an answer to why we are compelled toward the arts, than at least a working theory: “I believe that art is the highest expression of the human spirit. I believe that we yearn to transcend the merely finite and ephemeral; to participate in something mysterious and communal called ‘culture’—and that this yearning is as strong in our species as the yearning to reproduce the species.”
Another
seminar I attended in September was sponsored by Louisville’s Idea Festival.
Founded in 2000, the Idea Festival, as described on its website, “is a
world-class event that attracts leading and highly diverse thinkers from
across the nation and around the globe to explore and celebrate innovation,
imagination and cutting-edge ideas.” (If you’ve never
been, I highly recommend it.) One session I attended was Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s
“The Black Swan,” named after his bestselling book. Born and raised
in Lebanon, Taleb, a speculative trader trained in quantitative finance, has
spent the better part of his life studying randomness and the epistemology of
chance events.
A Black Swan, according to Taleb, is any highly improbable event or phenomenon that has massive consequences, and, despite its unpredictability, people will concoct explanations to make it appear less random. The term comes from the belief people once held that only white swans existed, based on confirmatory empirical evidence—that is, until a black swan was discovered in Australia. And this single observation invalidated a firmly held belief taken from millennia of confirmatory evidence.
The Internet, Google, the spread of Christianity, the rise of Islamic fundamentalism, 9/11—even our current economic crisis—are all examples of Black Swans. Taleb believes the world and our private lives are centered and shaped around Black Swans, or the “cumulative effect of a handful of significant shocks.” In fact, considering the astronomical odds against us being born at all, he believes each of us is a Black Swan.
In his book, Taleb essentially stands conventional wisdom on its head. He asserts
that most of us base our decisions on what we do know, when what we don’t
know is far more relevant (and extensive). On his website, Taleb states, “I
am interested in how to turn lack of information, lack of understanding, and
lack of ‘knowledge’ into decisions –how not to be a ‘turkey.’”
We are blind to Black Swans, in part, due to how our brains are hardwired—to automatically interpret things, to simplify the complex, to theorize and categorize in order to make sense of information. This makes me think of a possible answer to the question Joyce Carl Oates raises in her book: Why are we drawn to metaphor? Maybe, biologically speaking, we can’t help but be. “Odd,” Virginia Woolf writes in her diary, “how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order.”
While Taleb blames “narrative fallacy”--our vulnerability to overinterpretation and partiality for stories over raw truths--as one factor behind our blindness to Black Swans, he acknowledges his own reliance on narrative in his book. The whole premise of his book, in fact, hinges on metaphor—the Black Swan, a symbol of the unknown and abstract. Taleb yields, “Metaphors and stories are far more potent (alas) than ideas; they are also easier to remember and more fun to read. . . . .Ideas come and go, stories stay.” Ah, my fellow storytellers, we are once again vindicated!
Another fascinating session I attended at Idea Festival was entitled “Who Helps Who . . . and Why? The Nature of Goodness.” Lee Dugatkin, the distinguished biology professor at the University of Louisville, discussed how evidence of altruistic behavior can be seen not only in the insect and animal kingdoms but also, remarkably, in single-cell organisms--even the lowly slime mold. The pivotal question evolutionary biologists are trying to answer is this: Is altruism based on some underlying genetics? Studies have shown that the closer the genetic or blood kinship, the higher the occurrence of altruism.
Now researchers have linked a gene to altruism. Humans with a longer key section (called a promoter) of the AVPR1a gene were found to display more generous behavior than those with shorter promoters. The AVPR1a gene produces receptors in the brain that detect vasopressin, a hormone associated with social bonding and monogamy. (Sorry for the gross oversimplification). Would you believe, while surfing the Net on this topic, I found a lab that will test your prospective spouse’s DNA to determine if he/she has an altruistic-/monogamous-friendly AVPR1a gene? And for you fundraisers out there, if you’re wondering how to encourage altruism, Dugatkin suggests this tactic: use the language of blood kinship—sister, brother, etc. Or, better yet, get a copy of the above mentioned DNA list!
Lastly, I’d like to mention another provocative seminar I attended at St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church in Louisville on a new movement called Sacred Evolution or Evolution Theology. (I realize this is a hot-button issue for some.) The “evolutionary evangelists” Reverend Michael Dowd and his wife, science writer Connie Barlow, have been living on the road for the last six years, preaching the “saving good news of evolution” in an effort to help bridge science and religion, a topic in which I’ve become increasingly interested.
The more I learn about how the brain works, the more compassion I feel for all humans. As Dowd and Barlow described, every day we must contend with the vying agendas of virtually four brains: our primitive “Lizard Legacy” (concerned with sustenance, survival, and sex), our “Furry Li’l Mammal” (associated with the limbic system, controlling the emotional brain and those ever-fluctuating hormones), our “Monkey Mind” (the rational, chatty part of the brain that insists on interpreting everything) and our “Higher Porpoise” (conscience, free will).
One tidbit of information from the seminar I found particularly interesting was this: There is a well-established link in mammals between a rise in status and elevated levels of testosterone. (Think Ted Haggard, Bill Clinton, John Edwards.) Dowd and Barlow, however, are in no way suggesting we use our genetic makeup as an excuse to shirk responsibility for our actions. I haven’t yet read Dowd’s book, Thank God for Evolution, but the following passage hints at the value Dowd places on the integration of the diverse aspects of our evolutionary heritage:
“Understanding the unwanted drives within us as having served our ancestors for millions of years is far more empowering than imagining that we are the way we are because of inner demons, or because the world’s first woman and man ate a forbidden apple a few thousand years ago. The path to freedom lies in appreciating one’s instincts, while taking steps to channel these powerful energies in ways that will serve our higher purposes.”
All these events helped challenge and broaden my thinking, and I wish I took the time to step outside my little world more often. I have this theory (and fear) that the more information we’re inundated with, the more we’ll categorize and compartmentalize (if only to avoid going insane). The election is a prime example—the labels we assign to the candidates and their supporters, the way we hone in on a few “facts” and refuse to consider other possibilities, our propensity to gravitate to the media outlets that promote our own views, etc. As Taleb warns, “Categorizing always produces reduction in true complexity. It is the manifestation of the Black Swan generator. . . . Any reduction of the world around us can have explosive consequences since it rules out some sources of uncertainty.”
Oates advises we read every now and then something that goes against the grain of our taste, or what we believe to be our taste, and I think this philosophy has applications far beyond reading. She writes, “perhaps there’s much to learn, and to be inspired by, if only in knowing what it is to be an outsider gazing in.”
Other resources:
MICHAEL
DOWD
NASSIM NICHOLAS
TALEB
IDEAFEST 2008
KENTUCKY WOMEN WRITERS CONFERENCE
AKIANE (Website
of child prodigy, Akiane. See for yourself her amazing work. She also writes
poetry, often to go along with her paintings.)