The best way to deal with failure

Coca-Cola executives Robert C. Goizueta and Donald R. Keough toast cans of ‘New Coke’ – a product rollout that’s considered one of the biggest business blunders of all time. AP Photo/Marty Lederhandler

Failure is a part of life, and we make mistakes pretty much every day. How do we cope? Or better yet, how should we cope?

Academics and the mainstream media tend to offer a simple solution: Don’t let it get to you and think about how things could have been worse.

These self-protective thoughts usually make you feel better. You move on.

But is it possible that popular wisdom is missing a bit of the puzzle? Does setting aside the negative emotions make you any less likely to repeat the mistake? Noelle Nelson, Baba Shiv and I decided to explore possible upsides of feeling bad about failure.

Feeling the pain

Even though they’re unpleasant, we feel negative emotions for a reason: They likely played an important role in human evolution and survival.

Negative emotions tell us to pay attention, signaling that something’s wrong – with our body, with our environment, with our relationships.

So if you avoid negative emotions, you also might be avoiding the thing that needs your attention. Could deciding to focus on the negative emotions associated with failure lead to thoughts about self-improvement – and, with time, actual improvement?

We designed a series of experiments to test this question.

In the studies, we used something called a two-stage paradigm: First participants attempted a task in which they failed; then – after series of unrelated tasks – they would have the opportunity to redeem themselves.

In one, we asked our participants to search the internet for the lowest price for a particular blender brand and model (with the possibility of winning a cash price if they were successful). In reality, the task was rigged. At the end, the participants were simply told that the lowest price was US$3.27 less than what they had found. We then asked half the participants to focus on their emotional response to having failed, while the other half were instructed to focus on their thoughts about how they did. Then we asked them to reflect, in writing, on how they felt.

After a few unrelated tasks, we gave the participants a chance to redeem themselves. In this seemingly unrelated task, we told participants to imagine that they were going to the birthday of a friend who wanted a book as a gift. We also told them that the book they find should be a bargain.
We found that participants who were previously instructed to focus on the negative emotions following their failure in the blender task spent nearly 25 percent more time searching for a low-priced book than those who had been instructed to focus on their thoughts.

When we examined the written responses, we also found some important differences.
Those who had focused on their failure – rather than dwelling on how they felt – tended to have defensive responses: “I didn’t care much about this anyway”; “It would have been impossible to find that price.”

In contrast, the participants who had spent time parsing their emotions produced thoughts oriented toward self-improvement: “If I’d only searched longer, I would have found that price”; “I gave up too quickly.”

Not all mistakes are the same

It appears that focusing on the emotions of failure can trigger different thoughts and behaviors. Perhaps when you reflect on how bad you feel after failing, it motivates you to avoid experiencing that feeling again.

But could this improvement migrate into other endeavors – for tasks unrelated to the original?

Buffalo Bills kicker Scott Norwood walks off the field after missing what would have been the game-winning field goal against the New York Giants in Super Bowl XXV. Chris O'Meara/AP Photo

To test this question, we added a variation of the second gift scenario. Instead of telling the participants to find an affordable book (which involved a price search like the original task), we asked them to find a book that they thought their friend would like. In this case, it didn’t matter whether participants had focused on their emotions or thoughts after the first task; they spent similar times searching for the best gift. It seems as though the improvement only happens if the second task is somewhat similar to the original, failed one.

While “feeling your failure” can be a good thing, it doesn’t change the fact that this can hurt. There’s a reason people tend to instinctively rationalize or have self-protective thoughts after they’ve made a mistake.

It would be debilitating if you were to focus on how bad you felt after each failure, big and small. So it’s up to you to decide which failures to try to improve upon, and which failures to shield yourself from. Clearly, one-off events or inconsequential mistakes – taking the wrong turn in a foreign city or being late to a party with friends – don’t make the best candidates (hence the saying “don’t sweat the small stuff”).

But if you’ve failed at something that you know you’re going to have to confront in the future – say, a task for a new role at work – pause and feel the pain. Use it to fuel improvement. If you focus on how bad you feel, you’ll probably work harder to ensure you don’t make a same mistake again.

Selin Malkoc, Associate Professor of Marketing, The Ohio State University
This article was originally published on The Conversation.

Arguments why God (very probably) exists

Does God exist? Michael Peligro, CC BY-ND

Note from Editor of The Conversation US: This is a revised version of the original piece. We have done so to make explicit the author’s expertise with regard to the subject of this article. We have also incorporated important context that was missing in the original version.

The question of whether a god exists is heating up in the 21st century. According to a Pew survey, the percent of Americans having no religious affiliation reached 23 percent in 2014. Among such “nones,” 33 percent said that they do not believe in God – an 11 percent increase since only 2007.

Such trends have ironically been taking place even as, I would argue, the probability for the existence of a supernatural god have been rising. In my 2015 book, “God? Very Probably: Five Rational Ways to Think about the Question of a God,” I look at physics, the philosophy of human consciousness, evolutionary biology, mathematics, the history of religion and theology to explore whether such a god exists. I should say that I am trained originally as an economist, but have been working at the intersection of economics, environmentalism and theology since the 1990s.

Laws of math

In 1960 the Princeton physicist – and subsequent Nobel Prize winner – Eugene Wigner raised a fundamental question: Why did the natural world always – so far as we know – obey laws of mathematics?

As argued by scholars such as Philip Davis and Reuben Hersh, mathematics exists independent of physical reality. It is the job of mathematicians to discover the realities of this separate world of mathematical laws and concepts. Physicists then put the mathematics to use according to the rules of prediction and confirmed observation of the scientific method.

But modern mathematics generally is formulated before any natural observations are made, and many mathematical laws today have no known existing physical analogues.

Einstein Memorial, National Academy of Sciences, Washington, D.C. Wally Gobetz, CC BY-ND

Einstein’s 1915 general theory of relativity, for example, was based on theoretical mathematics developed 50 years earlier by the great German mathematician Bernhard Riemann that did not have any known practical applications at the time of its intellectual creation.

In some cases the physicist also discovers the mathematics. Isaac Newton was considered among the greatest mathematicians as well as physicists of the 17th century. Other physicists sought his help in finding a mathematics that would predict the workings of the solar system. He found it in the mathematical law of gravity, based in part on his discovery of calculus.

At the time, however, many people initially resisted Newton’s conclusions because they seemed to be “occult.” How could two distant objects in the solar system be drawn toward one another, acting according to a precise mathematical law? Indeed, Newton made strenuous efforts over his lifetime to find a natural explanation, but in the end he could say only that it is the will of God.

Despite the many other enormous advances of modern physics, little has changed in this regard. As Wigner wrote, “the enormous usefulness of mathematics in the natural sciences is something bordering on the mysterious and there is no rational explanation for it.”

In other words, as I argue in my book, it takes the existence of some kind of a god to make the mathematical underpinnings of the universe comprehensible.

Math and other worlds

In 2004 the great British physicist Roger Penrose put forward a vision of a universe composed of three independently existing worlds – mathematics, the material world and human consciousness. As Penrose acknowledged, it was a complete puzzle to him how the three interacted with one another outside the ability of any scientific or other conventionally rational model.

How can physical atoms and molecules, for example, create something that exists in a separate domain that has no physical existence: human consciousness?
It is a mystery that lies beyond science.

Plato. Elizabethe, CC BY-NC-ND

This mystery is the same one that existed in the Greek worldview of Plato, who believed that abstract ideas (above all mathematical) first existed outside any physical reality. The material world that we experience as part of our human existence is an imperfect reflection of these prior formal ideals. As the scholar of ancient Greek philosophy, Ian Mueller, writes in “Mathematics And The Divine,” the realm of such ideals is that of God.

Indeed, in 2014 the MIT physicist Max Tegmark argues in “Our Mathematical Universe” that mathematics is the fundamental world reality that drives the universe. As I would say, mathematics is operating in a god-like fashion.

The mystery of human consciousness

The workings of human consciousness are similarly miraculous. Like the laws of mathematics, consciousness has no physical presence in the world; the images and thoughts in our consciousness have no measurable dimensions.

Yet, our nonphysical thoughts somehow mysteriously guide the actions of our physical human bodies. This is no more scientifically explicable than the mysterious ability of nonphysical mathematical constructions to determine the workings of a separate physical world.

Until recently, the scientifically unfathomable quality of human consciousness inhibited the very scholarly discussion of the subject. Since the 1970s, however, it has become a leading area of inquiry among philosophers.

Recognizing that he could not reconcile his own scientific materialism with the existence of a nonphysical world of human consciousness, a leading atheist, Daniel Dennett, in 1991 took the radical step of denying that consciousness even exists.

Finding this altogether implausible, as most people do, another leading philosopher, Thomas Nagel, wrote in 2012 that, given the scientifically inexplicable – the “intractable” – character of human consciousness, “we will have to leave [scientific] materialism behind” as a complete basis for understanding the world of human existence.

As an atheist, Nagel does not offer religious belief as an alternative, but I would argue that the supernatural character of the workings of human consciousness adds grounds for raising the probability of the existence of a supernatural god.

Evolution and faith

Evolution is a contentious subject in American public life. According to Pew, 98 percent of scientists connected to the American Association for the Advancement of Science “believe humans evolved over time” while only a minority of Americans “fully accept evolution through natural selection.”
As I say in my book, I should emphasize that I am not questioning the reality of natural biological evolution. What is interesting to me, however, are the fierce arguments that have taken place between professional evolutionary biologists. A number of developments in evolutionary theory have challenged traditional Darwinist – and later neo-Darwinist – views that emphasize random genetic mutations and gradual evolutionary selection by the process of survival of the fittest.

From the 1970s onwards, the Harvard evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould created controversy by positing a different view, “punctuated equilibrium,” to the slow and gradual evolution of species as theorized by Darwin.

In 2011, the University of Chicago evolutionary biologist James Shapiro argued that, remarkably enough, many micro-evolutionary processes worked as though guided by a purposeful “sentience” of the evolving plant and animal organisms themselves. “The capacity of living organisms to alter their own heredity is undeniable,” he wrote. “Our current ideas about evolution have to incorporate this basic fact of life.”

A number of scientists, such as Francis Collins, director of the U.S. National Institutes of Health, “see no conflict between believing in God and accepting the contemporary theory of evolution,” as the American Association for the Advancement of Science points out.
 
For my part, the most recent developments in evolutionary biology have increased the probability of a god.

Miraculous ideas at the same time?

For the past 10,000 years at a minimum, the most important changes in human existence have been driven by cultural developments occurring in the realm of human ideas.

In the Axial Age (commonly dated from 800 to 200 B.C.), world-transforming ideas such as Buddhism, Confucianism, the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, and the Hebrew Old Testament almost miraculously appeared at about the same time in India, China, ancient Greece and among the Jews in the Middle East, groups having little interaction with one another.

Many world-transforming ideas, such as Buddhism, appeared in the world around the same time. Karyn Christner, CC BY

The development of the scientific method in the 17th century in Europe and its modern further advances have had at least as great a set of world-transforming consequences. There have been many historical theories, but none capable, I would argue, of explaining as fundamentally transformational a set of events as the rise of the modern world. It was a revolution in human thought, operating outside any explanations grounded in scientific materialism, that drove the process.

That all these astonishing things happened within the conscious workings of human minds, functioning outside physical reality, offers further rational evidence, in my view, for the conclusion that human beings may well be made “in the image of [a] God.”

Different forms of worship

In his commencement address to Kenyon College in 2005, the American novelist and essayist David Foster Wallace said that: “Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship.”

Even though Karl Marx, for example, condemned the illusion of religion, his followers, ironically, worshiped Marxism. The American philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre thus wrote that for much of the 20th century, Marxism was the “historical successor of Christianity,” claiming to show the faithful the one correct path to a new heaven on Earth.

In several of my books, I have explored how Marxism and other such “economic religions” were characteristic of much of the modern age. So Christianity, I would argue, did not disappear as much as it reappeared in many such disguised forms of “secular religion.”
 
That the Christian essence, as arose out of Judaism, showed such great staying power amidst the extraordinary political, economic, intellectual and other radical changes of the modern age is another reason I offer for thinking that the existence of a god is very probable.
Robert H. Nelson, Professor of Public Policy, University of Maryland
This article was originally published on The Conversation.

Who are the Sufis and why does IS see them as threatening?

Injured people are evacuated from the scene of a militant attack on a mosque in northern Sinai, Egypt on Nov. 24, 2017. Associated Press

Over 200 people were killed and many more injured in an attack on a Sufi mosque in Egypt’s North Sinai region on Friday. The assault began with a bomb exploding as people were finishing their Friday prayers. As people fled and ambulances arrived, militants opened gunfire on them. It is the deadliest ever attack on civilians in Egypt’s modern history.

This is not the first time a cherished Sufi site and Sufi worshipers have been the target of extremists. Earlier this year, in February, a bomb exploded at the tomb of a Sufi saint, Lal Shahbaz Qalandar, in southeastern Pakistan. In 2016, combatants of the so-called Islamic State distributed images of the supposed execution of a Sufi teacher. The same year, the Pakistani Taliban murdered a popular Sufi singer of Pakistan, Amjad Sabri. In 2010 the tomb of another Sufi saint Data Ganj Bakhsh was bombed in Pakistan.

In the past, IS has claimed responsibility for some attacks against Sufis and their institutions, although no one so far has claimed responsibility for Friday’s murderous assault.

As a scholar of Muslim and Hindu traditions, I’ve long appreciated the various and influential roles that Sufis and their tombs play in South Asian communities and many communities elsewhere in the world. From my perspective, the repercussions of the deplorable violence in Egypt and elsewhere go far beyond the scores of bodies strewn around the damaged shrine and the devastated families.
Many Muslims and non-Muslims around the globe celebrate Sufi saints and gather together for worship in their shrines. Such practices, however, do not conform to the Islamic ideologies of intolerant revivalist groups such as Islamic State. On the contrary, IS finds these practices threatening. Here’s why.

Who are the Sufis?

The origins of the word “Sufi” come from an Arabic term for wool (suf). It references the unrefined wool clothes long worn by ancient west Asian ascetics and points to a common quality ascribed to Sufis – austerity.

Commonly Muslims viewed this austerity as stemming from a sincere religious devotion that compelled the Sufi into a close, personal relationship with God, modeled on aspects of the Prophet Muhammad’s life. This often involved a more inward, contemplative focus than many other forms of Islamic practice.

Tomb of Data Ganj Bakhsh in Pakistan. Guilhem Vellut, CC BY

In some instances, Sufis challenged contemporary norms in order to shock their Muslim neighbors into more religiously intentional lives. For example, an eighth-century female Sufi saint, known popularly as Rabia al-Adawiyya, is said to have walked through her hometown of Basra, in modern-day Iraq, with a lit torch in one hand and a bucket of water in another. When asked why, she replied that she hoped to burn down heaven and douse hell’s fire so people would – without concern for reward or punishment – love God.

Others used poetry in order to express their devotion. For example, the famous 13th-century Persian poet and Sufi leader Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī relied upon themes of love and desire to communicate the yearning for a heartfelt relationship with God. Yet others, such as such as Data Ganj Bakhsh, an 11th-century Sufi, wrote dense philosophical tracts that used complicated theological arguments to explain Sufi concepts to Islamic scholars.

Sufi veneration

Many Sufis are trained in “tariqas” (brotherhoods) in which teachers carefully shape students.
Rumi, for example, founded the famous “Mevlevi” order best known as “whirling dervishes” for their signature performance.

This is a ritual in which practitioners deepen their relationship with God through a twirling dance intended to evoke a religious experience.

Some Sufis – men and, sometimes, women – came to gain such a reputation for their insight and miracles that they were seen to be guides and healers for the community. The miracles associated with them may have been performed in life or after death.

When some of these Sufis died, common folk came to view their tombs as places emanating “baraka,” a term connoting “blessing,” “power” and “presence.” Some devotees considered the baraka as boosting their prayers, while others considered it a miraculous energy that could be absorbed from proximity with the shrine.

For the devotees, the tombs-turned-shrines are places where God gives special attention to prayers. However, some devotees go so far as to pray for the deceased Sufi’s personal intercession.

A place of interfaith worship?

So, why do some groups like the so-called Islamic State violently oppose them?

I argue, there are two reasons: First, some Sufis – as illustrated by Rabia, the Sufi from Basra – deliberately flout the Islamic conventions of their peers, which causes many in their communities to condemn their unorthodox views and practices.

Second, many Muslims, not just militants, consider shrine devotion as superstitious and idolatrous. The popularity among Muslims and non-Muslims of tomb veneration alarms many conservative Muslims.

When a Sufi tomb grows in reputation for its miraculous powers, then an increasing number of people begin to frequent it to seek blessings. The tombs often become a gathering place for Hindus, Christians, Sikhs and people from other faiths.

In South Asia, special songs of praise – “qawwali” – are sung at these shrines that express Islamic values using the imagery of love and devotion. In other regions, other traditions of devotion have emerged, while zikr (“litany recitation”) is widely popular.

However, despite the divergent ideologies and goals that differentiate them from one another, intolerant Islamist groups such as the Taliban and the so-called Islamic State reject shrine worship as well as dancing and singing as un-Islamic (hence the Pakistani Taliban’s assassination of the world-famous qawwali singer Amjad Sabri). In their view, prayers to Sufis are idolatrous.

Success of Sufi traditions

Sufi customs reflect a vastly underreported quality about Islamic traditions in general. While some revivalist Muslim movements such as the Wahhabis and other Salafis see only one way of being Muslim, there are others who embrace the diversity of Islamic traditions.

Many Muslims proudly defend Sufi customs such as shrine devotions because they are so integral to Muslim and non-Muslim communities, not only in South Asia but in various regions of the world. Today, about 15 percent of Egypt’s population belong to Sufi orders or practice Sufi traditions. They play crucial roles in their locale and region. For many, Sufi sites offer an Islamic expression of what it means to love God.

In fact, historically, in many regions of the world Sufis have been highly successful in adapting Islamic theologies and practices to local customs for non-Muslims. For this reason, Sufi traditions have been credited for the majority of conversions to Islam in South Asia.
 
It is only with the global expansion of Islamist revivalist groups in the last century that the urge to absolute conformity has become so strong and pervasive. Even so, a majority of Muslims continues to accept a diversity of Islamic practices.
 
Given the popularity of Sufis, it’s no wonder the so-called Islamic State objects to such models of Islamic pluralism. The ferocity of the recent attack in Egypt and possible involvement of a suicide bomber demonstrate not only the strength of beliefs in this regard, but also how influential IS and other extremists judge both the prominence and the popularity of Sufi traditions.
This is an updated version of a piece first published on Feb. 26, 2017.
Peter Gottschalk, Professor of Religion, Wesleyan University
This article was originally published on The Conversation.

Feeling guilty about drinking? Well, ask the saints

Pious drinking. Walter Dendy Sadler via Wikimedia Commons

Each year the holidays bring with them an increase in both the consumption of alcohol and concern about drinking’s harmful effects.
 
Alcohol abuse is no laughing matter, but is it sinful to drink and make merry, moderately and responsibly, during a holy season or at any other time?

As a historical theologian, I researched the role that pious Christians played in developing and producing alcohol. What I discovered was an astonishing history.

Religious orders and wine-making

Wine was invented 6,000 years before the birth of Christ, but it was monks who largely preserved viniculture in Europe. Religious orders such as the Benedictines and Jesuits became expert winemakers. They stopped only because their lands were confiscated in the 18th and 19th centuries by anti-Catholic governments such as the French Revolution’s Constituent Assembly and Germany’s Second Reich.

In order to celebrate the Eucharist, which requires the use of bread and wine, Catholic missionaries brought their knowledge of vine-growing with them to the New World. Wine grapes were first introduced to Alta California in 1779 by Saint Junipero Serra and his Franciscan brethren, laying the foundation for the California wine industry. A similar pattern emerged in Argentina, Chile and Australia.

Monks in a cellar. Joseph Haier 1816-1891, via Wikimedia Commons

Godly men not only preserved and promulgated oenology, or the study of wines; they also advanced it. One of the pioneers in the “méthode champenoise,” or the “traditional method” of making sparkling wine, was a Benedictine monk whose name now adorns one of the world’s finest champagnes: Dom Pérignon. According to a later legend, when he sampled his first batch in 1715, Pérignon cried out to his fellow monks:

“Brothers, come quickly. I am drinking stars!”

Monks and priests also found new uses for the grape. The Jesuits are credited with improving the process for making grappa in Italy and pisco in South America, both of which are grape brandies.

Beer in the cloister

And although beer may have been invented by the ancient Babylonians, it was perfected by the medieval monasteries that gave us brewing as we know it today. The oldest drawings of a modern brewery are from the Monastery of Saint Gall in Switzerland. The plans, which date back to A.D. 820, show three breweries – one for guests of the monastery, one for pilgrims and the poor, and one for the monks themselves.

One saint, Arnold of Soissons, who lived in the 11th century, has even been credited with inventing the filtration process. To this day and despite the proliferation of many outstanding microbreweries, the world’s finest beer is arguably still made within the cloister – specifically, within the cloister of a Trappist monastery.

Liquors and liqueurs

Equally impressive is the religious contribution to distilled spirits. Whiskey was invented by medieval Irish monks, who probably shared their knowledge with the Scots during their missions.

Monk sneaking a drink. Scanned from Den medeltida kokboken, Swedish translation of The Medieval Cookbook by Maggie Black, via Wikimedia Commons.

Chartreuse is widely considered the world’s best liqueur because of its extraordinary spectrum of distinct flavors and even medicinal benefits. Perfected by the Carthusian order almost 300 years ago, the recipe is known by only two monks at a time. The herbal liqueur Bénédictine D.O.M. is reputed to have been invented in 1510 by an Italian Benedictine named Dom Bernardo Vincelli to fortify and restore weary monks. And the cherry brandy known as Maraska liqueur was invented by Dominican apothecaries in the early 16th century.

Nor was ingenuity in alcohol a male-only domain. Carmelite sisters once produced an extract called “Carmelite water” that was used as a herbal tonic. The nuns no longer make this elixir, but another concoction of the convent survived and went on to become one of Mexico’s most popular holiday liqueurs – Rompope.

Made from vanilla, milk and eggs, Rompope was invented by Clarist nuns from the Spanish colonial city of Puebla, located southeast of Mexico City. According to one account, the nuns used egg whites to give the sacred art in their chapel a protective coating. Not wishing the leftover yolks to go to waste, they developed the recipe for this festive refreshment.

Health and community

So why such an impressive record of alcoholic creativity among the religious? I believe there are two underlying reasons.

First, the conditions were right for it. Monastic communities and similar religious orders possessed all of the qualities necessary for producing fine alcoholic beverages. They had vast tracts of land for planting grapes or barley, a long institutional memory through which special knowledge could be handed down and perfected, a facility for teamwork and a commitment to excellence in even the smallest of chores as a means of glorifying God.

Historically, alcohol was seen to be promoting health. Fritz Wagner (1896-1939) (Dorotheum) , via Wikimedia Commons

Second, it is easy to forget in our current age that for much of human history, alcohol was instrumental in promoting health. Water sources often carried dangerous pathogens, and so small amounts of alcohol would be mixed with water to kill the germs therein.

Roman soldiers, for example, were given a daily allowance of wine, not in order to get drunk but to purify whatever water they found on campaign. And two bishops, Saint Arnulf of Metz and Saint Arnold of Soissons, are credited with saving hundreds from a plague because they admonished their flock to drink beer instead of water. Whiskey, herbal liqueurs and even bitters were likewise invented for medicinal reasons.

And if beer can save souls from pestilence, no wonder the Church has a special blessing for it that begins:

“O Lord, bless this creature beer, which by Your kindness and power has been produced from kernels of grain, and may it be a health-giving drink for mankind.”

Michael Foley, Associate Professor of Patristics, Baylor University
This article was originally published on The Conversation.

What Chinese philosophers can teach us about dealing with our own grief

Confucius sculpture, Nanjing, China. Kevinsmithnyc, via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

November 2 is All Souls’ Day, when many Christians honor the dead. As much as we all know about the inevitability of death, we are often unable to deal with the loss of a loved one.

Our modern-day worldview could also make us believe that loss is something we should be able to quickly get over, to move on with our lives. Many of us see grieving as a kind of impediment to our ability to work, live and thrive.

As a scholar of Chinese philosophy, I spend much of my time reading, translating and interpreting early Chinese texts. It is clear that dealing with loss was a major concern for early Chinese philosophers.

So, what can we learn from them today?

Eliminating grief

Zhuangzi butterfly dream. Ike no Taiga (Japan, 1723-1776), via Wikimedia Commons

Two influential philosophers who reflected on these issues were Zhuang Zhou and Confucius. Zhuang Zhou lived in the fourth century B.C. and is traditionally credited with writing one of the most important texts of the Daoist philosophy, “Zhuangzi.” Confucius, who lived more than a century before Zhuang Zhou, had his teachings compiled in a text written by later students, commonly known in the West as the “Analects of Confucius.”
 
On the face of it, these two philosophers offer very different responses to the “problem” of death.
Zhuang Zhou offers us a way to eliminate grief, seemingly consistent with the desire to quickly get beyond loss. In one story, Zhuang Zhou’s friend Hui Shi meets him just after Zhuang Zhou’s wife of many years has died. He finds Zhuang Zhou singing joyously and beating on a drum. Hui Shi upbraids him and says:

“This person lived with you for many years, and grew old and died. To fail to shed tears is bad enough, but to also beat on drums and sing – is this not inappropriate?”

Zhuang Zhou replies that when his wife first died, he was as upset as anyone would be following such a loss. But then he reflected on the circumstances of her origins – how she came to be through changes in the elements that make up the cosmos. He was able to shift his vision from seeing things from the narrowly human perspective to seeing them from the larger perspective of the world itself.

He realized that her death was just another of the changes of the myriad things constantly taking place in the world. Just as the seasons progress, human life generates and decays.
In reflecting on life in this way, Zhuang Zhou’s grief disappeared.

Why we need grief

Analects. Confucius and his disciples, via Wikimedia Commons

For Confucius, though, the pain of grief was a natural and necessary part of human life. It demonstrates commitment to those for whom we grieve.

Confucius suggests a three-year mourning period following the death of one’s parent. In a passage from the Analects, one of Confucius’s students, Zaiwo, asks him if it is possible to shorten this mourning period, which seems excessively long.

Confucius responds that a person who honestly cared about his parent would simply be unable to bring himself to mourn in any less serious way. For such a person, the usual joys of life just had no attraction for three years. If, like Zaiwo, someone considers shortening this period, it reveals for Confucius a lack of sufficient concern. Early Confucians, thus, followed this practice of a three-year mourning period.

Remembering our ancestors

There is more to the Confucian response to death than grief. Our encounter with others inevitably changes us. Those closest to us, according to the early Confucians, particularly family members, play the greatest role in determining who we are. In that sense, we are representatives of particular communities than detached and autonomous individuals.

After all, many of our physical features and personalities originate from our ancestors. In addition, we learn many of our attitudes, preferences and characteristic ways of acting from our families, friends and neighbors – the creators of our culture. So, when we consider the question of what we are as individuals, the answer necessarily encompasses members of our closest community.

A Chinese funeral. Scan by NYPL, via Wikimedia Commons

According to the early Confucians, this acknowledgment suggested how to deal with the death of those close to us. To grieve was to honor your parent or another person who died and to commit to following their way of life .

Even if their way of life involved flaws, Confucius notes that individuals were still duty-bound to follow their way while doing their best to eliminate the flaws. In Analects 4.18, Confucius says:

“In serving your parents, you may lightly remonstrate [if your parents stray from the virtuous way]. But even if your parents are intent on not following your advice, you should still remain respectful and not turn away from them.”

Developing an understanding of grief

So how do the seemingly contrasting Daoist and Confucian approaches to grief apply to us today?
From my perspective, both views are helpful. Zhuangzi does not eliminate grief, but offers a way out of it. The Daoist response could help people find peace of mind by cultivating the ability to see the death of loved ones from a broader perspective.

The Confucian response could challenge assumptions that devalue grief. It offers us a way to find meaning in our grief. It reveals our communal influences, tests our commitments and focuses us on the ways in which we represent and carry on those who influenced us and came before us.

Ultimately, both philosophers help us understand that enduring grief is a necessary part of the process of becoming a fully thriving person. It is not something we should look to eliminate, but rather something we should appreciate or even be thankful for.

Alexus McLeod, Associate Professor of Philosophy and Asian/Asian American Studies, University of Connecticut
This article was originally published on The Conversation.

Why media freedom remains fragile in South Africa

Demonstrators protest against the decision by the South African Broadcasting Corporation to stop airing violent protest scenes. Reuters/Mike Hutchings

Four decades after the Black Wednesday crackdown on the media and the black consciousness movement, South Africa is a different country. Freedom of expression is guaranteed in the constitution and a slew of institutions and laws support the guarantee. At the same time, powerful groups continue to seek ways to limit and undermine journalism.

On October 19, 1977, two South African newspapers - World and Weekend World - and a church journal - Pro Veritate - were closed, journalists were banned and detained and some 18 organisations of the black consciousness movement were banned. Since then, the country’s journalists have marked the day as Media Freedom Day.

The 1977 crackdown went further than even the apartheid cabinet of the time had decided: cabinet minutes from the day before, laboriously written in longhand in leather-covered volumes held in the national archives, record the decision that the World newspaper “be suspended for a week” and that the editor Percy Qoboza and others be detained. The Weekend World is not mentioned.

In fact, both papers were banned permanently. There are other differences: the list of organisations actually closed is much longer than was decided by Prime Minister BJ Vorster’s cabinet.

One can speculate about the reasons for the difference between decision and implementation – perhaps the powerful apartheid police simply thought they knew better than their political bosses.
Black Wednesday remains a particularly brutal act of repression in a long line of attempts to silence critical media voices. There have been many victims, before and since.

What’s clear is that the battle for media freedom in South Africa isn’t over. Attacks on journalists continue – whether in the form of physical intimidation or through the threat of new legal measures that seek to restrict the media’s ability to do its job. And the online world has opened up new frontiers that need defending.

Targeting journalists

Journalism is under attack from a number of quarters.
A number of laws and bills contain problematical provisions. The board of the World Association of Newspapers and News Publishers, who met in Durban in June, highlighted concerns with bills on cybersecurity, hate crimes and films and publications as infringing on media freedom.

Then there’s the Protection of State Information Bill (generally called the
Secrecy Bill, whose problematical provisions include an overly broad definition of the national interest and which would severely restrict the freedom to report. The bill was passed in 2013 but is still awaiting signature on President Jacob Zuma’s desk.

There also appears to be a concerted move to reopen the debate around a Media Appeals Tribunal through a parliamentary inquiry, which would subject the media to regulation by Parliament.
Also, this year has seen attempts to intimidate and threaten journalists, most notably by Black First Land First (BLF) and other proxies in what has become known as the state capture project. This has involved attempts by powerful individuals and groups to shape South Africa’s political and economic landscape through corrupt relationships and deals to benefit their own private interests. After BLF’s protest at the home of former Business Day editor Peter Bruce in June turned violent, the South African National Editors Forum obtained a court interdict against the organisation and its leader Andile Mngxitama. As the forum’s chairperson Mahlatse Gallens pointed out in her response to the court ruling:

They have specifically targeted journalists that have done in-depth reporting on allegations of corruption and state capture. We will not be deterred.

These kinds of attacks attest to the strength and importance of journalism in present-day South Africa. From exposes on the Nkandla scandal to the Gupta emails, which detailed the extent of state capture, journalistic investigations have set the public agenda. Government ministers have been forced to account and international corporations have been ruined following exposure of their complicity.

When around 1000 of the world’s investigative journalists gather for the Global Investigative Journalism Conference at Wits University in a few weeks – the first time the event is held in Africa - the South African experience will be of considerable interest.

Media freedom in a changed era

Attacks and threats to media freedom are a mark of the importance of journalism, but the effects are felt by the citizenry at large. As the Council of Europe pointed out in a paper on protecting journalists, interference with media freedom

is simultaneously an interference with the public’s right to receive information or ideas.

The constitutionally guaranteed right to free expression is mainly about citizens’ right to be informed; journalists hold it in trust for the broader public. Journalism and its organisations have not always been successful in making that point clear.

Seen in that light, the media freedom discussion needs to broaden out and take into account developments which do not amount to direct attempts to harass journalists, but damage their ability to do this important work in other ways.

The long-standing business model of journalistic media is in terminal decline as audiences move to online and social media. Legacy media companies are under intense financial pressure and staffing levels in newsrooms keep dropping. Investment in the time and effort to do journalism of quality is way down.

At the same time, the growth of online platforms has led to an explosion of available information. In many senses, this has been positive, but it has also opened the door to abuse. The campaign in support of state capture involved the extensive use of social media for cyber-bullying and to create the illusion of a groundswell of opinion that does not exist.

The use of information as a weapon is not new - propaganda is as old as the hills, and South African political and factional campaigns have often made use of leaks as a form of warfare. But we seem to be entering a new phase where it becomes harder and harder to distinguish real exposes from the false kind. Some journalists and media outlets, in some cases liberally supported by public funding, are allowing themselves to be used for factional ends.

Trust is journalism’s most valuable asset. In an era of fake news, that trust is harmed not only by what the media themselves may do, but by what is done by pedlars of misinformation, who are often hard to distinguish from professional journalists.

A loss of trust may in the long run cause more harm to journalism than the repressive tactics of past decades.
Franz Krüger, Adjunct Professor of Journalism and Director of the Wits Radio Academy, University of the Witwatersrand
This article was originally published on The Conversation.

The Egg: This Short Story Is The Most Powerful Thing You Will Ever Read

 

The Egg by Andy Wier is a beautiful short story about death and life. It is written plainly, touching on the value and purpose of the human condition.

A fictional tale, it features a conversation between a recently deceased 'you' and a person that introduces himself as 'God'. The dialogue is very relaxed and sincere. The conversation explains and reviews basic global precepts about the meaning of life and what happens when you die.

The conversation plays out like two friends in front of a coffee shop. Its steady pace, and concise language bring a constant flow from idea to idea. I don't want to spoil any of the nuances and revelations, but I can tell you some of the aspects covered. Which religion was the 'right' religion, is there a heaven or hell, what is the purpose of life, why create humans and the connection between our maker and us are revealed.

 

This story personally fits my weird, personal mash-ups of belief eriely well. It was really exciting to see so many ideas I mull in my head on a daily basis, so perfectly summed up in an adorable and well organized dialogue. It turns out a handful of my friends had read the story as well. The story became a platform for us to probe eachother's beliefs and ideas in a way that helped us relate to ouir distinctive truths and perception.

The story is under one thousand words, maybe a five to ten minute read. Its message is universal, not disrespecting or belittling any philosophy or religion. I strongly recommend it, not only in a recreational sense but in a way to expand your awareness of the universe's potential.

Andy Weir has been writing science fiction on his website since the mid 1980's. The Egg was his first widely recognized published story. It has been translated into over thirty languages and even has a short film tailored after it by Sam Meacock, starring Harrison Lee and Philip Hope. Another published work of his that gained a lot of attention was his novel The Martian, which was adapted into the 2015 blockbuster featuring Matt Damon. You can read his collected works here.

 

The Egg – Andy Weir

You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that's when you met me.
"What… what happened?" You asked. "Where am I?"
"You died," I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
"There was a… a truck and it was skidding…"
"Yup," I said.
"I… I died?"
"Yup. But don't feel bad about it. Everyone dies," I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is this the afterlife?"
"More or less," I said.
"Are you god?" You asked.
"Yup," I replied. "I'm God."
"My kids… my wife," you said.
"What about them?"
"Will they be all right?"
"That's what I like to see," I said. "You just died and your main concern is for your family. That's good stuff right there."
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn't look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
"Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn't have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any consolation, she'll feel very guilty for feeling relieved."
"Oh," you said. "So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?"
"Neither," I said. "You'll be reincarnated."
"Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right,"
"All religions are right in their own way," I said. "Walk with me."
You followed along as we strode through the void. "Where are we going?"
"Nowhere in particular," I said. "It's just nice to walk while we talk."
"So what's the point, then?" You asked. "When I get reborn, I'll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won't matter."
"Not so!" I said. "You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don't remember them right now."
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. "Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it's hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you've gained all the experiences it had.
"You've been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven't stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you'd start remembering everything. But there's no point to doing that between each life."
"How many times have I been reincarnated, then?"
"Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives." I said. "This time around, you'll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD."
"Wait, what?" You stammered. "You're sending me back in time?"
"Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from."
"Where you come from?" You said.
"Oh sure," I explained "I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you'll want to know what it's like there, but honestly you wouldn't understand."
"Oh," you said, a little let down. "But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point."
"Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don't even know it's happening."
"So what's the point of it all?"
"Seriously?" I asked. "Seriously? You're asking me for the meaning of life? Isn't that a little stereotypical?"
"Well it's a reasonable question," you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. "The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature."
"You mean mankind? You want us to mature?"
"No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect."
"Just me? What about everyone else?"
"There is no one else," I said. "In this universe, there's just you and me."
You stared blankly at me. "But all the people on earth…"
"All you. Different incarnations of you."
"Wait. I'm everyone!?"
"Now you're getting it," I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
"I'm every human being who ever lived?"
"Or who will ever live, yes."
"I'm Abraham Lincoln?"
"And you're John Wilkes Booth, too," I added.
"I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.
"And you're the millions he killed."
"I'm Jesus?"
"And you're everyone who followed him."
You fell silent.
"Every time you victimized someone," I said, "you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you."
You thought for a long time.
"Why?" You asked me. "Why do all this?"
"Because someday, you will become like me. Because that's what you are. You're one of my kind. You're my child."
"Whoa," you said, incredulous. "You mean I'm a god?"
"No. Not yet. You're a fetus. You're still growing. Once you've lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born."
"So the whole universe," you said, "it's just…"
"An egg." I answered. "Now it's time for you to move on to your next life."
And I sent you on your way.

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3 things every believer needs to do before Christ comes back

The Lord Jesus Christ is coming back real soon, at a time we don't really know. What we do know is that He's coming back and while He hasn't returned yet, we can still do something that would make Him happy.

With that, I would like to encourage all of us who are longing for His return to make the most of our stay here by enjoying our earthly lives in doing His will. To help you with that, here are some things you should not miss out on doing before Christ comes back.

1) Preach the Gospel to everyone you know

This is so exciting. As we preach the Gospel and make disciples of Christ, we get to become His lips, hands and feet for those who don't know Him yet. And as we do that, He goes with us too!

"Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." Amen." (Matthew 28:19-20)

2) Co-labor with Christ in the work of salvation

Jesus promised that as we go and preach the Gospel to every creature, we will get to see signs and wonders. These signs are proof that He is alive and is with us as we go and do what He said according to Matthew 28 (see above). When we obey Him, the signs show that we are co-laboring with Him in bringing the Good News to all.

"He said to them, "Go into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He who believes and is baptized will be saved. But he who does not believe will be condemned. These signs will accompany those who believe: In My name they will cast out demons; they will speak with new tongues; they will take up serpents; if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover."" (Mark 16:15-18)

3) Love your fellow believers in Christ

Lastly, we should grow in our love for fellow believers. The Lord Jesus said according to John 13:34-35,

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another."

Our lives are indeed short, but it will be very significant if we show love for God and the people He loves. Because we love Him, we also love our fellow believers – and the love that we have for each other reveals God to those who don't know Him.

Be eager for His return!

Friends, I urge you, let's all be eager to meet Christ when He returns. Let's do all that He commanded us to do so that when He comes back, we'll make Him really happy.

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