How We Choose what to Believe – Narratives and Rationality

Every moment we find ourselves alive, two questions drive us: What should we do, and what should we believe? When looking for answers, we find narratives, stories about existence and right and wrong. Many narratives gel with one another, and many contradict. Our natural method for evaluating narratives is by our narrative senses, coherence and fidelity.

If that sounded like Greek, let me explain with a type of narrative that is easy to understand: fiction. Despite fictional stories being made-up, there are things about them that “ring true,” specifically the parts that are coherent and fidelitous. Coherence is how well the elements of the story fit together and remain true to themselves, like the believability of the characters and the consistency of the science and magic. The fidelity of the story is how well it resonates with our values, like when the characters act heroically, or when its exploration of the themes includes views we sympathize with.

That’s fine for stories, but what about real life? We might naively believe we see the world in terms of facts. On the contrary, our view of the world is colored by layer upon layer of narrative, with facts getting only the smallest amount of our attention. It is our first instinct to apply our narrative senses to everything we hear, from religion to politics to science. We think we’re good at determining what is true, that we and those who believe as we do have a knack for common sense.

But this “common sense” is really just our narrative senses telling us what feels true. If we want to know what is true, we need to change the way we evaluate narratives. A method that keeps us focused on our goals and the relevant facts. We need rationality.

Rationality is the practice of forming beliefs through observation and logic. By anchoring ourselves to evidence and mathematical thinking, we can overcome the pull of narratives, and follow truth wherever it leads. Rational thinkers recognize that almost everything is more complicated than they know. They arrive at their beliefs by knowing their values, and assessing facts and possibilities to best act in accordance with those values. They keep their minds open to be changed by good counter-arguments, recognizing the difference between having a solid foundation for their beliefs and being stubborn.

I’m sure this came as no surprise. Of course we should be rational, not chase after what feels true. But knowing this in our heads and putting it into practice are very different things. It is human nature to believe ourselves much more rational than we really are. Rationality is a skill, requiring constant exercise. Our natural method of determining truth is our narrative senses, and unless we admit this about ourselves, it is likely we are not very rational at all.

I grew up believing the Earth was created six thousand years ago. I also believed myself to be rational. My mind changed a few years after I started college, and I became obsessed with the question, “Why do people believe things when there is clear and easily accessible evidence to the contrary?” You could say it has been one of the overarching themes of this blog. And now, I’ve found a narrative that just might be the answer: Rationality is not natural. The only reason anyone is rational is because they stumbled upon the rationality narrative, and it appealed to their narrative senses.

If you truly understand this, if comprehension sinks into your bones, then you see how profound the implications of this statement are. Narratives are everywhere, and their persuasive power does not necessarily have anything to do with how truthful or rational they are. Our views of the world are shaped by narratives about morality, human nature, religion, science, the nature of reality, the structure of society, justice, honor, history, and the list goes on and on. Many of these narratives use dirty tactics to appeal to our narrative senses and shield us from the rationality that would show us how hollow they are. Here are some to watch out for.

1. Trying to take control of the space of ideas allowed by language. Narratives do this by changing the meanings of words, making words taboo, or introducing new ideas in such a way as to feed the narrative. For instance, they might fiddle around with the definitions of “truth” and “rationality” to confuse people into believing the narrative is rational when it is not.

2. Pointing to individuals or groups as scapegoats. This is an effective tactic to redirect doubt and discomfort from the narrative. After all, if you’re convinced the immigrants, or the homosexuals, or the straight white men are the ones causing you problems, then you feel less need to question the narrative.

3. Treating faith in and loyalty to the narrative as virtues. If something doesn’t make sense, this kind of narrative would say, don’t worry, it’s still true; it’s just beyond your comprehension right now. This makes people feel small and insignificant, and it can be especially depressing when one believes everyone around them understands, and they are the only one who does not.

4. Using guilt and shame. Making people feel they are bad or worthless unless they espouse the views of the narrative and act in accordance with its rules. Double points if the rules are vague and contradictory.

5. Viewing interactions with people who disagree with the narrative as fights. This attitude stimulates our deep-seated light versus dark mentality, where the light is the Truth (i.e. the narrative) and the darkness is doubt, questioning, and the hearts of those who would lead you astray. Less dramatically, it manifests in the idea of using arguments to “defend your beliefs.” Discussions about beliefs should be had with an open mind and a desire to learn, not to further cement yourself into what you already believe.

6. Presenting themselves as the only alternative to another narrative which is clearly bogus. If you see the world as us versus them, and realize the “us” part has problems, the “them” starts to look pretty good. It’s the false dichotomy fallacy. If you look, you will find plenty of other narratives to choose from, and perhaps even forge your own.

Some people craft and perpetuate narratives like this for the sake of power. Others spread these narratives because they honestly believe them to be true. We find ourselves in a world full of narratives that have almost taken on a life of their own, competing with each other for dominance. Being pulled to and fro from every direction, it is so easy to get lost in the currents of narrative, forgetting our skepticism and rationality. Nevertheless, it is worth it to remain steadfast to yourself, even when the path of reason seems to disappear.

If you find your own way, forming your own narrative, observing the world around you and taking the rational and good parts from other narratives, then you will find a kind of confidence that cannot be found any other way. It won’t be a straight shot to the truth. In fact, you will constantly be making adjustments as new information comes in or you see connections or contradictions you missed before. But the goal is not to have the “right” view of things, it is to get ever closer to truth and wisdom. And having a solid structure you built yourself, which you keep crafting and tweaking and making more beautiful, is so much more satisfying than merely trusting in the stories you have been told.

Economics: Motivations and Incentives – Take 2

Economics:
The Purpose of the Economy
A Problem-Solving Mindset
Production and Distribution
Motivations and Incentives
Inequality

While reading over the past entries in the Economics series, I found the previous discussion of motivations and incentives was too narrow. So I decided to rewrite it, making it more general, and adding in a few more thought I’d had since then. I’m actually happy about backtracking like this, because the whole point of this series is to journal my economic views as I construct them, and things like this happen. So here we go, a new and improved version of Economics part 4.

In order for an economy to run, work must be done. Producing and distributing goods and services takes labor and organization. So naturally, the question arises, what motivates people to do these things?

The most common motivation for individuals throughout history, past and present, is the threat of poverty and starvation. You work, you get paid, you pay your bills. But given the opportunity, people will also work for other reasons. Some like the promise of wealth and moving up in the hierarchies of society. Others work because it provides joy and purpose to their lives. Still others have a strong sense of duty, and cannot rest unless they have given their fair share of effort toward supporting society. Others see problems in society, and their compassion moves them to help.

People also generally like to do what is right, especially if it is easy. For instance, if recycling means taking a load of trash in your car to a facility twenty miles away, not very many people will recycle. However, if there are conveniently-placed blue bins all over the place that somebody else takes care of, almost everybody will recycle.

Individual workers are not the primary drivers of the economy, though. The real economic power is in organizations: businesses, corporations, cooperatives, governments, fiefdoms, and plenty of others I haven’t thought of. Although these organizations are run by people, they can be treated as if they have their own motivations. It is an emergent phenomenon.

Like individuals, organizations have a diverse range of motivations. These could be to provide high-quality services, to solve problems for humanity, or to gain economic power (profit, in modern society). Here we find a feedback loop. If an organization makes it its goal to gain more economic power, it will become more powerful than organizations that value other things. Therefore, the organizations that have the most influence over the economy are naturally going to be the ones that prioritize accruing economic power.

This can lead to all kinds of practices that are not in alignment with the greater purpose of the economy, to provide people with what they need in order to pursue fulfilling lives. These organizations might form cartels, agreements between producers of a certain commodity to raise prices ridiculously high. They might buy out competing companies, becoming monopolies with total control over a market. They might leverage governmental influence in their favor, either through lobbying or direct political power. And they do whatever they can to raise prices and lower wages.

Organizations aiming to increase economic power can also cause collateral damage. Pollution, for instance. If it is more cost-effective to dump chemicals in the river than to properly dispose of them, such an organization is going to dump them in the river. Damage caused in this way might be temporary, or it might build up over long periods of time and cause serious damage later on. Even when it is best for all organizations in the economy collectively if they don’t cause collateral damage, it is often more advantageous for each individually to do so, no matter what the others do. In game theoretical terms, this is called a Prisoner’s Dilemma.

No matter what kind of economy we live in, we want to mitigate these negative effects of power-seeking organizations that inevitably rise to the top. Luckily, there are ways to do this. If a large number of people come together in a social movement and refuse to use a certain provider’s product or service, the organization will lose out unless they change their behavior. Workers can band together in unions to demand more reasonable wages and benefits. And the government can add incentives, like minimum wages, taxes, subsidies, regulations, and plenty of others.

It is important to note, however, that things are not black and white. It is not simply the good people versus the bad forces of the economy. Strong economies do a lot of good for humanity, and we want the Elon Musks of the world to be able to do their thing. The key is smart legislation. It is not enough to simply be “for people.” When coming up with policies, it is important to make decisions based on data and science, so we can be sure they will actually do the good we want them to do.

Loki's Game – The Well of Images Part 5

Read “Loki’s Game” at WritersCafe.org.

It is finished! The final chapter in The Mentor, the Hero, and the Trickster is written, reviewed, and posted on WritersCafe. It is time for Samuel and Hope’s confrontation with the Deceiver. What is he planning, and what chance do our heroes have if they play his game?

Having just written the end of a story, I thought I might take some time to talk about the art of writing endings. What makes an ending satisfying? What is the difference between something like Persona 5, which ended in a train wreck; Kingdom Hearts 3, whose ending was so-so; and Avengers: Endgame, which was amazing?

Endings are hard. It is not enough to just wrap up the plot threads and stop writing. An ending needs to make good on all of the emotional promises made throughout the book. It has to take all of the themes, all of the interesting things that makes the story unique, and fill them out to their full potential. To write a good ending, a writer must remain in tune with the feeling of the story.

When outlining “Loki’s Game,” I made a list at the top of the page of all of the things that had been introduced during the previous parts and needed to make an appearance. Then I looked at the list, and figured out where in the story each entry needed to be. Some, I knew, had to happen at the climax. Some had to happen at important moments. Some had to be used as foreshadowing. And a few just needed to be put in wherever they fit best.

How did I know which was which? First, I knew that I had to include everything that made my story unique. This meant, of course, everything that makes the Unconscious Realms different from Reality and from magical worlds in other stories. This meant there had to be archetypes, symbolism, and magic, the characters had to travel to new realms, they had to use their waking eyes and return beacons, and all of that good stuff. For the climax, everything that gave the plot tension had to come to a height. This meant everything related to Samuel’s hand infection and its consequences, the themes present through the rest of the story, and of course, a chess match with the Deceiver with a big final confrontation.

The Well of Images is not over. Hope and Samuel will return to the Unconscious Realms in book 2: Mind and Mirrors.

The Mentor, the Hero, and the Trickster:
1. Pandora’s Gate
2. Where Secrets Lie
3. Limits of the World
4. The Fool’s Gift
5. Loki’s Game

You can also find links to other stuff I’ve written here.

If you like my stories and/or blog posts, or if you’re not impressed but you believe in the spirit of amateurs doing what they love, I would love to have your support on Patreon. Even a gesture of as little as $1 / month would mean a lot to me.

Mind-Body Dualism

Consciousness:
The Hard Problem
Dualism
Physicalism
Idealism
Identifying Consciousness

Vast Minds

Identity, Self, and Other

The Question of Meaning

When asking what consciousness is, the first thing we tend to jump to is dualism, the idea that a person’s consciousness is something separate from their body, a soul or a spirit. Sometimes the soul is thought of as an indivisible object, unique for each person, hosting their personality, rationality, perceptions, memories, will, continuing self, and moral worth. Sometimes a soul is thought to be made of a fluid-like substance, which I like to call “soul stuff.” Either way, the soul is thought to be something fundamentally different from the other materials in the universe.

Do souls or soul stuff exist? To explore this, we first have to ask why so many people believe they do. There are two main reasons. The first is because they have been told it is true, by their parents, or religious leaders, or community folk knowledge. The second is because they feel like they are distinct from their body, which can be strengthened if they have had an out-of-body experience. I have had such experiences myself, the most recent of which was only a few months ago. Just as I was waking up one morning, I lifted my hand to scratch my nose, but I didn’t see it. I waved my hand in front of my face, but all I saw was the ceiling above me.

I could have jumped to the conclusion that my soul was moving around outside of my body. But a subjective experience is only evidence that the experience can be had. It is not evidence of anything mystical or metaphysical. Even while I was in the midst of my out-of-body experience, I remembered that the motor cortex in the brain is disconnected from the nervous system during dreams, and what I felt could be explained by the visual part of my brain waking up before my motor cortex, giving me the illusion that I was moving my arm when I was really not.

Of course, my answer is just a hypothesis based on stuff I’ve heard here and there, which is not sufficient evidence to rule out the possibility that I really was waving a spirit arm. So what would be sufficient evidence, either way? Some people believe the existence of a soul is a matter of faith, and it is not testable by scientific means. But does this claim make any sense? It is said that the soul is what makes decisions, controlling the body through the will. If this is the case, then it must exchange energy and momentum with the brain. Even if we grant the possibility that the soul itself is not detectable by any instrument we build, we would still be able to pick up on the bits of energy and momentum spontaneously appearing and disappearing as it exerts its control. Mind-body dualism can, in fact, be tested with the scientific method.

This brings us to a problem I have with the terminology. “Physicalism,” which we will discuss another time, implies consciousness is physical. “Dualism” implies consciousness is separate from physical reality. But if souls or soul stuff exist, and we detect them indirectly as I just mentioned, then scientists will expand the definition of “physical” to include it. The distinction between them is whether consciousness can be explained by what we already know about the universe or something else we haven’t detected yet, not whether it is physical.

There is one way that a soul might affect the brain without messing with its energy or momentum, and that is if we bring in quantum physics. I’ll put the usual disclaimer here: there are a lot of myths about quantum physics and consciousness, and all of them are false. Quantum physics is the study of things the size of atoms and smaller, nothing more. Nevertheless, I am going to talk about a possible way quantum physics and consciousness might be related.

At the size scale where quantum physics is relevant, particles behave probabilistically. Every possible interaction between particles comes with a specific probability, and conserves energy and momentum. We have no evidence to believe the workings of the brain involve quantum physics, but if they do, the soul may be able to exert willpower on the brain by changing the probabilities. Thus, it could control the body without having to worry about physical conservation laws.

This too, however, would be detectable. It would take more advanced technology, but in theory it could be done. If the brain uses quantum physics, we can run simulations to calculate the probabilities of events happening within it. Then, we measure what actually happens. If there is a significant deviation from the probabilities calculated, it is evidence a soul is interfering with them.

If neither of these pan out, there is one final option, which is truly impossible to detect by scientific means. That is if the soul is epiphenomenal, not affecting the brain at all, but just holding a copy of the brain’s perception and memory information. Because an epiphenomenal soul cannot affect the brain, it cannot house one’s personality, rationality, or will. These must instead be completely in the domain of the brain. However, this creates a big problem: if the soul cannot affect the brain, our brains should have no knowledge of it at all, and we shouldn’t be able to have this conversation! The fact that we can think and talk about consciousness suggests that whatever consciousness is, it does indeed affect the brain.

I do not claim to answer whether souls do or do not exist, at least not based on what we have talked about today. Rather, I claim that if souls exist and interact with the brain, then that interaction must be detectable by the scientific method. So much mental effort is expended by philosophers and theologians to hide the soul behind the veil of unfalsifiability, while at the same time insisting it must exist. Let’s stop with this magical thinking and open our minds to the possibility of using experimentation to determine the truth, whichever way it turns out to be.

Dead Stars

A month ago, we looked at the varieties of stars that can be found in the universe. But stars have a limited amount of fuel, and when it runs out, stuff happens. Exactly what happens depends on the mass of the star, and some of them are among the weirdest and most interesting things in the universe.

The most common stellar remnant by far is a white dwarf. White dwarfs are what we get when a star stops fusing its atoms and its matter settles down. In a white dwarf, the gravity is so strong and the pressure is so high that it runs into a physical limit called electron degeneracy. You may have learned in chemistry class that atoms have electron orbitals, sometimes called electron shells, which can only hold a certain number of electrons each. This is an example of electron degeneracy. In a white dwarf, the atoms' outer layers of electrons are unbound, moving freely around the material, and they are degenerate because they have the maximum density allowed by the laws of physics. Because of their variety of temperatures, white dwarfs are not necessarily white, but can also be yellow, orange, red, and brown.

Once our sun goes through all of its phases, it will become a white dwarf, slowly cooling down until the end of time.

There are ways to increase a white dwarf's pressure beyond the electron degeneracy limit. One of them is for it to be made of denser material. Some white dwarfs are made of helium, which has two protons and two electrons, neither of which are bound to it. Other white dwarfs are made of various mixtures of carbon, oxygen, neon, and magnesium, each of which is more dense and has more bound electrons not contributing to degeneracy.

The other way to increase the pressure is for gravity to be so strong that the electrons combine with the protons, making neutrons. When this happens, there is no more electrical repulsion, and all of the matter collapses to the density of an atomic nucleus, where neutron degeneracy once again makes things stable. You can probably guess what neutron degeneracy is; if electron degeneracy is what we get when we have the maximum density of electrons, neutron degeneracy is what we get when we have the maximum density of neutrons. A stellar remnant made of neutron degenerate matter is called a neutron star.

White dwarfs do not turn into neutron stars. Instead, we start out with a very massive star, which has enough pressure to fuse its atoms beyond the elements mentioned above. The higher the element number, the faster the fusion happens, until it reaches core collapse, which causes a supernova and leaves behind a neutron star.

When neutron stars are young, they shoot high-energy gets of light and other radiation from their magnetic poles. They are also spinning, and their rotational poles are not lined up with their magnetic poles. This means their jets spiral around in a pair of cones. If Earth is in the path of one of these jets, the neutron star appears to pulsate in the night sky. Because of this, we call this kind of neutron stars pulsars. Most pulsars rotate once every few seconds, but some are as fast as a few milliseconds.

By Kevin Gill on Flickr

Some neutron stars have the strongest known magnetic fields in the uinverse, strong enough to deform atoms. These neutron stars are called magnetars.

If a relatively small supernova makes a neutron star, what happens if we turn up the mass? If we explode progressively heavier supergiant stars, we get heavier and heavier neutron stars, until suddenly . . . there is nothing. The star explodes, leaving only empty space behind. According to supernova theory and observational data, there is a mass gap between neutron stars around three times the mass of the sun and our next type of stellar remnant at five times the mass of the sun. This heavier next type is what I’m sure you have been waiting for this whole blog post: black holes.

An ancient philosophical question goes like this: what happens when an immovable object encounters and unstoppable force? Well it turns out that there is no such thing as an immovable object, but gravity can get strong enough to become an unstoppable force. If enough mass gets crammed into a small enough space, not even neutron degeneracy can prevent it from collapsing down to an infinitesimal point called a singularity. A certain distance away from the singularity, called the event horizon, gravity switches between weak enough to escape from and too strong for anything to resist. The event horizon is the black ball we picture when we think about black holes. Black holes are so mind-bendingly fascinating that they deserve a whole discussion to themselves.

These are all of the stellar remnant types we have evidence for (and as of last month, I might add with pride, we have pictures to back all of them up). However, there are still more which are theorized to exist, either presently unobserved or far in the future.

It may be that between neutron stars and black holes, there is another stopping-off point. Neutrons are made of quarks, so perhaps quark degeneracy can stop the formation of a black hole when neutron degeneracy is not enough. Such an object would, unsurprisingly, be called a quark star. It is unknown whether this is possible; the only hint we have is the small amounts of quark-gluon plasma made in particle accelerators under completely different conditions than we would expect in quark stars.

Remember how we left white dwarfs cooling off indefinitely? One day, many eons in the future, white dwarf stars will have cooled so much that they no longer give off any visible light. Then, they will be called black dwarfs. The time it will take for white dwarfs to cool down this much is orders of magnitude longer than the current age of the universe.

Yet even black dwarfs are not the end state of stellar remnants. To find out why, we have to talk about nuclear fission and fusion. Radioactive materials break apart into lighter elements, each with its own half-life, the time it takes for roughly half of the atoms to decay. This is natural nuclear fission. Fusion happens when atoms fuse together into heavier elements, releasing energy. Now you might notice that I said both fission and fusion release energy. This is only true when the product has less mass per nucleon (less energy density) than what we started out with. Iron has the lightest mass per nucleon of all, so the elements lighter than iron fuse, and the elements heavier than iron fission.

When we talk about radioactivity, we say that some atoms heavier than iron are radioactive, and some are stable. When we talk about fusion, we imagine we need the pressures and temperatures at the core of a star. These are both not entirely true. High temperatures and pressures raise the probability of fusion, but that probability never goes to zero. Similarly, the “stable” heavier-than-iron elements have an extremely long, but not infinite, half-life. For us humans, it is true enough to say fusion requires enormous temperatures and pressures, and many heavy elements are stable.

But if we look ahead in the future, and I mean so far ahead that it might as well be infinite, we get a different story. Given an infinite amount of time, anything with a static non-zero probability is guaranteed to happen, no matter how small that probability is. On a large enough timescale, black dwarfs will fuse their atoms together into iron, and any elements heavier than iron will break apart into iron. Long after even the biggest black holes have evaporated, iron stars will be the last objects left in the universe.

Mathematics: The Language of the Universe

Nature of Reality:
Quasi-Realism
Representational Realism
Existence and Natures
Knowledge of Reality
The Language of Reality

Toolbelt of Knowledge: Concepts
Algorithms
Equivalence
Emergence
Math
The Anthropic Principle
Substrate-Independence
Significance

In our discussions about the nature of reality, we have come to the view that reality is a thing unto itself, independent of perception, belief, or knowledge. Anything we perceive or think we know about reality is not reality itself, but only a representation we have constructed in our minds. A representation is true to the degree that its logic matches with the logic of the real thing it is describing. Today, we are going to talk about that logic, mathematics.

By WyrdWolf on Deviantart

A lot of people see math as something mysterious that they will never understand. But math is not supernatural. It is not hidden knowledge available only to an elite few. People who know math are not wizards or prophets, they are normal people just like you. I hope that after reading this discussion, you will be convinced that you can learn math too, if you so desire.

To start, let’s forget about numbers and just think about something physical, like air pressure. We know from centuries of experiments that, the pressure in a given volume is proportional to the number of molecules in the volume and the temperature. This may sound complicated, but all it means is if more air is added or the temperature is increased, the pressure increases.

Let’s look at the italicized statement. We have four physical quantities: pressure, volume, number of molecules, and temperature. Let’s shorten each of these to just their first letters: P, V, N, and T. “Is proportional to” means if you change what comes after it, then what comes before it changes by the same percentage. We can represent this by an equals sign and a constant, the letter k. Put this together, and we have,

It’s an equation! We have just done something marvelous; we have taken a fact about reality and written it as a mathematical statement. By doing this, we realize a profound truth: math is not just a tool to work with numbers and get answers to homework problems; it’s a language and a writing system. By becoming math-literate, we break into a higher level of understanding the universe.

Let’s try it again. This time we’ll start with an equation, and figure out what it means.

The first thing we need when trying to read this equation is what the letters mean. In normal languages, letters have mostly the same sounds wherever they appear. In math, it is not so; we must be told what each letter means every time. It is the organization, operations, and numbers that have consistent meaning. So here is what the letters in our new equation mean: capital T stands for temperature, small t stands for time, and k is a constant.

What operations does this equation have? The first thing we notice is d/d. This means, the rate at which the thing on top changes as the thing on the bottom changes. So for us, it would be the rate the temperature changes over time. Next, we notice a triangle before the T on the right. This triangle means the difference between two of what comes after it. So in our case, ΔT means the difference between the temperatures of two objects.

Putting all this together, we can read the equation. It says, “The rate at which temperature flows between two touching objects is proportional to the difference in temperature between the two objects.” This means if two touching objects have very different temperatures, heat will flow quickly between them, but if their temperatures are near each other, the heat will flow slowly.

There is one final piece to the equation, and that is the minus sign. This tells us that the temperatures are changing closer to one another, not running away to extremes. This makes sense. Cold things heat up when they touch hot things, and hot things cool down when they touch cold things. Heat always flows toward equilibrium.

The ability to read equations is only one small part of math. There is also geometry, group theory, set theory, vectors, tensors, and much more. All of these fields of study are called the same thing, math, so what do they all have in common? The answer is that mathematics is the set of all well-defined abstract ideas that follow the principle of non-contradiction. To create math, we must declare one or more axioms, statements that define an imaginary object.

Let’s take an example. "A circle is a shape where every point on its boundary is the same distance from its center." Based on this axiom, we can figure out all kinds of things about lines drawn through circles, intersecting circles, circles in curved space, and more. Everything in math is like this; we start with axioms, and then use logic on them to figure out all that we can about them.

Philosophers and scientists have often wondered at how well math is able to describe the universe. To some, it seems miraculous. However, based on everything we have talked about in the Nature of Reality series, I think it makes perfect sense. Here’s why:

1) A representation is true to the degree that its logic lines up with the logic of the part of reality it is meant to represent.
2) An idea is a representation.
3) Reality is well-defined and always follows the principle of non-contradiction.
4) Every idea that is well-defined and follows non-contradiction is mathematical.
Therefore, everything in reality can be truthfully represented by mathematical ideas.

If we accept the views of reality we have argued for on this blog, this is why Mathematics is the language of the universe.

Types of Stars in the Universe

On a clear, dark night, stars fill the expanse of the sky. These tiny dots of light twinkle and shine, as if the canopy between Heaven and Earth were pricked by a million needles and the holy light of God were shining through. Ever since our distant ancestors separated from the chimpanzees, we have gazed at the Milky Way with awe, imbuing it with images and meaning and stories. The stars are among the most wondrous things in existence.

With the dawn of science, we learned that the stars are other suns, each with its own set of planets. Stars come in many sizes and colors, depending on what they are made of and how far along they are in their life cycle. A star’s light comes from its surface temperature, as it radiates its heat energy away. The hotter the star, the brighter it shines, and the higher the peak frequency of its light. It is the same as why metals glow when they are heated. In order of increasing temperature, we get red, orange, yellow, white, and then blue. Because of the distribution of the light radiated, and the way our eyes work, we will never find a green or purple star.

A star forms when the gas (mostly hydrogen) in a region of space becomes dense enough that its gravity causes it to collapse together. As it shrinks, the tiny bits of angular momentum here and there build up, causing it to swirl around and form a protoplanetary disk. Most of the gas clumps in the center, forming the star, and the rest eventually becomes planets, moons, and asteroids. While this is happening, the star is called a protostar.

Once all of the dust has settled, the star officially begins its life, and is called a main sequence star. The mass of the star determines how hot it is, and therefore its color. From low to high, we have red dwarfs, orange dwarfs, yellow dwarfs, and blue . . . giants. A star massive enough to shine blue at birth is too big to be called a dwarf.

Our sun is a yellow dwarf, although it’s actually white, not yellow. The reason it looks yellow, orange, or red when it is low in the sky is because Earth’s atmosphere scatters the shorter wavelengths. this is also why the daytime sky is blue.

There are also brown dwarfs, but they are a little different. Brown dwarfs are objects that ride the fuzzy line between stars and gas giant planets, only hot enough to glow a faint dark red. They are a little over ten times the mass of Jupiter, and a hudredth the mass of the sun.

Stars don’t stay as they are forever. As they fuse up their hydrogen, they expand. A lot. As in, orders of magnitude. Once their hydrogen is spent, they contract until the helium in their cores begins to fuse. As the helium runs low, they expand again. The cycle goes on a few more times. When stars are in their expansion phase, they are called giants, supergiants, or hypergiants depending on their masses, and their color shifts toward the red end of the spectrum. Some stars, however, are so blue that they remain blue even at their largest.

These are all the types of stars that we know about that are around today. However, despite the nearly 14 billion years the universe has been around, it is very young compared to how old it will get. The smaller a star, the slower it fuses its fuel, so the longer every stage of its life lasts. In fact, red dwarf stars are so slow that none of them have used up all of their hydrogen yet. Here’s where things get interesting. It is predicted that red dwarfs don’t expand like other stars. Instead, they get hotter and brighter, turning into blue dwarfs. I find it just amazing that some trillion years in the future, a star type the universe has never seen before will start to appear.

But wait, you say. We can’t be done with stars yet! We haven’t talked about white dwarf stars or neutron stars. And you are correct. The reason we haven’t talked about them today is because they are dead stars, and dead stars are interesting enough that I wanted to give them their own discussion.