Existential Threat

HS #57 2020.4.9

Existential Threat

“Existential threat.” No one has defined that term, but we have been hearing it lately.  Bernie Sanders uses it to describe global warming. Democratic leaders apply it to Trump. The current pandemic brings it front and center.  I take it to mean a threat that causes everyone to take stock of their own vulnerability and mortality. It is also a threat that alters our understanding of reality.

Existential threats are as old as human civilization.  What is the Old Testament if not a history of existential threats: The Flood, the bondage in Egypt, Goliath and the Philistines.   

 One of the most powerful, if less known, Old Testament accounts is when the King of Syria sends an army to capture the prophet Elisha. Elisha’s servant wakes and finds the city surrounded by enemy chariots. Seeing no hope for rescue, he cries to Elisha in terror.  The untroubled prophet asks God to “open his eyes.” Instantly the young man sees that between them and the enemy is an entire hillside of chariots of fire.  What a story! Interesting that it often takes an existential threat to help us see a different side of reality – to see something that has been there all along but hitherto invisible or unnoticed. 

In 1988 the Knickerbocker Theatre showed a four-star Norwegian movie, Pathfinder, based on a thousand-year-old Norse legend. Bands of marauders, Tchudes ravaged the frozen Scandinavian north country preying on settlers and plundering villages. 

In the opening scene a teenage boy escapes as his family is killed and eventually finds refuge in a distant hamlet. He laments to the venerable spiritual leader of the village, the Pathfinder, that he is now alone; he has no one. The Pathfinder counters: No, you are not alone – we are all bound together with invisible bonds. 

The young loner is captured by the Tchudes, but is saved by the Pathfinder who trades his own life to save the boy’s. With all hope lost, the young man tricks the Tchudes to their death in an avalanche, ostensibly sacrificing himself in the process. Witnesses claim in awe, “He gave his own life that we might live.”  As the community honors the death of their young savior, we then see the young man’s hand, as he, exhausted, pull himself out of the rubble as if rising from an Easter tomb.  Returning to the village, he announces, “The Tchudes will never harm us again.”  

An inspiring movie well worth watching – I have shown it to scores of friends.  The climax occurs with that two-letter word, “us”.  The young man, having thought he was alone in the world, has found a new community – a community that chooses him as their new Pathfinder. But more importantly, he fully realizes the truth of his mentor: We are all bound together. 

And this is the reality of which I have become more aware during the world’s current existential threat. Indeed, for better or worse, we ARE all bound together. 

Can we find stronger evidence? Perhaps last December as we were busy preparing Christmas dinners, someone in Wuhun China (had you ever heard of Wuhun?) bought an animal at a wet market (ever heard of a wet market?) for dinner. Unfortunately, the animal had likely been bitten by a bat which carried the coronavirus. (Ever heard of that virus?) Someone getting dinner on the other side of the globe has changed our world.  We, the human race, yea, all life on earth - we are connected. 

Last November I sent an email to a couple of friends: “Just back from my favorite walk to Kollen Park along 12th Street. As I was walking, I was thinking, "What a cool place to live - the earth, that is." Wanted to send a text to all other planets, "Hey, we're having a party of life here on planet earth!" Then as I passed your homes, I realized a big reason for the good times - it's folks like you. Glad to have you as friends.” 

I’m taking that same walk these days, but with an even deeper realization of our connectedness. We first learned it fifty years ago with the Apollo 8 mission: We all live together on a tiny  beautiful blue and white globe floating in the immensity of space.  We, all living things on earth, share the same DNA, the same ancestors, the same destiny. Let’s continue taking care of each other. We’re among friends. Let’s keep the party going. 

Counterintuitive Insights

HS #56 2020.3.12

Counterintuitive Insights

Recently I got into an oft-repeated conversation in the locker room of MVP Athletic Club. Several of us were getting dressed in one crowded aisle while the rest of the locker room was empty. So the inevitable comment: Here’s Murphy’s Law in action – the undesirable outcome happens most often. 

Actually, not the case. Most of the time, men (and presumably, women) are distributed throughout the locker room. We just notice the rare occasions when we’re bunched up. 

The situation illustrates a common mistake in perception. Humans are not very good at taking into account the entirety of our experience. A similar thing happens when folks attribute a streak of six three-point shots in a basketball game to a “hot hand.” Nope. It’s just going to happen every once in a while.  

Want some proof?  Suppose you had a fair (balanced) coin and you flipped it 30 times, what would the sequence of heads (H) and tails (T) look like? Try this: Write out a random sequence of 30 Hs and Ts. THEN, flip a coin thirty times and compare the sequences. Don’t continue reading until you have done it. 

Please – some of you haven’t done it yet. 

OK – Here’s my prediction: The ACTUAL sequence of heads and tails has a longer string of all heads or all tails than the random one you imagined. Am I correct? 

Humans don’t realize that randomness produces such strings as often as it does. Moreover, as with the locker room and hot streaks, we remember such things when they do happen.  But statistical analysis shows that these events happen about as often as probability would predict. 

In the examples above, events happened that we didn’t expect. Another mistake in perception occurs when we wrongly DO expect unlikely events to happen more often than they do. 

If you’re interested in evaluating your perception at this, take a break from reading this column and find a copy of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address (easily found online). The address has 268 words of various lengths. Pick out a sample of ten words that you think is representative of the entire collection. Then continue reading below. 

Do you have your ten words? How well did you sample?  Here are a couple ways to check: i) four of your words should be 3 letters or less. ii) six of them should be 4 letters or less, iii) the total number of letters in your ten words should be about 43.  I bet you didn’t have enough small words. Instead, your eye was drawn to the exceptions – the longer words. Am I correct? 

If so, then you, like the rest of us, focus on the exceptions – in this case the longer words. These noteworthy occurrences catch our attention and we mistakenly think they happen more often than they do.  And this tendency to think that the exceptional rare event will happen to us can have negative consequences. 

As a preteen and young teenager, I rode my bicycle all around town – exploring streams and railroad bridges, cemeteries and vacant lots. Only rule: be home in time for supper. My mom, who had no trouble worrying about colds and germs and wet hair, wasn’t concerned about me being abducted. What has changed over the years? Why aren’t there scores of young kids biking all around Holland? Have parents focused on the exceptions – those very rare but well-publicized cases around the country when a child is abducted? Look at the cost – the loss of “Tom Sawyer” adventures for millions.  (I keep an empty lot behind my house “wild” to allow neighborhood children a place to explore and have fun in a non-manicured setting.) Similarly, rare-but-publicized shark attacks keep beach goers from enjoyable vacations. 

This tendency to focus on the exception also contributes to why people are suckers for the lottery. We see via the media those rare lucky ones who win a jackpot and imagine it happening to us, but don’t see the millions who – over the space of a year - could have bought themselves tickets to a favorite event with the money. 

Loss of money and opportunity is bad enough,  but Hope psychology professor, David Myers, realized this tendency can have even more serious consequences. After the terrorist attack of 9/11, he predicted 800 more traffic deaths the following year as people flew less and drove more.  For although not as spectacular and news-making, the probability of death from car travel greatly exceeds that from flying. He was wrong. The difference was 1500. 

Walking in Another's Moccasins

HS #55 2020.2.13

Walking in Another’s Moccasins 

When I came to Holland thirty years ago, I taught and was a resident hall director (RD) at Hope College. An RD friend, Kama, occasionally pointed out the “male dominated” world in which we lived. I wasn’t convinced. Thought she was being overly sensitive. Then we went to a talk on feminism. The speaker, needing a personal pronoun, used “her” rather than “him.” That was fine. Then needed one again and again used, “her.” Well, OK. Then a third time, and used “her” yet again. I remember thinking, “Hey, I’m here too.” Yeouzza – mission accomplished. I had just gotten a tiny taste of what it is like for females to live in a male dominated world. 

Later that year, the RDs attended a workshop on self-defense. The speaker divided the blackboard down the middle and asked us men, “What do you do to protect yourself when you come out of Meijer at night?” We looked at each other in puzzlement. What was he talking about? Then he asked the women the same question and we watched in amazement as he filled up their side of the board with their replies: “Look under and around my car.” “Carry my keys between my knuckles.” “Have my finger on the mace.” “Stay with a friend.” Another life-changing moment as I realized that I lived in a totally different world than the women. 

Fast forward to 2008. Hope College shut down campus for a couple days due to the norovirus. Without a computer at home and needing to get work done, I took advantage of the computers in the library of Western Theological Seminary. Going home for lunch, I returned to a sign on their door, “Off limits to Hope College students and staff.” Made sense. Couldn’t blame them. But suddenly the Bible stories of unclean lepers took on new meaning. 

I’m still learning such lessons. Last year a black Davenport University student friend and I were eating pizza at Subs & More on 8^th Street when he mentioned we live in two different worlds. I asked him to explain. He said, “Well, if you went to the counter and told them something was wrong with your pizza, they would apologize and fix you another piece. If I complained, they would think I was trying to cheat them.” 

Interestingly, I got my greatest “aha” moment regarding blacks in America recently while listening to an NPR story on the Berlin Wall. Without intending it, the Allied forces of WWII conducted a scientific experiment when they randomly split Berlin in two. The city had been totally homogeneous: same ethnicity, religion, history, education, family names - same everything. Then it was suddenly split in two and subjected to different political systems for twenty-eight years – effectively one generation. Now, thirty years later, what’s the result after a concerted effort of reunification? Surprisingly, former East Germans complain of feeling like second-class citizens. Indeed, there are eighty institutions of higher education throughout Germany and not one of them has a president from former East Germany. 

If a homogeneous population can be turned into “haves” and “have nots” after just one generation and that condition persists after thirty years of a full-fledged attempt at establishing equity, is it any wonder that two hundred years of slavery followed by years of abuse leave blacks in the U.S. in a decidedly disadvantaged situation. 

Bottom line: these examples show the need for thoughtful understanding and empathy.  

They also show the wisdom of Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts’ advice in a high school commencement speech:  

“From time to time in the years to come, I hope you will be treated unfairly, so that you will come to know the value of justice. I hope that you will suffer betrayal because that will teach you the importance of loyalty.  I hope you will be lonely from time to time so that you don’t take friends for granted. I wish you bad luck from time to time so that you will be conscious of the role of chance in life and understand that your success is not completely deserved and the failure of others is not completely deserved either. I hope you’ll be ignored so you know the importance of listening to others, and I hope you will have just enough pain to learn compassion. Whether I wish these things or not, they’re going to happen. And whether you benefit from them or not will depend upon your ability to see the message in your misfortunes.” 

It's a Wonderful Life

HS #54 2020.1.9

It’s a Wonderful Life

Racquetball players are notorious for having excuses for their poor performance. Meeting Bob Sterken to play on Tuesday, December 10, I told him I felt really tired. Was a bit embarrassed by the lack of specificity. 

Later that evening, while walking to Central Ave CRC for the Zeeland performance of Handel's Messiah, I felt strange.  Not sick - just weak with a slight burning in my chest.  

I noticed it on and off for the next few days, but continued my routine of teaching, grading finals, wallyball, and lifting weights. On Friday, I sang the Lessons and Carols service with the Grand Rapids Choir of Men and Boys, visited my aunt in Grandville, and then home to bed.  Later I awoke with the same strange burning feeling in my chest and left arm - just a bit more intense. 

Figuring, "No reason for it to have gotten worse," a Google search confirmed a possible heart problem.  I considered going back to sleep and dealing with it in the morning, but instead drove myself to Holland Hospital where Brian Yurk, my friend and former Hope colleague, joined me.   Within the hour, I went into cardiac arrest – twice, requiring defibrillation both times. When I regained consciousness, I learned the sobering truth that had I remained in bed, I would not have left it. 

At Spectrum’s Heart Center the decision was confirmed that I needed bypass surgery. Discovering that the surgeon was the son and the brother of old friends, I listened in calm confidence as he explained that the two available openings were either the following day (sooner than ideal) or the following week (later than ideal) – increasing the surgical risk as much as tenfold. 

The pre-surgical physician’s assistant, upon learning that I am a former Hope College professor, explained they would be spending the evening with the family of her good Hope College friend, Ryan Weaver. What?! Ryan, my former research student and close friend? He is my medical power of attorney. 

So Ryan and Brian waited with my sister until the surgeon arrived and reported that the outcome of the quadruple bypass was the very best possible. Later, when my aunt and cousin came to visit, my aunt asked if I was satisfied with the outcome given the heighted risk. Groggy, I was searching for the evidence for why I was very satisfied. My cousin, a no-nonsense junior high science teacher found it, “He’s alive, isn’t he?!”

I came home in time to enjoy Christmas with my sister and her corgis. Neighbors and friends from church, Hope College, Davenport University, and various choirs are stopping by, sleeping over, bringing food, and making me feel very loved. 

A risky way to have done it, but how many get a spontaneous “It’s a Wonderful Life” experience – learning, as a near-death experience offers, of the impact they’ve made in others’ lives?  How many, like George Bailey, get to see how one’s network of friends almost magically pulls together?  Just as Bailey’s daughter played Christmas carols in the final scene, the children of the Pearsons and Edgingtons, along with their mothers, provided a Christmas eve concert filling my living room with violin harmonies. 

As his friends gathered to his aid, George’s brother raised his glass in a toast, “To my big brother George, the richest man in town.” I learned the same lesson. Better said, it was confirmed, since I never doubted it: Friendships are the rich stuff of life. Nothing else much matters. 

And perhaps that is why I found myself very much at peace throughout, regardless of the knife’s edge I was walking. Either result was fine. Why? Friendship exists only in the moment. 

I need to be careful here. If I had children and/or grandchildren in my life, I would heed Dylan Thomas’s admonition to his father, “Do not go gentle into that good night.” 

Also, I realize perhaps now more than before that friends (and, of course, family) would miss me. So death is certainly tough on those who remain.  

But from my own vantage point, I had nothing to fear. The best reason for living exists only in the moment. Friendship doesn’t accumulate in the future. It cannot be saved or spent. It lives only in the ever-present “now.” I hadn’t considered that before. 

 But perhaps one of the young violinists did understand and expressed it simply in his bedtime prayer. "We know Tim has to die sometime, but hopefully not quite yet." 

Wedding Gifts and Living in Community

HS #52 2019.12.12

Wedding Gifts and Living in Community

While in graduate school I regularly received wedding invitations from former college friends. Since I was living on a grad student stipend, I typically sent just a card.  However, for one good-humored friend, I included a $1 bill and also taped in a quarter. I explained that he was such a good friend that I wanted to include money in his card - and sending just a dollar seemed rather cheap. 

He has never forgotten. 

Back up five years when I graduated from high school. Being a preacher’s kid, we invited the entire congregation. Most folk put $3-$5 in a card. One elderly widow lady gave me a pair of socks. That is the only gift and giver I remember.

Keep those stories in mind and answer this question: Why do folks give gift cards rather than cash/check? Gift cards restrict the purchase to a certain place and often within a certain time, it takes extra effort to buy them, and sometimes there is an extra fee attached. All negatives. What's the advantage? The advantage is something folk feel in their bones, but likely have not elucidated in their thinking: By giving a gift card, you are demonstrating that you put effort into the gift and are causing the recipient to think of you when they use it. A $50 bill is added to the pile and deposited in the bank. But a Target gift card reminds them that this deck chair is from Aunt Milly and Uncle Joe, and hopefully Milly and Joe will be lovingly remembered when the chair is bought and used. 

And why do we want to be remembered? Biologists tell us that it’s to our benefit because the relationship will be strengthened. Perhaps the recipient will reciprocate. After all, Milly and Joe have a golden retriever who needs care when they go to Chicago for the weekend. 

As a Dutch pragmatist, I want to both optimize value and minimize effort, 

so I put checks into wedding cards for some arbitrary amount, say, $52.38. Then  several weeks later I get a thank you card explaining that the couple spent an evening discussing the significance of the amount. Mission accomplished. They will never forget me and my gift. 

We bestow medals for similar reasons.  It’s to our benefit to have others in our group act valiantly. Their bravery and risk of life and limb serves our purpose – it keeps us safe. A medal is a small price to encourage others to follow their lead. Ironically, we selfishly encourage others to be unselfish.

Let’s call a spade a spade: Whether in the way we give gifts, or the way we honor our heroes, our “unselfish” acts are likely motivated at the core by our own self-interest. But no self-flagellation needed. That’s the way we evolved. We are hard-wired to form group relationships so others will help take care of us.  

Proof? A famous psychology experiment gathered a collection of strangers and arbitrarily put them into two groups.  Then each group was offered a choice: They get $3 and members of the other group get $5, or they get $2 and members of the  other group get $1. Most chose the later. In that short time, a “we-they” competition had developed, and folk’s priority was getting more than the other group.

This clumping together which aids survival helps explain birthday parties, tree houses (password required for entry), sororities and the Masonic Lodge. Significantly, since we have evolved to live in groups, it also explains why taking others into account leads to good living. 

Dale Carnegie’s classic, “How to Win Friends and Influence People” explains how to take full advantage of our social nature. He writes, “There is one all important law of human conduct which will bring us constant happiness: Always make the other person feel important.” 

The most successful contestant in the twenty years of the reality TV show “Survivor” is Boston Rob. He explains his recipe for being chosen by others as the winner: “Others go to bed thinking, ‘What do I need to do to win?’ I go to bed thinking, ‘What does each of them need to do to win.’ – then I help them achieve it.” 

Rob realized that in helping others, he ultimately helped himself. 

Indeed! Five years ago when my retired neighbor moved next door with a broken mower, I mowed his lawn. He hasn’t let me mow my own lawn since. 

The Beauty of Mathematics

HS #51 2019.11.14

The Beauty of Mathematics

This past summer while enjoying Thursday Street Performers on 8^th Street, I stopped into Readers World and found myself captivated by Jim Holt’s, “When Einstein Walked with Godel.” I have seldom read a book that so skillfully interweaves history, biography, and mathematics. 

One theme running through it is the beauty of mathematics. The great mathematician, G.H. Hardy, declared that beauty, not usefulness, is the true justification for mathematics.  Bertrand Russell observed, "Mathematics possesses not only truth but supreme beauty."  

How can mathematics be beautiful? Anyone who asks that question has never seen the Mandelbrot Set – certainly the most intricate and stunning thing in mathematics. Yet even simple things can contain hidden beauty. Case in point: consider the prime numbers, those like 2,3,5,7,11,13,17,19,23 that have no factors. (15, for example, is not prime since 15 can be divided by its factors 3 and 5.) 

These innocuous primes hide deep mysteries. For example, every even number ever checked is the sum of two primes (12=5+7, 20=17+3). Although no exception has ever been found, is this true for all even numbers? No one has been able to prove it. 

But the most elegant result involving the primes dates back to antiquity. Although they thin out as they grow in size, Euclid proved that there is no largest prime – that is, there are an infinite number of primes. His proof is the mathematical equivalent of Hamlet’s Soliloquy  or Pachelbel’s Canon or Michelangelo’s “David.”  And amazingly, it can be understood by anyone willing to put in a bit of effort. Are you game? Let’s start. 

First a bit of motivation. This past summer a tech friend explained to me that the security of email messages, credit cards, and bank statements relies on big prime numbers. Each user (person or computer) has their own personal prime number as part of their security key. That requires a lot of primes! Are there enough to go around? And the prime number needs to be large enough that others can’t easily discover it. So it’s reassuring to know that there is an inexhaustible number of big primes.  

Second, a bit of detail work: Consider (2x3x5)+1=31. Notice that 31 does not have the first three primes 2 or 3 or 5 as factors, because dividing 31 by any of them will result in a remainder of 1. Check it out. Similarly, 2, 3, 5, and 7 are not factors of (2x3x5x7)+1=211;  for example, 211 divided by 7 gives 2x3x5=30 with a remainder of 1. 

Another detail: Notice that if a counting number (1,2,3,4,5, . . ) is not prime, then it is the product of primes. For example, 15=3x5, 84=2x2x3x7. This fact is called the Fundamental Theorem of Arithmetic because it essentially shows that the primes are the building blocks of all the counting numbers. (What are the prime factors of 70?)

OK, let’s get started on the clever proof that Euclid discovered 2300 years ago. We begin by assuming for sake of argument that there are just a finite number of primes. Then there is a last and largest one – we’ll call it N. So let’s form a new number, much bigger than N, by multiplying all the primes together and then adding 1.  We’ll call it P. So P=(2x3x5x7x11x13x17x . . . xN)+1. 

Now we assumed that N was the largest prime number, but look at the fix that P puts us in: Either P is a prime number or P is not a prime number. (That’s from Aristotle’s logic.) If P is a prime number, then since P is larger than N, N is NOT the largest prime number after all. So our initial assumption was wrong. 

If P is not a prime number, then, according to the Fundamental Theorem of Arithmetic, P can be written as the product of prime factors.  But notice, just as 31 divided by 2, 3, or 5 leaves a remainder of 1, so also P divided by ANY of the entire list of primes all the way up to N leaves a remainder of 1.  So if P is not prime, then the prime factors of P must be larger than N. Again, our initial assumption was wrong.  

Since assuming that there is a largest prime number, N, leads inexorably to the contradictory conclusion that N is not the largest prime, that initial assumption must have been wrong. Thus, there is no largest prime – they go on forever. 

How cool is that! Give yourself a pat on the back. 

A Wedding Reflection

HS #50 2019.10.10

A Wedding Reflection  

 Officiating a wedding recently brought some new thoughts: 

As a single man with single siblings, I can think of no one with less experience in weddings than I.  But I’ll take heart from an Old Testament story - the story of Balaam who was confronted – in fact rebuked – by a talking ass. Well, to avoid confusion, let’s call it a talking donkey. The point of the story seems to be that advice and even wisdom can sometimes come from unlikely places - so I’ll play the part of the ass for this occasion. 

What I do know about marriage, I have learned – as with much else - from scientific research. In 1994 there was a cover story of a TIME magazine: “Infidelity: It may be in our Genes.” The researchers looked at the various primates – apes, gorillas, chimps – all those in the same family with Homo sapiens. They noted the phenotypes - the outward physical bodies - of these apes and then also observed their mating behaviors. In particular, some are monogamous and others polygamous. Then they asked: Given the phenotype of humans, what behavior would we expect? The answer: humans appear to be designed NOT to be monogamous. 

That explains much we see in society. But it raises a more compelling question: Given our natural proclivities, why do so many human couples remain faithful?

For many, the reason is their religious beliefs. Dr. Leon Kass, of the University of Chicago and chosen by GWB to steer the study of stem cell research, once remarked that the purpose of the Jewish scripture was to keep humans faithful to their spouses. 

That’s surprising, given the 750 wives of Solomon, but consider the first couple chapters of the Pentateuch.  Good stories and poems are sometimes achieved by setting up a pattern and then breaking it. This is exactly what we see in chapters 1&2 of Genesis. The author repeatedly says, “And God made - and it was good.” Over and over. But these phrases lead to the climax: It is NOT good that man should be alone – so God made Eve. The reason given was not for Eve to be a sexual partner nor even the mother of offspring – although these of course are understood. Instead, Eve was made to be a helper, a life partner – someone with whom to walk through life. 

Is this story literally true?  It doesn’t matter. This story has survived 4000 years. Chaff – lesser stories - have long since blown away. This story – among others from antiquity – remains because it contains deep wisdom about the human condition.  Namely, humans are made to be completed by another. In Greek mythology, the notion of soul mate expresses the same wisdom.  My late father, a minister, used to say, “A man is not complete until he’s married - then he’s finished.” 

However, many of my friends from past and present have little regard for religious beliefs and traditions.  Yet many of them have – from what I see – good marriages and raise wonderful children. One was my thesis advisor.   He once invited me to his home for dinner, and I noticed a plaque on his living room coffee table that I have never forgotten. It said simply:  “Choose your Love. Love your Choice.” 

Powerful!  Why? It is making a claim on human conduct not dependent on the will of God or law of man, but a claim almost mathematical in its logical simplicity and symmetry. 

Each person has total freedom to make their choice of a life mate. The recent Supreme Court ruling allowing same-sex marriage underlines that freedom.  No hindrances, no encumbrances - make your choice. 

But, with that choice comes an awful responsibility. The choosing is over – those days are past. Now Love your Choice. 

And THAT is why we are all gathered here today – to solemnize your choices via your vows to each other in front of all of us. It is not to be made lightly. There should be a little trepidation even now. You are going through a doorway. It is meant to be a semipermeable membrane. You are taking vows freely – you came here as two individuals, you will be leaving as one couple – a man and his partner, a woman and her partner. It is a holy moment. “Holy” means “set apart”  - something special. This is. Even the words used are special.  Again quoting my father, “Marriage is one big “I do” followed by a lifetime of  “uh-huhs.”