Android Warehouse

I don’t do fandom properly. Although I’m keen on Steely Dan, and have to a limited extent been for a long time, having liked their singles since the mid-1970s CE, I didn’t really get into them until I was with Sarada, who has a couple of their albums. I was puzzled by Fagen’s ‘I.G.Y.’ and irritated by its apparent optimism, because it seemed so inappropriate for 1982. However, this post is not specifically about the band, although it partly is. It’s also about William Gibson, the Metaverse and NFTs, and ultimately about what could be a coming dystopia, or it might be nothing, I don’t know

So let’s start with:

Steely Dan

Steely Dan are effectively a duo with a load of session musicians, now defunct due to Walter Becker’s death, the other member being Donald Fagen. My brother holds them in complete contempt, possibly because he has better taste than I. There’s a lot to be said about “The Dan”, most of which I won’t be going into here. I’d say they were characterised by cynicism, obsessively high-quality production, a theme of sleaze focussing particularly on incest and child abuse, but also on the criminal underworld and science fiction. They also have this odd habit of name-dropping, as if they’re on the inside and the listener is looking in from some kind of outer darkness which I suspect is illusory, but I can’t be sure. They’re also quite pretentious. But today I want to focus on their early stuff, which tended to sound like Crosby, Stills and Nash, in particular two tracks: ‘Android Warehouse’ and ‘The Caves Of Altamira’.

I’ll start with the second.

I recall when I was small
How I spent my days alone
The busy world was not for me
So I went and found my own
I would climb the garden wall
With a candle in my hand
I’d hide inside a hall of rock and sand
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told but never seen
Now and ever bound to labor
On the sea and in the sky
Every man and beast appeared
A friend as real as I

[Chorus]
Before the fall when they wrote it on the wall
When there wasn’t even any Hollywood
They heard the call
And they wrote it on the wall
For you and me we understood

Can it be this sad design
Could be the very same
A wooly man without a face
And a beast without a name
Nothin’ here but history
Can you see what has been done
Memory rush over me
Now I step into the sun

[Chorus]

Many years had come and gone and many miles between,

Through it all I found my way by the light of what I’d seen,

On the road as I returned was a green and yellow sign saying ‘see the way it used to be. . .”

And I took my place in line,

Could I believe the sad design could be the very same?

A wooly man without a name and a beast without a name . . .

(The block editor has screwed me here).

The actual caves of Altamira are an archæological site in modern-day Spain into which a girl once crept and rediscovered cave paintings of bulls. The last verse, with the messed-up layout, is omitted in most versions but casts a different light on the same experience. Steely Dan have said that the song itself is about the loss of innocence, presumably of both Palæolithic humanity and the girl in question.

The odd thing about the last verse is that it can also be sung using the tune for ‘Android Warehouse’, which is particularly interesting because for some reason ‘The Caves Of Altamira’ is often used as a title for the other song. There’s clearly a tale to be told here but I don’t know what it is.

The really enigmatic song, though, is ‘Android Warehouse’ itself, whose lyrics go as follows:

Daytime you’re to proud to brag

About the badge you wore

Nighttime you’re to tired to drive

Your change across the floor

All your guns are gone I’m told

Or in the Aerodrome

Did you die the day they sold

The ones you left at home

Hold my hand in the Android Warehouse

Who’s to know if you take a dive

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse

What a burner when you take off your goggles and find?

That you’re alive

That you’re alive

Did you really gobble up

The things they claimed you ate

Were you fit to swallow it

Or scared to clean your plate

Have you tried to calculate

The hours they’d applaud

I would guess it’s somewhat less

For just another fraud

Hold my hand in the Android Warehouse

Who’s to know if you take a dive

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse

What a burner when you take off your goggles and find…

That you’re alive

That you’re alive

That you’re alive…

This was written some time between 1968 and 1971. I should point out that I have a very strong tendency to read meanings into lyrics and texts generally which are unique to myself. As Al Stewart once said:

And some of you are harmonies to all the notes I play
Although we may not meet still you know me well
While others talk in secret keys and transpose all I say
And nothing I do or try can get through the spell.

Steely Dan lend themselves much more to this than many other bands though. Even so, I find ‘Android Warehouse’ to be particularly startling. It’s said that the band itself were actually going to be named Android Warehouse at one point, so it seems to be more than just another song. The crucial lines for me are:

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse
What a burner when you take off your goggles and find?
That you’re alive
So then: imagine an android warehouse. A place where physically inactive humanoid mechanical bodies are stacked up. And they’re all wearing goggles. Are they seeing anything through those goggles? If they take them off, they discover they aren’t androids after all, but are alive, and this shock burns them.

Does this remind you of anything?

Now the idea of the Matrix does seriously pre-date both Keanu Reeves and Steely Dan. It dates back to Indian ideas of Maya and the Western Gnostic tradition. But the idea that it was controlled by a giant machine or collection of machines is somewhat newer. It connects to Cyberspace. Note the capital.

I think ‘Android Warehouse’ is about the dehumanising effect of living in virtual reality as a metaphor for modern life in the industrialised world, and that the metaphor is quite vividly developed. In 1971 at the latest. This might be thought of as mere coincidence and reading meaning into things which aren’t there. The only thing is, Steely Dan were fans of a certain author.

William Gibson

Gibson invented cyberpunk, and I was there at the birth. As I mentioned in 1982, that year was the only one I read the magazine OMNI in, and the July edition saw the first publication of his short story ‘Burning Chrome’, which contains the first occurrence of the word “cyberspace”. Google ngrams shows the following:

“Cyberspace” is a heck of a lot more popular than “cyberpunk”. Cyberspace was originally a hacked computer called the Cyberspace 7, used to access a VR-represented version of the internet. It’s also known, to Gibson himself, as the “matrix”, described as a consensual hallucination. Its foundations look like the classic wireframe plane of squares as seen in countless CGI renderings from the 1970s, and it subjectively develops out of the phosphenes a sighted person experiences when she closes her eyes in darkness. Megacorp and military sites look like the coloured polyhedra familiar from high-end raster scan graphics of the time. There’s also ICE, Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics, which are arranged as “ICE walls” to protect data in the same way as fire walls now are in what might be called the real world. This includes “Black ICE”, which causes fatal seizures. Black ICE is a precursor of the later concept of David Langford’s Basilisk, an image which crashes the human mind fatally, but that wasn’t arrived at until his story ‘Blit’ in 1988.

The Sprawl universe defines cyberpunk, and was in its turn influenced by ‘Blade Runner’, which came out the same year as ‘Burning Chrome’. The basic features of the sub-genre consist of a dystopian computerised world which many people choose to escape by living in virtual reality. The central characters are usually marginalised poor people forced to live on the edge of society. There is a strong Japanese influence on the culture and the US has collapsed but the Soviet Union hasn’t. The Sprawl itself is a thousand-mile long conurbation stretching all the way from Boston to Atlanta. ‘Blade Runner’ seems to posit a second megacity on the west coast of the former US, and I use the word “Megacity” advisèdly as Judge Dredd’s Megacity One is quite similar and seems to be one inspiration for it. The film version of ‘Minority Report’ is set in the Sprawl too. It’s very common. The use of the word “punk” is clearly inherited from the then very recent punk movements of Europe and America.

The Sprawl trilogy contains numerous references to Steely Dan. For instance, there are bars called ‘The Gentleman Loser’ (from Midnite Cruiser) and ‘Here At The Western World’, a love interest called Rikki (Rikki Don’t Lose That Number) and Razor Girls (as in ‘Razor Boy’). Steely Dan is pervasive in the Sprawl, and Gibson has himself written about them. There are characters called Klaus and the Rooster (Here At The Western World). The general atmosphere of their music and Gibson’s fiction is the same. Incidentally, I fully acknowledge the influence of William Burroughs on both, but I’m not as familiar with him as the other two.

But here’s the thing. It doesn’t stretch my credulity at all to see the song ‘Android Warehouse’ as the inspiration for cyberspace. If that’s true, Steely Dan’s impact on the world is largely obscure but absolutely enormous.

The Metaverse

“Metaverse” is a word with a history. It wasn’t coined by Facebook or Mark Zuckerberg, but by Neal Stephenson in his book ‘Snow Crash’, which I haven’t read. I could at this point post a spoiler warning for ‘Snow Crash’ even though I haven’t read it, but the problem with that is that unfortunately the real world of the 2020s is a spoiler for the novel. I do not know what possessed the people who name Facebook stuff to use the word for this, because its connotations are absolutely appalling read in context. It looks like a sick in-joke.

‘Snow Crash’ is a cyberpunk novel published in 1992. Snow Crash itself is a basilisk in Langford’s sense. It’s a computer virus which can infect and destroy hackers’ minds. Although this might not sound very original given Gibson and Langford, the novel scores on being remarkably prescient. It popularised the term “avatar” in the online sense. Second Life has an annual reënactment of the novel because its existence was inspired by one of the main ideas and settings of the story: the Metaverse. This takes the form of a virtual world comprising a featureless black planet bisected by a road 65 536 kilometres long accessible via VR goggles or cheaper black and white terminals. It’s an urban environment a hundred metres wide. Countries have collapsed and been replaced by corporations. The entire book is supposed to be a parody of the cyberpunk genre, which is probably why the central character is called Hiro Protagonist. There’s a lot of other stuff, such as the Sumerian language being the machine code of the human brain, but for now I want to concentrate on the Metaverse. It is not a good thing. It’s controlled by amoral corporations and seems to be essential to living a bearable life. The entire setting is dystopian. I’m afraid I’m letting myself down here through not having read it, but the Metaverse is clearly not a good thing.

Then we get Facebook and Zuckerberg angling to incorporate his soul-sucking demon of a social networking site, to which I and many others are of course addicted, into his virtual environment and actually calling it the Metaverse without a trace of irony! Facebook aims to build an all-encompassing VR environment over which it has total control. Past experience has shown that FB is harmful and that they know themselves to be harmful, to the mental well-being of its users, and the likes of storming the Capitol shows very clearly that it has a malevolent influence on the human race and the planet. It has itself researched the harm it does. Their position is now analogous to the likes of tobacco companies and the fossil fuel industry lobbying and paying off people in “power” (I should explain those quotes at some point) in order to defer or completely erase their bad reputation.

What this amounts to, despite Zuckerberg’s claim that he will only provide the infrastructure which other corporations will use, is an attempt to privatise reality. There is arguably no problem with a virtual space of this nature provided there is public control over it, or perhaps individual control. There most definitely is a problem with this space being owned by a multinational, because to quote Revelation 13:17 –
καὶ ἵνα μή τις δύνηται ἀγοράσαι ἢ πωλῆσαι εἰ μὴ ὁ ἔχων τὸ χάραγμα, τὸ ὄνομα τοῦ θηρίου ἢ τὸν ἀριθμὸν τοῦ ὀνόματος αὐτοῦ. 

And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.

I am in no wise claiming that this is prophecy of this specific occurrence. I tend towards an idealist interpretation of the book of Revelation and believe that its contents can be applied to all places and times. Nonetheless I find it sinister that this seems to be a situation where you have to sell out in order to have a livable life in mainstream society. You have no choice but to be on Facebook having your intimate personal data mined and sold to megacorps. There is a reason why this Bible verse has such resonance and applicability.

In order to make the next point, it’s helpful to digress into a different high tech area. The replicator seems at first to be some kind of magical genie lamp which you can rub to wish away scarcity. It isn’t, because technological change can always be recuperated by capitalism. There is nothing special about the replicator or its real predecessor the 3-D printer which solves a political problem which wouldn’t’ve been solved by the industrial revolution or the plough in the right social climate. We have a device which can manufacture anything we want in whatever quantities we want. This is a potential hazard to the survival of capitalism, so there are two possible approaches to address this. One is just to make the raw material prohibitively expensive and out of reach of the average consumer so that only the super-rich or their money vampire machines called multinational companies can afford it. The other, and I’m not saying they wouldn’t do both, is to slap a patent, copyright or some other kind of intellectual property thing on the design of the product, then cripple the machine so that it will only produce it if you’ve got some kind of authorisation or payment for it. That way, order is restored and we can all rest safely in our beds knowing the world will continue to be completely crap forever or at least until the oil runs out.

The thing about the Metaverse is that there can be such things as virtual outfits, cars, furniture, apartments and so forth in it, all of which will have to be paid for, or if not, the free stuff will be given low status by people who are rich enough to afford the “nice” stuff. Don’t believe me? Just think about NFTs.

NFTs

Right, now we’re back in the Metaverse, where we want to buy and sell things, or rather Meta wants us to buy things from the various faceless sociopathic organisations that rule the world and damage by stealing our labour and money, also known as the ordinary world. However, any large organisation which does stuff is more likely to do bad stuff because it’s big and some of it is bound to be bad by the law of averages, so maybe it’s more an emergent property of large scale organisations. Whatever the cause, in an economy which runs on scarcity such as our own, the potential abundance afforded by the internet and ICT needs to be reined in for economic and political purposes. Bill Gates was one of the first people to realise how easy it was to copy software when he wrote his “Open Letter To Hobbyists” in 1976 regarding the piracy of Altair BASIC. His claim, from which almost everything he’s done since in the business world stems, was that piracy discouraged people writing software from putting in the work to develop it and therefore stifled information and in fact the whole burgeoning software industry. Against this lies the more abundance-based attitude of GNU, the Free Software Foundation, the original IMDb, Wikipedia and Project Gutenberg, among many others, which has enabled the internet to flourish and provided us with the likes of Android (there’s that word again).

The fact is that it’s very easy to reproduce software which has not been protected in some way, either legally or by a more technology-based method, and as technology advances also to reproduce text, music, video and other media. However, our economy can’t allow that to happen, so various methods are used to restrict that. There are videos on YouTube of “rare” or “lost” episodes or pieces of music, such as Android Warehouse itself, but once they’re on YT, unless someone comes along and has a copyright strike issued, they cease to be rare in most meaningful senses once they’ve been uploaded. Anyone who wants to can listen to Android Warehouse:

If the economy was catholic, i.e. maximised the number of sole traders, there would be a strong moral case for protecting individual artists’ works in some way. Even as it stands there’s a case for it.

In the non-virtual world, rarity doesn’t have to be invented. Stamps can be misprinted, coins can be issued for a short-reigned monarch such as Edward VIII and there are unique artworks by the likes of Picasso and Dalí. The latter in particular exploited this in an interesting way. Instead of paying for his meals in restaurants, he used to draw sketches on pieces of paper and hand them over like cheques. In order for the same kind of thing to happen online, methods need to be devised to create scarcity. Although on the one hand this seems morally bankrupt and perhaps even evil, on the other we live in a world where many of us provide free “content” without any prospect of being renumerated for our labour. The word “content” used in this setting makes me think of containers into which art, music and text is poured without regard for the kine “which” secreted it and the adverse effect it has on their bodies and lives.

Photo by Matthias Zomer on Pexels.com

Enter the NFT. This isn’t the only solution. Another might be quantum cryptography, but in any case right now the NFT is a very hyped option. NFT stands for “Non-Fungible Token”, and once again I find myself in a quandary because I have no idea whether they’re well-known or not. Fungibility is more or less another word for replaceability, and NFTs are an attempt to create non-replaceable resources online. They’re based on cryptocurrency and the blockchain, specifically on the Ethereum one, the second most popular cryptocurrency after Bitcoin.

Both cryptocurrency and NFTs are subject to being hard to understand, in such a way that they remind me a little of confusopolies. This is Scott Adams’s word for the situation which used to exist around mobile ‘phone contracts and others (e.g. utility services) where there were so many different options that many people just plump for one at random because they don’t understand the differences between them and consider them trivial. This allows providers to camouflage their deals and compete successfully because it makes it less likely that really good deals can be noticed, and it also puts people off thinking about them too hard. That repellence, and the feeling that life is too short, is a good way of getting away with nefarious activities. With cryptocurrency and NFTs an additional layer of complexity is introduced by the fact that both are currently subject to bubbles. Most people seem to be into cryptocurrencies as a means of making money rather than as a means of exchange, leading to the artificial inflation of their value, but at the same time it would be understandable if the risk to the authority of the likes of banks were to be countered by causing Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt (FUD) in the minds of the public. For people of my generation there could be a further layer of complication due to the feeling that anything which has been invented recently is suspect. There also appears to be a vast environmental issue with both.

Leaving all that aside, how does an NFT work?

An NFT is a single token stored in a blockchain indicating exclusive rights over an item, usually a digital asset of some kind. If you buy an NFT, you get to “own” something like an image, a URL, a film, a piece of music or perhaps an asset in a game such as a weapon, a skin or an area of land in a virtual world. These last few are what links NFTs to the Metaverse, since that’s a virtual world like Second Life or World Of Warcraft. However, they become more significant to the rest of us if Zuckerberg succeeds in his leverage.

A blockchain is a ledger held by participating computers over a wide area. Some might say “all over the world”, but I’m not sure that includes most of it. When a transaction is made, that is, buying and selling, a record of that is made publicly on this ledger which can be read by all participants in the system. This is what guarantees the security of the system and allows it to be independent of banking. This threat to the authority of banks could conceivably lead to negative propaganda and manipulation, but at the same time NFTs and cryptocurrency don’t actually seem to be good things for other reasons and those who want to profit from them benefit from talking them up.

The big problem with cryptocurrency and NFTs, environmentally speaking, is that they’re generated by carbon-hungry “busy work” on computers. The problem centres on “proof of work”. As far as Bitcoin is concerned, it works like this. Every ten minutes, the computers connected to the network do a difficult and complex calculation which proves that electricity has been used. It must not have a useful purpose. The data resulting are evidence that the work has been done. These are then submitted and the winner (it’s like a lottery) then gets to verify all the transactions done in the last ten minutes. The more electricity you use, the more likely you are to win, and this is also how Bitcoins are created. Bitcoin miners therefore congregate in areas where the climate is very cold (to cool their computers doing the work) or where electricity is cheap, which usually means a massive carbon footprint. Something like 0.5% of the carbon footprint of the species is due to Bitcoin mining and the blockchain alone.

Ethereum uses a process known as “proof of stake” instead, where a random process is still used, but is based on the investment an individual participant makes, giving them the chance to validate everything. This still makes it easier for richer people to make money but potentially avoids the concentration of power which occurs with Bitcoin. Approving fraudulent transactions brings penalties. Ethereum is also being upgraded to “Ethereum 2.0”, which aims to reduce the risk of a “majority shareholder” dominating the network, increase the bandwidth of transactions (more per second) without increasing the size of nodes and making it more environmentally sustainable.

It really bothers me that anyone would even consider inventing a new technology which automatically has a large carbon footprint this far into the twenty-first century. Ethereum doesn’t seem to have this, but it has other problems, in the nature of NFTs, which are based on Ethereum.

There are various pieces of data, some of them very large such as feature films, which are linked to NFTs. The cost of an individual NFT is usually very high. In the Metaverse one probably won’t have any choice but to use them, and at this point I am reminded of the ‘Black Mirror’ episode ‘Fifteen Million Merits’, and in particular this crowd at the Hot Shots talent show:

Will be removed on request

Don’t you just know that the skins, faces, hair and clothing of those avatars were bought at a premium rate set by the network? In 2022, and in connection with the Metaverse, all of these things are likely to have NFTs. Moreover, in this screenshot it’s clear that they’re supposed to look artificial, low-quality – somehow “plasticky”, which is what they will be. But the chances are you won’t have a choice to opt out of using crypto or NFTs.

Things may change, but right now NFT-associated property looks similarly vapid, ugly and uninspiring. Here are some examples:

Lazy Lions:

You know what? I have no clue whatsoever how intellectual property works on this or any other NFT-related stuff. You tell me and I’ll act accordingly.

Bored Apes:

Cryptopunks:

Just to choose a few random prices, one Lazy Lion costs £9 816.12 and there’s also one for almost a million quid, a Bored Ape is typically cheaper, maybe about £40, and Cryptopunks are each valued particularly highly, seeming to average well about a quarter of a million pounds sterling apiece. One of them appears to be worth £300 million. All of these appear to be arbitrarily generated by software in a lazy manner, and they all feel seriously soulless. It’s possible that at some point this bubble will burst and there will be more stuff which actually seems to be worthwhile, and this also links to the idea of artworks which are only worth something if they’re in a gallery. If you visit the websites these things are sold on, the focus is solely on investment. Nobody seems to care what they look like.

I find this rather distressing. I find it all the more distressing that I can easily see that this low-effort trash will not only continue but become unavoidable if we’re all forced to participate in the Metaverse.

Conclusion

I’m not really sure where this is going. I believe Steely Dan may well have had an invisible hand in today’s world through their song and it’s widely acknowledged that William Gibson did. Facebook, or rather Meta, may well fail in their attempt and could have overreached themselves in creating the Metaverse, which could in any case be a distraction from their other nefarious influence on society, but that won’t stop someone else from doing it. Zuckerberg seems peeved that he doesn’t have control over hardware and therefore the whole path from his central stuff to the end-user. The Metaverse is also nothing new, and is more like him nicking it from the common ownership it has currently and making it his own. Finally, NFTs may come to nothing, and are a continuation of what’s long happened in other ways, but right now, to this four-and-a-half-dozen-year-old, they look like something which would’ve happened in the last days of Rome before the Goths came swarming in, or in this case pandemics and anthropogenic climate change.

Seriously, I dunno. They changed what “it” was I think.

Reincarnation

As a Christian, I’m not supposed to believe in reincarnation. That said, there was a time before the emergence of Christian orthodoxy when many Christians did, and more recently the Cathars, for example, did believe it happened. There is also an allegation in the gospels that John The Baptist was a reincarnation of Elijah. Some Jewish mystics also believe in it. However, two things about this. Firstly, I’m not Christian in the sense of having faith in Christ as a living God and Saviour in human form because there seems to be a lot of evidence against the idea that the Holy Spirit exists. Secondly, although one’s knowledge and faith in the doctrines of one’s religion should be a guide, they should never be an excuse for dispassionate observation of the evidence or its lack regarding a possible fact of the matter. Ultimately, our only duty in this respect is to the truth, assuming truth to be absolute and bivalent, and that a correspondence theory of truth is correct rather than a coherence theory, and approaching something in this manner ultimately strengthens any justifiable faith. It’s part of a cycle.

I’m going to start from Christianity. An early argument I made to other Christians regarding reincarnation was that it seems to be more just than having just one shot at life, after which you’re either damned or saved. It gives one longer to commit to Christ or otherwise and enables one to make amends and have as many chances as are needed for salvation. As far as I know, though, no Protestant, Orthodox or Roman Catholic church today accepts the idea of reincarnation as a general process. This has apparently not always been the case. The Cathars were a twelfth century Gnostic Christian sect who believed humans were angels trapped in physical bodies who would not enter heaven until they were purified (hence the name, from the Greek καθαρσις), and until then we would be reincarnated. Cathar Perfects also always travelled as same-sex couples, which led others to attribute homosexual relations to them, although it isn’t clear whether this was defamatory or a fact. It was said to be to avoid sexual temptation. Unsurprisingly, the Cathars were persecuted by the Church. The Albigensian Crusade was conducted against them and they were massacred and executed. In fact their doctrine doesn’t appeal to me because they’re Gnostic, but I hope I don’t need to say that I consider their massacre to be a great evil. They may have been an invention of the Church as an excuse to kill lots of people. I’m not aware of the details here. As a thirteen year old I liked the idea of the Cathars and regarded myself as one because I saw myself as a Christian who believed in reincarnation. A friend of mine saw this as a very bad thing because of their apparent tolerance of homosexuality. They were influenced by the Bogomils and a group I’ve not otherwise heard of called the Paulicians. The Bogomils were also Gnostic and opposed to physical and institutional places of worship as their own bodies were considered to be temples, which makes no sense to me because they were supposed to be Gnostics, who believe matter is evil and see the body as a prison as far as I know.

There’s a widespread belief among both supporters and opponents of reincarnation, that the early Church accepted the belief, and in particular Origen of Alexandria, born 184 CE, is said to have implied that it happened. Origen certainly believed that souls existed before conception. He also believed in a succession of universes in which souls appear to become incarnated in each æon, so that definitely sounds like a form of reincarnation, although not in the sense that someone living in his time might still be around today in a different body so much as that after the end of this æon, a new world will be created and they would live a life then, just as they had before this æon.

The soul has neither beginning nor end. [They] come into this world strengthened by the victories or weakened by the defeats of their previous lives.

Falsely attributed to Origen but widely publicised.

It looks as if Origen’s cosmology has been vaguely passed on to people who later read into it what they wanted to hear, so when they hear the word “reincarnation”, more strictly μετεμψυχωσις, they tend to assume it means a soul living a series of lives in the same universe rather than having one instance per æon in a sequential multiverse. However, the fact that there were still Gnostic Christians around in the fourteenth century who had inherited their own beliefs from other religious groups suggests that there may have been an underground Gnostic movement which survived the early Church and, through all that time, maintained such a belief. In fact I’m wondering if Origen’s belief was in fact modified in the same manner as the popular misconception of it today has been, and that in fact they just plain did believe in reincarnation.

Judaism has a tendency to be quite positive in some places about beliefs which Muslims or Christians tend to clamp down upon. For instance, whereas orthodox Protestant and Roman Catholic churches usually reject divination outright nowadays, including the Kabbalah, Judaism not only embraces it as part of its own tradition but actually seems to prize it and encourage certain people, namely older men, to explore it. Jews do not perceive the Tanakh (Hebrew Bible – what Christians tend to call the Old Testament) to refer to reincarnation and the Talmud never refers to it either. However, the Karaites, a non-Rabbinical sect of Judaism which relies directly on the written Torah, believe in gilgul, “rolling” of the soul between bodies as they live out their lives. One reason for this is that it seems to explain the suffering of small children, because if they sinned in previous lives this can be seen as divine retribution. The Zohar refers to the idea several times, stating that a proud man (sic) might be reincarnated as an insect or worm. It also says Cain’s soul entered the body of Jethro and Abel’s the body of Moses. The Hasidim just plainly and explicitly believe in reincarnation and say that particularly enlightened individuals are able to remember previous lives. Apart from gilgul there is also dybbuk, which is spirit possession, and ʻibbur, which is where a soul enters a person’s mind from heaven to assist them. However, as far as I know observant Jews nowadays don’t usually believe in reincarnation. As usual, the specific beliefs of faithful and observant Judaism do vary considerably on this matter.

In the Christian New Testament, a claim is made that Jesus may be a reincarnation of Elijah.

 “See, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of the parents to their children, and the hearts of the children to their parents; or else I will come and strike the land with total destruction.”

Malachi 4:5-6, New International Version

This is of course the Tanakh, but in the New Testament, the following passage, one of several, appears:

They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’

Matthew 16:14, New International Version

This at least suggests that many saw Jesus as an example of what was at some point referred to as ʻibbur, a soul descending from Heaven (which doesn’t seem to be a very Jewish concept incidentally) to help Jesus, or perhaps a plain and simple reincarnation of Elijah. This cannot, as far as I can tell, be reconciled with the later orthodoxy about the nature of Jesus Christ, but interestingly the phenomenon of ʻibbur is remarkably similar to Stapledon’s ideas in ‘Last And First Men’ and ‘Last Men In London’, and of course also somewhat similar to the idea of Bodhisattva.

So in the end, I think I would say that there is definite evidence for the acceptance of the idea of reincarnation in Judaism and heretical Christianity, and early on perhaps even in the embryonic Christian church itself. Of course that doesn’t mean reincarnation is a reality, but it’s just interesting that it isn’t as far from the Abrahamic tradition as is sometimes assumed. The Druze are another example of Abrahamic religionists who believe in it.

The spiritual home of the doctrine of reincarnation is of course generally perceived to be in South Asia, where it’s held to be true by Jains, Hindus, Buddhists and, perhaps surprisingly, Sikhs. Among them, the idea is more formalised and linked more explicitly to karma. Jainism, probably the most physicalist of all religions, sees the soul as weighed down by karma as a kind of subtle contaminating matter which sticks to it when one acts in such a way as to tie oneself to the cycle of life in the world below mokṣa, as with inflicting suffering, lying, theft or committing sexual misdeeds. Buddhism can sometimes analyse the soul completely away and just see things in terms of karma being passed on, and I will return to this as it seems quite significant to me. The idea of reincarnation in Hinduism is so familiar it isn’t worth going into here. It’s worth noting, though, that the link made between the moral quality of one’s life and reincarnation present in both Judaism and the dharmic faiths, and usually inherited in the West from this source, is not present in other parts of the world.

Pythagoras believed in reincarnation and passed the belief to other Ancient Greeks, and at the same time the religion of Orphism, which may have been influenced by Indian thought. Elsewhere in the world beliefs in reincarnation also exist, for instance among Native Americans and Australian Aboriginals. It could be that the religions of South Asia only happen to include belief in reincarnation because they better preserve a more universal ancient human tradition of spirituality than in many other places. In Siberia, children are given the names of dead relatives in the expectation that they receive their personalities. That said, other groups of peoples do believe in an afterlife instead, with no reincarnation, hence ancestor worship.

All that said, this needn’t imply that reincarnation actually happens. There are many near-universal beliefs which have turned out not to be so. Presumably at some point in the remote past, everyone assumed the world was flat, and everyone was wrong. But are we assuming here that those who do believe in reincarnation are in that particular aspect more ignorant than we are? For all we know, they were drawing conclusions on evidence that suggested that hypothesis. In a sense, the scientific method didn’t exist at that time but human beings were still capable of reasoning and used it to improve their quality of life, so why conclude they were wrong or merely superstitious? Why believe in reincarnation or an afterlife, or something else? It does stand to reason that fear or mere incomprehension that such a complex thing as a human personality and consciousness could cease to exist permanently with death, and therefore that the afterlife or reincarnation could be seen as rationalisations, but why choose one over the other? Does it say something about a culture which one they believe in? Are there other beliefs apart from extinction and oblivion?

I also have no idea which belief is more popular or whether they coexist in the same spiritual traditions.

A belief can be thoroughly explained as fulfilling some kind of emotional and social function without turning out to be incorrect. These two approaches are in different realms. In a less culturally integrated situation, belief in reincarnation can still satisfy some kind of need. One example of this is past life therapy. Here, a patient is hypnotised and regressed into time before their birth, at which point they may receive the impression of having lived other lives before this one. Dr Edith Fiore is one such practitioner. She has worked with countless people in this respect, making a connection between their current physical and mental conditions and experiences in their past lives. For instance, someone who suffered headaches might find she had been clubbed to death in a previous life or someone with a phobia of heights might find that they fell to their death previously. Now, I’m not convinced that these are real but I can see that it might help someone make sense of their life today to have these apparent explanations available and even that they might help resolve physical symptoms and illnesses to some extent. Fiore apparently went on to look at cases of spirit possession and alien abduction, which sets off my bogometer, but her work on past life therapy precedes these and I wonder what that’s about. I can still believe that this could be helpful even if it has no basis in reality. Fiore’s view seems to be that the soul has a fixed gender and passes from life to life, which manifests itself as someone mainly experiencing life as cis but without any necessary sense of incongruence or dysphoria when they’re trans. I can actually get on board with this in a limited sense because I think the cis/trans division isn’t primary. Rather, the division is between people for whom their perceived gender is significant and those for whom it isn’t, but of course I have a whole other blog devoted to that. I will just say two things here though. Firstly, I’m aware that there are gender-incongruent people who explain their condition as a soul of one gender in the body of a different sex, and secondly, I think most people who believe in souls also believe that they’re either not gendered at all or that they all have the same gender. I also have an issue with how non-binary and intersex people are supposed to fit into that picture. However, my point is that people in the here and now are using the concept of reincarnation as a therapeutic tool, to explain what they otherwise find inexplicable. However, past life regression often seems not to be historically accurate and may be confabulation. Even if the memories retrieved existed ready-made in the subject’s brain, the same may be true of dreams, and there is at least a lot of extraneous information in those which don’t correspond to waking life or anything in it. For instance, a couple of nights ago I dreamt my carpal bones are being guarded by a pack of dogs. This means nothing literally, though it probably does reflect my felt need to protect my arms from injury when moving my father around.

The notion of karma is another one of these. There is of course a cognitive bias called the “Just World Fallacy”, apparently also known as the “Just World Hypothesis”. This is the belief that life is fair. Consequently, when bad things happen to good people it’s sometimes because of something bad that they’ve done in the past, and doing good brings rewards. Sometimes karma is evoked to explain this, and before I go on I should state that I do in fact believe in karma but not in this way exactly. Sometimes, it seems more that a just and loving deity is acting to balance the scales of justice. A lot of this amounts to victim-blaming and self-aggrandisement, but the position of past lives is clearly evoked as one way to explain how, for example, a child might be born with a life-threatening health problem. I have to say that this particular version of karma is pretty irksome to me and can also come with a general negativity about life as found in, for example, Ayurvedic medicine, where reproduction and development are generally viewed in a negative light and by extension women are seen as inferior since they are thought of as the vessels for new life, i.e. a failure of a spirit to achieve nirvana. That’s a nauseating, disgusting view and I want no truck with it.

Some people do believe past life therapy is “real”, but that it doesn’t involve the patients’ own past lives. Rather, they see it as their minds reaching out into the past to find lives which resonate with their problems. This could explain, for example, the clichéed “I used to be Cleopatra” phenomenon. It is possible that someone felt an affinity with her and made that connection, and therefore that there is a genuine psychic connection which is not, however, the same as reincarnation. Or, much more simply, maybe they just have a strong desire to have lived a glamorous and important life, perhaps like that of Jayne Mansfield, who is of course someone I used to believe I was personally a reincarnation of. And as I’ve said, I do still feel, on seeing her eyes and face, that that’s me looking back at myself. A powerful impression, but not something which has any basis in reality. I’m not that delusional, or at least my beliefs are not delusional in that particular respect. It serves mainly as a reminder of how vivid these impressions can be.

The probability of any random person being a reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe, Cleopatra, Napoleon or any other famous individual is of course very low if identity survives death and the self is incarnated in a single body as a complete entity. I don’t know how many Hollywood stars there were in 1967 but I do know there were more than a million births between Mansfield’s death and my birth, so even if there were a thousand of them the chances are only a thousand to one. It didn’t happen. No matter how strong and eerie my feelings are when I see her in a film or a photo, I know this is an illusion, but it illustrates the power these impressions have over the mind.

There do appear to be genuine memories of past lives. For instance, there’s a case of a mediæval peasant in England who suffered a head injury and is said to have been able to speak only in Ancient Greek when he recovered consciousness, and the religious context of that makes it unlikely that he would have faked that. This is of course also anecdotal. It’s also common for children to spontaneously recall apparent past life memories. These occur whether or not there is a belief in reincarnation in their community or family, and fail to correlate with mental illness, and they also take place where there is no contact with mass media. These memories are usually reported between the ages of two and five and the children concerned often seem to have phobias and likes which don’t seem to result from learned experience since birth. Sometimes these apparent memories correspond to those of another person whose life can be discovered, and there may be birthmarks corresponding to injuries sustained in that person’s life. This sounds outlandish of course, but it’s backed up by studies undertaken by medical scientists and is not in this case just anecdotal or hearsay. There’s a list of peer-reviewed scientific papers here. This is not just a load of superstition.

I think there might be two coëxisting explanations for this which are akin to dreams. It’s probably best to describe dreams first. Daniel Dennett is prominent among the proponents of the idea that dreams are not experiences but false memories. I agree with this to some extent but don’t think they are best explained in this way because of lucid dreaming and the axes which Dennett has to grind. His own explanation of lucid dreaming is pretty poor and violates Ockham’s Razor. You’ll probably gather that I have little respect for Dennett’s thought. Even so, it’s plausible to me that in waking life, dreams are reconstructed memories from the brain state during REM sleep. However, this doesn’t stop dreams from being experiences but may indicate that the relationship between consciousness and time is different with dreaming than it is during wakefulness, and this is also a waking explanation for dreaming and shouldn’t be taken as authoritative because the waking state of consciousness is not the only one and may not be given a higher status than others. Past life memories in small children could be similar. The physical state of the brain in early life is analogous to someone who has just woken from a dream because it may contain various things experienced as impressions and memories which didn’t actually occur in the literal past, but in a projected past created as a result of the physical impossibility of death in the mind of someone living. However, just as dreams are a different relationship between consciousness and reality than waking consciousness, preëxistence could be too.

The reminiscence bump is a peak in strong memories of one’s life. For most people it occurs between fifteen and twenty-five. That is, people tend to remember that decade of their lives more vividly than the rest. Oddly, this doesn’t correspond to the age people go back to when they have dementia, which is often their thirties. Anyway, like most other people I do have this reminiscence bump, which for me corresponds to the years from 1982-92. However, musically I have recently realised I have a previous apparent reminiscence bump I can’t account for. A couple of years ago, I attempted to identify how much of the ’60s I could actually remember, and unsurprisingly a lot of this involved singles which I remembered from when they were popular and first released rather than having heard them since. I wrote these down and found, very surprisingly, that they were almost all from May 1967, which is two to three months before I was born. My current explanation for this is that I heard them in the womb, although that may not make much sense because babies are apparently born with synæsthesia and fail to label their sensory experience as consisting of separate senses. However, it’s also true that transracial children who were exposed to the auditory environments of their birth mothers in utero have been shown to pick up their parental languages significantly faster than those of their adopted communities, which suggests that fetuses can hear. This raises another issue. When does reincarnation occur? If it’s after the second trimester, do premature babies have souls? There are two explanations I can think of for my musical reminiscence bump which are interesting as opposed to probable. One is that I simply remember them from hearing them in utero. This is actually quite problematic as many scientists would reject the possibility that the human brain is sufficiently organised at that time to do that, and also I’m not sure how clearly an ear immersed in amniotic fluid with more such fluid between it and the amnion, uterine wall and abdominal wall can hear music. Our daughter clearly could hear fireworks five months after conception, but loud bangs are not the only part of instrumental and vocal music. Another explanation is that these are the memories of someone who was old enough to recognise music and remember it, possibly my mother or even Jayne Mansfield, or more likely, someone who was adolescent to adult at the time. Perhaps this is part of someone else’s reminiscence bump, born between 1942 and 1952.

There seem to be two major problems with reincarnation. One is that we don’t seem to have memories of future lives or lives of entities elsewhere in the Universe. I should probably explain this. The passage of time as we perceive it seems to be associated with being living, conscious bodies of the kind we are, and in fact we don’t always perceive it at all. If there is a soul existing separately from the body, it would seem to be in a timeless state which doesn’t experience time as flowing. That would mean that incarnations of the soul are like the spines of a sea urchin, puncturing spacetime in various places but converging at a central point which is the soul itself, not subject to spacetime. If this is so, it might be expected that there’s no difference between a life in the nineteenth Christian century and one in the thirty-seventh, or life here on Earth and another in a Bernal sphere in the Andromeda Galaxy back in the Eocene. But we only seem to remember adjacent lives in the relatively recent past. We also don’t seem to recall contemporary lives, which is a bit odd as well. A partial explanation is that we tend to remember spatiotemporally adjacent lives better than ones which are more distant, and our memories of the future tend to be interpreted as precognition, visions, prophecies, whatever.

The other problem is that there doesn’t seem to be a soul in the sense used here. This is problematic in various ways, for instance it doesn’t seem to explain how God can exist or how we can apparently communicate with the dead, because even if that’s faked by Satan or demons they would still be incorporeal beings, in other words souls. However, there seems to be nothing about the human body which suggests it’s “haunted” by a ghost-like entity. There’s no sign of the brain being able to do anything which isn’t amenable to naturalistic explanation. From a religious perspective, the Bible definitely seems to deny that there are such things as souls quite clearly, so a Christian such as I ought to be physicalist, believing only in conscious lumps of matter called people. Therefore, there is a problem. How can reincarnation happen if there are no souls to be reincarnated?

I think a clue to the explanation lies in the possibility of precognition. If we have a convincing impression of life in the future after our own deaths, we usually don’t interpret it as a memory of a future life but as extrasensory perception. We asymmetrically interpret ESP, real or not, according to when and where its source seems to be. An impression of a contemporary distant event or object is generally understood to be remote viewing (assuming it’s visual) or telepathy. The same impression of a future event or object is interpreted as precognition or prophecy. But when we have apparent memories of a time before our conception, we call that reincarnation, or see it as evidence of that. What’s wrong with the idea that we simply receive impressions throughout space and time and just label them as belonging to us when they’re from the past? Alternatively, what’s wrong with the idea of seeing future memories as future reincarnations? Quite a lot in the other case, but if you believe in reincarnation, why wouldn’t you have memories of future lives as well as past ones? And rather chillingly, maybe the reason we don’t have memories of past lives away from this planet is that we’re alone in the Universe. Even so, it seems more likely that we just experience lives which are nearby in time and space.

I mentioned previously that not all Buddhists believe in souls, but they still believe in reincarnation. This is because they don’t conceive of anything which makes up a person continuing to exist after their death for more than a very short period of time, except for their influence on the world. I should point out at this stage that I’m recounting this from memory. It’s true that what one does in one’s life sends out ripples which leave their mark on the world, very obviously through having descendants for example, but in myriad other ways. This doesn’t require a non-naturalistic account, and it means that these ripples, which could be seen as karma, could converge on the as yet unborn. This is closer to how I see apparent reincarnation.

You’ve probably noticed that I’m not remotely sceptical about psychic abilities and the supernatural. This is because they seem to be part of my and other people’s everyday experience and there doesn’t seem to be a naturalistic explanation for them. For instance, on many occasions I’ve experienced the symptoms which clients have had several seconds before they contact me for the first time, and I had a dream on 15th September 1983 of events which appeared to involve people I had yet to meet with recognisable landmarks and buildings in Leicester, a city of which I then knew nothing and had no idea that I’d end up living there. Moreover, this is not confabulation as I wrote a detailed description of the dream in my diary at the time. I think probably most people have these kinds of experience as well as many others which are at first wanting of a boring explanation but eventually get one with some careful thought or analysis. One of these is that the sheer plethora or experiences is bound to turn up the occasional coincidence which will register with one’s pattern-recognition device, the human mind, when it seems to be significant but not with the many more which don’t. But given that I learned to predict when a new client was about to ring me based on these experiences, for example, this doesn’t seem to fall into that category. Nor do I think I’m unusual in that respect. I would expect most people to have these experiences but perhaps dismiss them or ignore them. I do the same with many of mine, but I do acknowledge that they happen.

As I’ve said, Ockham’s Razor needs to be applied to this. We seem to have impressions gathered non-naturalistically, but we sort these into separate categories according to when and where they occur, so we end up thinking that there are different phenomena involved: precognition, telepathy and reincarnation. Reincarnation is particularly problematic because it seems to require belief in a soul. The simplest explanation is that since there is no soul in that sense, our minds simply receive accurate impressions from elsewhere in time and space through means other than our recognised physical senses. It may not even be necessary to abandon metaphysical naturalism here. We can just acknowledge that they exist but that we don’t know how they can.

Gnosticism

Trigger warning: Rape.

Here’s some common ground for mainstream theistic Christians and metaphysically naturalistic atheists: something neither of us believe in. Gnosticism is a variety of religion, possibly a form of early Christianity but arguably not, which existed from about the first Christian century until going into decline around the time of the Council of Nicaea in 325 CE. It might have been the other way round, in which case mainstream Christians would’ve been the heretics and they’d be orthodox, but this is how it really turned out.

The word “Gnosticism” is derived from the Greek γνωσις, which both means and is cognate with the English word “knowledge” and the Sanskrit word ज्ञान, jñāna. The general idea is that Jesus provided special esoteric knowledge to a few people, such as his disciples, which can be discovered by analysing what he said. Because history went the way it did, Gnosticism comes across as odd to today’s Christians, and also has a flavour more akin to Eastern religions such as Buddhism than Judaism or the other Abrahamic religions. A possibly over-simplified version of Gnosticism goes as follows: There is an ultimate true God known as the Λογος, Logos, or Word, who rules over all and is ultimately good. This God is hermaphrodite and defined only negatively, for instance as the Unmoved. Several steps down from this God is the Δημιουργός, Demiurge or artisan, carpenter perhaps, who fashioned the physical Cosmos and has trapped souls in matter. This Universe as we know it is therefore effectively the Matrix. This is the origin of the idea that we might be living in a simulation, and the secret knowledge we gain enables us to escape. I often think this makes the film series ‘The Matrix’ and Elon Musk’s and others’ idea that we are in a simulation distinctly unoriginal. Some Gnostic Christians saw Christ as the manifestation of the Logos and contrasted the New Testament God with God as portrayed in the Hebrew Bible as being the Logos and the Demiurge respectively.

Now for a bit more detail.

This is a diagram of the πληρωμα (pleroma). This is literally “fullness” and is a concept used in both orthodox and Gnostic Christianity. It means the totality of divine power. There is, incidentally, a lot of overlap between the concepts of orthodox and Gnostic Christianity and the word is used many times in the New Testament. It contrasts with κένωμα, kenoma, emptiness, and there may be a third contrast with κοςμος, kosmos (more usually spelt with a C in English). I should point out, incidentally, that when I say “orthodox Christianity” I’m actually referring to the version of Christianity which is directly ancestral to the Roman Catholic, Protestant and of course Orthodox denominations of the Church, and not just the Orthodox churches, although at the time what was to become mainstream Christianity was also to become the Orthodox Church. Terminology just is confusing here. A general trend of sophistication can be traced in the New Testament between the earlier synoptic gospels and the later Fourth Gospel and Johannine writings, and this trend continued with Gnosticism becoming more esoteric. Therefore the Pleroma as shown above works like this. The point at the top is the Monad, which seems to be another word for the Logos but I’m not sure (I’ll come back to that). This emanates into νους & αληθεια (I’m having to shift between Greek and English keyboards here all the time, hence the ampersand in the middle of that – it’s quite tiresome!), which are Mind and Truth. The word for “truth” is negative in Greek, meaning something like “non-forgetfulness” or “the state of not being hidden”, hence the “a-“, as in “atypical”, “asymmetrical” and “atheism”, also found in the related Sanskrit. This reflects the tendency in Gnosticism to pursue the via negativa, i.e. describing things as what they are not because the divine passes all understanding and therefore cannot be described positively – we don’t have appropriate concepts for God. This could lead into something interesting, and it will in a bit. Every point in that diagram within or on the larger circle represents one of the emanations of the divine, and the circle itself is referred to as the Boundary, Cross (Stake as in σταυρος), i.e. the same word used for the instrument of Jesus’s execution. The pleroma is where the ‘αιωνης (I’m not sure of that plural) dwell. These Æones (singular “Æon”) are the enamations of the Monad. Emanations are things which are “thrown off” the Monad without it being diminished. I tend to think of them as separate beings but I’m not sure this is correct. A similar idea is found in Zoroastrianism with the 𐬀𐬨𐬆𐬱𐬀 𐬯𐬞𐬆𐬧𐬙𐬀, Amesha Spenta, seven divine and personified emanations of Ahura Mazda representing various virtuous attributes of God. Since these are personified, I assume they are also in Gnosticism, which has thirty of them.

The kenoma could be linked to kenosis, an important concept in orthodox Christian theology. Kenosis is the idea that in becoming human Jesus emptied himself out and “became nothing for us”, and is a useful concept, for example, in the idea that Jesus was gang-raped before the crucifixion by Roman soldiers. One of the most popular posts on this blog is ‘Was Jesus Raped?‘ which goes into this in more detail, but it should be noted that there are many people who describe themselves as Christian now who object to such things as this statue:


A photo of the Jesus the Homeless Statue by Timothy Schmalz outside
Date
22 April 2014, 14:15:07
Source
Own work
Author
Pjposullivan

This statue is sometimes objected to on the grounds that it attempts to debase Christ, and similarly there are attempts on Yahoo! Answers to insult Christians by bringing up the question of him being gang raped. Kenosis focusses on the idea of Jesus becoming the lowest of the low: a homeless man, born in a stable, who happened to be God. The Gnostic concept of the Kenoma is of the emptiness or void outside of the Boundary of the Monad, and is the world as we perceive it by our senses. Each Æon in the pleroma has a corresponding entity in the kenoma.

The reason all this stuff is speculated about is that it’s supposed to be secret knowledge which carries the key to the Universe, and it’s also an attempt to reconcile Christian philosophy with Neoplatonism. My first impulse is to throw all of this into some kind of conceptual dustbin as completely idle and pointless esotericism, but one thing that stops me is the fact that, and this opens me to potential ridicule, I actually believe Nostradamus made successful, unambiguous and accurate predictions, and he based his technique on Neoplatonism. Also, the esoteric has a draw to me: it can be seen in alchemy, the Qabbalah, choirs of angels and the likes of the chakra system in Yoga.

I am, of course, coming out of the dominant strand of Christianity, some of which was to evolve into evangelical Protestantism, and consequently I’ve inherited the dismissive attitude of the early Church from about the fifth Christian century onwards, which regards Gnosticism as heretical. This history of early Christianity may, however, help to explain a couple of notable features of today’s mainstream Christian faith. Christianity as I understand it has an oddly sparse and austere cosmology. Any other world faith seems to have accumulated complex models of the spiritual universe such as many deities, the various worlds of Buddhism, the emanations of Zoroastrianism, the complexity of the Talmud in Rabbinical Judaism and the names of God in Islam. Some denominations of the Christian faith share that kind of concretion, but not the likes of the Society of Friends or Evangelical Protestantism, the two aspects wherewith I have most to do. I also place ethical considerations right at the centre of my life, something which occurred to me when I first looked at the Qabbalah, because the idea there seemed to be that “doing the Right Thing”, which in that case probably meant following the Talmud perfectly, was simply the first stage of the Tree Of Life, whereas to me that makes the entire thing redundant because it constitutes a distraction from that duty and a waste of time and energy. This plainness and austerity, in the context of what became orthodox Christianity, seems like a continuation of the trend which began with the rejection of Gnosticism.

There is, though, an opposite trend which is equally apparent in Evangelical Protestantism, and the fact that these two seem to coëxist in it really puzzles me. If you look at, for example, Judaism, that has a list of thirteen precepts arrived at by Moses Maimonides which sums up its basis, although of course you then have the sophistication of Torah, Talmud and perhaps even the Zohar. Islam has its Five Pillars and Buddhism its Four Noble Truths and Noble Eightfold Path. All of these amount to just one principle: do good deeds in the world and you will achieve a higher state of being. Evangelical Protestantism is markèdly unlike this. It has no “elevator pitch”. In order to do the right thing according to that, you have to repent and commit to Christ, the uniquely fully human and fully divine sinless person who died on the Cross for you in order to atone for the inherited sins of the human race due to the first people’s disobedience from God, and it isn’t good deeds which help here but just the one deed of letting Christ in. Maybe it’s just because I’m closer to it, but all that seems a lot more complicated than other religions. And somehow, this austerity and complexity comfortably occur together as features of Evangelical Protestantism. Which is weird. However, I think this complexity is probably inherited from Gnosticism, because a clear trend can be seen towards it in the chronological order of the New Testament texts.

Modern mainstream Christianity, including in fact heterodox sects such as Jehovah’s Witnesses, emerges from a tradition which defined itself as “Not Gnosticism”, although there are other heresies such as Arianism and Monophysitism, while also inheriting Gnostic features. One legacy is the via negativa, that is, describing the Divine by what it’s not. There is a view that metaphysically naturalistic, scientifically realist atheism is the result of a Christian world view because of its separation between the Divine and the created realms, the latter of which is taken to be amenable to logic and governed by physical laws, and ultimately leading to the redundancy of the concept of God. Some other forms of atheism are remarkably different. For instance, some Indian atheists simply saw karma as a sufficient explanation for everything an therefore rejected the concept of God. But to me the most appealing other option to theism, and probably the one closest to my own theism, is theological non-cognitivism, also known as “ignosticism”, which is the view that religious language, including talk of God, is not about semantic meaning, and therefore that “there is no God” is just as invalid as “God exists”. It’s similar to ethical non-cognitivism – the idea that a sentence like “this is the right thing to do” in fact means “I approve of this, do so as well”. It is also true that the via negativa edges into that, and if I were to reach another set of beliefs from where I currently am, I would probably just decide that atheism and theism are equally crass and ill-conceived. This idea can be traced back to Gnosticism, although it crops up in other belief systems, such as logical positivism. There is no point at which I would ever claim to be atheist, for that reason, unless I change my mind about the idea that there is always a strong emotive element in meaning. My narrative tends to be psychological even though I’m externalist, but ignosticism also works as a way of highlighting the possibility that our notion of God, among other religious ideas, may simply be incoherent.

I don’t consider Gnosticism to be a good thing. To my mind, it removes the distinctiveness of Christianity and makes it more like Buddhism and Hinduism in that it leads one to view matter as evil. This has negative consequences in the real world. For instance, Ayurvedic medicine is influenced by the idea that reincarnation is an undesirable consequence in that it sees in utero development as painful for the fetus and pregnancy as an unhealthy state, so it brings misogyny with it. Women are, for Ayurvedic medicine, undesirable vessels which trap us all in life as opposed to Nirvana. The same kind of thing happens with Gnosticism, since it views matter as evil and something to be escaped. Adopting such an attitude undercuts the urge to make a positive difference to the world, since life is effectively an illusion anyway. The modern Church has also accused transgender people of Gnosticism, which I won’t cover since this is the wrong blog for it: here is a pamphlet from the Christian Institute on the matter, so to speak.

There are opposing views regarding whether the New Testament itself contains Gnostic elements. It had a tendency to use words also used in the New Testament, and the Septuagint, but elaborated way beyond their usual meaning, which accords with its esotericism. The Fourth Gospel (“John”) of course mentions the Logos in a prominent position and there seems to be something odd going on with its prose style which I’ve never been able to put my finger on, possibly chiasmus, which might be used to extract some kind of hidden meaning. Analysing the texts of the gospels themselves, some claim that earlier and later versions can be distinguished in such as way that Jesus was viewed differently as time went by. Specifically, the Gospel of Thomas, a non-canonical gospel which, however, appears to be Q, an early long-undiscovered apparent source for other canonical gospels, seems to focus on the idea that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand and doesn’t refer to the idea of the End Times. This could reflect on a change in attitude when the apparently promised imminent end of the world didn’t happen. To my mind, it seems that paradoxically the idea that the world was about to end is a later idea, although this may not be sustainable considering the apparently apocalyptic focus of much contemporary Judaism. It’s also possible that Paul was influenced by Gnosticism, because his focus was on the Gentiles, who would at the time have been more comfortable with Greek ideas, although the Jews were themselves quite Hellenised at this time. He may even have been Gnostic himself, referring to “knowledge” in such texts as 1 Corinthians 8:10 –

Εαω γαρ τις ιδη σε τον εχοντα γνωσιν εν ειδωλειω κατακειμενον ουχι η συνειδησις αυτου ασθενους οντος οικοδομηθησεται εις το τα ειδωλοθυτα εσθειν;

For if someone with a weak conscience sees you, with all your knowledge, eating in an idol’s temple, won’t that person be emboldened to eat what is sacrificed to idols? 

I don’t know about you, but to me this looks a bit contrived, since the “knowledge” might simply be the usual Pauline theology of salvation.

To conclude, if Gnosticism had become the dominant form of Christianity I don’t think it would’ve been a good thing. Even as it stands, Christianity may have been instrumental in the fall of the Roman Empire because people simply didn’t care about the world any more, and with Gnosticism it would’ve been even more so. It’s popular in certain circles and has influenced Christianity as we know it, pun intended, but it isn’t a good thing. It’s still quite interesting though.