First, a few definitions to help in this discussion. We’re going to dive a little deeper than usual here.
Axiom: 1 - a maxim widely accepted on its intrinsic merit, 2 - a statement accepted as true as the basis for argument or inference, 3 - an established rule or principle or a self-evident truth.
Maxim: 1 - a general truth, fundamental principle, or rule of conduct
2 - a proverbial saying.
Intrinsic: 1 - belonging to the essential nature or constitution of a thing.
I was first introduced to the concept of axioms by Josiah Seamen, who wrote about them on his blog “Blinding Light“. His definition of an axiom was a an assumed or accepted truth that allows for the function of higher activities. His example was mathematical, 1+1. He argued that the assumption that 1+1=2 is required to successfully operate higher mathematical operations. Physically, we know that one object with another added, makes for two objects. However in the working of a mathematical function, the assumption that this will always happen, one and one equalling two, is needed. If such assumptions were not made, math would be a tedious process, or rather more tedious than it is already, of physically confirming that the numeric match reality. This is perhaps not the best example or definition of what an axiom is. The simplest understanding is that an axiom is an accepted truth.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I’m not going to write at length about mathematics. I wouldn’t dare bore myself in doing so. What I wish to discuss are personal philosophical axioms, focusing specifically on religion.
Gregory Lester provides some fascinating insights into why people hold on to beliefs, even if such beliefs are in conflict with evidence available to them, in his article posted on the website of the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry, titled, “Why Bad Beliefs Don’t Die“. Lester poses the possibility that beliefs are an extension of our senses, accepted truths which allow us to function outside the abilities of sight, smell, sound, taste, and feeling. In other words, our minds include various axioms in its function in order to cope with the unknown.
“Functionally, our brains treat beliefs as internal ‘maps’ of those parts of the world with which we do not have immediate sensory contact. As I sit in my living room I cannot see my car. Although I parked it in my driveway some time ago, using only immediate sensory data I do not know if it is still there. As a result, at this moment sensory data is of very little use to me regarding my car. In order to find my car with any degree of efficiency my brain must ignore the current sensory data (which, if relied on in a strictly literal sense, not only fails to help me in locating my car but actually indicates that it no longer exists) and turn instead to its internal map of the location of my car. This is my belief that my car is still in my driveway where I left it. By referring to my belief rather than to sensory data, my brain can “know” something about the world with which I have no immediate sensory contact. This “extends” my brain’s knowledge of and contact with the world.
The ability of belief to extend contact with the world beyond the range of our immediate senses substantially improves our ability to survive. A caveman has a much greater ability to stay alive if he is able to maintain a belief that dangers exist in the jungle even when his sensory data indicate no immediate threat. A police officer will be substantially more safe if he or she can continue to believe that someone stopped for a traffic violation could be an armed psychopath with an impulse to kill even though they present a seemingly innocuous appearance” (Lester).
Our beliefs, or axioms, can sometimes be proven wrong. One of the examples Lester provides above is that of believing where his car is, based on the last time he saw it. His axiom is that his car should be where he parked it. This enables him to function beyond wondering where his car is or how he is going to find it. This allows him to cope with the unknown, as he can’t see his car after he’s left the driveway. In reality, his car might have been stolen thirty minutes after being parked. Three hours later, while preparing to go out to dinner, Lester’s axiom is enabling him to continue to function without worrying about the location of his car. The truth, to him, is that his car is in the driveway. Imagine the shock of walking out the door and staring at an empty slab of concrete where, only moments before, he fully believed his car was. In that moment, his belief is shattered and the mind realizes that the axiom it was using was wrong; 1+1 suddenly doesn’t equal 2.
Often, religion is the source of axioms defining a person. Some religions expect more from their practice than others. High expectations generally instill strong axioms within participants. If a religion expects God’s intervention, axioms will develop within the minds of the members of that religion. These axioms can be expressed as logical statements, such as, “If I go to church, I will have a more peaceful week”, or, “If I pay my tithe, God will bless me with more money”. These axioms allow people to cope with the unknown by becoming involved in what they come to believe are God’s purposes. The desire to overcome the unknown and be accepted by God can lead one to defend axioms, even if they fail. What if after a family pays their tithing, they have no money for food at the end of the month? What if a active church attendee always has a horrible week? Amazingly, other axioms aid in the defense when another fails. Surely the family and church attendee were not righteous enough and need to strive to further commit themselves to God, says another axiom, before the other axioms will work.
What happens when a believer does not entertain an axiom in support of another that fails? It’s possible that a domino effect will occur, as one-by-one the mind rejects adamantly defended axioms and they are replaced by new realities or alternate axioms. The danger is made greater when axioms, that have shaped our very thoughts, actions, and personalities, fall to new realities. 1+1 doesn’t equal 2, and we find it difficult to function anymore. The very foundation of who we thought we were crumbles and creates a need for us to redefine ourselves.
One of the most important concepts we can learn in the redefinition of ourselves is that the things we accept as true, our axioms, could be wrong. We may never be right about the unknown. This may be an axiom itself, but it’s one that allows for change based on shifts in reality without the pain of having our very being shaken to the core by the implosion what makes us who we are. We have to be able to accept that the unknown really is just that: the unknown. We must make peace with the fact that we may never know anything beyond what we can sense and be prepared to change what we believe based on the reality presented to us. Lester concludes that a persons “ability to alter their own beliefs in response to data is a true gift; a unique, powerful, and precious ability. It is genuinely a ‘higher brain function’ in that it goes against some of the most natural and fundamental biological urges.”
Living a life of fluid axioms is not a matter of continuously doubting oneself or “chasing one’s tail” over what is true and what is not. It’s a mere acceptance of the possibility that your beliefs may not be correct and that they may never be. While others take refuge in their accepted truths, you may take refuge in your accepted limitations to understand.
My own limitations have likely prevented me from doing justice to this piece. As one who has experienced the difficult effects of failed axioms, I hope I have provided a glimpse, if even but a small glimpse, into axioms and their effects.
