The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers . . .
(William Wordsworth – Sonnet)
If I pause to think for a moment, I can easily imagine a massive groan exuding from any audience of mine as soon as the word ‘materialism’ passes from my lips or through my pen.
‘Will he never stop banging on about this?’ I hear them roar.
Well, I hate to say this, but probably never.
Those who have had the patience to read through my sequence about my Parliament of Selves will know that a battle has raged within me between the sub-personalities who favour poetry, meditation and the exploration of consciousness, and the sub-personalities who are committed to what they would regard as real action against our toxic challenges, such as the climate crisis.
As the controlling consciousness, I have a similar passion about how evil materialism is – in fact it maybe the underlying disease of which global heating is just the worst and most terrifying symptom. Maybe my fight against materialism is a valid kind of activism after all, even though waged almost entirely in words on this blog. Not sure if that idea would satisfy the activists in my Parliament of Selves though.
What I hope to explore here is why a reductionist belief that matter is all there is and spirit or soul is just a distracting myth is profoundly mistaken. I’ll be drawing on Alexander and Newell’s book but also straying into all sorts of other territory.
A Vision of Something Higher
Viv Bartlett, a Bahá’í colleague, in his recent book, Navigating Materialistic Minefields, which was published shortly before his death, asks a profoundly important question:[1] ‘How, we may ask, can humanity progress without a vision of something higher, more enthralling than that which presently exists?’
I’ve asked a similar question, triggered by Jeremy Rifkin’s The Empathic Civilisation: do we need a transcendent focus? At the end of a long sequence about his book I concluded that, while I accept that the capacity for a high degree of empathy is wired into our brains, I also strongly believe that a higher level again can be reached, with proportionately more leverage in terms of sustained action, if we also can internalise a sense of what the Quakers term ‘That of God’ which is in all of us. Then we will not only have a strong sense of our links to one another but we will also have the confidence to act against apparently overwhelming odds that comes from the knowledge that we human beings are not alone. Bahá’u’lláh says:[2]
Turn thy sight unto thyself, that thou mayest find Me standing within thee, mighty, powerful and self-subsisting.
Only when we have such a sense of powerful support and shared humanity does it seem to me that we can reach that tipping point, when most of the world of humanity will be prepared and able to put their weight effectively against the wheel of redemptive change for as long as is needed, and only then will disaster be averted. Pray God that moment will not come too late for us.
I felt that Rifkin had done his best in his impressive book to suggest one possible path towards a secure future – an identification with Gaia, our planet. Those who follow his line of thinking and put it into practice will surely do some good. They could do so much more if they had faith in an effectively benign power higher than the planet we are seeking to save and which needs our urgent help.
Viv’s conclusion, encapsulated in a quotation from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá,[3] nails it:[4] ‘Man must attach himself to an infinite reality, so that his glory, his joy, and his progress maybe infinite.’
What’s Stopping Us?
This is a fairly simple question to answer at its most basic level. Too many of us are buying into the default dogmatic delusion of materialism that is subliminally conveyed by almost every mainstream aspect of our culture, until we are induced into what Charles Tart calls a ‘consensus trance.’
In his book Waking Up,[5] which featured in an earlier sequence, Charles Tart uses the term ‘consensus consciousness’ to describe how our culture and life experiences shape our perceptions of the world. This effect is so strong that he goes onto describe it as a state of mind that is definitely not an enviable one:
. . . . consensus trance is expected to be permanent rather than merely an interesting experience that is strictly time-limited. The mental, emotional, and physical habits of a lifetime are laid down while we are especially vulnerable and suggestible as children. Many of these habits are not just learned but conditioned; that is, they have that compulsive quality that conditioning has.
Bernard Haisch unpacks one of the fundamental tenets of materialism, which is randomness. Haisch contends that:[6]
[R]andomness is the conviction that natural processes follow the laws of chance within their allowed range of behaviour. Given those beliefs there is one and only one way to explain the fine-tuning of the universe. An infinite number of universes must exist, each with unique properties, each randomly different from the other, with ours only seemingly special because in a universe with different properties we would never have originated. Our existence is only possible in this particular universe, hence the tuning is an illusion.
It leads to the multiverse hypothesis, the supposedly only viable way of explaining how life can exist at all when it depends upon such a finely tuned and impossibly improbable set of preconditions.
Most of us in the West have been successfully indoctrinated into accepting whatever our successful and apparently trustworthy doctrine of scientism pronounces as the truth. Haisch doesn’t buy into this myth for one minute:[7]
The evidence for the existence of an infinite conscious intelligence is abundant in the accounts of mystics and the meditative, prayerful, and sometimes spontaneous exceptional experiences of human beings throughout history. The evidence for random universes is precisely zero. Most scientists will reject the former type of evidence as merely subjective, but that simply reduces the contest of views to a draw: zero on both sides.
The odds are so daunting Paul Davies, in The Goldilock’s Enigma, almost threw up his hands in despair:[8]
So, how come existence? . . . all the approaches seem . . . hopelessly inadequate: a unique universe which just happens to permit life by a fluke; a stupendous number of alternative . . . universes . . .; a pre-existing God . . .; or a self-creating . . . universe with observers. . . Perhaps we have reached a fundamental impasse dictated by the limitations of the human intellect.
Others are more dogmatic, so dogmatic in fact they refuse to accept the possibility of evidence to the contrary because they are so convinced that no evidence can possibly exist to support what they believe is impossible.
Viv Bartlett quotes Haisch:[9]
A conversation between philosopher Neal Grossman and an academic colleague underlines this point. Bernard Haisch, in his book The God Theory, writes about this conversation:
‘. . . The academic cavalierly dismisses accurately reported details of near death experiences that could only have been perceived from vantage points outside the body as coincidences and lucky guesses. An exasperated Grossman finally asks: ‘what will it take, short of having a near death experience yourself, to convince you that they are real?’ Rising to the occasion… the academic response: ‘if I had a near death experience myself, I would conclude that I was hallucinating, rather than believe my mind can exist independent my brain.’ Then, to dispose of the annoying evidence once and for all, the champion of enquiry confidently states that the concept of mind existing independent of matter has been shown to be a false theory, and there can be no evidence for something that is false. Grossman observes: ‘This was a momentous experience for me, because here was an educated, intelligent man telling me that he will not give up materialism, no matter what.’
The result is that information is buried that might shake our belief in materialism. Mishlove brings in a professor to explain it:[10]
Jeffrey Krippal, professor of philosophy and religious thought at Rice University, suggests that near-death experiences and after-death communications are much more common than we typically realise. Social pressure is still suppressing the data. Public discussion of post-mortem survival is relatively rare. The reason is that we are afraid of our own supernature . . .
Scientism has even invented what seems to be a plausible copout. Alexander explains the premise they use as the foundation stone upon which to build their castle in the air:[11]
One such metaphysical assumption (referred to as metaphysical because it is at the foundation of our thinking) is that only the physical world exists, a position known in science as materialism (also called physicalism).
And quotes a so-called scientist to flag up the supposedly unassailable defence:[12]
Novella seemed satisfied merely to declare that one day actual evidence would be found to support their assumptions (known as “promissory materialism”).
(And incidentally too many scientists are too afraid to jeopardise their careers to stand up and be counted.)
What effectively proves that this position is fundamentally at odds with true science is its failure to operate on the core requirement of scientific investigation, as Alexander and Newell explain:[13]
I have come to see that true open-minded scepticism is one of the most powerful commodities in this enterprise. However, most of those in our culture who proudly claim to be sceptics are actually just the opposite — . . . Their mindset is the antithesis of what many hold to be the ideal of scientific thinking – approaching such deep questions with the most open mind possible, untainted by premature conclusions.
Experience around the world is littered with evidence that calls the reductionist position into question, what Alexander and Newell call ‘black swans’:[14]
NDE reports by the tens of thousands – and similarly numerous reports of deathbed visions, after-death communications, shared-death experiences, and past-life memories of children indicative of reincarnation – represent data that demand explanation if one has any interest in understanding the world as it is, and not just as they think it should be.
Experience requires dispassionate exploration if we are ever to understand what it really means. That the spiritual dimension is invisible does not warrant our contemptuous dismissal of its possible existence, but here we find scientism’s double standard hiding in plain sight:[15]
[Black swan data are dismissed but . . .] the existence of [invisible] neutrinos is not in doubt to most physicists, neutrinos being a very subtle form of matter, yet their existence is crucial to evolving models of subatomic physics. The fact that they are not as obvious as Canada does not mean they do not exist.
Applying such a double standard makes it next to impossible for [NDE] research studies ever to demonstrate significance.
Limitations of Methodology
Another key obstacle to gaining wider acceptance of anomalous experiences in scientific circles is the challenges of replicating them in laboratory conditions.
I have already touched on this in my review of Bruce Greyson’s book After.
Attempts to provide an even more rigorous methodology may have failed, not because the NDEs were inauthentic but because the methods adopted were inappropriate to the task. A good example is the idea of placing targets close to the ceiling in the hope that experiencers would spot them. Consultations with a group of NDE experiencers flagged up the problem with this approach very clearly and, in my view, convincingly. Greyson described what happened:[16]
When I discussed [my] research findings at a conference attended by a large number of people who had had NDES, they were astounded at what they considered my naivete in carrying out this study. Why, they argued, would patients whose hearts had just stopped and who were being resuscitated – patients who were stunned by their unexpected separation from their bodies – go looking around the hospital room for a hidden image that has no relevance to them, but that some researcher had designated as the “target”?
This also resonates with what Julie Beischel writes in Leslie Kean’s Surviving Death about mediumship studies:[17]
The analogy I like to use is that a mediumship study in which the environment is not optimised for mediumship to happen is akin to placing a seed on a tabletop and then claiming the seed is a fraud when it doesn’t sprout.
Alexander and Newell are on essentially the same page:[18] ‘The elaborate process of setting up a scientific assessment of prayer in a controlled setting often strips much of the spiritual energy out of the endeavour.’
‘Doubt Wisely’
What all too often makes materialism, and its sibling, scientism, delusional is the toxic degree of certainty some of us invest in it, something which leads us to dismiss a priori any evidence that contradicts what we have decided to conclude is absolutely true, regardless of the possible strength of that evidence.
Perhaps it is also important to clarify that making this argument does not necessarily mean that I am trying to meet reductionist dogmatism with spiritual fundamentalism. The arguments and evidence I have marshalled here and elsewhere do not prove there are ghosts or gods. It simply convincingly demonstrates that there is something more than matter that needs to be included in our paradigm.
I have, of course, chosen to go further than that, but am happy to admit that this is a personal act of faith, something which dogmatic materialists seems extremely reluctant to admit in their turn: they too have made a leap of faith. To me the choice I’ve made seems both more fulfilling and more realistic than placing my faith in matter.
Significantly, though I have decided to believe in a God, a spiritual dimension and an after life, and also to trust what Bahá’u’lláh tells me, I know that I cannot trust my understanding of any of these things. I know the first three of these exist but even with Bahá’u’lláh’s help I have no certainty about the nature of God, only a vague idea of what the spiritual dimension might be, and harbour slightly stronger impressions of what the afterlife might be like, derived largely from survivors’ descriptions of near-death-experiences (NDEs), which one experiencer described as being like ‘trying to paint a smell.’ I try to follow John Donne’s advice in Satire III and ‘doubt wisely’ – I only wish the followers of dogmatically materialistic scientism would do the same.
The cost of materialism
The delusional state I have attempted to subvert is not just a harmless choice of perspective.
It paves the way for and even fosters destructive cultural consequences such as our blind faith in neoliberal capitalism, the glorification of individualism, and Ayn Rand’s vilification of altruism, to name but a few.
I think I’ll leave the final words of this post to more eloquent sources. In Century of Light, in which the Universal House of Justice encapsulates its perspective on the world during the previous century, we find:[19]
Tragically, what Bahá’ís see in present-day society is unbridled exploitation of the masses of humanity by greed that excuses itself as the operation of “impersonal market forces”. What meets their eyes everywhere is the destruction of moral foundations vital to humanity’s future, through gross self-indulgence masquerading as “freedom of speech”. What they find themselves struggling against daily is the pressure of a dogmatic materialism, claiming to be the voice of “science”, that seeks systematically to exclude from intellectual life all impulses arising from the spiritual level of human consciousness.
Materialism is a kind of religion, in their view:[20]
Fathered by nineteenth century European thought, acquiring enormous influence through the achievements of American capitalist culture, and endowed by Marxism with the counterfeit credibility peculiar to that system, materialism emerged full-blown in the second half of the twentieth century as a kind of universal religion claiming absolute authority in both the personal and social life of humankind. Its creed was simplicity itself. Reality—including human reality and the process by which it evolves—is essentially material in nature. The goal of human life is, or ought to be, the satisfaction of material needs and wants. Society exists to facilitate this quest, and the collective concern of humankind should be an ongoing refinement of the system, aimed at rendering it ever more efficient in carrying out its assigned task.
Time to stop now.
Living in a Mindful Universe also deals with many other important topics including the meaning of suffering, health, the importance of nature and reincarnation. More on some of that next time.
References
[1]. Navigating Materialistic Minefields – page 160.
[2]. The Hidden Words – Arabic no. 13.
[3]. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá on Divine Philosophy – pages 136-37.
[4]. Navigating Materialistic Minefields — page 147.
[6]. The God Theory – iBooks page 16.
[8]. The Goldilocks Enigma – pages 292-93.
[9]. Navigating Materialistic Minefields – pages 114-15.
[10]. Beyond the Brain – page 95.
[11]. Living in a Mindful Universe – page 121.
[13]. Op. cit. – pages 132 -33.
[17]. Surviving Death – page 172.
[18]. Living in a Mindful Universe – page 262.
[19]. Century of Light – page 136.