6.24.2005

The Truth about Truth

“The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. But the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth.”

Niels Bohr

Mr. Bohr was a smart guy. Considered by some to be the father of Quantum Mechanics; his theories paved the way for an entirely new way of looking at the world and the way we interact with it (just like Jeff Foxworthy!). Interestingly, most of his postulates have held up over time and are still considered largely accurate. The statement above is one that sounds nifty (like something he might have dropped at party while chatting up some proper pigeon in-between sips of brandy and stolen glances at said pigeon’s cleavage) but I think its actually horseshit.

Indulge me for a moment. I like this quote for a number of reasons – the main being that it’s rather beguiling. My initial inclination was to ponder the validity of the second sentence – attempting to come up with situations where a profound anti-truth begets profound truths. There’s obviously a healthy conversation worthy of many glasses of Carlo Rossi to be had there – but I wish to limit the Dawson’s Creek-atude of this post.

I wonder how many people would read this quote and immediately accept the first sentence as truth? If you’re reading this, did you? I've lost the ability to see anything as that concrete - and it sucks. Here I am in Pleasantville, missing the black and white. The fluid nature of ‘truth’ is something that has been disturbing me a lot recently. I find myself wanting very badly to say that ‘this is true’ and ‘that is false’ but I am currently unable to replace the determiners. The course I’m traveling seems to be populated by fewer and fewer genuine truths, which is hard for we men of little cognitive ability to navigate. There was a time when I used to believe that all men are inherently good… now, I’m not so sure. There was a time when I used to believe that love conquers all… now, I can only hope so. All of my core beliefs seem to be giving way to more indefinite language. Is this just a part of getting older? Should I just expect to continue until I can’t read a fortune cookie without rolling my eyes in parade of cynical disgust worthy of living in Uptown?

Of course, most of what’s been on my mind lately are matters of love and the decisions made in its name - so it should be easy to see how perspective on truth could get muddied. I’m clinging to what I’ve got left. I love my family. I love my friends. The world is still a good place (hold on tight).

These are my truths. Yours?