On Uncertainty, Randomness, and The Limits of Knowledge

It is April 1st, 2023, a particularly lively night with my quiz club during my last semester of college. The air is electrified with fun, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. In the midst of this revelry, I find myself sitting with a friend, sipping on some good old Jack Daniels. Gratitude fills me as I embrace this vibrant finale to my college years. A thought crosses my mind, prompted perhaps by the whiskey's gentle nudge towards philosophical musings. "Is the 'blue' that I see the same as the 'blue' you see?" I ask.

This isn't just about colors; it's about understanding if what goes on in my head is anything like what goes on in yours. It's a dive into the concept of 'qualia,' those subjective experiences of perception that are uniquely individual and impossible to communicate fully. It's like trying to explain the taste of a specific fruit to someone who has never tasted it – words can only take us so far. This inherent subjectivity extends to our very perception of the world. Just as we all differ in appearance, it's conceivable that our internal experiences—our feelings and sensations—are just as varied. This concept is further explored in an article I found quite insightful: [The big idea: do we all experience the world in the same way?].

Essentially, all we truly have is our own mind, filtering and constructing our reality. This uniqueness of experience reminds me of the fundamental uncertainties that René Descartes contemplated in his quest for undeniable truth. His famous declaration, "Cogito, ergo sum" – "I think, therefore I am," suggests that the act of thinking is the proof of existence and perhaps the only certainty there is. But to get by in the world, we have to make assumptions, even though we're aware they might not hold up. That's the tricky part.

Take the problem of induction, for example. Imagine you've got a few dots scattered on a paper, and you're trying to figure out what curve connects them. There could be an infinite number of curves fitting those few points, but which one is the real deal? This is where Occam's Razor comes in. It's a principle that suggests the simplest explanation is often the best one. But even then, it's just a guideline, not a guarantee. This is a classic example of how, even with the best of our reasoning, we're guessing – educated guessing, but guessing nonetheless. Perhaps our grasp on knowledge has its limits.

Then there's randomness. A lot of what happens in life—good luck, bad luck, fortune, misfortune—it might all just come down to chance. Take success, for example. We often attribute success to hard work and failure to the lack thereof, but isn't there an element of randomness to it? Many people work hard but don't achieve the success they seek, while others might find success unexpectedly. This randomness lies at the heart of the uncertainty we face each day, shaking up our beliefs about control and predictability.

As a researcher, I've come to realize that the more I learn, the more I understand how much I don't know. This acknowledgment of uncertainty is not just an academic exercise but a fundamental aspect of the human condition.

So, what does all this uncertainty mean for us, in day-to-day life? When we interact with each other, there's always a bit of guesswork involved. We're never quite sure if we're on the same page. Consider a refusal to shake hands; one could interpret it as a health precaution, another as a sign of disrespect. This can lead to misunderstandings, which in turn may lead to conflicts that seem to be a part of human nature. It seems to me we're all wandering around in a fog, trying to make sense of the world and each other.

But here's a thought: what if this uncertainty, this not-knowing, could actually bring us closer? If we all admitted we're a bit lost, maybe we'd be more patient, more understanding. Maybe there'd be less fighting if we realized we're all in the same boat, trying to figure things out.

So, maybe this fog of not knowing for sure is not such a bad thing. It could be what reminds us to be kinder, to not jump to conclusions about others, and to face life with a bit more curiosity and a bit less certainty. Because in the end, we're all just trying to make sense of this big, complicated, and wonderfully uncertain existence together.