(no subject)
Once I was asked how, if at all, one could prove that the Earth does indeed revolve around the sun. In my ignorance, I replied that I could build a spacecraft propel myself beyond the Earth’s stratosphere and wait for an indeterminable period of time until it became clear to me that the Earth was truly orbiting the sun. From a short-sighted empirical point of view this makes perfect sense. After all, if I want to find out if my television can float the surest way would be to take it outside, walk to my pool, and throw it in. But I was wrong about employing this type of experimental verification to the Earth’s revolution around the sun. In fact, in the most living of senses, I was dead wrong. The question, of course, becomes how I was wrong. The short answer is as Galileo once said, “Movement is as nothing.” The long answer is this: the greatest mistake we as humans have ever made is thinking that we are static. This plagued philosophers and scientists for over a thousand years. We see evidence for this in geocentric models of the solar system. Am I moving? Of course not- I don’t feel like I’m moving. I can’t be moving. But everything is moving. The reason I can’t prove the Earth revolves around the sun by going to space is that I too am moving. An object can only be described as moving in reference to a fixed point. I am not a fixed point. Let’s take Foucault’s pendulum as an example. Foucault wanted, like myself, to prove something. He wanted to prove that the Earth rotates on its axis. So like my idea of going to space he figured he would hang a pendulum from the roof of the Pantheon. As time passed, the swinging of the pendulum would change direction. If it started swinging north to south it would begin to swing east to west. Furthermore, if the pendulum was placed at one of the Earth’s poles it would turn completely around. However, due to the latitude of Paris the pendulum performed an incomplete rotation. Now let’s pretend a very clever observer walked into the Pantheon while this lunatic Foucault was getting way too excited over a swinging pendulum. Our clever observer would most likely ask why the pendulum is changing its direction and Foucault, who had probably been dying for someone to ask him, would reply, “Voila! The pendulum is not moving. It is an illusion. I have proved that the Earth is rotating on its axis.” But Foucault was wrong and like me he would probably retire to his chamber feeling like an intellectual McLovin’. The question, again, becomes how Foucault was wrong. And thus the answer, again, is as Galileo said, “Movement is as nothing.”
Now let’s turn to a much broader or more philosophical quandary- this one, again, in regards to the sun. In the eighteenth century, the philosopher David Hume wanted to know how he could be certain that the sun would once again rise tomorrow morning. So he, like all philosophers do, crafted an argument, which goes as follows:
In our past experience, the sun has always risen
Therefore, in the future the sun will probably rise.
This was cool except that Hume noticed something particularly discomforting: the hidden premise that the future will continue to be like the past. With the hidden premise revealed the argument appears as follows:
In our past experience, the sun has always risen
The future will continue to be like the past
Therefore, in the future the sun will probably rise.
Once I was asked how, if at all, one could prove that the Earth does indeed revolve around the sun. In my ignorance, I replied that I could build a spacecraft propel myself beyond the Earth’s stratosphere and wait for an indeterminable period of time until it became clear to me that the Earth was truly orbiting the sun. From a short-sighted empirical point of view this makes perfect sense. After all, if I want to find out if my television can float the surest way would be to take it outside, walk to my pool, and throw it in. But I was wrong about employing this type of experimental verification to the Earth’s revolution around the sun. In fact, in the most living of senses, I was dead wrong. The question, of course, becomes how I was wrong. The short answer is as Galileo once said, “Movement is as nothing.” The long answer is this: the greatest mistake we as humans have ever made is thinking that we are static. This plagued philosophers and scientists for over a thousand years. We see evidence for this in geocentric models of the solar system. Am I moving? Of course not- I don’t feel like I’m moving. I can’t be moving. But everything is moving. The reason I can’t prove the Earth revolves around the sun by going to space is that I too am moving. An object can only be described as moving in reference to a fixed point. I am not a fixed point. Let’s take Foucault’s pendulum as an example. Foucault wanted, like myself, to prove something. He wanted to prove that the Earth rotates on its axis. So like my idea of going to space he figured he would hang a pendulum from the roof of the Pantheon. As time passed, the swinging of the pendulum would change direction. If it started swinging north to south it would begin to swing east to west. Furthermore, if the pendulum was placed at one of the Earth’s poles it would turn completely around. However, due to the latitude of Paris the pendulum performed an incomplete rotation. Now let’s pretend a very clever observer walked into the Pantheon while this lunatic Foucault was getting way too excited over a swinging pendulum. Our clever observer would most likely ask why the pendulum is changing its direction and Foucault, who had probably been dying for someone to ask him, would reply, “Voila! The pendulum is not moving. It is an illusion. I have proved that the Earth is rotating on its axis.” But Foucault was wrong and like me he would probably retire to his chamber feeling like an intellectual McLovin’. The question, again, becomes how Foucault was wrong. And thus the answer, again, is as Galileo said, “Movement is as nothing.”
Now let’s turn to a much broader or more philosophical quandary- this one, again, in regards to the sun. In the eighteenth century, the philosopher David Hume wanted to know how he could be certain that the sun would once again rise tomorrow morning. So he, like all philosophers do, crafted an argument, which goes as follows:
In our past experience, the sun has always risen
Therefore, in the future the sun will probably rise.
This was cool except that Hume noticed something particularly discomforting: the hidden premise that the future will continue to be like the past. With the hidden premise revealed the argument appears as follows:
In our past experience, the sun has always risen
The future will continue to be like the past
Therefore, in the future the sun will probably rise.