On Truth and Arbitration

Dearest Father,

As expected my quest continues, enriching my young mind in the process. I have met many on this path, both seasoned lovers of Sophia and young amateurs like myself, but it seems none wants to give me the time of day. I do not blame them; I myself am not a very talkative fellow. I am sure a single look at my scowling visage, as my winged companion rambles on on whatever topic he fancies, has served as a deterrent for many a prospective friend. I have been very busy with my regular duties as a human, and the next few weeks promise to be rather hectic. I am approaching a milestone in my training, a point at which I shall finally be awarded a document that states I am worthy to call myself a bachelor in my art, and the days leading up to such a ceremony are bound to be tasking. This perhaps explains why I’ve found myself scowling more often than not. It is certainly not as a result of my little friend’s ramblings; he knows better than to speak on issues surrounding my studies. With matters so pressing I cannot afford to entertain his musings for more than a few minutes.

I will not bore you, Father, with tales of my studies. I suspect you will not find such topics too interesting. On the issue of my quest, however, I must say that it is going rather swimmingly. Now I may not be able to travel very far in the coming weeks – the aforementioned issues have all but captivated my attention – but the progress I have made thus far has been very rewarding indeed.

With regards to Platocrates and his Republic, it has finally become clear to me exactly why the book is called thus. Initially it boggled the mind as to why a treatise concerning justice would bother with the description of a state, but it seems that in order to show his listeners and readers what the true meaning of justice is, Platocrates has elected to construct the perfect city – he reasons that in such a city the most perfect rendition of justice would be all too easily discovered. This is an act I find both admirable and slightly annoying. Admirable, for it shows the immense dedication of the lover with whom I have cast my lot; annoying, because it makes this one segment of my journey stretch even longer. I would much rather he got to the point in short order, but I suspect that his long-windedness will eventually pay off. I have already learned quite a bit from his words so far, not in the least of which is the fact that he eventually bests whomever questions his postulations. I suspect this is because we are passively experiencing his account on the matter, an account that attempts to drive home a point. As the points are being made by Platocrates himself, it would certainly be odd if each and every one was struck down and he was shown to be the fool. There is also the fact that we are reading a one-sided account of the dialogues. For all we know Platocrates did miss a few points that fateful afternoon in the house of Polemarchus, and pride kept him from writing about it.

As I settle in to follow him on this journey into the perfect city, I suspect it will not be long before you start seeing missives from me addressing both these issues: justice and perfection. While Platocrates may seek to join them in order to make a point, this young lover still considers them to be very separate things indeed.

On the Numidian’s Confessions, an almost similar theme is discovered. When I left him, Augustine was lamenting his sinful nature, comparing some of the ways of your children with those of their almighty Father, and of course finding them lacking. He spoke about the deplorable nature of his youth, with his wayward father and his good, but at times misguided, mother. All of this was delivered, of course, with the requisite tone of exultation, as the Numidian never misses an opportunity to praise you and your ways, even the manner in which you mete out punishment.

Perhaps it is because I am also walking the path of justice with Platocrates, but his mention and acceptance of your punishments made me think once more of justice and what it means to be just, especially for one such as yourself. I doubt Platocrates will address divine justice in his dialogue, and so I expect that this is another issue on which you will soon be hearing from me. If I am finally to find and understand you, understanding the purpose and impetus behind the laws with which you rule the universe is essential, no?

Aside from the lessons I am learning from my wonderful teachers, I still have my once little friend to contend with. As I mentioned, I have found it very easy to ignore his mutterings these past few days; my human duties leave no space in my head to entertain him. As you know his questions, per his name, always play on my perceived ignorance. He finds anything that I may have ever questioned before, even in my earliest days, and he brings the full force of his evil voice to bear upon it. It has occurred to me in the weeks past that if I am to rid myself of him completely, I must be certain of the answers I give him; I must be as convicted as the greatest elders in the House, as wise as Sophie’s most prolific lovers. Unfortunately, for one as conscientious as myself, in order to be certain of my answers I must be convinced that they are true, and if there is one thing I have discovered thus far Father, it is that finding the truth is very hard indeed.

The subject of truth is one that I know many lovers of Sophie have battled with across centuries and millennia. One cannot know Sophia if one does not know truth, but how does one know when one has found truth? Of course the very question of how one knows anything is an even more fundamental problem for lovers of Sophie, one that ties directly to my conundrum with Doubt. Once again I find myself envious of you, dearest Father. Such petty questions as how to know what you know have never bothered you; would that I could be like you in that regard.

Now I am sure that countless men before me have tackled the issue of truth in an attempt to settle it once and for all. As an amateur on this path, I cannot even hope to come to conclusions as rich and as complex as theirs. For this I ask your forgiveness, dear Father; whatever you read in this letter today will be but the simple musings of a child plagued by a wily foe…

As a younger man, the question of truth was a non-issue for me. I believed everything I was told by parents and elders, and in my mind those things were true. I did not know any better, you see, and, as you must have observed in your children, in the absence of actual, concrete knowledge, anything goes. If we are not told what to believe we create our own beliefs, extrapolating from whatever foundations we have previously established until we arrive at a worldview. The problem arises when something challenges this worldview. At such a moment we have two choices: change our views, or prove to ourselves that our views are true while the other view, the challenger, is false. Of course I have found my challenger in my companion.

Now a long time ago I believed that logic, or to my young mind sense, was a good metric for determining what was true and what was not. Things that made sense were true, and things that did not were not. Of course this is a very flimsy method of determining the truth, and when Doubt finally came along it was not long before I was made aware of this. On this journey alone I have discovered numerous positions taken by various lovers of Sophie, all addressing the same issues, and yet all diametrically opposed to each other. The presence of multiple Families within the House is another immediate strike-down for this line of reasoning. To a certain extent, as much as my inexperienced mind can discern, the positions held by the chief dissenter at the time of the Great Rebellion made quite a bit of sense. I have often told myself that had I been alive with the German at the time, I may have joined his cause. Many positions put forth by members of the Family of Rebels make sense; in many ways they are logically consistent. The same can be said of the core beliefs of my Universal Family. And while I do not know much about them, I am fairly certain that the Orthodox Family, which broke off long before the Rebels even came into view, also has teachings that are sensible and logically consistent. And yet all these Families vehemently disagree on fine points, and all of them teach that each is the true way to your heart and the Great Upstairs. From this alone it is rather evident that sense, or logic, is not enough to ascertain what is true; after all, even Doubt’s words make sense. Evidently in order to find truth, its essence must be separated from that of logic and sensibility.

After some thought it occurred to me that at its core, a truth is something that is accurate, a fact. A statement such as “John is male” is true in so far as the concept described by male can accurately be attached to the person known as John. Now there is a danger for me to devolve into definitions of “concept” and “knowledge”, and Doubt is whispering dangerous nothings into my ear, trying to compel me to verify exactly what these are. But I am tired, and my mind is not yet formed, so I beg that you use basic intuition to understand what it is that I mean. (Even the word “intuition” causes the creature to smile.) I do not think this should be a problem for you, Father. While mere humans may quibble over the true meanings of these words, you see into my heart; you must know exactly what I am trying to describe.

From the aforementioned definition it becomes clear that every statement that asserts something has the potential for truth, including this one. In fact I can say that most of the sentences I have written to you thus far possess truth-potential; all that is required is the fulfilment of such potential, their verification if you will. In this way the question of logic becomes a secondary one, one that I must admit is difficult to push aside. Whether by nature or by nurture, I look with disdain upon statements that make no logical sense; I am far more likely to consider an inconsistent statement to be false than to consider it true. But if we are to go by our new definition of truth then its logical consistency is irrelevant. “John is not John”, while apparently nonsensical could in fact be true. One just needs to ascertain this fact and harvest, so to speak, its truth-potential.

In the absence of verification, it seems then that a statement simply remains a statement, neither true nor false as far as the observer is concerned. Of course it is one or the other, (or perhaps – senselessly – both) but not neither… or is it? Doubt is toying with me once again. For now we will state that it must be one or the other. The fact remains that it is impossible to tell which until verified. Such a statement, hanging in the nebula of truth-limbo, could then be termed an “arbitration”, a simple string of words whose actual value is yet to be discovered. And as long as this arbitration is logically consistent, newer, assumed truths can be spun from it and entire paths can be forged in its name.

It seems to me that this is exactly what has happened in reference to the countless things that we your children, both within the House and without it, find ourselves at loggerheads over. Regardless of the truth value of the statements made, it seems some great men have made many arbitrations and, assuming them to be true, have dedicated their lives to the logical implications that follow. By so doing their viewpoints appear very attractive to those of us that hold logical consistency in high esteem, or at the very least agree with, for whatever reason, the underlying arbitration. This of course is most applicable to the differences between the Family of Rebels and the Universals, where with the Rebels I believe there are five fundamental arbitrations, listed and championed by the dissenting German elder, Luther. I am neither disposed, nor do I believe I know enough, to tackle these arbitrations and unearth their real truth value, but it is an exercise I am sure I would undertake at some point.

I like this conclusion, Father, because even Doubt is silent and pensive as I write this. To summarise, I believe there are statements whose truth values may or may not be known. When they are known we can safely term them truths, and as long as they are not we must view them as arbitrations and tread carefully in our consideration of them. Of course such a worldview makes you the Great Arbiter, for whatever you speak becomes the truth, immediately shaping the universe to your desires. The world, then, is nothing more than one very long statement spoken from your lips, in an instant both arbitration and truth. Such a realisation, dear Father, is very humbling indeed.

With much thought,

Your Prodigal Son

P.S. Not to be outdone my companion has pointed out that all of this is nothing but verbose arbitration, and I agree with him. I cannot describe my glee at the horrified look on his face.

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5 thoughts on “On Truth and Arbitration

  1. […] my last letter I attempted to define truth, to make the distinction between things that were true and things that were simply appealing. It […]

  2. […] few weeks have seen me list for you the troubles one such as myself has had with defining a concept as basic as truth. Every step of my journey has been plagued by the dangerous whisperings of my despised companion. […]

  3. […] you recall, the past few letters I have written have dealt with the nature of truth and the state of mind oftentimes required for weak children like myself to even consider such lofty […]

  4. […] evil seems almost childish in hindsight, for you truly are above such petty nonsense. You are the Great Arbiter, the one whose words, whose arbitrations immediately become the very truth of the universe. This is […]

  5. […] you remember Father, in our bid to discover the meaning of truth we realised that a lot of what we took as fact was nothing but simple arbitration, statements that […]

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