Friday, November 13, 2015

An Open Letter to Oil Company CEOs




November 13, 2015

An open letter to oil company executives in Alberta,

In recent years, and in fact, in recent days, oil has become a dirty word. Our federal government is gearing up for presentations in Paris at the United Nations Climate Change Conference. Our provincial government will experience pressure to reconsider royalty rates and, if Saskatchewan is any indicator, pressure to create a new price for expelling carbon into the atmosphere. Those who capture carbon will be able to sell their rights and carbon will have a defined price.

In light of all of this, for the sake of our province, for the sake of our children and grand-children, for the sake of jobs, for the sake of my friends who are already looking for jobs and those who may be afraid they will soon be looking for jobs, can I please ask you to stop thinking like CEOs of Oil companies and ask you to start thinking like CEOs of Energy companies?

I have asked my friends in the oil and gas industry if their company is diversifying. They have responded, “Oh yes, we are diversifying. We used to be into nothing but conventional oil and now we have holdings in both heavy oil and conventional oil. With the latest downturn in oil prices we are diversifying back to conventional oil and even gas!” That’s not diversifying, CEOs! Or at least, it is not diversifying enough. What about diversifying into other forms of energy: building high capacity batteries, installing fields of solar panels, building wind turbines, or investing in fuel cell research? What about looking at other ways to provide energy and power?

For the sake of tomorrow, could I please ask you to do something different than wait for the roller-coaster ride of oil and gas to come back to the top? Please show us that you can truly diversify, for the sake of our unhealthy addiction to oil, for the sake of our province.

Keith Shields
Calgarian

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Artificial Intelligence




"What does it mean to be alive? To think, to feel, to love and to envy? André Alexis explores all of this and more in the extraordinary Fifteen Dogs, an insightful and philosophical meditation on the nature of consciousness. It's a novel filled with balancing acts: humour juxtaposed with savagery, solitude with the desperate need to be part of a pack, perceptive prose interspersed with playful poetry. A wonderful and original piece of writing that challenges the reader to examine their own existence and recall the age old question, what's the meaning of life?"[1]

This quote reminds us that authors and screenwriters have been writing about consciousness and the essence of life for a very long time. Fifteen Dogs, by Andre Alexis, which recently won the 2015 Scotiabank Giller Prize is a significant addition to the genre. If you add to this the concept of artificial intelligence (AI), as a related subject, the list of stories grows even longer. A few key questions continue to be asked. Would it ever be possible to create life? How would one know if life had been created? Would it ever be possible to create consciousness? How would one know if consciousness had been created? Would it be possible to create an artificial intelligence that was indistinguishable from a human? If one were able to do this, would it indeed be human? What does it mean to be human? Is there a need to protect humans from their own creations?

Ex Machina, a 2015 movie, focused on robots that were designed to be indistinguishable from humans. Even as the Giller Prize judges ruminate upon the words, “to think, to feel, to love, to envy,” so also do the writers of this screenplay. Another film, Her (2013), grappled with the concept of an intelligence that resided in the hardware of a computer and went on to develop feelings. Eventually the OS being was capable of learning beyond the capabilities of the ones who had created it and exhibited feelings for humans and other OS entities. Although a much older discussion, I, Robot, a 1950 collection of short-stories by famed Sci-Fi writer Isaac Asimov, asked questions about the safety of creating artificial intelligences and constructed the “Three Laws of Robotics.”
1.    A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2.    A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3.    A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.[2]
Nathan, the brilliant billionaire CEO of Bluebook, in the movie Ex Machina, would have saved himself a lot of trouble if he had read these principles of robotics and built them into his own version of the positronic brain.

Arthur C. Clarke, in his novel 2001: A Space Odyssey, wrote about a renegade computer that managed to outsmart a team of astronauts on a mission to one of the moons of Jupiter. The novel became a stunning movie in 1968 under the direction of Stanley Kubrick. The murderous computer, HAL 9000, considers himself a conscious entity and finds that he is afraid when he begins to lose his ability to think.[3]

In the Genesis creation account, we read that “God created human beings in his own image. In the image of God he created them; male and female he created them;” and for centuries, theologians and philosophers have been seeking to understand the nature of this imago dei (image of God). We have much yet to learn, but I am convinced that the beginning of wisdom is to take seriously this concept. The more we understand the nature of this image, the greater we will comprehend what it is that makes us truly human. God is a Creator and we are creators. God is in relationship and calls us to be in relationship with him and with others. God is a communicator and we are communicators. God is truth and calls us to truth. God is love and calls us to be love as well.

Whatever the final answers regarding the image of God, we need not fear the AI apocalypse that has been depicted in so many of the stories, movies and writings in our majority culture. God, who created us from the dust of the earth, and created the dust before that, is the ultimate creator and sustainer. He is in control of all life and has set humans to be stewards of His creation. Even as we struggle to achieve this assignment, and sometimes pursue short-cuts to cleaning up the messes we have made, the God of the universe watches us and engages us with gracious concern. May His will be done; for this is what it means to be alive.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Lest We Forget



A portion of "Recessional," a poem by Rudyard Kipling, composed in 1897.
God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle line—
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget! 
The tumult and the shouting dies—
The Captains and the Kings depart—
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget! 
Far-called our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
With "an humble and a contrite heart."

See also Recessional (poem), Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Recessional_(poem)

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Darling Lorraine




“Darling Lorraine” is a story-song by Paul Simon that tells of the emotional journey of Lorraine and Frank. By saying “emotional journey,” I mean that Simon is relating the ups and downs, the ecstasies and the miseries in the emotions of their relationship. He could have tracked the logic of the marriage or the history as seen from outside of the relationship; but instead, he follows the ebb and flow of their feelings for each other. It is a captivating window into one couple’s turbulent relationship. Interspersed throughout are insights into how feelings often overrule common sense. It is a cautionary tale of the power of emotions. Dallas Willard said, “Feelings are, with a few exceptions, good servants. But they are disastrous masters.”[1]

"Darling Lorraine"

The first time I saw her
I couldn't be sure
But the sin of impatience
Said "She's just what you're looking for"
So I walked right up to her
And with the part of me that talks
I introduced myself as Frank
From New York,
New York

She's so hot
She's so cool
I'm not
I'm just a fool in love with Darling Lorraine

All my life I've been a wanderer
Not really, I mostly lived near my parent’s home
Anyway Lorraine and I got married
And the usual marriage stuff
Then one day she says to me
From out of the blue
She says, "Frank, I've had enough
Romance is a heart-breaker
I'm not meant to be a homemaker
And I'm tired of being Darling Lorraine"

What!? you don't love me anymore?
What!? you're walking out the door?
What!? you don't like the way I chew?
Hey, let me tell you
You're not the woman that I wed
You say you're depressed but you're not
You just like to stay in bed
I don't need you darling Lorraine
Darling Lorraine
Lorraine
I long for your love

Financially speaking
I guess I'm a washout
Everybody's buy and sell
And sell and buy
That's what the whole thing's all about
If it had not been Lorraine
I'd have left here long ago
I should have been a musician
I love the piano

She's so light
She's so free
I'm tight, well, that's me
But I feel so good
With Darling Lorraine

On Christmas morning Frank awakes
To find Lorraine has made a stack of pancakes
They watch the television, husband and wife
All afternoon "It's a wonderful life"

What!? you don't love me anymore?
What!? you're walking out the door?
What!? you don't like the way I chew?
Hey let me tell you
You're not the woman that I wed
Gimme my robe I'm going back to bed
I'm sick to death of you Lorraine

Darling Lorraine
Lorraine
Her hands like wood
The doctor was smiling
But the news wasn't good

Darling Lorraine
Please don't leave me yet
I know you're in pain
Pain you can't forget
Your breathing is like an echo of our love
Maybe I'll go down to the corner store
And buy us something sweet
Here's an extra blanket honey
To wrap around your feet
All the trees were washed with April rain
And the moon in the meadow
Took Darling Lorraine

Words and music by Paul Simon
Copyright held by Universal Music Publishing Group

Works Cited:

Willard, Dallas. Renovation of the Heart. Carol Stream: NavPress, 2002.


[1] (Willard 2002)

Friday, November 6, 2015

Of Mulligans and the Love of Wisdom



For most of us, as we continue to think about who we are and the road that we have traveled, we find that there are both regrets and celebrations; there is obedience and inconsistency along the road. We find that we only partially live the philosophies by which we say we have chosen to live. Our “love of wisdom” – the literal meaning of philosophy – struggles with our philo-solatium – “love of comfort.” We sometimes wish we could go back to the beginning and live it better a second time around. Perhaps this is the reason why dreams of reincarnation are so prevalent. To borrow a term from golf: we would all like a “mulligan.”

Even if we could go back with greater wisdom, and a greater love for wisdom, we would still find ourselves making choices at each turn of our lives and with each revolution of the earth. How would we fair on the myriad of choices a second time around? I suggest that this would not so much be an instance of living our lives over again, but rather living someone else’s life. Each choice along the way would be a type of birth from which there would be no return.[1] Each choice would shape us and contribute to the person we would become. The product of the series of choices would look very unlike the person we are today. Going back is not an option.

Wendell Berry expresses a similar idea in one of his books entitled Hanna Coulter. A character in the story expresses it this way.

“You mustn’t wish for another life. You mustn’t want to be somebody else. What you must do is this:
“Rejoice evermore.
Pray without ceasing.
In everything give thanks.”
I am not all the way capable of so much, but those are the right instructions.”[2]
I will start again today. This “love of wisdom,” this “philosophy of life,” can guide me even when I am “not all the way capable of so much” for “those are the right instructions.” Even if you are not so convinced that those are the right instructions, you might try the path and see where it will lead. We can walk it together.





[1] See Berry, Wendell. Jayber Crow. Berkeley: Counterpoint, 2000; and Stages of Life - http://hungerandthirst4.blogspot.ca/2015/11/stages-of-life.html


[2] Wendell Berry, Hannah Coulter.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Stages of Life



“I know better by now than to try to predict what is to come. But of all of the stages of my life – Goforth, Squires Landing, The Good Shepherd; Pigeonville, Lexington, Port William – this one here on the riverbank bids fair to be the last. Unless of course I fall and break something or become an emergency of some other kind, and give up the ghost finally in front of the institutional TV set down at Hargrave. Who knows?”[1]

Chapter 27 of Wendell Berry’s Jayber Crow tells the story of Jayber moving from his life as the village barber to taking up residence in a “little camp house” along the river. From his “public life” to the commencement of “a private one.” As he moves, he reminisces about his life and its stages by referring to the places he had lived.

It got me thinking about the stages of my own life and the places I have lived. I wrote a list of all the places I could remember that I had lived. It wasn’t a long list and it was a good exercise for me. It occurred to me that the stages of my life did not always change with the location in which I lived. Sometimes it was just a move. Other times it was a paradigm shift in my way of life. I am a farmer’s son who helped with many a carpentry, mechanical, or veterinary task. I am the science nerd who created experiments to diagnose genetic disorders using the latest DNA technologies in a clinical laboratory. I have lived in one of the most densely populated portions of Vancouver and I have lived where there was a full section of land between us and our neighbours. I am a son, a husband, a father, and a grandfather. I am a pastor, church planter, teacher, and administrator. I am the generalist who knows something about many topics. I have spent time regretting that I have not learned enough in one specific area and I have rejoiced in the fact that God has given me a good mind with which to understand the world. I have spoken with people who were at the top of their field of science, philosophy, education, theology, entertainment, and financial investment. I have spoken with people who suffered abuse and who went on to harm others and spend a good portion of their life in prison. I have seen people healed of their diseases and I have watched friends die at a young age.

Much like the character of Jayber Crow, I would say that “Some of the changes in my life were imposed, and some were chosen. . . And each change has been a birth, each having taken me to a new life from which I could not go back.”[2] I have often wondered what would have happened if there were other impositions or other choices along the way. “But of course I have no answer.”[3]

Works Cited:

Berry, Wendell. Jayber Crow. Berkeley: Counterpoint, 2000.



[1] Berry, Wendell, Jayber Crow, p. 299.
[2] Berry, Wendell, Jayber Crow, p. 299.
[3] Berry, Wendell, Jayber Crow, p. 299.

Monday, November 2, 2015

Write As If You Were Dying



There are times when I struggle with what to write in my blog. Annie Dillard is often a source of inspiration.
Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audience consisting solely of terminal patients. That is, after all, the case. What would you begin writing if you knew you would die soon? What could you say to a dying person that would not enrage by its triviality?[1]
What will come of this? What would I write if I wrote as if I were dying?



[1] The Writing Life; Annie Dillard; 1989.