Month: April 2021

A macrocosm is analogous to looking at the world from a philosophic point of view. It paints a broad picture to encapsulate and explain all the variances that occur within it. It might have a ring of truth to it, something that we can identify with, relate to, but does it hold up overtime? And what about the nuances–the facts that diverge from it, deviate from its conclusions?

In novels, a macrocosm could be the world that is created within the story. Thus, the microcosm is the the narrative that follows the protagonist, not to mention the characters and the antagonist. A macrocosm is like the setting, whereas the microcosm is the plot of the story. They work side by side since the macrocosm is just the staging (the background) of the story, whereas the plot is the main focus.

But when it comes to knowledge about the world in relation to our experience, there seems to be a disconnect between the two. People seem to either tilt toward a macroscopic lens, or a microscopic one. From the macroscopic lens, they try to explain things in grandiose terms (the big picture), elucidating laws and principles while ignoring the variances, subtleties, the grey areas that exist. Those that tend to look at the world microscopically look at the world from their own circumstance, anecdotally, or from their own specialized field (i.e. history, economics, literature, etc.).

Both viewpoints give an incomplete picture, since they either miss the principles and laws that are at work (the big picture), or the minute details and variances that do not fit neatly within broader terms.

The reason why a book can harmonize the macrocosm and microcosm so inseparably is because it doesn’t need to be about everything: taking into account every natural law, or every human experience. It only needs to be about the protagonist and their story arc.

At the end of a story, we want to know what happens to them, how they are affected by the trials that they overcame and faced. Therefore, there’s no ambiguity or confusion about what the story is about. It had a clear goal in mind. There’s no tangent about some irrelevant aspect of their world, or about some side character that had no relevance to the plot. A story is organized in such a way that there is in order, a goal, a conclusion.

In a book, the story encapsulates a philosophic system based on the world and the outcome, whether it is dystopian or utopian, pessimistic or optimistic, because the author paints a world that the characters live in. Obviously, the world we live in is not the same as a book. Our world is indifferent, impartial to our thoughts, wants, and needs. We must adapt to it, learn, grow, and apply ourselves in a way that conform to the environment.

Thus, the macrocosm of our world, which we call reality (or the objective world), is just the setting for which we pursue the values we believe in (our microcosm). Although our values may change with time, we cannot change reality in the same manner (i.e. by thought or will alone). We can modify the environment, make it suitable and habitable, but we cannot bend the rules which govern the world. That’s where science comes in–understanding the rules which underly the natural order of things.

There is a difference between the life we live, and the world in which we live in. When we try to explain everything from our experience, we try to explain it from a microscopic lens. We ignore the fact that reality cannot be bent, twisted, or reshaped arbitrarily. It is what it is despite how we would like it to be. When we try to explain reality from the world we live in, we ignore the life we live, including the domains of morality, creativity, family, happiness, etc.

As a result, each perspective, on its own, gives us an inaccurate representation of the whole picture. It creates a false dichotomy where we either look at things naturalistically (materialistically), or humanistically (based on our judgments, needs, wants, etc.). Because both perspectives are separate and distinct, we must look at things from another lens.

Within the microcosm of our experience, it is always directed toward achieving something, reaching toward a goal. Life cannot be lived passively, since change can only happen when we act–work toward a goal. That goal can be survival, comfort, happiness, knowledge, etc.

The history of science and mathematics has been a laborous and difficult climb toward understanding the reality we live in. It has made possible technological innovations, medicine, you name it, which have made life at present incalculably more comfortable and convenient compared to centuries ago. Thus, we must frame the macrocosm and the microcosm not as distinct, passive, and neutral domains, but as ones being guided by a purpose. That purpose is the reason why we undertake them and study them: to improve our lives.

Therefore the microcosm of our life isn’t just a set of random experiences, emotions and feelings, but one guided toward improving life. In the same way, the macrocosm isn’t just a set of laws and facts about nature, but an encyclopedia of knowledge to help us advance science, technology, and medicine, and thus, to make our world safer, and to reduce suffering.

I think we so often forget the reason and purpose behind why we study the sciences and humanities in the first place. It’s as if we undertake them just for the sake of a degree, a job, and without a perspective of how different life would be without the things we take for granted (i.e. clean water, electricity, medicine, etc.). It’s why people sometimes look at these fields as just being a collection of facts, dates, and names to memorize, rather than having a practical purpose: to teach us how to build and engineer the impossible, and to learn how to live better.

When we look at the microcosm of a structure or system, we focus on the particulars rather than the whole picture itself. When we become focused on the particulars, we look at the details, the minute components that make up the whole.

But we might end up so fixated on the details that we forget about the big picture. For a writer, it’s kind of like focusing on editing one chapter of a story, then a paragraph of that chapter (maybe even a sentence), and then ignoring the rest of the chapter.

Or it’s like a scientist that studies a plant, and then the leaves of that plant, and the cells of that plant, and the organelles of the cell, and the molecules that compose the organelles, and then they get so lost in studying the molecules that they forget why they were studying the plant in the first place.

To study the microcosm of anything can give us insight and knowledge of the components and mechanisms which function and operate within a structure or system. But how far do we go in our study? At what point do we stop analyzing each minuscule detail to the point that we lose sight of our goal, which is to understand the big picture, rather than the countless tangents and the endless number of microcosms it can lead us down?

What does it mean to be humble? To be humble is to acknowledge the fact that we are human. As humans, we make mistakes, learn, fall and get up like everyone else.

We can assign value to the money we make, our intellect, our status, our rank in a field or sport, but these gloss over the existential aspects of humanity. It is our humanity which makes us common–equal in the metaphysical sense (having faculties, sense perception, consciousness, free will, etc.).

When we look at the world from a quantitive lens, it can be hard to be humble. Everyone has a different net worth. Everyone has different skills, different achievements, and different areas of expertise. As a result, a small percentage will be at the very top. If we create a graph from it, we will get a bell curve with many people normally distributed in the middle. When we judge each individual this way, it’s as if we become focused on where they rank.

But rank can change overtime. And rank doesn’t give a wholistic picture of the complexity of each individual. Rather, it gives us a picture of the data, but not the personalities behind them–the life behind them.

And that’s where humility comes in. To be humble, we recognize that there is a story behind each person in the graph. There is a struggle, a challenge to overcome, obstacles, setbacks, failures, victories, etc.

As such, just because someone might be successful in one area, it doesn’t mean they are in others. They might excel at their job and have various accomplishments and awards under their belt, but what about the other areas in their life? What about their shortcomings, or the multitude of things they have little to no knowledge in, little to no achievements in?

Thus, to be humble is to acknowledge this truth that is common to all of us. To quote Socrates, “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”