Is it better to live a harsh reality or a comfortable fantasy? And why? This is
one interpretation of a key question faced by Neo, the hero of the movie The
Matrix. Neo has a conversation with the rather enigmatic Morpheus, who explains
that what Neo has always perceived as “reality,” including his friends, his job,
and his entire existence in 20th century America, is actually a simulation
caused by a race of computers that has taken over earth long ago and has
enslaved human beings. Our brains, according to Morpheus, are simply kept alive
in a fantasy world so that we can provide electricity to the machines. But a few
individuals are occasionally able to disconnect themselves from this matrix of
fantasy and regain control of their body, thereby fighting a desperate battle
for supremacy on the planet. Now, Morpheus says, Neo has two choices. If he
takes a blue pill that he is being offered, he will forget about the matrix and
go back to his illusory but relatively safe and predictable life. Take the red
pill, however, and you will see the world as it really is. The trade-off is
clear: comfortable fantasy or harsh reality? What would you choose, and why?
Some philosophy students, who essentially questioned the assumptions
underlying the choice, have proposed a radical way around the dilemma. What
makes us think that Morpheus is telling the truth? What if it is the red pill
that leads to an imaginary world? This is a valid epistemological point. How do
you know what is real and what is not? What kind of evidence do you have that
you were dreaming last night of being a butterfly, and are you not in fact a
butterfly who is now dreaming of being a human being? There are some reasonable,
though by no means foolproof, ways out of this basic dilemma. For example,
dreams—unlike what we consider reality—have no temporal continuity and are often
characterized by arbitrary rules of engagement (contrary to, say, the laws of
physics). But Neo did not have such a luxury, since in his case both situations
felt very real. Furthermore, some people on drugs, or affected by particular
brain disorders, really do have a hard time distinguishing between reality and
hallucinations.
However, this kind of existential response based on radical skepticism skirts
an interesting question. Let us assume that we have good reasons to believe
Morpheus (as Neo does in the movie, given some recent disturbing experiences
that had shaken his conception of reality); what would you then do about it?
In essence, the choice can be seen as one between truth and happiness (albeit
the latter may be of a rather limited variety). In this sense, the question
becomes of utmost interest and of surprising practical relevance. For example,
you are faced by this dilemma when you examine your religious beliefs. Since
there is no more evidence for the existence of a god than for the existence of
unicorns, but believing in god makes you feel more comfortable and gives eternal
meaning to your life, should you believe the unbelievable or attempt to find
your way through the tortuous road of secular morality and meaning? Of course,
most people don’t really choose to believe in a god, they rather culturally
inherit such belief from their parents and friends; but most of us do arrive at
the rejection of god by an often long process of questioning during which we are
faced with terrible questions of existential meaning and of good and evil. In
this sense, consciously becoming an agnostic or atheist is indeed more difficult
than the other path, and it is like taking Neo’s red pill.
Less controversial (if you actually believe in god and don’t therefore buy
the above argument) but equally dramatic is the choice of taking or not taking
drugs. The “reality” offered by drugs is more pleasurable (at least temporarily)
than the real life out there, especially for poor or psychologically damaged
people. Why not avoid the pain and go for the blue option? A minor version of
the same question could be framed in terms of choosing entertainment over
meaningful activities: why not just spend your life watching TV, or drinking
beer, or—when this will be technologically feasible—shut yourself in a
holodeck-like virtual reality where you can have all the food, sex partners, and
riches you like?
Most people I talked to (but this was by no means an unbiased sample) chose
the red pill, yet I found quite a bit of disagreement on the motives.
Essentially, however, there are two main reasons that can be advanced for taking
red over blue: pragmatic and ethical ones.
The pragmatic motive is that living in an imaginary world can be pretty
dangerous. One of the reasons human beings have been so successful during
evolution is precisely because our large brains have an uncanny capability of
assessing reality, of finding cause-effect connections, and therefore of
manipulating the world to our advantage. One could object that plenty of people
in modern society believe all sorts of weird things, from astrology to gods, and
yet seem to function reasonably well, thank you very much. But this is because,
in fact, most of the time they do not act on their beliefs. For example, while
many people would claim to leave their lives in god’s hands when they are so
questioned, they nevertheless take out insurance policies, look on both sides of
the road before crossing, and go regularly to the doctor, if they can afford it.
When they do behave according to a strict adherence to fantastic beliefs, bad
things happen. A recurrent example is offered by Christian Scientists who die
(or, worse, let their children die) because they do not believe in getting
medical attention when they are sick. Reality does have a way of biting your
back side.
The ethical reason represents an even more general answer to Neo’s question:
regardless of practical consequences or of feelings of pleasure and discomfort,
it is simply right to choose the red pill. We are social beings, and by nature
we have a tendency to relate to other humans and to help them out, especially if
they are our kin or friends. This tendency constitutes the basis of most of our
ethical systems, and it implies that it is our duty not to shut ourselves out of
the world in order to simply seek pleasure or avoid pain. This, however, begs
the question of what is right to begin with and of how we determine it,
something that I have covered, and will come back to, in this column.
Essentially, we are now faced with the radical moral skeptic question: why
bother, if it does not affect your own happiness?
The point is, even a science fiction movie can generate profound
philosophical questions, and these in turn are not necessarily idle speculations
on the sex of angels but give us the opportunity to examine some of our most
basic choices and their often far-reaching consequences. And remember, an
unexamined life is not worth living. Or is it?
