We can easily understand how such beliefs, bolstered as they are from within, have been retained throughout the generations. The promise of an afterlife, espoused by all the sensible people around you, makes many of this life's sorrows easier to bear. And, as we've seen in recent years, belief in a Paradise for those who die fighting for the faith in a Holy War makes you pretty well invincible. [1] Such invincibility is a side-effect of the memeplex's belief tactics, not a certification of the truth of the bomber's faith. Especially given that nearly all of those who share the bomber's faith (Islam, Catholicism ... ) deny that their beliefs justify killing unbelievers.
This plurality of theist beliefs, especially in today's mixed-up world with its different cultures and multicultures, encourages a more critical belief in authority, and usually a willingness to admit
[1] Although it does seem a little strange that Palestinian terrorists protect their genitals, for use in Paradise, when setting themselves up as suicide bombers.
commonality with other theists. Such common ground encourages the integration of different cultures. Many minorities are assimilated and disappear, but others react by emphasising their individuality. Some of the latter, like the Thuggee worshippers of the death goddess Kali in nineteenth-century India, and the recent al-Qaeda terrorists, gain temporary notoriety that seems to be a triumph of their faith. However, this is usually self-defeating in the longer term. In any event, the number of deaths is no comment, plus or minus, upon the truth of the beliefs that these thugs hold. The faith of these militant minorities sometimes gains sharpness and even subtlety, but it is usually subordinated to the day-to-day exigencies of the violent lives they lead.
Many great scientists, for example Galileo, were ridiculed when they proposed new insights into the natural world. Scientific crackpots often deduce that because their work is being ridiculed, they must be the new Galileo, but that doesn't follow. Similarly, men of violence often try to validate their `martyrdom' by comparing themselves to ancient Christians or ghetto Jews, and again the logic is flawed. There is no rational reason to accept any of their gods as part of the real universe, however helpful that belief might be to some people as regards day-to-day living. Despite that, many clever, honest people do feel that a God is necessary to their understanding of how everything is organised. Once a memeplex has caught you, it's hard to escape.
We have a little more sympathy with deists, who mostly seem to believe that the universe is extraordinarily complex, yet possesses an overall simplicity, and that this points to some celestial guardian who looks after the whole thing and gives it meaning. Ponder Stibbons and Mustrum Ridcully, in their different ways, edge towards deism; they want to feel that `someone' is at the helm. If challenged, deists usually deny the anthropomorphic character of this guardian, but they still retain a belief in the ability of individual people - perhaps individual `souls' - to relate directly with whoever or whatever is in charge. We personally doubt that such apparent interactions, whether attained by meditation or prayer, are more than selfdelusion. But we are happy to live on the same planet as people who believe that they are in direct contact with ultimate causality, however unscientific we may feel that belief to be.
There is a growing minority of thoughtful people who have given up on the idea of a personal, anthropomorphic God altogether. Some, particularly among Buddhists and Taoists, retain the mystical/metaphysical stance that is characteristic of religion, and consider the `scientific' world to be subservient to a mystical true picture more closely related to subjective experience. In contrast, those of us who were persuaded by Spinoza's rejection of an anthropomorphic God, not least because neither the universe nor an omnipotent deity can exist without being coextensive with everything there is, see the scientific view as exposing both the nature of god, if that is our belief, through the laws by which things work, and the workings of the universe itself.
Many scientists, particularly those whose endeavours relate closely to the real world, like geologists, astronomers, biologists, ecologists, and polymer chemists, avoid the mystical approach and see their own speciality as exemplifying a complex slice of the universe, with many emergent properties that are not predictable from the detailed substructure. Other scientists, particularly those devoted to reductionist explanations, like physicists, astrophysicists, physical chemists, molecular biologists, and geneticists, retain a version of the mystical approach, but try to explain higher level behaviour in terms of the substructure. Tellingly, many scientists who work at the `coal face' of the subject generally have a respect for the unknown possibilities that the universe might throw at them, whereas workers in more abstract realms like quantum theory have a tendency to go all mystical about their own understanding, or lack of it.
Most human attempts-at an explanation try to find a thin causal chain of logic and narrative, leading from things we accept to
whatever it is we are trying to explain. This type of story appeals to human minds, but it is usually an oversimplification, and it leads to serious misunderstandings. The typical television science programme, where a single individual is held to be responsible for some big `breakthrough', paints a wildly inaccurate picture of the incremental process by which most scientific advances are made. Unicausal explanations make nice stories, but fail to capture the complexities of the real world. The most effective explanations are often very varied, and it's a good idea to find a lot of different ones, if they're available. Physicists searching for a unification of relativity and quantum theory should perhaps bear in mind the possibility that any unification may turn out to be less effective than the two separate theories, each safely confined to its own domain. Only if you can get several theories to compete, in your mental territory, can you begin to distil understanding.
TWENTY-THREE
THE GOD OF EVOLUTION
`DOING WELL BUT LOTS STILL TO BE DONE!' barked Ridcully, striding out of the magic circle into the Great Hall. `Everything all right, Mr Stibbons?'
`Yes, Sir. You didn't try to stop the God of Evolution talking to Darwin, did you?'
`No, you said we shouldn't,' said Ridcully briskly.
`Good. It had to happen,' said Ponder. `So all we need to do now is persuade Mr Darwin-'
`I've been thinking about that, Stibbons,' Ridcully interrupted, `and I have decided that you will now take Mr Darwin to meet our God of Evolution on his island,' said the Archchancellor. `It's quite safe.'
Ponder went pale. `I'd really rather not go there, sir!'
`However, you will, because I am Archchancellor and you are not' said Ridcully. `Let's see what he thinks of the wheeled elephant, eh?'
Ponder glanced at Darwin, still in the blue glow of stasis. `That's very dangerous, sir. Think of what he'll be seeing! And it would be quite unethical to remove the memories that-'
`I know I am Archchancellor, it's written on my door!' said Ridcully. `Show him his god, Mr Stibbons, and leave the worrying to me. Quickly, man. I want this all wrapped up by dinnertime!'
A moment after Ponder and Darwin left, a small boulder and quite a lot of sand appeared and slid across the tiles of the Great Hall.
`Well done, Mr Hex,' said Ridcully.
+++ Thank you, Archchancellor +++ Hex wrote.
`I was kind of hoping we'd get the chairs back, though.'
+++ I will see what I can do next time, Archchancellor +++
And on Mono Island, Charles Darwin picked himself up from the beach and stared around.
`Does this lend itself to any rational explanation, or is it more madness?' he said to Ponder. `I have cut my hand quite badly!'
At which point two little leaves pushed themselves out of the ground near his foot and, with amazing speed, became a plant. It threw up more leaves, then developed a single red flower which opened like an explosion and died like a spark to produce one single seed, which was white and fluffy.
`Oh, a bandage plant,' said Ponder, picking it. `Here you are, sir.'
`How-' Darwin began.
/>
`It just understood what you needed, sir,' said Ponder, leading the way. `This is Mono Island, the home of the God of Evolution.'
`A god of evolution?' said Darwin, stumbling after him. `But evolution is a process inherent in-'
`Ye - yes, I know what you're thinking, sir. But things are different here. There is a god of evolution and he ... improves things. That's why we think everything here is desperate to get off the island, poor creatures. Somehow they know what you want and evolve as fast as they can in the hope you'll pick them to take away.'
`That is not possible! Evolution needs many thousands of years to-'
`Pencil,' said Ponder, calmly. A tree nearby shivered.
`Actually, the pencil bush breeds true in the right soil,' Ponder went on, walking over to it. `We've got some of these at the University. And the Chair of Indefinite Studies kept a cigarette tree going for months, but they got very tarry. Once most of them get far enough away from Mono island they stop trying.' He held one out. `Would you like a ripe pencil? They're quite useful.'
Darwin took the slim cylinder Ponder had plucked from the tree. It was warm, and still slightly moist.
`This is Mono Island, you see,' said Ponder, and pointed to the small mountain at the far end of the island. `Up there is where the god lives. Not a bad old boy, as gods go, but he will keep changing things all the time. When we met him he-'
The bushes rustled, and Ponder dragged the bemused Darwin aside as something rattled down the path.
`That's a giant tortoise!' said Darwin, as it trundled past. `That at least is something - oh!'
`Yes.'
`It's on wheels!'
`Oh, yes. He's very keen on wheels. He thinks wheels should work.'
The tortoise turned quite professionally and rolled to a halt by a cactus, which it proceeded to eat, daintily, until there was a hiss and it sagged sideways.
'Oh,' said a voice from the air. `Bad luck. Tyre bladder punctured. It's the everlasting problem of the strength of the integument versus the usage rate of the mucus.'
A skinny, rather preoccupied man, dressed in a grubby toga, appeared between the two of them. Beetles orbited him like wonderful little asteroids.
`Deposition of metal may be our friend here,' he said, and turning to Ponder as if to another old friend he went on: `What do you think?'
`Ah, um, er ... do you really need all that shell?' said Ponder, hurriedly. Beetles, bright as tiny galaxies, landed on his robe.
`I know what you mean,' said the old man. `Too heavy, perhaps? Oh ... you seem familiar, young man. Have we met before?
'Ponder Stibbons, Sir. I was here a few years ago. With some wizards,' said Ponder, with care. He'd quite admired the God of Evolution, until he'd found that the god considered the cockroach to be the peak of the evolutionary pyramid.
`Ah, yes. You had to leave in such a hurry, I recall,' said the god,
sadly. 'it was-'
`You! ... you appeared in my room!' said Darwin, who'd been star
ing at the god with his mouth open. `There were beetles everywhere!'
He stopped, his mouth opening and shutting for a while. `But you
certainly are not ... I thought you-'
Ponder was ready for this.
`You know about Olympus, sir?' he said quickly. `What? This is Greece?' said Darwin.
`No, sir, but we've got lots of gods here. This, er, gentleman isn't, as you might put it, the god. He's just a god.'
`Is there a problem?' said the God of Evolution, giving them a worried smile.
`A god?' Darwin demanded.
`One of the nice ones,' said Ponder quickly.
`I like to think so,' said the god, beaming happily. `Look, I need to check on how the whales are doing. Why don't you come up the mountain for tea? I love to have visitors.'
He vanished.
`But the Greek gods were myths!' Darwin burst out, staring at the
suddenly empty space.
`I wouldn't know about that, sir,' said Ponder. `Ours aren't. On this
world, gods are extremely real.'
`He came through the wall!' said Darwin, pointing angrily at the
empty air. `He told me that he was immanent in all things!'
`He tinkers a lot, certainly,' said Ponder. `But only here.' `Tinkers!'
`Shall we take a little walk up Mount Impossible?' said Ponder.
Most of Mount Impossible was hollow. You need a lot of space when you are trying to devise a dirigible whale. `It really should work,' said the God of Evolution, over tea. `Without
that heavy blubber and with an inflatable skeleton of which, I must say I am rather proud, it should do well on the routes of migratory birds. Larger maw, of course. Note the cloud-like camouflage, obviously required. Lifting is produced via bacteria in the gut which produce elevating gases. The dorsal sail and the flattened tail give a reasonable degree of steerability. All in all, a good piece of work. My main problem is devising a predator. The sea-air ballistic shark has proved quite unsatisfactory. I don't know if you might have any suggestions, Mr Darwin?'
Ponder looked at Darwin. The poor man, his face grey, was staring up at the two whales who were cruising gently near the roof of the cave.
`I beg your pardon?' he said.
`The god would like to know what could attack this,' Ponder prompted.
`Yes, the grey people said you were very interested in evolution,' said the god.
`The grey people?' said Ponder.
`Oh yes, you know. You see them flying around sometimes. They said someone really wanted to listen to my views. I was so pleased. Lots of people just laugh.'
Darwin looked around the celestial workshop and said: `I cannot see anything to laugh at in an elephant with sails, sir!'
`Exactly! It was the big ears that gave me the clue there,' said the god cheerfully. `Making them bigger was simplicity itself. It can do twenty-five miles an hour across the open veldt in a good wind!'
`Until a wheel bursts,' said Darwin, flatly.
`I'm sure once they get the idea it will all work,' said the god. `You don't think it might be better to let things evolve by themselves?' said Darwin.
`My dear sir, it's so dull,' said the god. `Four legs, two eyes one mouth ... so few are prepared to experiment.'
Once again Darwin looked around the glowing interior of Mount
Impossible. Ponder watched him take in the details: the cage of webwinged octo-monkeys that in theory could skim across the canopy for hundreds of yards, the Phaseolus coccineus giganticus that actually bred true, if there was any possible use for a beanstalk that could grow half a mile high ... and everywhere the animals, often in stages of assembly or disassembly but all quite contentedly alive in a little mist of holiness.
`Mr, er, Stibbons, I should like to go ... home now, please,' said Darwin, who had gone pale. `This has all been most ... instructive, but I should like to go home.'
`Oh dear, people are always rushing off,' said the god, sadly. `But still, I hope I have been of help, Mr Darwin?'
`Indeed, I believe you have,' said Darwin, grimly.
The god accompanied them to the mouth of the cave, beetles streaming behind him in a cloud.
`Do call again,' he said, as they wandered off down the track. `I do like to-'
He was interrupted by a noise like all the party balloons in the world being let down at once. It was long and drawn out and full of melancholy.
`Oh no,' said the God of Evolution, hurrying back inside, `not the whales!'
Darwin was silent as they walked to the beach. He was even more silent as they passed the wheeled tortoise, which was limping in circles. The silence was deafening when Ponder summoned Hex. When they appeared in the Great Hall his silence, apart from a brief scream during the actual travelling, was a huge infectious silence that was contagious.
The assembled wizards shuffled their feet. Dark rage radiated off their visitor.
`How did it go, Stibbons?' whispered Ridcully.
`Was he? Ah, good-'
`I wish, very clearly, to awaken from this nightmare,' said Darwin, abruptly.
The wizards stared at the man, who was quivering with rage. `Very well, sir,' Ridcully said quietly. `We can help you wake up. Excuse us a moment.'
He waved a hand; once again the blue shimmer surrounded their visitor. `Gentlemen, if you please?'
He beckoned to the other senior wizards, who clustered around him.
`We can put him back without him having any memory of anything that happened here, right?' he said. `Mr Stibbons?'
`Yes, Sir. Hex could do it. But as I said, sir, it wouldn't be very ethical to mess around with his mind.'
`Well, I wouldn't like anyone to think we're unethical,' said Ridcully firmly. He glared around. `Anyone object? Good. You see, I've been taking to Hex. I'd like to give him something to remember. We owe him that, at least.'
`Really, sir?' said Ponder. `Won't it make things worse?'
`I'd like him to know why we did all this, even if it's only for a moment!'
`Are you sure that's a good idea, Mustrum?' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
The Archchancellor hesitated. `No,' he said. `But it's mine. And we're going to do it.'
TWENTY-FOUR
A LACK OF SERGEANTS
WHAT WAS IT ABOUT VICTORIAN ENGLAND, and what led
up to it, that made it so progressive, inventive and innovative? Why was it so different from Russia, China, and all the other nations that seem to have
stagnated during the nineteenth century - accumulating wealth, but lacking a middle class full of engineers, sea captains, clerics, and scientists? We would not expect there to be one simple answer, one trick that Victorian England discovered but other nations did not. That would satisfy the innate human wish for a single thin causal chain, but as we've seen, history doesn't work like that.
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