Belief and Evidence

It appears that when we do something for the very-first-time, there can be no empirical evidence to support our individual ability to do such a thing successfully, regardless of what it may be. Empirical evidence, of course, being evidence which is derived solely from experience. There may indeed be evidence which suggests that someone else can or has done something similar or exact, but there is no empirical reason to conclude that “someone else has done it, therefore so can I.” Thus, we cannot have any personal experiential grounds to support our ability to do something if we are attempting to do it for the very-first-time, nor can we appeal to the experience of others as evidence of our own abilities. In other words, when we set out to do something for the very-first-time, there is no empirical reason for us to believe that we can do such a thing. And yet somehow we still believe that we can do things that we have never done before.

As an example, consider a graduate student preparing to write her dissertation. She, at this point in her life, has had no experience writing dissertations. It may be true that she has successfully completed a thesis for her masters degree, or that she has successfully written other things. But she has never written a dissertation. She may rationalize her ability to do it, reasoning that she has successfully written many other things, and many other people on earth have successfully completed their dissertations, so why not her? But the fact remains, she has never personally written a dissertation. At this point in time, there is no personal empirical evidence to support her endeavoring to write a dissertation. But despite this, she believes that she can and in fact does write a successful dissertation.

Whenever we set out to do something, especially if we are doing it for the very-first-time, we are setting out, in large part, on a basis of faith in our own abilities. When we act, there are never any absolute guarantees that we will succeed. Yet, often without realizing it, we set out to do that which we personally have never done, on the basis of belief. In this sense, everyone who attempts to do something for the very-first-time, is attempting to do something which is “apparently impossible,” in the sense that there is no personal empirical evidence which could directly suggest that they can succeed in doing whatever it is they are attempting. It is only after a person succeeds in doing something for the very-first-time, that they may appeal to personal experience as evidence of their ability.

In the scientific world, the absence of empirical evidence is said to suggest that something does not exist or is impossible, or at the very least that there is no reason to yet believe that something exists or is possible. In the world of human actions and endeavors, it is often sheer belief which dictates that which can and cannot be accomplished by an individual. Now, my reason in writing this post has to do with the fact that many people appeal to a lack of positive empirical evidence as grounds that they cannot do something. But this is absurd. As we have seen, there cannot, even in principle, be any empirical evidence which suggests that a person can do something if they have not yet done it. If a person wishes to demonstrate that they cannot do something, they must therefore concede that they simply don't believe they can do it.

Only Different In Your Mind

The following quotation appears in the Selected Quotes section at the end of Lesson XII: Possibility and Impossibility:

"No! No different! Only different in your mind!"

-Yoda

Obviously the above quote is from Star Wars, and at risk of being overly cliché, I have included a video of it transpiring below. If nothing else, it is worth watching to simply re-emphasize the enormous affect our beliefs have on our abilities.

The Poe and the Possible

As unusual or creepy as it may sound, I have been an avid Edgar Allan Poe enthusiast since I was approximately seven or eight years old. Initially, it was the cover art (pictured) of two separate compiled works of Poe that I had found in a Scholastic catalog which had caught my eye. In addition, the concept of a “short story” appealed to me, as it was an obvious alternative to reading an entire book. A proposition which I quietly dreaded as a child. I can still recall the day the much anticipated books were delivered. To my surprise I actually enjoyed reading them. If you have read Poe, you know that he has a certain style and flair to his writing, which I immediately noticed and admired. Though, I confess, I didn't have any living clue what I was reading and thus couldn't have comprehended more than 20% or so of what was actually transpiring in each narrative. But that didn't seem to affect my enjoyment. Meanwhile my parents were under the impression that their son was some kind of child genius, reading stories filled with words and concepts that neither of them knew or understood.

Since then, I have compiled many different editions of Poe's works, including a ten volume set of his complete works, letters and notes which itself is over a hundred years old. I have also made it a habit to read Poe in the fall or autumn of the year, as many of his stories have a Gothic or “Halloween-like” feel to them. At present, fall is upon us, and naturally I have set aside some time to revisit my oldest literary acquaintance.

I recently re-read “The Murders in the Rue Morgue.” Having read the story many times, I consider it to be among Poe's best narratives—if not his very best. Some people believe Poe's stories to be the kind that only a boozy, bumbling idiot (whose so called literary genius is, at best, highly overrated) could possibly write. I emphatically disagree. Irrespective of his personal habits (which I do not condone), Poe's writing, if properly understood, can be considered no such thing. While re-reading “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” I came across the following sentence, having noticed it for the first time: “It is only left for us to prove that these apparent 'impossibilities' are, in reality, not such.” I couldn't help but notice the similarity between this particular quote and the concepts discussed in Lesson XII: Possibility and Impossibility and Lesson I: Perception and Belief.

We know that, for the most part, the things which are possible or impossible for us, are largely dependent on and determined by the things we believe. As stated in the final lesson, both the possible and the impossible are largely the creations of our own minds. We know from the first lesson that we can believe X is impossible for us to accomplish and as a result we will not spend our energies in it's pursuit. Likewise, when we believe Y is possible, we act as though it is, and therefore work to achieve it. But many times, we cannot know for certain if we can accomplish Y, until—in fact—we do. In this sense, until our objective is actually attained, we are operating on the basis of a certain amount of faith in our own abilities. There may, in fact, be no empirically verifiable reason for us to believe that we can accomplish Y. In such a situation, many may assume that we are attempting something which is apparently impossible. i.e., we are attempting something which we have no rational reason to believe we can attain. Yet oftentimes we still believe that we can accomplish Y and may in fact actually achieve it. Indeed, three such historical examples are given in the final lesson. But are not such examples evidence that, in some cases, the so called and apparently impossible—is in fact possible?

It therefore seems that many of our objectives can be understood as determining that which is truly possible for us, albeit within the shadowy realm of that which is “apparently impossible.” In other words, “it is only left for us to prove that these apparent 'impossibilities' are, in reality, not such.”

The Difficult and the Impossible

We often think that something is impossible to do when in reality it is simply difficult. Statements such as “I can't do—X” have been adopted by many, again, not because the act of “X” is impossible per se, but simply because it is or could potentially be, difficult, and has therefore been inaccurately perceived to be impossible.

When you say you can't do something, are you implying that it is literally impossible for you to do, or that you would simply rather not do it? Upon reflection, most people recognize that it isn't that they can't do something, but rather, if they did, it would (or could) prove to be difficult, and therefore they prefer to avoid doing it. The word difficult, in this case, may represent things such as fear, discomfort, lack of desire, genuine difficulty, or whatever. Naturally someone who is afraid to do something will exclaim “I can't do that!” without much thought. But as discussed in a previous post, such statements are largely inaccurate as they do not convey the whole truth of a given situation.

It is truly unfortunate that so many have come to believe they can do so little. But this has largely resulted from inaccurate perceptions, such as those described above where that which is difficult has become synonymous with that which is impossible. It seems that the use of the word impossible, or words which can be interpreted definitively as such (i.e., can't), should never be exercised with folly or negligence, but, on the contrary, with only the utmost caution and consideration in view.

Failure and the Evaluation of Self

The concept of “disassociating” oneself from one's failures is mentioned in Lesson VII: Failure and Adversity. However, it is not discussed directly and as a result many readers may have been left with questions. Hence, I will briefly discuss it in this post.

To begin with, the value of a person is not dependent on the results produced by their actions. While we often evaluate people on the basis of their actions, it does not follow that the inherent value or potential of a person, is somehow contingent upon the performance of their past actions. In other words, if someone has a track record of absolute failure, it does not follow that it is impossible for them to change and succeed.

As a society, we indirectly learn to associate ourselves with our failures. If we fail, we interpret it as a kind of value-judgment on ourselves. Poor performance bowling (say), for example, could result in our concluding that we can't bowl, and if we can string together enough such conclusions, we can eventually interpret this as a generalized value-statement about our very selves. This is incorrect. To reemphasize: the value or potential of a person cannot be dependent upon past results, because if it were, it would be impossible for any person to change. Those who are successful would be incapable of failure while those who fail would be incapable of success—an absurdity on both accounts.

To disassociate oneself from one's failures essentially means to not allow one's failures to define who-one-is. As mentioned in the lesson, there is an enormous difference between the perceptions “I failed,” and “I am a failure.” The former emphasizes an event or experience, whereas the latter emphasizes a definitive value-judgment on one's person. While the perception “I failed” reveals an action disassociated from one's self-evaluation, the perception “I am a failure” places a negative value on oneself. People fail, all the time. But to conclude that such failures are evidence that one cannot succeed in a given endeavor is illusory.

Now, one may object, saying that disassociating oneself from one's failures enables a person to avoid responsibility for their actions or failures. But this is simply not true. To disassociate oneself from one's failures does not mean to somehow deny one's role in the action which produced the failure. Nor does it encourage a person to avoid feelings of remorse or dissatisfaction with their behavior. On the contrary, disassociating oneself from one's failures requires a person to fully acknowledge their role in the failure, but simultaneously seeks to forgo requiring a person to measure their intrinsic value or potential on the basis of it. Feelings of remorse or dissatisfaction are right and proper, as they can help a person identify problems as well as help strengthen their resolve to change and improve.

What if Roger Bannister had associated his inherent value or potential with his performance prior to accomplishing the four minute mile? (See Lesson XII: Possibility and Impossibility.) There are many benefits to disassociating oneself from one's failures, but the short answer is that it enables a person to continue working toward a desired goal or dream.

Why Is There 12?

While The Catalyst of Confidence is built around ten core lessons, which culminate in an eleventh, the acute reader will notice that there is also a twelfth, and no doubt wonder why it exists, especially considering that the eleventh lesson draws upon the functional understanding of the previous ten. In a sense, the twelfth and final lesson seems to stand out from the rest of the book, like a kind of black sheep, and though it adds to the consummation found in the eleventh, it is not merely a stand alone lesson, but rather, a more complex interpretation of the first. In other words, Lesson XII: Possibility and Impossibility, is simply a further explanation of Lesson I: Perception and Belief.

Our beliefs are curious things. It seems that, regardless of what we do or for what purpose, our actions can ultimately be traced back to a belief about something, while that specific belief can often be traced to a specific perception regarding a specific experience, which can ultimately be reduced to information, and from all this our actions and potential actions spring. (It is worth noting that throughout this entire process we have the freedom to choose how we perceive the information we associate with, and as such, are not necessarily reacting blindly to our environments.)

We find in Lesson XII: Possibility and Impossibility, that those who have accomplished the so-called impossible, believed that the “impossible” was possible. We find in our own lives that our ability to accomplish the things we desire, to solve problems, build relationships, or communicate effectively, is determined by what we believe. Likewise, the impossibility or possibility of a given end is also largely determined by and dependent on what we believe. Believe you can solve a problem and you'll find a way. Believe you can't and you won't bother trying.

Wrestling The Impossible

Would you believe that someone could win the national college championship in wrestling with a record of 36 wins and zero losses? Most people will admit this is possible. But what if I told you that this potential champion has a birth defect, he only has one leg. Would that affect your response? It would for most of us, but not for an athlete named Anthony Robles.
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While a majority will concede that such accomplishments are possible in the abstract, few would say so if they themselves were afflicted with such a condition. How many would even consider getting involved in a sport (let alone the sport of wrestling) let alone competing in high school and college championships? How many would more readily use a wheelchair instead of crutches?

Anthony Robles obviously doesn’t believe that having one leg is a good excuse to not do something. What many people would believe to be impossible, Anthony believed was possible, and what few wrestlers believe they could do with two legs, Anthony believed he could do with one. The affect our beliefs have in our lives is astounding.
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Why do you believe what you believe?