Good news, bad news

I wrote the following in a letter to my father in 1996. I count it as the  prescience of common sense.

         ******

         I believe that you need to contemplate two dates in history if you are to understand current events in America. The dates are 1989 and 1973; respectively, the good news and the bad news.

         The good news is: in 1989 the Soviet Union collapsed, and the Cold War has been called off. We are no longer on the very edge of nuclear holocaust; we've backed off a bit. Maybe we've going to live after all!

         The bad news is: since 1973 the average American's real wages have been in a gradual but steady decline.

         Both of these events can be traced to one cause; the triumph of global capitalism. Capitalism, hence the Soviet State had to fall; global, hence the American middle class had to shrink.

         In a sense I regard these two dates as linked in a kind of trade-off. Consider the situation before 1973; we, as Americans, had economic security along with nuclear anxiety. The contract seemed to be: eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we fry. (Truly a Faustian bargain, if ever there was one!) Now, in the '90's, we find all guarantees gone; both our guaranteed lives, and our guaranteed deaths. It appears that Faust can reject his pact, if he can stand the consequences.

         So now the bargain seems to be; a 1989 for a 1973. The trouble is that this violates a prime rule of Machiaviellian politics. Machiavielli advised the prince to let the bad news out all at once, and the good news out gradually; thus the people will remember mostly the good, the bad being too great to encompass. This sound advice has been defied by our plutocratic masters; they have let the good news out in one huge disorienting burst (1989) and the bad news out with grinding slowness (1973-?). I therefore (regretfully) predict political instability in the 21st century.

         Plato, at the end of his Republic, described how his ideal Utopia degenerated. At one step a generation of "timocrats"  (honor-bound men) gave way to "oligarchs" (money-driven men). That describes the present scene well, I think.

         My own prediction is that the 21st Century will be the Century of the Global Market, just as the 20th has been the Century of the National State. In the end the Market shall disgrace itself as thoroughly as both Church and State have. None of those three is, by itself, capable of creating a society fit for human habitation.

Milo’s Trick

Milo’s Trick

... “With your permission,” said Tock, changing the subject, “we’d like to rescue Rhyme and Reason.”

“Has Azaz agreed to it?” the Mathemagician inquired.

“Yes, sir,” the dog assured him.

“THEN I DON’T,” he thundered again, “for since they’ve been banished, we’ve never agreed on anything - and we never will.” He emphasized his last remark with a dark and ominous look.

“Never?” asked Milo, with the slighest touch of disbelief in his voice.

“NEVER!” he repeated. “And if you can prove otherwise, you have my permission to go.”

“Well,” said Milo, who had thought about this problem very carefully ever since leaving Dictionopolis.

“Then with whatever Azaz agrees, you disagree.”

“Correct,” said the Mathemagician with a tolerant smile.

“And with whatever Azaz disagrees, you agree.”

“Also correct,” yawned the Mathemagician, nonchalantly cleaning his fingernail with the point of his staff.

“Then each of you agrees that he will disagree with whatever each of you agrees with,” said Milo triumphantly; “and if you both disagree with the same thing, then aren’t you really in agreement?”

“I’VE BEEN TRICKED!” cried the Mathemagician helplessly, for no matter how he figured, it still came out just that way ...

- from The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster

I have long admired the reasoning of this passage, and have sought ways to turn it into mathematics. I have found two ways to do so; once by paradox logic, and once by dilemma game theory.

By Paradox Logic

Let A = truth value of utterances made by Azaz, King of Dictionopolis, and let M = truth value of utterances made by the Mathematician, ruler of Digitopolis. In the brothers’ intractable quarrel, A and M always have opposite values:

A  =  ~ M           ;            M   =  ~ A            

This system is equivalent to a “toggle” circuit; it can be in one of two Boolean states:

A  =  true,  M  =  false          ;   A  =  false,  M  =  true 

The toggle holds one bit of memory.

But Milo pointed out the symmetry of this system; and suggested that there exists a symmetrical solution:

A  =  M  =  ~A  =  ~M

This “singular” solution is a paradox value, equal to its own negation. It is a “null value” of the toggle.

Such values exist in multiple-valued logic, such as Kleene ternary logic, Bochvar ternary logic and diamond four-valued logic. All of these logics admit paradox values; from these we can derive fixedpoints for any self-referential system of logical statements. In paradox logic, paradox doesn’t refute reasoning; it grounds reasoning. Milo’s trick reveals the paradoxical inner unity from which existence springs.

By Dilemma Game Theory

Here we let A and M argue as before; only this time we let them place a value upon the outcome of the argument. This Quarrel game is scored thus:

Win   =  I’m right, and you’re wrong.

Truce =  We’re both right.

Draw  =  We’re both wrong.

Lose  =  I’m wrong, and you’re right.

where Lose < Draw < Truce < Win.

Truce and win are the “upper” outcomes, or “prosperity”; draw and lose are the “lower” outcomes, or “poverty”. Each brother prospers if and only if he is right; and he always gains if the other brother is wrong.

One day Milo asked the brothers if they agree. Each brother can say yes or no; so there are four outcomes:

A   =   “A=M”   =   true

M   =   “A=M”   =   true

A   =   “A not=M”   =   true

M   =   “A=M”         =   false

A   =   “A=M”          =   false

M   =   “A not=M”   =   true

A   =   “A not=M”    =   false

M   =   “A not=M”   =   false

Inspection of the table shows that each brother controls the other brother’s prosperity. This yields a dilemma game:

                                            M

            (A,M) outcome                  

                                                says A=M     |  says A not = M

                   ____________|_____________|_______________|

                                           |                          |                              |

            says A=M              |          Truce       |       Lose, Win       |

    A            ____________|_____________|_______________|

                                           |                          |                              |

            says A not= M       |    Win, Lose     |         Draw            |

                   ____________|_____________|_______________|

Here, saying A=M is the “nice” move, and saying A not= M is the “mean” move. The players both prosper only if they agree to agree; but this truce is vulnerable to exploitation. One-time play favors draw (“agreeing to disagree”); but in a long tournament, truce can be attained if the players use this strategy:

Do Unto Others As They Have Done Unto You.

That is the “Silver Rule” of reciprocity. Milo’s trick guides the brothers to harmony, in the long run.

Monarch’s Lament

       Monarch’s Lament

         Natural History or Political Satire?     

Poem by Nathaniel Hellerstein:

          Last night, I dreamed that I conversed with a Monarch butterfly. How beautiful it was, and how bitter! This is what it sang:        

                    Bitter my life and bitter my death;

                    Bitter my food and bitter my flesh!

          Yet it sang so sweetly! 

          I wondered why, so I pursued it, calling out, “Beautiful bug, what ails you?”

          The Monarch replied:

                    Milkweed! Milkweed! All I can eat!

                    How I love its vile flavor!

                    How deep I drank its toxic sap!

                    Are not my wings beautiful?

                    Are they not bright and attractive?

                    But why do the birds all shy away?

                    Why do they seek plainer bugs to snap up?

                    Perhaps they do not find me to their taste?

                    My wings say poison, my wings say death;

                    Bright and vivid, my wings say do not eat.

                    Bitter my life and bitter my death;

                    Bitter my food and bitter my flesh!

          I said, “By diet, you defend yourself from diet;

          So what, O beautiful bug, is your complaint?”

          The Monarch said:

                    You think me beautiful? Birds think me hideous!

          I said, “I would catch you and stick you on a pin,

                    you’re so beautiful.”

          The Monarch replied:

                    But riddle me this, O Ape of Wisdom:

                    Are you a man dreaming of a talking butterfly,

                    or am I a butterfly dreaming of a talking man?

          And I suddenly knew that the insect was right!

          “This is a dream!” I cried, and I started to waken.

          The Monarch Butterfly fluttered up higher and higher, beyond my grasp. Rising, it sang:

                    Sweet my flesh and sweet my food

                    Sweet my death and sweet my life!

          The butterfly escaped, the dream ended, and I awoke, shouting, “It lied to me!” For I had realized too late that the bug was a counterfeit!

It wasn’t a real Monarch butterfly; it was instead the toxic Monarch’s merely foul-tasting imitator, the Viceroy!

         Questions by Sylvia Rippel:

1.   What does the poem as a whole mean?

2.   Describe the Monarch and interpret its significance.

3.   Why does the Monarch lament its condition?

4.   What ails the Monarch?

5.   Why do the birds shy away?

6.   Who is the dreamer?

7.   What is the difference between the Monarch and the Viceroy?

         Replies by Nathaniel Hellerstein:

What does the poem as a whole mean?

This poem contains many separate meanings, including:

Power corrupts;

Truth is elusive;

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder;

Life is fleet and bittersweet;

         Et cetera, ad nauseum. The poem, as a whole, means none of these things; its meaning is the elusive beauty and guile of the butterfly itself. This poem describes a fabulous monster as strange as any dragon yet as common as any insect.

         The poem’s last word reveals that everything preceding was a deception. Perhaps such a poem means nothing at all.

Describe the Monarch and interpret its significance.

The Monarch butterfly defends itself  from avian predation by a milkweed diet and bright markings. The milkweed makes the insect’s flesh toxic; its bright wings warn birds of its inedibility. This defense has a flaw; it attracts human attention and insect imitation.

In “Monarch’s Lament”, these entymological facts acquire satirical overtones. A tiny bug’s struggles are compared to the maneuvers of the rich and powerful. This poem is an insect exposé; a study of politics in miniature.

Why does the Monarch lament its condition?

The Monarch (actually, the Viceroy) seems to lament, but in fact it rejoices. It bewails its lot, but its complaints are insincere. Not even a bird-brain would swallow such a belly-acher. It cries:

                    Bitter my life and bitter my death;

                    Bitter my food and bitter my flesh!

to celebrate its triumphant release from avian oppression. The bug’s seemingly mournful dirge is really a cry of joy.

The Monarch’s lament is not a real lament; and what’s more, the Monarch itself is not a real Monarch! Thus this poem’s title misleads the reader not once, but twice.

What ails the Monarch?

The Monarch is an artist; therefore it must endure the four plagues which afflict all artists, namely;  patronage, critics, fans and rivals.

Patronage – i.e. milkweed.

The butterfly complains:

Milkweed! Milkweed! All I can eat!

This means two things; both that it can have as much milkweed as it wishes (for no other bug will touch the awful stuff), and also that this bitter fare is its obligatory diet.

The Monarch must eat; and no-one else wants what it must have, for good reason.

Critics – i.e. the birds.

The Monarch’s toxic diet and gaudy wings are messages to birds, its most rigorous critics. The birds hold the Monarch up to the highest standard of bad taste.

Fans – i.e. humans.

The hapless Monarch fends of avian attack only to discover that its defense mechanism draws unwanted attention from greedy humans. From the Monarch’s point of view, birds are at least honestly hostile; but these crazy clever bald apes will admire a bug by killing it. What a deadly dilemma!

Rivals – i.e. the Viceroy.

This one is worst of all; for we never did meet the real Monarch, only its imitator, a disgusting forger. After surviving poison, birds and humans, the bitter bug finds its minuscule thunder stolen by plagiaristic vermin.

Why do the birds shy away?

Birds see the butterfly’s wings and identify it as either Viceroy or Monarch; either foul or toxic, and in neither case worth pursuing. Birds instinctively see them as ugly; for beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Who is the dreamer?

                    But riddle me this, O Ape of Wisdom:

                    Are you a man dreaming of a talking butterfly,

                    or am I a butterfly dreaming of a talking man?

The false Monarch royally mocks primate folly; then it retells Chuang Tzu’s dream koan, “Am I a man dreaming that I’m a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming that I’m a man?”

Recall also Chuang Tzu’s fable of the Useless Tree; a “stinkwood” tree so twisted, rotten and worthless that no carpenter would even look at it – just as the Useless Tree planned. “Monarch’s Lament” combines these two Taoist fables; it’s about a Useless Butterfly – and its imitator.

Who is the dreamer? Who is the dream?

I am the dreamer. I am the dream.

But who am I?

What is the difference between the Monarch and the Viceroy?

         The Monarch bewails its bitter fate; the wails are insincere but the bitterness is genuine. Perhaps the alkaloids in its diet affect its tiny brain. In any case, it has surely earned its gaudy wings.

         The Viceroy lacks the Monarch’s bitter integrity. It is an upstart insect that pretends to be dangerous when in fact it is merely disgusting. It doesn’t need milkweed; it tastes awful all by itself. The Viceroy is a symbolic parasite. It bitterly admits the shameful truth:

                    Sweet my flesh and sweet my food

                    Sweet my death and sweet my life!

-       only at the moment of escape. Its life is a lie.

         The poem also lies; for the Viceroy’s deception fools not only the birds, but also the dreamer – and through the dreamer, the reader. “Monarch’s Lament” is a non-lament by a non-monarch; not one single word in its title is true. Beware!

         Remember; it was all just a dream. That butterfly never existed in the first place!