The Certainty of Randomness
[Research, Longform Essay, 2023]
Writing and Photo by Loie Greenwood
My childhood dwelled within a melting pot of religious and spiritual beliefs. I realize that such an environment could give rise to children who lead with anger, confusion or denial. But, for me, this atmosphere challenged me to form opinions of my own at a young age. It gave me permission to be inquisitive about and accepting toward the many estimates of humanity. Skepticism birthed my curiosity.
My grandparents, with whom I lived for a considerable amount of my childhood, stood in opposite corners of the celestial ring. The beaming, consistent devotion that congested the home was demonstrated by my grandmother, a woman of magnificent vigor. She was the proctor of disagreements, unfailingly passionate and convinced. I loved to listen to her tell stories about the existing impact of a decade-old altercation. Not an effect for which she couldn’t find a cause - snuggled in between unabridged bible verses. A fantastic storyteller.
My grandfather, on the other hand, believed in the power of energy. His was intoxicating. Calm, cool, collected and sure of the task at hand - to wake up tomorrow. Such clarity in his path forward constituted his religious practices. To him, strength was the output of a devoted life. A welder by trade, he spent his entire post-military life working at the local appliance factory - thankful for a job, for a paycheck, for the ability to feed his family and keep a roof over our heads. His belief system was founded upon the idea that strength in the face of reality breeds prosperity, and so he denied the lingering past in pursuit of a stronger tomorrow.
Though their belief systems were stylistically different - they were a team - imbuing me with curiosity about the glue that held them together.
As I got older I began to feel, with them, the weight of decision making - pivotal moments in our atmosphere became visceral to me. No matter the approach my grandmother or grandfather took to solving these situations, it always paled in comparison to the timing of the house phone ringing - or whether a fallen coin landed face-up or face-down - or most importantly, if it was raining outside. Daily occurrences became signs from the universe when we were in situations with unclear paths forward. I realized the glue was their simple, shared belief in some sort of higher power, delivering them comforting signs from above.
Perhaps my specific cocktail of stimuli was no more unique than the neighbor’s, but all families are, to some degree, inspiration for the wonders we chase as adults. My family, albeit unknowingly, initiated my journey to understanding the human tendency to interpret events as meaningful messages from the cosmos, from both a psychological and philosophical perspective: what separates a sign from pure coincidence? What role has the belief in signs served in history? What do signs do for us, and how can it soften aspects of our current, bisected society?
In his classic experiments, such as the Wason selection task, American cognitive psychologist Peter Wason demonstrated that individuals tend to actively search for data that supports their preconceptions and use it to confirm their views, even it means overlooking relevant and contradictory information. He ultimately demonstrated that humans have a strong tendency to seek, interpret, and favor information that confirms their preexisting beliefs while ignoring or undervaluing evidence that contradicts them - which he later coined ‘confirmation bias’. If you’re looking for a sign, you’ll find one - he might have said.
The need for trust in a higher power is one with which many people have a complicated relationship, perhaps because it’s often described as a complete surrender of one’s self-rule. I am not suggesting that, in trusting in a higher power, we relinquish all free will, but I do believe that trust in something larger than ourselves, when tempered with the right degree of openness, can not only lessen the weight of our burdens, but also bring a great deal of comfort, both individually and collectively.
For me, confirmation bias is a particularly useful concept in delineating pure coincidence from a sign, as it directly relates to our level of trust in something larger than ourselves. If the trust exists, receiving a text from your ex-partner just before you download a dating app might confirm your preexisting belief in the idea that you have support from a higher power - someone or something shepherding you through the storm - turning the mundane into energizing, hope-filled moments. Without that trust, you may have no expectation of timely communication from the cosmos, leaving the curiously-timed note from your ex to be just that - a coincidence.
Popularly we classify the timing of seemingly unrelated events as signs. This is not a new practice. Throughout history, there have been individuals who claimed to receive visions, messages, or revelations from a higher power, often serving as messengers to guide their communities. In ancient civilizations like Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece, and Rome, people believed in gods and goddesses who communicated with humans through oracles, omens, and prophetic dreams. Priests and priestesses served as intermediaries, interpreting these messages from the divine. Still today, Indigenous cultures worldwide have their own spiritual beliefs that involve communication with spirits, ancestors, and nature deities through signs and symbols.
Life in those ancient times was fraught with various hazards, such as natural disasters, disease, predators , and conflicts with neighboring groups. In such a perilous world, people sought ways to make sense of the world around them and find solace in the face of potential dangers. I think this truth is relevant to our understanding of signs as an important part of our collective nature. Our ancestors faced unpredictability with the reliance on signs from a higher power as their main sense of comfort. It seems natural, to me, that we now turn to signs as a guiding light through our unique troubles.
The fear of death was certainly not the sole reason for the belief in divine communication, rather part of a broader spiritual and cultural context in ancient civilizations. It shaped beliefs, values and behaviors of these societies, offering a way to navigate their world and make sense of their existence. Consequently, multiple systems of belief were formed. I think understanding this divergence in thought is critical in showing empathy to both ourselves and those around us. Putting aside the religious baggage that we collectively carry, a sense of appreciation for how we each uniquely interpret an event, seems to be, always, a good start to finding common ground. Surely we can all identify with that frustrating sensation of feeling entirely misunderstood - that gut punch of a realization that you aren’t as connected to someone as you thought - only to later realize you simply approached the situation differently than each other, with no hard feelings intended.
One could say that this concept of signs from a higher power is symbolic of divisive topics in our society today, such as science versus religion, liberal versus conservative, and analogue versus technological. Both sides of each debate provide a sense of comfort to its believers, fueling confirmation bias and furthering the gap between them. I’m asserting that despite our differences, like my grandparents, there exists a glue to mend our state of being - our collective desire for comfort in times of need.
Historically, these messages have represented feelings of hope and persistence, bringing large groups of people together in a way of blind-trust. Today, I think the belief in these messages have evolved to demonstrate an intimate self-trust - a random event given the power to instill certainty in our own decisions. Proven to be the glue that mends inter and intrapersonal distance, the comfort we collectively find in signs from a higher power could be a stepping-stone for communal trust.