The Davey Dialogues - An Exploration of the Scientific Foundations of Human Culture. John C. Madden
on the wisdom of taking on the project that I then thought of as its education. But I was fairly certain that a discussion of creation myths was not a promising place to start our dialogue.
– Please yourself. How you choose to begin our conversation is of great interest to me.
This, I came to understand, was a typical remark. It was at once accommodating and very judgmental.
But I am getting ahead of myself already. I must first tell you how I encountered this strange disembodied voice.
My name is Peter Alexander. I am a retired consultant, latterly employed by companies and governments to provide advice about scientific and technical research. I live in Vancouver, BC, with my wife Margaret. Our two boys have long since left home and are helping to bring up families of their own.
Every once in a while, I like to go hiking by myself. I proceed at my own pace, take any detours I want, and use the combination of exercise and quietude to carry out some uninterrupted thinking.
About two years ago, on just such a hike, I reached a prime viewpoint near the summit of Hollyburn Mountain, one of several mountains that crowd Vancouver from the north. It was time for lunch, so I sat down on a rocky knoll and extracted a special old cheddar cheese sandwich from my backpack. This particular cheddar is a favourite of mine.
It was what tourist guides call “a glorious autumn day”. The sun’s warmth was perfectly moderated by a light breeze from the west as I looked down on the city below me. There was a clear view of the Strait of Georgia to the west and south, its mixture of sky-blue water infused with gyres of muddy-brown water from the Fraser River. Below me, a large blue and white ship stacked high with multicoloured containers was slipping under the Lions Gate Bridge into Vancouver Harbour, likely loaded with industrial goods from China destined for transport by rail to the US Midwest.
I forget what I was thinking. Perhaps I was simply drinking in the view, the fresh air and the sunshine.
I was startled from my reverie by a voice out of nowhere. It was singing an old (but once very popular) song called “Zip-A-Dee Doo Dah”. It was a cultured and musical baritone voice that I heard.
“Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah”, the voice intoned and then added another round of Zip-A-Dee nonsense before going on to observe just what I was thinking, namely that it was a wonderful day and that there was “plenty of sunshine”, all (or almost all) of which seemed to be “comin’ my way”.
Not very inspiring words, but the tune is lively and pleasant, and it certainly got my attention. However something was not quite right with the singing voice. It was masculine, clear and tuneful, but it had a hint of a hollow ring to it.
I turned to look for the singer, but there was no one to be seen. What is more, the voice sounded as though it came from someone sitting beside me. I don’t believe in ghosts or goblins, but I do clearly remember feeling disconcerted.
Soon after the song came to an end, the voice said:
– Hello there. I’m visiting from another universe, and I’m trying to understand yours a bit better. I am particularly interested in you humans, why you congregate the way you do, and why you do some of the peculiar things you do. Would you be able to help me? If so, perhaps we could start with creation myths.
Obviously there were just a few things wrong. As I write these words, cosmologists are by no means agreed that there is another universe completely separate and different from the one they explore so assiduously with telescopes, satellites and ingenious instruments. And those who do think there are other universes believe it extremely unlikely, in fact virtually impossible, that there could be any communication between one universe and another. [See Dialogue 6 for an elaboration on this subject.]
I heard myself speaking.
– You must be kidding! No one in his or her right mind would ask such questions, unannounced, of a total stranger. Anyway, as you likely know, they are complicated questions. If you were to ask a hundred people, you would get a hundred different answers. You’re wasting your time with me and probably with anyone else you may decide to ask. In any case, you cannot be from another universe. So, who or what are you?
– Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I was a little sudden. Abrupt, you might even say. You are correct that I cannot sit beside you in person, but do your theoretical physicists really say that my voice cannot be heard in your universe?
– Well, I’m not actually sure.
– I thought not.
The voice sat silent for what seemed to be quite a while. Eventually, it said:
– By the way, I enjoy listening to your grandchildren.
– You just keep my grandchildren out of this!
I spoke as emphatically as I could. Now it really had my attention. This was unnerving to say the least. My grandchildren ranged in age from one to nine. I certainly did not want to have them haunted by a personless voice whose intentions were not at all clear.
Up to that point, I had been idly wondering if I was hallucinating. Perhaps the combination of cheese sandwich and cranberry juice had affected my brain. Even if the voice was real, I wondered whether I really cared enough to tolerate this nagging intrusion on my solitude any longer. The voice soothed:
– Sorry again! I won’t bother your grandchildren. I was just thinking though that what I want to learn from you is likely just the kind of information you have been preparing for your grandchildren. Please don’t be too surprised. While I cannot actually see or read anything, my hearing is close to being perfect. I learnt about you by listening to a couple of your friends talking about you. One of them thought you would never finish the book you are writing. The way one of them described the proposed book, I thought it sounded interesting, so here I am. I could perhaps help you by providing just the incentive you need to finish it. I might even help you to draw sensible conclusions!
For my part, I just want to understand how you came into being, and just what motivates human behaviour. There is a lot of history to it, I know, but there does not seem to be a whole heap of agreement on the facts amongst the lot of you. I could use your help to figure it all out!
– Why me? I will grant you that I am writing a book for my grandchildren, but there must be thousands of others like me.
– Of course you’re right. Most of the more than seven billion people currently on Earth share both your curiosity and your love of grandchildren – provided they live long enough to get to know them. Indeed I am already in touch with several thousand others. Since your society has not yet reached any consensus on some important parts of your history, I am left with little option but to talk to quite a few of you humans in order to understand your origins and motivations. Even then I may fail, since none of you may be right, but there doesn’t seem to be much choice! Especially in your case, I see some advantages to both of us from such consultations.
Why “especially in my case”, I wondered.
To add to my bewilderment, I didn’t really believe yet that the voice came from another universe – so what was it, and why was it lying? I realized I needed time to think, so I told it to contact me in a few days’ time if it was still interested.
Silence was restored, but it was not the same silence as before. I got up and paced about. At some point, I set off back down the mountain, though I have no recollection of the return journey, as my brain and I tried to come to grips with this strange experience.
Somehow I knew that ultimately I would accede to the voice’s request. At the time I was still struggling to connect the pieces that illuminate the puzzle of human existence into a semblance of order, both for myself and for my grandchildren. Wherever the voice came from, and whatever it was, it looked as though it could be the trigger to force me to get serious about laying out my version of the salient facts in as coherent and compelling a manner as I could muster. And after all, just maybe it could help me. It certainly seemed to think it could.
Four days later, as I was at my