Lately I've been bound to believe life it's nothing but an experiment from higher grounds. In the economical field, I have decided to opt for non controlled experiments, which is a rare, still uncommon method to follow in social sciences and much more in science in general. The idea of a trial where any factor in sight can potentially be the sole determinant of an outcome is resisted by scholars even with their enriching souls. But I think it’s a misleading one. Actually I would dare to say it really does not matter. Thinking quite beyond the preconceptions of how science is made one could reach propositions such as that, given the complexity of reality, the joint forces in development inhibit the flow of minor, irrelevant factors. Some critics would see it as the renounce from individual’s isolation given its tremendous technical efforts, which is visible in psychology and biology, among others. It’s not difficult to reply because it’s foreseeable how phenomena look so different as itself in absence of the rest of the world. Besides, forces and variables are never coming alone so, why bother?
One could defend the idea of caeteris paribus to be a sorry excuse for the lack of mental skills: why to build such an empty argument instead of standing still and pay only a little more of attention? Brain has been proven to easily recall differences in a landscape from color, mainly, and secondarily from shape. Why hasn’t it been trained to identify currents of effects among social, economic processes? As far as I’m concerned, the complex of issues that gives rise to my humanity can’t be obliterated while I study and develop the research my professor requests. It’s the purity infectious, as paradoxical as it may sound. But as I meant above, the clue is to make the most out of the act of brain, in order to reveal hidden behavior. Worries do not affect science, whether it is because complexity has lifted a barrier for them; or because my inner existential worries, at a point of latent influence, hold an organic relationship with the subject of my investigation.
If such a thing is true, I would be even more prone to consider myself and my flux of hormone response as a part of a latter, wider experimental practice. My eye ends up the lens of a telescope that works my own behavior. To be watched means nothing. Everything is recorded, and the one recording is helplessly attached to the problems of mine he, the foreigner, beholds.
Words start falling resembling the ideas in my brain and the hues in the rest of my body. The grieves of living in a circuit of cause and effect are clear, yet unseen. Is it maybe that experimental isolation is really what is necessary to avoid pain and sorrow? Childhood spoiling looks then like the guilty case of boring, one-sided, dismissive research results. But it can be over now. Although, that would point at childhood as an urgent matter. This is how it is supposed to work. It looks, in general appearance, brilliant.
So sad it is I would only see the professor until Wednesday, where I’ll forget about most of the hard core of my wonder. Memory appears like a big thing to come. Or is it, perhaps, information…
