Is free will an illusion?

Free will: an illusion?

Yesterday I read an article in the Scientific American that provoked a lot of thought for me. It struck at some of the questions I have been asking myself recently. The article was called Why We Have Free Will, by a Dr. Nahmias, a professor in philosophy and neuroscience at Georgia State University. His article argues for the existance of free will, and includes his refutations of a growing number of his peers' claims that “conscious decision and deliberation happen only after neural gears below the level of our conscious awareness have already determined what we will choose,” or, in other words, our brains make us do it.

Pervasive in scientific thought is the idea that we are merely biochemical puppets.

While the cited studies and scientists Nahmias refuted were clearly full of logical fallacies, the idea itself was something that lodged in my mind and stayed like a piece of grit in the eye. Is free will an illusion?

I work about 10 hours every week with an individual who has Williams syndrome, a genetic disorder with very specific physical and psychological manifestations. While we were together one day, I read a list of Williams syndrome symptoms and discovered that my client's personality and behavior matched every last one of those symptoms to a T. Most of the rest of his ideas and beliefs that couldn't be relegated to Williams Syndrome I could see arising from his environment and upbringing. It was rather shattering to my preconceived notions, especially in regards to agency; previously I'd always believed we were more or less a blank slate on which we had the power to write anything we wanted.

So it brought to my mind this question: if he is that determined by his nature/nurture, just how much am I determined by my own nature/nurture? How much is the whole of humanity determined by their nature/nurture?

This was a disturbing question to ponder. I realized that in a lot of ways my emotional and psychological makeup, and by extension my behaviors, habits and overall lifestyle, have been determined by outside factors. I look at my predispositions, from my homosexuality to my talents with music and writing, and realize that I can't claim much in regards to them. I never chose any of these gifts. They came without my volition. I did not choose where I was born, and to whom. (By I, I refer to my embodied self that currently knows; my pre-existant self may have had some direct choice in the matter, but I don't remember and there's no doctrinal claim to such a concept, so for all intents and purposes it does not matter.) I don't recall waking up and claiming for myself much, if any of the factors and circumstances I currently find myself in.

So...what is free will, then? Where does agency end and fate begin?

LDS.org defines agency as “the gift to choose for ourselves.[1]” I didn't even choose to gain agency, it was given to me, as was basically the rest of my life's circumstances as presently constituted. I discern a paradox. If I have been given the gift to choose for myself, then what did/do I choose? There is so much I cannot choose; there is so much that is outside my will. If my will were truly free, then that means I can claim whatever I want to claim and influence anything I desire to influence; that, logically, is the nature of “Free” will, no? (Free will, meaning do anything I want to do.)

I can't just “do” anything I want to do. I can't circumvent the law of gravity simply because I will it. I can't operate antagonistic to the law without drawing consequences; if I jump off a cliff expecting my will alone to carry me, I will die or seriously injure myself. There is so, so much in this universe that is determined and that I cannot choose.

Then doesn't that mean “free will” is an illusion?

Infinite and Eternal

I think that the answer lies in knowing somewhat the nature of God and our relationship to Him, as described by true doctrines.

Numerous scriptures (Alma 34:14, Psalms 147:5, D&C 20:17 and 28, and Moroni 8:3, for examples) describe Deity as “infinite,” or “eternal.” These words are also used to describe, as in John 6:68, Christ's reward to the faithful: “eternal” life.

Interestingly, Christ, in one of His prayers, refers to life eternal as “knowing Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent. [2]” Knowing means, to me, means to be intimately acquainted with, learned about, and in continual communication with.

In other scriptures, Christ promises His followers that if they abide in His word, “ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.[3]” 

 

There it is in scripture: by following Christ we know the infinite and eternal God. By following Christ we are set free. Knowing God is being set free.

"Free" will....

We are offspring of God

Church doctrine states that we are the literal offspring of God, made in His image, and being the offspring of God have the capacity to become like Him. Not only will following Christ lead us to God and to know Him, it will make us like Him, as stated in Romans 8:16-17: “...Heirs of God, and joint-heirs of Christ, if it so be that we suffer with Him..”

Because He is infinite, and we are His literal offspring; and because the offspring of something has the capacity to become like It. By accepting Life Eternal and knowing God, we are set free; in other words, we become “infinite and eternal.”

Because of this, in my mind, a possibly more appropriate term for “free” will, is “infinite” will, or “eternal” will.

Infinite Beings in a finite sphere: the paradox of man.

Joseph Smith taught that we are “Co-equal (co-eternal) with God himself [4].” Truly, as Stephen Chbosky's character from Perks of Being a Wallflower states in a moment where his reflections reveal it to him: “I swear we were infinite.” It is true. We were infinite. We are infinite. We always will be infinite. We existed for an eternity; the core of our beings is infinite. It existed for an eternity before this life and will exist for an eternity afterwards'

.

And if we accept Christ, then we accept Infinite and Eternal, and become as infinite as they are: completely and entirely untrammeled in our sphere of agency.

And yet, here we are, in a mortal sphere; and by mortal I mean finite. We are extremely limited in our capacities and abilities as mortal beings.

What does that limitation consist of? Oh, genetics, environmental factors, cultural blockages....our minds are bound down by sin and error, our bodies riddled by disease.

Do we currently have free will? Infinite will? Eternal will? Uh, I don't think so. Not so fast, Hubris.

So, does this mean that free will is an illusion, then?

It's not a current reality....

As the Lord states, He has sent us here in part “that I may prove them, whether they will walk in my law, or no [5].” In other words, He has put us in a life where we are weak, finite and mortal, to help us understand how to use our agency so that we may one day live the infinite life He lives, as outlined by His laws.

...but a goal we are reaching for.

This is my personal opinion, but I believe we are limited because this life is a trial run. It is a training ground. We are bound to this mortality with limited agency, to train prepare us for free agency, a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory wherein we have infinitely increased capacities and abilities in comparison with our current state.

And at the end of it all, if we successfully complete our training and learn how to choose well within the limitations we currently experience, then God will say to us, “Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord [6].”

In conclusion, in this life we do not experience free agency. There is so much that abrogates its use that to call it this is quite fallacious. Herein is the limitation of mankind in opposition to his eternal nature.

But because of our natures and our relationship with God, though we are currently limited, we will one day have the capacity to become like Him; Infinite and Eternal. Free agency is not a current gift we have; but it is something we have the capability of developing.

So, then, if it is true that there is much more in this life that is determined by outside factors than isn't....then what can we now choose? And what would the process of developing agency look like?

1: https://www.lds.org/topics/agency?lang=eng

2: John 17:3

3: John 8:32

4: https://www.lds.org/ensign/1971/05/the-king-follett-sermon?lang=eng

5: Exodus 16:4

6: Matthew 25:23

On the Eve of Mercy-- A Poem

On the Eve of Mercy

Before the coming of light

There must be a darkening.

I stand at the banks of twilight

And gaze at my new-starry reflection

While in the waters

The streaked reflection of what was

From red to gray departs, abandoning,
Leaving me stranded in stars.

The eve of mercy descends to a dark night,
Its shadows removing the wounded Earth

of its sins.

It is tonight, the coming night of mercy,

Wherein the cold shepherds shiver

Unknowing, watchful.

I sigh, repeating to myself,
I don't know, I don't know.

My visage cuts cold and straight a face

Out of twinkling reminders,

And especially, that...new star.

I a small shepherd boy, I say to reflected

Stars. What do I know? The cold

Shivers down my spine.

Then with a flash the light

As bright as nova

And the sound of a thousand voices

Of praise, explode my reflection

Into a thousand messy fractals of color and light.

Conversations with a hidden doubt

Conversations with a hidden doubt

With the release of a long-pent sob, I snap the door shut.

It is in the church. The meeting was a success. Outside, from the edges of the door beaming with light, comes the muffled sound of voices full of joy and laughter.

Here, in the dark, the only light is from the orange streetlamps like hellfire, beaming dimly in from curtained windows. All is dyed orange and drab and black shadow.

I kneel to pray, the chair in front of me known only by touch and by its support of my weight. I begin to cry.

How is it, being in the church of my sincere belief, the church of light and truth, that I feel so deep in shadow?

My prayers intensify. The weighted dark presses down with such force as to take the stability of my breath. I close my eyes, willing to shut out the darkness with more darkness, the darkness of my environment with the darkness of my choosing, to be blinded.

Outside, the murmurs of laughter float mocking into the room from the brilliant edges of the door, light and joy together intruding on the sacral dark.

I cannot stand it. I want to scream, but to whom? The God who rebukes for unrighteousness? Is this not unrighteousness, ungratitude, the spirit of backsliding and balking? To the ears of church members and leaders who know it not and need know it not? To the currents of unknowing time that know not and care not?

I heave myself to my feet and stumble to the door. Just outside it is light and hope, deeper burdens than anything darkness could possibly lash upon my back.

I pause, door on the handle. What's the point? I will stumble into the light carrying the darkness with me. Where would it go? It is stuck, jammed gears, clogged toilet, tidally locked planet about an M class star. Fear takes hold. What if they see it, my darkness, my doubt, of which even I have no clue of the origin or end? Worse, what if they ask? I am supposed to be an example of the believers, an active force in the work of salvation, a leader and participant in the great work of the great God. Supposed to be...supposed to be. They will see that I am not what I am supposed to be. Oh, what hell I have built up for myself! A reassuring metal plate about a shifting core of magma and feathers...it is an illusion, an assurance of solidity above supports that have melted in the heat and can no longer do the work of supporting. That damned shell. That damned concrete bubble, solidified by years of seeking approval and positive reinforcement.

I grip the handle, turning my knuckles white. I think of that White Current, the Light of Christ, ever flowing from somewhere, yearning for it to drip into the cracks and carry my pain away, yearning for the flood of proverbial neutrinos from that distant Daystar to interact, for once.

The light and joy intensify their knocking. I grit my teeth. The White Current is always there, it seems. It is a force that never leaves, always communicating the light of a love that lies beyond my comprehension despite my awareness of its presence. Oh, I wish it would step away, and I become a wound in it. To abandon to nihilism, to nothingness....what sweet relief.

But my imploring receives a gentle no. You have a work to do, it reminds me...it? He? Them? What am I speaking to? An Exalted Man? A river? A mirror?

I take a deep breath, polarize the hull plating, and step into my burdens. That offensive light enshrouds me.

It is okay, whispers the Current. I understand. I am with you. You are okay.

A lone neutrino vibrates a neuron.

Microcosm-- A Poem

Microcosm

Look at you, father.

Do you know how beautiful

And awful you are?

Do you know the

Impact your smile has?

Do you know the

Force your touch has?
Do you know how

Deafening your silence is?

Oh beautiful father, do you know

That your money is waste,

And your job is distance,

Your time is the essence

of the meaning of presence

And the heart of meaning?

Your child, she

Is an expanding universe.

She

Is a new world revolving.

A new world?

And you are her sun

The principle of her generation

The new light of heaven

in a new creation.

Father, beauty

Is your heart at one with kindness,

Beauty

Is your meaning become silence

Your love become touch

Your joy become smile

Oneness with God in spirit

And ugliness

Is your silence divided in emptiness,

Your touch of hatred and bruises,

Your smile disingenuous,

The duality of wickedness.

Jesus Asleep-- A Poem

Jesus Asleep

That Source whose Light 

is the light of creation,

Slept, a baby, on a bed of hay.

That King whose Hope 

is a stream of salvation,

Slumbered, a Man, through the rising waves.

He, who approached with perfection His purpose

of being mankind's one Light and one Hope,
Got tired, laid down, and slept.

Natural (thought I) -- a poem.

Natural (thought I)

As I walked,

My breath a frozen stream,

A plastic bag rushed

Past in the north wind.

Its limp surface rustled

In the frigid breeze as it

Hopeless surrendered

To the frigid breeze.

Natural (thought I)

In consequence of nature,
To let it pass me by.

A plastic bag rushed

Past in the north wind.

I stretched my protesting fingers,

Shivering in resistance, and

Snatched it,

Shivering in resistance, away

From the grasp of the wind.

The east wind howled in hunger.

Who are you, it growled,

To interfere with nature?

I shoved the bag into my pocket,

And walked on.

If I see the future, I change the future.

I am not talking "seeing the future" in some esoteric or mystical sense. Rid yourself of the image of a gypsy with a crystal ball. We can use our imagination, self-awareness, logic and reason to project how life will be given our selves in our circumstances

And once we know how our life will be given our circumstances, we can change our selves, or our circumstances, and thereby change that "will be" into something else.

I have always believed that humans have the capability to morph the physical space and time through which they pass. Space and time as expressions of existence are, to use the science term, fabric. They can be ripped, rewoven, twisted, rippled, stretched and draped, if the laws on which they operate can be utilized appropriately.

Human history and destiny are, to extend the fabric metaphor, tapestries, similar to the long ones that were used in medieval times to record important events (think the Bayeux Tapestry.)

God is not a God of determinism. He does not tell us what to do and then expect us to do it. He does not determine the times and season. He is the grand Fashion Designer. He shows us the principles of weaving and design, and helps us figure out how to apply those principles as we weave the fabrics of our own existance. He not only grants us power to determine whether or not we accept His guidance, He grants us power as to how. And, in one of the most peculiar aspects of the laws governing the arts, what we do and become appears fundamentally different than anything even He would create on His own; individuality is an eternal characteristic.

As we find our place in the tapestry of human existance, we will find we can choose our lives and what we'll become. The effects of those choices do not confine themselves. They ripple out through the fabric of space and time, represented physically by the affect on others through our relationship to them and how it influences the way they weave the tapestries of their own lives. The greater our effect on others, the greater our impact on the fabric of human existance. The greater our impact on the fabric of human existance, the greater role we have on the events woven into its fibers. If the tapestry of history is a manifestation of the laws governing space and time, then indeed, time itself is fundamentally changed by our choices.

Think of the experiences you have had that have wielded the most profound influence on you. Maybe reading the writings of a favorite philosopher or thinker. Maybe a profound musical experience by favorite musicians that changed your life. Maybe the ministry of an inspired religious leader, or the love and caring guidance of a parent, a spouse, or a close friend. Perhaps you were rescued from suicide by the loving words of a stranger. Perhaps a mentor lovingly and patiently taught you profound truths that became foundational to your life and actions, in spite of the fact that you did not want them at the time they chose to teach you. And imagine to yourself: what would have happened had those people not chosen to give you those experiences?

The world's greatest, for good or ill, knew that they had the power to change even time itself by the way they impacted those around them. The  events characterizing the destinies of individuals and entire societies occur dependent upon the choices they make in relation to God, to truth, and to each other. An individual and a society built upon choices of love will have events manifest in response to their chosen lives of love.

So now I ask myself, and anyone else kind enough to read my ramblings: where can I see yourself in twenty years? Will I be a person of love? How can I utilize my personality to alter space and time, aka my agency, on behalf of those in my sphere of influence?

Satan's success rests upon whether or not he can influence us to do one of two things with the powers of our agency: misuse, or not use. The only tragedy greater than a man who knows and does evil, is a man who knows and does nothing.

So i invite myself, and by extension all of you, to begin to see how your choices (or lack thereof) affect those around you. Imagine how life is within your sphere of influence. Use objectivity and reason. Once you know, tweak a circumstance, and see what changes as a result.

If I see the future, I change the future.

i embraced Death--a poem

i embraced Death

A gaunt principal has won my respect.

He lurks in the schoolroom of Life,

Over the shoulders of each test

Watching with cold misted breath

As nervous students peer fearfully

From the corners of their eyes.

I have watched him on occasion,

Calling one student or another

To his office. Some never come back.

Only once has he ever looked at me,

With a curious expression, as if of love.

We made eye contact. I blinked. He nodded.

I looked away.

But after class, I came up to him (I can't believe

My nerve) and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned and gazed down at me,

His blank white eyes and stretched visage

Sent shivers down my spine, but,

I took a deep breath,

and said,

Thank you for teaching me to live.

I now know each moment is precious, since

You will call me, as you must, as we all will be.

I will not resign my standing as a student here.

I will learn to love it here instead.

But, when you call,
I promise I will come willing, in surrender.

And his lips pursed and drew back, almost a smile,

Though he said nothing. Those blank eyes

seemed cruel. Then, of a sudden, I found myself

Tucked into a warm embrace, his firm arms

Tightening about my rib cage. I feel loved.

An awkward pause.

Then, he releases me, and without a word,

Floats down the hallway to his office.

And I think,

perhaps,

he is misunderstood

On a trampoline, feeling warm and cold: a short story.

I clamber onto the trampoline and lie down. It is early November. The sun glints warmly through a veil of cirrus.

I have on a jacket and exercise shorts. The cold breeze rubs down my legs while the sunlight warms my dark hair and clothes. I shiver.

Above me, endless the autumn sky stretches its touchless expanse. Blue, mottled with vague clouds gleaming faint gold in the fall sunlight. It invites me to gaze up into the eternities. I feel trapped, smothered beneath its chilled beauty, its vastness, its apparent emptiness.

I close my eyes. The breeze whispers to me. It is cold. The sunlight kisses my face. Shivering, I turn myself over, willing my back and calves to receive its share of warm and cold.

I press my glasses against the trampoline. My eyes focus on the ground through the rubber mesh. Beneath me, blue and faint red gravel together with sickly weeds scatter across the dirt, just a few feet from my eyes. The mess of colors and textures invites my scrutiny. The snaking stems of the dying plants capture more of the faint gold light, casting complex shadows across the chipped rocks. The amazing detail of each unique shape impresses and awes me. And I know the moment I step off the trampoline, my foot will hit solid ground that I can support myself with. I smile and feel empowered.

Heaven, or earth?

The veil of cirrus passes from over the sun. The light intensifies. The back of my legs and arms warms pleasantly. I smile again. Life is beautiful.

I hear my father approach in his 'gator. He stops nearby, unnoticing of my presence. I sit still, listening to the idling of the engine as he dismounts to collect tools.

Minutes go by.

Soon I hear the sound of feet stepping onto the floor of the gator, the settling of a body into the seat. The sound of the engine rises and falls away into the distance, then dies.

I sigh.

Will I ever be whole?

I hear the sound of the pump, the spatter of water on dirt.

I force myself off the trampoline and amble to the edge of the lawn. Close by, the sprinkler pump drains the water from the lines and the water pit. The water gleams as it stumbles across the landscape. Fluid motion has always been so beautiful, I think to myself.

I see my father at the pump, gazing at the water as it jets out of the pipe. I wander over and stand next to him. We talk.

“Did you see me out here and come out to talk?” He asks.

I tell him I was on the trampoline.

“Oh,” he says, looking sheepish. “I didn't even see you. Observant me!”

I would be angry. That dark spot within urges me to be angry. But I don't listen. I choose not to. I smile instead.

We talk for another moment. I hitch a ride back to the house on the gator. He stops in the gravel expanse by his tool shed, several feet from the house. I am barefoot.

“Whoops,” he said, “if I had seen that I would have dropped you off by the house!”

I would be angry. That dark spot within urges me to be angry. But I don't listen. I choose not to. I smile instead, for he is not my father but a mirror within which my own distorted reflection laughs back at me.

I love my father.

I step gingerly back towards the house, the gravel pricking into my feet at the behest of the 200 pounds of weight they support. It is okay. I like the pain. At least it is a pain I can stand.

As I amble back into the house, I hear the words form in my mind:

“...there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.

For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.
And He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.”

I sigh. There would be no deliverance today. Was I to take hope in that? How?

“Thy weakness shall be made strong,” threads through my mind.

I sigh once again. I gaze at my phone, noticing a text that says “I love u.”

Perhaps there will be deliverance. But not today.

In the meanwhile, I will gaze at the heavens, and I will gaze at the earth, and be grateful that I am here, now, today.

Enterprise Falling-- Batter me all you want, you won't beat me until my core misaligns.

 
(The crippled Enterprise plummets to Earth in this scene from Star Trek: Into Darkness. Are we viewing a CGI portrayal of a fictional spaceship? Or, are we viewing an allegory?)

I'll admit it, I'm a trekkie. I can still remember quite clearly the first time we ever channel-surfed into an episode. It was a shot of the bridge of the Enterprise, facing the viewscreen from the perspective of the captain's chair. The drab interior surrounded an image of a black star-studded void beaming in from the viewscreen. I must have only been 7 or 8, but I remember how it immediately caught the interest of our entire family.
    Thus began a near-lifelong obsession with the franchise, beginning with our family watching Star Trek: Voyager on a weekly basis, and when the show had ended, the reruns, until they had disappeared off cable altogether. To date I have seen all episodes of Voyager and Deep Space Nine, most of the Next Generation and Enterprise, some of the Original Series, and all but one or two of the movies. Even now I can watch clips from episodes and look up random trivia facts about the Star Trek universe until three in the morning.

(If anything validates my nerd card, it's this. I stay up until three in the morning watching...clips from Star Trek on Youtube. I don't know what's more odd, putting myself in that much danger of falling prey to the Internet's dark and tempting nether, or the fact that I find Star Trek so captivating I don't have the desire to wander into the Internet's dark and tempting nether. What can I say except Zachary Quinto.)

    In spite of all of this, I've never really been prone to identifying as a “trekkie.” I certainly don't experience the draw to geeky arguments so stereotypical of what I envision "trekkies" to be, blowing their plasma manifolds with explosive debates over its superiority to other franchises or its scientific exactness. Certainly if I judged this art by such standards, Star Trek would inevitably fail -- it is science fiction, after all, not a universe derived from the plotline of some theoretical science journal. (If so it wouldn't've made NEAR as much money, except perhaps as an insomnia cure.) It is a deeper inspiration behind Star Trek that captures me, and it is one of the messages contained in these deep philosophies that I want to explore in my blog post today, within the narrative of the most recent installment: Star Trek: Into Darkness.

Humanism at its finest

(Preach it, Picard.)

    One of Star Trek's basic inspirations is the hope derived from the principles of goodness and nobility manifest in humanity. Above all things, this is what has always drawn me to it. The optimistic, almost childlike humanist beliefs of the show's creators can be seen in the place that humanity has come to within their creation. In the Star Trek universe, humankind has risen above a dreadfully war-torn past and used technology to advance themselves into a political and economic system so advanced that it no longer uses money, with complete political and economic equality. It is a core world  and capital of an alliance of free worlds known as the United Federation of Planets, whose defensive and exploration arm Starfleet is headquartered on Earth. Its mission is one of peaceful exploration, scientific discovery, contact with other species, and diplomacy. Starfleet's strict regulations include the refusal to give technology away, not interfering with another race's natural development, and diplomacy before weaponry. As a theme running throughout the series and movies, the main characters' integrity to these humanistic ideals is routinely tested and almost universally passed.

Into Darkness
    In the second of the reboot movies, Star Trek: Into Darkness, the plot is thick with the tension between these principles and the principles of darkness that humanity is capable of...and shows how that darkness could destroy the goodness. It is a great lesson on the importance of integrity.
    One of the threads running throughout the Star Trek universe is the existance of a secret arm of Starfleet called “Section 31:” the organization is named after a section of Starfleet's original charter, permitting the bending of the rules in time of war. This rogue intelligence and paradefense agency's goals and methods run counter to Starfleet and Federation ideals. Its self-identified purpose is to protect and secure the Federation, which it does at the cost of any opposing principle or force and outside the bounds of justice. Within each Star Trek storyline where they manifest, Section 31 is shown to be capable of great atrocities, such as genocide, in order to obtain its ends.
    In terms of screenwriting, it is a brilliant method of injecting tension into the entire narrative of Federation idealism, the darkness within the light.
    And Star Trek: Into Darkness explores how that darkness, a parasitic outgrowth of hypocrisy permitted to fester at the roots in a garden of ideals, nearly manages to choke the entire ecosystem.

The Framework

 (Houston...we have a problem.)
I'm assuming at least some familiarity with this Star Trek movie on part of the reader. If not, this brief synopsis will tell enough detail for you to know what's going on:
    Kirk and Enterprise embark on a mission to capture and execute a rogue Starfleet officer who has engaged in terrorist attacks on Starfleet bases and individual officers.
    However, all is not as it seems. The officer, John Harrison, turns out to be Khan Noonien Singh, an ancient shadow of Earth's war-torn past who had been revived by Section 31 for his ruthless, cold intellect, holding his cryogenically-frozen crew hostage to force him to design warship and weapons for Section 31 in preparation for a seemingly-impending war between the Federation and their old enemy, the Klingons.
    Enterprise, against orders, decides to capture Khan instead of killing him. Section 31, represented by Admiral Marcus, knowing their cover is about to be blown, attacks Enterprise just before it reaches Earth's orbit in a huge warship named Vengeance, nearly destroying it. Through strategy and luck, Enterprise crewmembers sabotage the Vengeance before its captain can execute the final volley of shots.
    Kirk and Khan, along with other crew, manage to go to the Vengeance, where Khan overpowers Kirk and his crew, kills admiral Marcus, and takes control of the Vengeance. Again through another brilliant strategy, Spock manages to permanently disable the Vengeance before Khan can destroy them, but not before he deals damage that causes the most dramatic sequence of events in the entire movie.

The Symbols
The symbolic nature of Enterprise and its menacing alter-ego, the Vengeance, captures the entire conflict of the movie: The U.S.S. Enterprise and its crew, with its Captain Kirk, Starfleet's official flagship, representing its ideals of peaceful exploration and discovery and, more deeply, the potential of humanity. The second, the Vengeance...Admiral Marcus's warship, a monstrosity three times the size of Enterprise, heavily armed and armored, a creation of the villainous Khan, a war machine built to extend death, representing Section 31 with all its Hydra-like force and subversion. With the Federation on the verge of a potentially destructive war, the spread of Section 31's methodology and philosophy represents the coming of a crucial turning point for Starfleet and humanity: do we compromise our ideals for survival? It asks. Section 31's clear answer is yes.
    It is not by accident that the creators of the movie introduced and depicted both ships in this manner. As co-writer Damon Lindelof said in interview, “So I think, in a lot of ways, Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise is fighting for the soul of Starfleet in this movie(1)."

(I have a great idea. Let's wake up this savage, brilliant, sociopathic war criminal and have him design a ship for us! I'm sure it will help us in our mission of peaceful exploration and scientific discovery, right? Riiiiight? *nudge nudge*)
Enterprise Falling
    The scenes after Vengeance's final disabling contain the crux of the movie's powerful philosophical and moral concepts. Enterprise's power fails as a consequence of the damage it has sustained, and begins to fall from orbit. Watch these clips as Captain Kirk and chief engineer Montgomery Scott race the clock to fix the problem, culminating in one of the most touching scenes in all of Star Trek's history.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nv65AoK0zmQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yESWsgJ__dY

Batter me all you want, you won't beat me until my core misaligns.
    As I watched these gorgeously choreographed scenes once again late one night a few weeks ago, I came to the crux realization In these scenes, Enterprise is symbolic of Starfleet's in-universe idealism: Stricken, battered and nearly destroyed by its own subversion through Section 31, tumbling in the gravity of the problems it faces.
    If Enterprise and its idealism is an allegory for humanity, then the message is clear.
    I am only beaten if my core misaligns.
    Enterprise took a huge number of hits. Its hull crumpled and tore open under the pressure of volley after volley, dozens of crewmembers thrown out into the abyss, helpless in the face of Vengeance.
    But despite all the damage and destruction it endured, Enterprise stayed upright and powered. Representing the best of human engineering within that Star Trek time period, its systems and computers and engines remained operative in the face of extreme damage...until the core misaligned. With the warp core's misalignment came the complete loss of power, and the resultant plummet to Earth that was nearly its destruction.
    Can you see the great symbolic message being shared here? Just as Enterprise's destruction loomed only when its core, the source of its power, went out of alignment. Accordingly, if we have built ourselves on ideals, we will lose our power if we compromise our integrity.
    Once I have found truth, then it is my responsibility to adhere to it. Only in adherence to true principle will I be permitted to tap into my full power as an individual.
    Even if I were to have perfect adherence to principles of right living, (which I damn well don't, I might emphatically add!) the resulting power does not manifest as some kind of personal superiority over others. Life is life, and oftentimes those with the most integrity are the most challenged. No...integrity does not give me power over others.
    Integrity is not power over others; it is power over oneself. It would not matter if I was engineered at the best shipyard and crewed with the crème de la crème. My power is dependant on a core of foundational principles. if I say, and do not; if I say one truth and live another; if my integrity is in anyway compromised, and my life is a lie in the face of my knowledge of truth; then, my core is misaligned. I am dead from the beginning, walking in darkness at noonday, inevitably pulled into the gravity well of my own human weakness and the power of my will is destroyed. An aligned core grants us power to live, move and have meaningful being even in face of the most trying of circumstances.
    And because none of us are perfect in integrity, we have been given a Captain who sacrificed His life for His ideals, to give us the power to align our cores.

When we forsake integrity for power
Remember the Vengeance? It fell to Earth too, after losing its power to Enterprise's sabotage. A furious Khan turns upon his former masters in a final act of...wait for it...vengeance. Watch the tragic results of Starfleet hypocrisy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJ9VMaNRF4s

Isaiah 49:26 gives a relevant warning. “And I will feed them that oppress thee with their own flesh; and they shall be drunken with their own blood, as with sweet wine...”

Those who forsake their integrity will inevitably reap the consequences of their own duplicity.

Starfleet learned this at the cost of half of 23rd century San Francisco and, presumably, the lives of thousands of people.

I sincerely hope that we will make effort to ensure that these terrible personal consequences will only play out in the realm of fiction, and not the inner workings of our lives.

1) : StarTrek.com staff. Exclusive Interview: Damon Lindelof, part 1. Accessed 10/24/14 from http://www.startrek.com/article/exclusive-interview-damon-lindelof-part-1.