I owe perhaps more to one philosopher than any other: René Descartes. When I read his first two meditations on philosophy, I was an 18 year old freshly committed to getting his life on track after all of his antics from the high school years prior. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life, and I’ve got to say, Descartes made that question a lot harder. He made any question about life more difficult to answer, in fact, since many of my answers would crumble under the lightness of uncertainty. This problem of scepticism inspired me to study philosophy, and so I did. That said, Descartes was not and is not my favourite philosopher. Even as it pertains to these questions about scepticism, I eventually became more captivated by Blaise Pascal, a contemporary of his, who considered some of Descartes ideas in his Pensées, which is essentially a collection of philosophical fragments that make for some surprisingly deep reading.

In these fragments, Pascal speaks of an open war between sceptics and dogmatists, a war in which all must choose a side because he who remains neutral is above all a sceptic. I appreciated the colourful language he used to describe the implications of my earliest philosophical fascination, but there is yet another notion of his that has gained more popular traction in the philosophical and theological communities: that which is commonly known as Pascal’s wager. It goes like this: you have more to gain by “betting” on the existence of God than lacking a belief in him. This is because, if God doesn’t exist, you will neither suffer nor gain anything after your death, whereas you might if he does. Thus, you ought to believe in God since it makes more sense for you to gamble on his existence than his nonexistence.

Let’s make one thing clear from the start: this is a shoddy proof for God, but to be fair, it doesn’t conclude that God exists per se. Rather, it suggests that you ought to believe he does. It’s actually more about the consequences of your religious convictions than anything else. Nevertheless, there is something insightful about Pascal’s approach to life. Each of us must decide what values we adhere to, for good or ill, and we have but a short time to live them out. If you live to the average life expectancy of about 80, that’s 80 years for you to live the life you think you should live, be it as a matter of conscience or passion (though hopefully you’ll take both into account). I’m also assuming you have a lot of dreams and ambitions, so that is a short time to carry those out!

This presents us with an interesting problem that oddly enough finds a great description in a crash course on economics: there is an opportunity cost to the way you wish to live your life. Fancy a trip to Mexico? That’s going to cost you, and making that money will take you time. That’s time that could have been spent working towards or enjoying other things. Fancy a PhD? That’s five years and countless hours studying that could have been used for something else. Time is money, and you wouldn’t fancy it if you spent your money on a bunch of bullshit that wasn’t worthwhile, would you?

Thus, for each decision in your life, for every value you try to uphold, you are a gambling man. Perhaps you’re an informed gambler, or you count cards, or whatever, but you gamble nonetheless. You gamble than one direction in life will be better than another one. That’s not to say if the gamble doesn’t pay off that it wasn’t worth it. Unlike in real gambling, poor experiences can have an upside. You can learn from them, be it about the world or about yourself. Still, regardless of whatever upside there is, there’s an existential incentive to choose wisely and, perhaps more importantly, to choose at all. Pascal would say that we must all choose our dogmas, and that we should: a life of poor decisions is certainly better than a life not lived at all.

To a frog that’s never left his pond the ocean seems like a gamble. Look what he’s giving up: security, mastery of his world, recognition! The ocean frog just shakes his head. “I can’t really explain what it’s like where I live, but someday I’ll take you there.”

On Gambling in The Essential Rumi