The Colour of Life

Not very long ago I wrote, in a ‘Blog’, that everything we sense is in our heads. Our whole world is in our heads. Our brain projects everything ‘out there’ so that it seems to be external.

Our eyes see everything in two dimensions and upside down and yet our brain converts it into three dimensions and the right way up.

Remarkable. Given very few visual clues our brains can perform a programme that is, very likely, beyond the capabilities or capacity of modern computing systems.

But there are some things our brains can’t do—unless it receives the appropriate information.

I have no colour vision. None. The world, for me, is in black and white. Well, OK, and various shades of grey, too, of course.

That means my brain receives no colour signal, my brain has never received a signal in colour so it has no knowledge of what ‘colour’ is.

My wife is fond of telling people that I don’t know that she’s black yet!

Like I should care about anyone’s shade—let alone her.

But the thing is that people ask me if I dream in colour.

Firstly, how would I know?

Secondly, if I did dream in colour where is the reference for my brain? How would my brain know which colour to paint grass, for example; that is why I said, “How would I know?”

My dreams could be of grass that is blue but, to me, that would be ‘normal’ because I have no knowledge, no experience, of what ‘green’ is or should be.

So. That got me into some deep thought that I will now share with you.

Find someone who has, to your knowledge, a red shirt that they are currently wearing.

Now ask a group of your friends what colour shirt is that person wearing. They will all, no doubt, say ‘red’.

Now you are free to ask them to consider this, “You all say that the colour you see this person wearing is ‘red’. But. What if you,” point out a member of the group, “see it as ‘blue’?”

They will scoff but ask them to be patient.

Now continue, “What if you,” point to another member of the group, “see it as green?”

They will scoff again and point out that it is, obviously, red.

Nod sagaciously at them and then say, “But what if you have been told that the colour you are seeing is called red. You,” point, “see it as blue and you,” point again, “see it as green but you have been told that the colour you see there is called ‘red’.”

Smile gently at them for they are but intellectual children, “You have been brought up to regard what you see as having ‘that name’ when, in truth, it is something different.”

Take a deep breath and continue, “Next time you see somebody wearing something that ‘clashes’ with another item of apparel think about this. They may see colours differently to you so that, to them, it looks fine. They may think that the clothes you are wearing look horrific.”

It is extremely difficult to disprove this. Fortunately, everything I wear matches since grey goes well with grey.

This could be expanded into other areas. Things we are brought up with, things we are told as children that are verisimilitudes may not be quite as they were painted. Our youthful hypotheses planted in our minds will stick with us. They are difficult to move or modify.

It is said that once a person reaches the age of seven you are looking at their character for the rest of their lives. That may well be true. How many bullies did you know at school who are still bullying or wife beating now?

There have been no end of studies that attempt to rationalise people’s behaviour and how it is affected by external sources. Often we are told that so-and-so comes from a broken home, this is what has made them what they are.

I’m not sure.

Lots of ne’er-do-wells come from homes that are not only not broken but are, relatively or completely, prosperous.

Spoilt children are as equally affected as deprived children.

But we get an idea. We feel that blaming the social background of a person is sufficient grounds to release them from their responsibilities. Perhaps it makes us feel better that we have been charitable enough to ‘see’ the defect in their upbringing even if it has no bearing on their character at all.

What if they now progress to greater misdeeds? How far does our tolerance spread? For how long can we pat someone on the head and say, “It’s all right. We understand?”

These are thoughts and rationales that are placed in our heads at an early age. Both ‘ours’ and ‘theirs’, ‘good’ and ‘bad’.

How do we determine if their ‘red’ is the same as our ‘blue’ and those people’s ‘green’?

Do we want to see everything the same as everyone else? Do we really want a uniform society where everyone marches to the same beat?

That would sound the death knell of creativity, of free thought, of art. In any colour.