@misc{HafnerZimmermannRostetal.2014,
  author    = {Hafner, Johann Evangelist and Zimmermann, Matthias and Rost, Sophia and S{\"u}tterlin, Sabine and Kampe, Heike and Horn-Conrad, Antje and J{\"a}ger, Sophie and Eckardt, Barbara and Mangelsdorf, Birgit},
  title     = {Portal Wissen = Believe},
  number    = {01/2014},
  organization    = {University of Potsdam, Press and Public Relations Department},
  issn      = {2198-9974},
  doi       = {10.25932/publishup-44146},
  url       = {http://nbn-resolving.de/urn:nbn:de:kobv:517-opus4-441461},
  pages     = {55},
  year      = {2014},
  abstract  = {People want to know what is real. Children enjoy listening to a story but when my children were about four years old they started asking whether the story really happened or was just invented. Likewise, only on a higher level, our academic curiosity is fuelled by our interest in knowing what is real. When we analyze poetic texts or dreams we are trying to distinguish between the facts (e.g. neurological ones or linguistic structures) and merely assumed influences. Ideally we can present results that were logically understood by others and that we can repeat empirically. But in most cases this is not possible. We cannot read every book and cannot look through every microscope, not even within our own discipline. In the world we live in we depend on trusting the information of others, like how to get to the train station or what the weather is like in Ulaanbataar. This is why we are used to believing others, our friends or the news anchors. This is not a childish behavior but a necessity. Of course, it is risky because they could all be lying to us, like in a Truman Show situation. The only time we are able to know that we are in reality is when we transcend our selfconsciousness and when we accept two propositions: first, that we are not only objects but also subjects in the consciousness of others and second that our dialogic relations are again observed by a third party that is not part of this intersubjective world. For religious people this is "belief" - belief as the assumption that all human relations only become real, serious and beyond any doubt if they know they are under the eyes of God. Only before Him something is in itself and not only "for me" or "among us". That is why biblical language distinguishes between three forms of belief: the relationship with the world of things ("to believe that"), the relationship to the world of subjects ("to believe somebody") and the assumption of a subjective supernatural reality ("to believe in" or "faith"). From an academic point of view belief is a holistic hypothesis. Belief is not the opposite of knowledge but it is the attempt to save reality from doubt by comprehending the fragile empirical world as an expression of a stable transcendent world. When I talk to students they often ask not only about what I know but what I believe. As a professor for Religious Studies and a believing Catholic I am caught in the middle. On the one hand, it is my duty as a professor to doubt everything, i.e. to attribute each religious text to its historical context and sociological functions. On the other hand, I, as a Christian, consider certain religious documents, in my case the Bible, an interpretable but nevertheless irreversible, revealed text about the origin of reality. On weekdays the New Testament is a collection of ancient writings among many others, on Sundays it is the revelation. You can make a clear distinction between these two perspectives but it is difficult to decide whether doubt or belief is more real. This issue of "Portal Wissen" explores this dual relationship of belief. What is the attitude of science towards belief - is it a religious one? Where does science bring things to light that we can hardly believe or that make us believe (again)? What happens if research clears up erroneous assumptions or myths? Is science able to investigate things that are convincing but inexplicable? How can it maintain its credibility and develop even so? These questions appear again and again in the contributions of this "Portal Wissen". They form a manifold, exciting and surprising picture of the research projects and academics at the University of Potsdam. Believe me, it will be an enjoyable read. Prof. Johann Hafner Professor of Religious Studies with Focus on Christianity Dean of the Faculty of Arts},
  language  = {en}
}
@misc{WilkensSuetterlinKampeetal.2014,
  author    = {Wilkens, Martin and S{\"u}tterlin, Sabine and Kampe, Heike and Eckardt, Barbara and J{\"a}ger, Sophie and Zimmermann, Matthias},
  title     = {Portal Wissen = Time},
  number    = {02/2014},
  organization    = {University of Potsdam, Press and Public Relations Department},
  issn      = {2198-9974},
  doi       = {10.25932/publishup-44149},
  url       = {http://nbn-resolving.de/urn:nbn:de:kobv:517-opus4-441497},
  pages     = {55},
  year      = {2014},
  abstract  = {"What then is time?", Augustine of Hippo sighs melancholically in Book XI of "Confessions" and continues, "If no one asks me, I know; if I want to explain it to a questioner, I don't know." Even today, 1584 years after Augustine, time still appears mysterious. Treatises about the essence of time fill whole libraries - and this magazine. However, questions of essence are alien to modern sciences. Time is - at least in physics - unproblematic: "Time is defined so that motion looks simple", briefly and prosaically phrased, waves goodbye to Augustine's riddle and to the Newtonian concept of absolute time, whose mathematical flow can only be approximately recorded with earthly instruments anyway. In our everyday language and even in science we still speak of the flow of time but time has not been a natural condition for quite a while now. It is rather a conventional order parameter for change and movement. Processes are arranged by using a class of processes as a counting system in order to compare other processes and to organize them with the help of the temporary categories "before", "during", and "after". During Galileo's time one's own pulse was seen as the time standard for the flight of cannon balls. More sophisticated examination methods later made this seem too impractical. The distance-time diagrams of free-flying cannon balls turned out to be rather imprecise, difficult to replicate, and in no way "simple". Nowadays, we use cesium atoms. A process is said to take one second when a caesium-133 atom completes 9,192,631,770 periods of the radiation corresponding to the transition between two hyperfine levels of the ground state. A meter is the length of the path travelled by light in a vacuum in exactly 1/299,792,458 of a second. Fortunately, these data are hard-coded in the Global Positioning System GPS so users do not have to reenter them each time they want to know where they are. In the future, however, they might have to download an app because the time standard has been replaced by sophisticated transitions to ytterbium. The conventional character of the time concept should not tempt us to believe that everything is somehow relative and, as a result, arbitrary. The relation of one's own pulse to an atomic clock is absolute and as real as the relation of an hourglass to the path of the sun. The exact sciences are relational sciences. They are not about the thing-initself as Newton and Kant dreamt, but rather about relations as Leibniz and, later, Mach pointed out. It is not surprising that the physical time standard turned out to be rather impractical for other scientists. The psychology of time perception tells us - and you will all agree - that the perceived age is quite different from the physical age. The older we get the shorter the years seem. If we simply assume that perceived duration is inversely related to physical age and that a 20-year old also perceives a physical year as a psychological one, we come to the surprising discovery that at 90 years we are 90 years old. With an assumed life expectancy of 90 years, 67\% (or 82\%) of your felt lifetime is behind you at the age of 20 (or 40) physical years. Before we start to wallow in melancholy in the face of the "relativity of time", let me again quote Augustine. "But at any rate this much I dare affirm I know: that if nothing passed there would be no past time; if nothing were approaching, there would be no future time; if nothing were, there would be no present time." Well, - or as Bob Dylan sings "The times they are a-changin". I wish you an exciting time reading this issue. Prof. Martin Wilkens Professor of Quantum Optics},
  language  = {en}
}