What Does it Mean to Believe in Science?
What
does it mean to believe in science? Why do I believe in science?
Many
promulgate science’s virtues, but such questions too often go unasked. Many
conflate believing in science with believing what it says—or claiming to. Some
confuse it with the joy of learning science. Others mistake it for the study of
the physical World. To a Complex systems theorist, video games are no less part
of Nature than the rainforest. Even most genuine believers have yet to solidify
their adherence by answering these questions.
This
post is the author’s solidification as well as an attempt to dispel common
misconceptions about the nature of science.
Another
misimpression is that belief in science is opposition to baseless opinions. You
can’t truly say you believe in something if you don’t appreciate it, and you
can’t truly appreciate it if you don’t at least on some level understand it,
including its flaws. Belief in science manifests when one acquires UNIVERSAL
SKEPTICISM and comes to appreciate how easy it is to be wrong without
mathematical and/or empirical verification. In other words, it’s not only
well-premised inferences are valid, so much as: If you, or I, don’t
subject a hypothesis to rigorous testing, you invite wrongness—and my
skepticism. Universal skepticism is skepticism that applies to all mortals
including oneself. This article is, thus, a treatise on universal
skepticism and science.
People
associate science with truth and rationality. The pinnacle of irrationality is
the idea that a mortal ever could be fully rational. Humans aren’t designed for
truth and rationality, but simulations known as beliefs and rationalization. However
much people enjoy learning, beliefs will always be more of a cognitive, social,
and emotional phenomenon than an intellectual one. History makes clear that interest
elicits opinions more than lack of information discourages them. If emotional
factors are less influential in science, it’s only because its claims are more
testable and less directly tied to the practitioners’ psychologies--not because
their psychologies are rational. Being rationalizing beings, humans don’t just
rationalize specific beliefs and decisions, but they and their community’s
rationality generally. Championing science reinforces pseudo-rationality every
bit as much as science feeds humanity’s ever-growing addiction to
technology.
The
closest a sentient can be to rational is being rational in their dealings with
their non-rationality. Even in the absence of the cognitive and
emotional biases inevitable in a product of evolution, ER has shown that an
engineered self-aware thinking apparatus still can’t escape logical, epistemic,
and self-referential bias—and, therefore, self-delusion. The most
self-understood are those that best understand their delusional nature and re-engineer
their thinking for universal skepticism.
What
about intelligence? Can’t this make a person more rational? Yes, but
intelligence always goes into rationalization first, and how much rationality
comes out depends more on other factors. The human thinking apparatus has powerful
incentives for beliefs other than correctness and lacks a true answer
verification system. It has a convincing system, the apparatus
convincing itself the answers are correct. Intelligence can be directly and
indirectly used to enhance rationality, but it more frequently rationalizes
what one wants to believe.
So
how does truth prevail despite non-rationality? It doesn’t—it more happens because
of it.
Irrationality
and Science
Bishko
once said, “It isn’t that people want to be successful and happy so much as
happier and more successful than other people.” This is known as
competitiveness. A field requires competition and cooperation in dynamic
proportion. Learning is about more than answers, but also the questions,
explanations, and data--including the counter questions, explanations, and data. Cooperation
provides the first half, competition the second. As I’ve said, it’s a
scientific and historical fact that ninety-nine percent of the true history of
science is the story of geniuses who spent their entire lives developing scientific
theories that ultimately proved to be ninety-nine percent wrong. And their
theories weren’t merely wrong in hindsight or light of future information; even
at the time, they were questionable. But because people have motives for
beliefs other than truth, the wrong theories got the right adherents, and they
provided better theories with the necessary catalysts.
Many
think scholars like learning new things and hearing new ideas. This is
true—provided it doesn’t challenge what they already believe. Anyone who’s
studied cognitive psychology knows humans are almost infinitely better designed
to confirm their beliefs than question them. Self-inconsistences threaten
cognitive, emotional, and intellectual function, and the human thinking
apparatus resists threats. This inertia is nonlinearly magnified when the
individual is placed in like-minded groups and institutions, making scientific
paradigm shifts as sociopolitical as scientific (see Structures of
Scientific Revolutions by Thomas Kuhn). But institutional inertia forces upstarts
to rigorously prove their theories. Desperately clinging to life, the dying
school digs its own grave by repeatedly failing to achieve the requisite
results. But by researching themselves out of existence, they help their
successor rise in their place.
This
process, however far from perfect, enhances science’s self-correction, or its
ability to correct itself over time. For a robust and adaptable whole, you need
fragile and expendable parts. Individuals unwittingly sacrifice themselves for
the greater good. As said in other articles, science rose to glory much more on
the backs of its members’ failures than by standing on the shoulders of giants.
Unfortunately, science education, like nearly everything else, is tremendously
survivors-biased: Winners and their theories are immortalized, and losers are
lost to history (including the winner’s wrong ideas).
A
similar process also occurs on the individual level. Only in hindsight do
analyses follow logical progressions. In real time, answers are often established
before questions and objectives. As thinking intensifies, it get’s more, not
less, circular. Logic is mostly a post hoc phenomenon. In both humans and
learning machines, thinking is iterative: A possible answer is invoked by the
subconscious or equivalent; then logical judgment is passed. If it fails muster,
it’s tossed out, and other ideas are considered. If it passes, it’s subjected
to further analysis (or reinforcement). This gives thought processes context
and allows many ideas to be considered; without it, thinking is deprived of
force and direction. This doesn’t automatically compel the thinker to “beg the
question” and make the hypothesis a premise of the subsequent thought sequence,
but thinking would be unduly hindered if confined to straighter lines. More
logically bound thinking would have benefits, especially in life where the priority
is avoiding mistakes, but it would inhibit the evolutionary mechanisms of the scientific
process, where the focus is correctness and/or its verification.
Interestingly,
many attribute the East’s lack of scientific progress in recent centuries to
more rational responses to different theories. Collectivist societies are
known for being better at understanding different views. This speaks well of
the individual, but it blunts competition. It turns out it might be better for single-minded
groups go to battle with the hope that the best will eventually prevail.
Over
decades, the self-corrective process in the classical sciences has been very successful.
Over shorter periods, however, institutional inertia can be destructive, and no
length of time can make the corrective arm infallible. Contemporary physics
deals with phenomena that are either ridiculously small, or ridiculously large
and even further away. Both require incredibly advanced mathematics to
understand, and the rise of modern physics granted the field tremendous
mathematical and conceptual licenses. In addition to affecting how well
phenomena can be studied, these factors limit a field’s accessibility, giving
rise to orthodoxies that further restrain competition and outside feedback.
Secondly,
there’s a difference between a paradigm shift and a paradigm leap. Better
theories, even if markedly different, are still often constrained by their
predecessors, and a theory is more likely to be recognized if the predecessor
provides continuity. Plasma Cosmology, an alternative theory of the cosmos that
I think warrants consideration, has almost no conceptual connection to Big Bang
Cosmology, which deals in gravity. Despite constituting over 99.9 percent of
the Universe’s conventional matter, only a minority of physicists’ study plasma
physics, and its mathematics doesn’t appeal to the distinct palates of
mathematicians.
Like
competition and cooperation, rationality and irrationality must exist in
dynamic proportion for maximal progress. Obviously, you couldn’t expect much
progress if everyone were bonkers, but too much rationality inhibits thinking
and creativity, for both the individual and group. Likewise, personal similarities
and differences must be in dynamic proportion. Too much similarity, not enough
competition; too little, not enough cooperation. Humans are ideal in this way:
They all have the same foundational attributes, but they greatly vary in how
they manifest--understanding people means understanding both. Humans have both
strengths and weaknesses, and you can’t have universal skepticism without
understanding both.
Unwrongness and Universal Skepticism
The
classical sciences, math, and engineering are close to exact sciences, very
trainable, and less burdened by the impurities of other fields. Less
testability as well as legal, marketing, monetary, bureaucratic, and university
constraints impair the correction of personal training, physical therapy,
economics, and the mental health field. Where effective treatment depends so
heavily on judgment, the latter’s methodologies and pedagogy should focus on
wisdom first and knowledge second. But university constraints and the greater
abundance, transferability, and marketability of knowledge ensure the opposite.
Society’s general pool of beliefs has laughable self-correction and far less
consistency than believed.
Humans
have always done better in matters of competence than judgment, and
self-correction is highest in the latter, lowest in former. Thus,
self-correction can be used as crude measure for the reliability of a field’s
expertise.
Universal
skepticism is made much easier when one recognizes how much more there is to
gain by suspending judgment, how much less there is to lose, and how much more
there is to be LOST if you don’t.
Correct
beliefs are far less necessary than people’s cognitive, social, and emotional
programming suggests. This includes appreciating that you can take advice or
make a decision without adopting the opinion. Jumping to conclusions is a
cognitive reflex, not merely an epistemic mistake. Far from engineered for the
philosophy of science, human cognition suppresses casual criteria to maintain
coherent perceptions, giving correctness an artificial simplicity. Society
exacerbates these misconceptions by frequently treating opinions as more
important than knowledge. Reinforcing beliefs and perceptions enhances the
clarity of thinking, but the thinking apparatus isn’t infallible. This means
belief reinforcement isn’t limited to correct beliefs, nor to beliefs
themselves: Wrong emotions, language, goals, plans, decisions, and behavior are
reinforced by beliefs that, in turn, get reinforced. This makes wrongness a
nonlinear positive feedback loop.
ER
asserts that universal skepticism must be accompanied by Unwrongness. It teaches that quality life-related thinking comes
down to understanding three things that humans are poorly cognitively socially
and emotionally programmed to appreciate: Ascertaining correct answers is
less necessary than people instinctively think; wrongness is more dangerous;
and when you do need or want to be correct, analyses that suspend judgment
result in better understandings than hasty ones even if the overall conclusions
are the same. If you suspend judgment, you can gather more supporting facts
and have a better chance of knowing how they fit together because prolonged
analyses are purer and less circular than hasty ones.
Unwrongness
and universal skepticism, in turn, must be supported by a strong learning ethic.
Learning has nothing intrinsically to do with people. People are simply a means
to an end. God and Nature don’t share their monopoly on truth with mortals. Even
if they could, truth itself is mostly a means to an end. True learning lies in
understanding, proficiency, and wisdom. These things don’t come from
credentials, conformity, elitism, idolatry, faith, arrogance, or blind
contrarianism. They come from universal skepticism. Scientism is the idolatry
of scientists, which is often mistaken for belief in science. Idolatry and
elitism are enemies of learning, which conflate people with learning. Blind
worship leads to blind faith; blind faith means belief despite incomplete
understanding. Understanding is often sacrificed for the cheap gratification of
blind faith. Open-mindedness is mutual skepticism: skepticism of oneself and
others for all the flaws you share.
But
appreciation for the dangers of wrongness requires a path, not just reading. Conscious
beliefs insufficiently supported by emotions and unconscious beliefs have
little effect on people’s perspectives and decisions, and nothing elicits
emotion more than personal failure and wrongness. Moreover, you can’t
understand something if you don’t understand its point of view, and you,
therefore, can’t truly understand the flaws of your intuition unless you
experience misusing it—and the consequences. While books can only convey so
much wisdom, much less an article, I can provide a few page outline of my own
history with wrongness.
A Personal History of Wrongness as a Path to Universal Skepticism
A
major part of wisdom is understanding the nature of knowledge. Just as
understanding rationality requires understanding irrationality, you can’t
understand knowledge without studying ignorance. In fact, when it comes to
wisdom and judgment, where the focus is avoiding mistakes, knowledge of
ignorance and irrationality are more important. Self-understanding comes more
from understanding one’s delusional nature than exploiting readily available
self-awareness. My universal skepticism is synonymous with my belief in the sentient
duality: Self-awareness and delusion are a consubstantial duality, two of
the same essence. In addition to having the right innate predilections, there
were three distinct advantages that led to my discovery.
The
first was growing up in an extremely educated community where pseudo-rationality,
pseudo-open-mindedness, and intellectual idolatry were especially high. The
greatest symptom of pseudo-rationality is the delusion that beliefs are
primarily an intellectual phenomenon rather than a cognitive, social, and
emotional one--and people have this assbackwards for that very reason. Intellect
can be used to understand the duality, and, thus, those who understand
it best tend to be among the most learned. More often, however, the bias and
hubris that come from greater intelligence outstrips the advantages of learning
(as pertains to wisdom). Many liberals confuse tolerance and intellectual apathy
with open-mindedness, just as the pseudo-skeptics confuse skepticism with
arrogance.
But
to discover the duality, I had to also appreciate my own capacity for delusion
and incorrectness.
My
second advantage (and disadvantage) was the combination of manic-depression, four
years of using prescription amphetamines as intellectual performance enhancing drugs,
genuine ambition, and little talent—but just enough to convince myself I was.
If that combination doesn’t make you delusional, nothing will. Unwilling to let
go of the possibility of intellectual and athletic achievement, delusions led
to more delusions. When the illness became mostly dormant, I was amazed by how many
vestigial delusions and other symptoms persisted for years afterwards.
The
third was not beginning learning until 23. Every time you learn one thing is
right, you learn no less than one thing is wrong; that thing is likely
something you could have got wrong yourself. Having accrued so many
misconceptions then having them suddenly exposed opened my eyes to how easily
facts can prompt false assumptions.
Historical
fallacies were particularly influential:
There’s
a great temptation to explain the history of scientific discovery, for example,
by connecting important findings leading to the ultimate discovery. But this
isn’t usually how it works. Often, scholars didn’t know of the others, may have
had very different interpretations, or prior findings simply weren’t that
influential. I came to call this the chronological fallacy.
History
loves dubbing leading discoverers “fathers”: Newton is the father of modern
physics or Newtonian mechanics, for example; Darwin and Mendal are fathers of
the “modern synthesis.” This tends to cause popular history to falsely ascribe
many discoveries to fathers—including things they have even got blatantly
wrong. Newton had serious misconceptions about energy, and though Mendal
respected Darwin, he disagreed with him about many things. This is the
father fallacy. False interpolations are common.
Historical
trends are almost never as continuous as thought; Nature, after all, tends to
be nonlinear. At point A something like racial discrimination, for example, might
be much greater than point C, but the record shows that point B could easily
have been worse than A, contrary to what would be assumed. I encountered
numerous examples of survivorship bias, which had previously masked how
dominated the history of science is by wrongness.
My
experience with physics reinforced my appreciation for my susceptibility to
false assumptions and how dangerous the acquisition of knowledge without
correction can be. I can’t even tell you how many times I read a chapter of a
physics book and thought I was fully understanding it, then got to the
exercises and didn’t even have a clue of where to start.
Writing
fiction without feedback for several years before getting critiqued by other
writers showed how easy it is to overestimate one’s ability and their
understanding of the endeavor itself. I was shocked by how many mistakes I was
making and how clueless I was about what fiction was about. It took many months
of shell-shocking critiques to break simply-explained habits, and this taught me
how much emotional support beliefs sometimes require to adequately affect one’s
actions. Even though I ultimately found that fiction wasn’t my thing, going to
critique groups was one of the best things I ever did.
Judging
talent was something I once thought most people were terrible at except, of
course, for myself and a few others. I eventually concluded that we were also
terrible, and everyone else was even worse. You can have the symptoms of a
property like a disease or talent without the property itself. For every one
guy that has talent for something above a certain threshold, there could be
twenty guys with multiple symptoms. Confusing symptoms with the property itself
is a common fallacy I call the fallacy of indications. Weeding out false
positives is tricky business. I discovered weakness neglect: Basing
assessments too much on strengths, too little on weaknesses. “Competition neglect”
is common, underestimating how many things the competition might also do well. The
Oakland A’s drafting success based solely on statistics (and ignoring scouts),
as chronicled in Moneyball by Micheal Lewis, and the research discussed
in Everything is obvious (once you know the answer) by Duncan J Watts were
also impactful. A few years ago, I wrote a post about the difficulties of
judging talent. By the time I was done, I realized that my true thesis was the
unreliability of human judgment generally, with judging talent as a pedagogical
example.
The
judgment of my own talent by myself and others was especially edifying. I was
delusional about my own abilities, and this, in turn, led to more. Some people
who thought I was talented insisted on basing their entire evaluations on what
they had personally witnessed, as if I should base my entire life on that
miniscule fraction of it. Few questions were asked, and they showed little
interest in anything I wanted to add. Even if you’ve known someone for thirty
years, you’ve probably only seen a tiny fraction of their waking hours—and possibly
never observed them doing anything especially relevant to such an evaluation. They
thought they were being skeptical by dismissing what they hadn’t witnessed.
They didn’t appreciate how much less necessary opinions are on a given issue,
nor, more importantly, how easy it is to mistake a piece of knowledge for the
whole picture. Knowing the wrong combination of important pieces of information
can be very misleading. You can spend ten years brilliantly analyzing
something, and if you make an inference without a few easily acquired pieces of
information, you’ve jumped to conclusions. Time is an overestimated heuristic
for determining the completeness of an analysis.
Some
suffer from the silly idea that just because you ask a question or allow
yourself to receive a piece of information that you either have to form a
conclusion, or respond the way the person wants. You don’t; you can simply take
the fuckin’ information. The Choice of what to say is information:
The very fact someone chose to say what they said has to mean something,
even if it’s not what they think.
In
science, erroneous theories can yield useful questions and data. Many are quick
to dismiss alchemy and its contributions, but while its influences were hardly
perfect, alchemy still served as the foundation of proto chemistry. In the case
of the individual especially, information doesn’t have to be true to be useful.
A person’s point of view largely defines who they are, making their
accompanying beliefs and attitudes relevant however misguided. Being an
intelligent skeptic requires appreciating the importance of information,
knowing how to gather and process it, along with the knowledge that you and
others are prone to misprocessing it. The latter, in turn, is part of
understanding how to gather and process information--so always default to
taking it.
True
skepticism is universal and, therefore, mutual: You shouldn’t
just be skeptical of other people because they have flaws and limitations; you
should also be skeptical of yourself because you in one way or another
have those flaws and limitations—including a limited ability to understand
things based on limited information. True open-mindedness and skepticism
are one in the same. The pseudo-skeptics are merely arrogant; the
pseudo-open-minded people are at best tolerant—worst, intellectually apathetic.
Complexity
theory and research in cognitive psychology, however, most directly influenced
the scientific basis of ER and the sentient duality. Cognitive psychology and
all the many universal human biases it’s identified show how much the need for
self-consistent and coherent perceptions affects people’s thinking. A chief
consequence is the linear illusion, the illusion that Nature changes
linearly rather than nonlinearly, blinding people to the complexities of Nature
(see ____). This Complexity is
studied by Complex systems theory (CST), and ER has used it to unify all the
systems in Nature directly relevant to life under a single set of laws,
including psychologies. Along my path, CST illustrated the vastly
underappreciated complexity of causation in Nature and the disparity between
prediction and retrodiction (ability to predict the past).
The
following is the list of the most influential books:
Moneyball
by Micheal Lewis: Illustrates
cognitive bias and poor judgment
Everything
is Obvious (once you know the answer): How Commonsense Fails Us by Duncan J Watts:
Intellectuals by Thomas Sowell: Showed (among
other things) how little people understand and appreciate data and statistics—and
how much more they appreciate their psychological needs.
Thinking
Fast and Thinking Slow by
Daniel Kahneman: Detailed experiments and real-life examples of cognitive
biases
Noise by Kahneman et all: Showed how
easily seemingly benign information can influence people
Works
of Nassem Taleb: Taught Complex systems theory and how human cognition is
poorly suited to understand it.
Ubiquity
by Marc Bucahan:
Introduced me to Complexity
As
shown, learning about the physical World had a proud place in my path toward
universal skepticism and appreciation for science but hardly dominated it. This
illustrates the universality of scientific reasoning, despite significant
differences between science and life. Science education calls for skepticism
but fails to adequately show why it’s needed. There are few books and even
fewer courses in scientific mistakes. Most of science and its popular history
are winners-biased. Learning about correctness and successful theories is not a
good way to enlighten people about their susceptibility to error. This is not
to say that such learning should be eliminated or that it can’t provide any
education in skepticism, but without knowledge of wrongness and human
fallibility, you can’t expect to cultivate true skepticism. More is needed.
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