It’s time
to make the plea again; the plea to tighten up and formalize and limit the use
of the words ‘believe’ and ‘belief’. I’ve mentioned it before and seen eyes
glaze over and roll back. It’s the same look I get when confronted with an
insurance salesman on the make.
Which leads
me to revealing why I’ve taken up the task yet again to address the problem
when discussing science with ‘believers’. That confusion – at least in part –
stems from the casual use of the words cited in inverted commas above.
Kent Hovind.
If you don’t know who Kent Hovind is, count yourself lucky. Think: ‘Ken Ham’,
the schmuck who built the Ark theme park for ‘True Believers’. That’ll bring
you into the ball park.
Mr Hovind is
a Creationist and a Bible literalist. He’s a promulgator of ‘Intelligent Design’.
(Now, there’s an oxymoron worth its salt.)
Mr Hovind
has been on a very extended quest to debate Aron Ra on the verisimilitude of
the Theory of Evolution. During one episode (on YouTube, if you must know), Kent
decided to build his straw man out of the words of non-scientists found in a
Google search. Kent chose some quotes in which the word ‘believe’ was used informally.
(e.g. ‘Science believes that the universe started from a singularity.’)
From there,
he set the straw man on fire with the errant declaration that ‘science is a
belief; science is a religion’. This is one of his primary assertions; science
is faith-based because – get this! – since the concepts of black holes, the Big
Bang, cosmogony, evolution, etc are not completely understood, then they are
accepted as articles of faith and are ‘believed’ by scientists. That is; these
theories are accepted as matters of faith and therefore are indicative of
religion. ‘Science is a religion!’, he proclaims.
Q.E.D.
Balderdash.
Science is
NOT a belief system. Science is the exact opposite of a believe system as
science is based on evidence. Are there dogmas in science? NO, there aren’t.
There are theories which are accepted. There are hypotheses and proposals
which are considered, examined and challenged.
That’s the
difference between science and religion; the theories and hypotheses of science
are meant to be challenged but the tenets of Faith are not to be challenged except under penalty of eternal damnation. Challenging articles of faith is forbidden and anathematized.
Think ‘the
Spanish Inquisition’.
Try
challenging the dogma of ‘Virgin Birth’ or the ‘Resurrection’, for example and
watch heads explode amongst the ‘Faithful’.
Contrarily,
challenge ‘The Big Bang’ and prepare to be engaged in weighty conversation. Is
that discussion passionate? Of course, it is, but the debate is not considered
blasphemous or heretical as it would be if one were to challenge virgin birth
or the resurrection of Jesus.
Why?
Science is
not faith-based. Nothing proposed by scientific method is ‘sacred’. Even the
most establish, accepted theories are subject to change as verifiable evidence
is presented supporting that change.
Consider
the Theory of Gravity. Just recently, evidence of ‘gravity waves’ were observed
and verified. The theory was amended.
Dogmas are
not amended. The amendations are branded as heresy. They are stamped out.
Speaking of
gravity; try believing you can fly, then launching yourself from the roof of a
building.
Splat!
‘I believe
I can fly’ makes for a wonderfully up-lifting song lyric but it’s shite as a rational
appreciation of gravity.
It might
seem that this discourse has strayed too far afield but it has not. The point
made at the beginning, citing the lax, casual use of the terms ‘believe’ and
belief’ is a sound one. When, in discussion of science versus religion, that wayward
use of those terms become the sticking point, as Mr Hovid demonstrated when he
cited the use of those terms to set up his straw-man argument equating science
with religion.
That misuse,
that acyrologia, is a stumbling
block to sensible discussions of every-day matters. In a conversation with a
friend about this rather pedantic misuse of the terms of faith, he asserted
that in order to sit on a chair one must have faith that the chair would
support one’s weight. The simple, ordinary act of taking a seat was an act of
faith, therefore.
The counter-argument was that while one may assume (or
hypothesize) that a chair could support one’s weight, that assumption could be
nullified by evidence that the chair was too feeble or ill-made. If, as one
sat, the chair wobbled or creaked or gave some other sign that it was
structurally unsound, then one would take another chair.
Hypothesis: the chair can hold my weight.
Evidence: the chair is unsound structurally. It wobbles.
Revised hypothesis: the chair can’t hold my weight.
Conclusion: choose a different chair.
An even more banal example; ’I believe it’s going to rain’,
may sound sophisticated in its phasing but it is erroneous at its base. It’s
not expressing a belief. One senses the moisture in the air, sees low, heavy
clouds, feels the cooling breeze and concludes from that evidence that there
will be precipitation.
Better to say 'I think'…
Or 'I surmise'...
Or 'I contend'…
Deduce. Guess. Conjecture. Conclude. Suspect. Speculate.
Presume.
The intention, here, is not to belabor a pedagogic point. It
is to reveal a common malapropism as a stumbling block to intelligent discourse
about science, religion and matters of everyday life.
Especially with a 'True Believer'.