The conceit of belief

A recent article I wrote titled “Anecdotes versus evidence” tried to explain the difference between an interesting story with an extraordinary claim and real evidence of a phenomena obtained via the scientific method. Quite predictably, there was a critic lurking on social media who wanted to challenge the crux of the article without bothering to evaluate the content.

In the article I had listed three specific examples of extraordinary claims that apparently could be evaluated using credible scientific evidence proving beyond reasonable doubt that strict materialism was false, and that the metaphysical mind can learn new information even when temporarily separated from the physical brain. The idea behind writing the article was to provide the information and people who disagreed with me could fairly evaluate the same evidence and argue my interpretation of what the evidence meant. This critic merely assumed the evidence to which I referred was no better than any other alleged evidence he’d ever seen, and refused to look at the evidence I had offered. Instead, he wanted to challenge my methodology so he could downgrade the evidence back to only anecdote.

My answer was quick and easy: I had actually looked at the evidence. I didn’t just make an assumption. The direction of his line of inquiry soon became clear: my critic wanted me to acknowledge that I was simply taking the word of witnesses as gospel truth without questioning their veracity. That will only work if we apply the same standard in every situation.

How do we know anything is true? The reality is that we don’t really know very much, but we think we know quite a lot. Our beliefs, many of which are purely based on assumptions, have not all been established as fact. At some point, you will choose to believe something is true without having proved it, and the belief will be so powerful that you will perceive it to be knowledge based on fact. You won’t even realize you’ve made assumptions based on things someone else has told you that you’ve accepted as true but don’t really know to be fact, beyond any reasonable doubt. Don’t believe me?

Let me prove it to you.

Have you ever taken a DNA test? Or have you simply believed the person who has cared for you as long as you can remember is your mother because everyone else said so, including a piece of paper called a birth certificate? If you have had a DNA test performed, could you read the results yourself, or did you rely on the opinion of an expert to interpret them for you? Why should you just take your mother’s word for it that she changed your diapers because she’d given birth to you? I can think of several reasons called logic, common sense, and not being a paranoid lunatic, but should you claim your belief is knowledge-based? Do you believe in the Big Bang? Have you ever seen redshift or cosmic microwave background radiation with your own eyes, or just taken the word of an expert for it?

On the other hand, why should we have to learn how to read a DNA test, when we should be able to trust the professional analysis? Why should we assume that Dr. Spetzler would be mistaken or lying about what he knew about Pam Reynold’s surgery, as the brain surgeon in charge of the whole operation? My critic didn’t want me to claim my personal beliefs in the supernatural are superior to his beliefs as an atheist that the supernatural does not exist. The problem is that my beliefs are evidence based, while my critic’s beliefs depended heavily on his own continued willful ignorance. Predictably, the conversation did not end well after my critic accused me of getting emotional (which technically is true, if irritation is an emotion) because he wanted to argue about the evidence without bothering to look at it. The information was never going to be considered evidence by him, because he was never going to look at the evidence. A classic example of a Catch-22.

The truth is that you believe things you don’t know and often cannot possibly know to be true for a variety of reasons, and trust in an authority figure is right at the top of a list. However, reasonable beliefs are not the problem. The problem is that our confirmation bias toward our own beliefs is often so strong that we demonstrate an arrogant prejudice toward them, and against anything that might disagree with them. It makes sense to accept that your mother is your mother because, quite frankly, who else wanted to change your dirty diapers? Who else would want to feed, clothe, and provide you with shelter? Don’t look at me.

Like my previous article said, my goal hasn’t been to change the mind who isn’t receptive to evidence. I’m not all that keen on the idea of arguing with a brick wall, either. Had my critic bothered to actually look at the evidence, I would have explained why I believed the information was true. However, this particular critic only wanted the argument, not the information, and couldn’t understand why I felt like I had better things to do.

The reality is that I don’t know with absolute certainty that the evidence in Pam’s case is true. However, in order to believe her detailed account was false, I’d be forced to assume that Pam’s doctors were telling deliberate lies in their interviews in order to corroborate her claims, for no discernible reason or apparent gain. True, I’ve relied on the expert opinions of Drs. Michael Sabom and Robert Spetzler to interpret the evidence for me in part because I don’t know how to personally evaluate the scientific and medical evidence. Quite frankly, someone could give me the actual printout of Pam’s neurological output at the exact moment in time she allegedly learned information without using her normal senses and unless it is just a flat line on graph paper, I’m not certain that I could accurately interpret what I’m seeing. My point is simple: I only trust the opinions of the experts when it makes sense to trust them.

On the other hand when I met my friend Matthew Botsford and was handed a MRI image of his skull, I could easily see the bullet that wasn’t supposed to be in there. I guess it all depends on the specific case and the nature of the evidence itself, right? Matthew’s near death experience was unique because he was an innocent bystander caught in a drive-by shooting and claimed his experience was mostly spent in hell. I don’t normally mention his NDE because his account lacked the corroborated and veridical elements that I find so important in these other examples, but I will say one thing about Matthew and his claim to have visited hell–I believe him, because I was looking right into his eyes when he recounted the story. Or, perhaps I should say instead that I am convinced that Matthew sincerely believes the story he tells.

I’m quite happy to acknowledge that I believe the evidence in each of the three cases I cited was genuine and compelling, but I was never claiming to have personal knowledge that would fully authenticate the evidence. I carefully selected those three particular examples because memory mistakes and hallucinations are insufficient explanations that would falsify the evidence–we would have believe in deliberate lies, elaborate plots, and conspiracy theories if all three of these examples should prove to be untrue.

As I explained (or attempted to explain) in the other article, I could believe the evidence in any of the three cases had been mistakenly interpreted or even part of an elaborate hoax, but not all three. I also tried to make it clear why all three must be proved false if strict materialism should be believed. I can easily explain why I believe the accounts of Pam, Michaela, and Rose are three excellent examples of scientific evidence for supernatural phenomena, but more importantly, I can also explain why I know supernatural phenomena is real using only two words: personal experience.

To be blunt, I know that ghosts exist because I grew up in Savannah, Georgia and I’ve personally experienced the presence of an invisible intelligent entity, and not just once but many, many times. You don’t have to believe me; I don’t really care. You can argue that my experiences must have been hallucinations all you want if that’s what you believe, but you know what you can’t do? You can’t claim that you know what they really were, because you don’t. You’re merely arguing that your beliefs are superior to mine, and you’re forgetting something really important. After all, observation is part of the scientific method, isn’t it? I know that I’ve seen things that defies all logic and reason from experience. You may automatically assume that I’m crazy, and that would be the conceit of your personal beliefs. Just because something has never happened to you, you shouldn’t assume it could never happen to anybody. You probably don’t really know most of what you think you do, and yet you honestly believe your preferred “facts” with absolute conviction.

Welcome to my world.

Speak Your Mind

*