Truth, Knowledge, or Just Plain Bull: How to tell the difference

by Bernard M. Patten

  General knowledge is tentative because it is based on a generalization derived from experience. It is always possible, in principle, that the very next experience will be surprisingly different and require you (and us, and everybody, really) to doubt the previously received general conclusion.

  Understanding the nature of generalization helps you discover truth. Discovering truth will help keep you out of trouble. Discovering truth will help insure your prosperity. By truth, recall, we mean what is, what exists, what’s real. If you know the truth, you should be able to clearly state not only what is true but also what is not true, what isn’t, what doesn’t exist—what’s not real. Knowing what is true and what is not true is the information key that helps us function effectively in the real world. Remember, if you wish to survive and prosper, dealing with reality is not optional.

  p. 26 Principle: Generalization is good; overgeneralization is bad.

  Generalization helps us face truth and reality because it gives us short rules to describe the nature of things.

  Overgeneralization impairs our ability to face truth and reality because it gives us short and simple rules that do not describe the nature of things. Therefore, generalization is good because it leads to truth and overgeneralization is bad because it leads away from truth.

  But what are we talking about? What is generalization? What is overgeneralization? How do they come about and why?

  Definition: Generalization occurs when we construct a general rule from specific observations.

  Here’s a method of producing reasonable generalizations: After a series of observations, extrapolate from the particular events observed to a general rule that will describe all cases of that observation, past, present, and future. This is the way all, or almost all, scientific rules or laws are derived. Yes, believe it or not, all scientific reasoning occurs by taking particular observations and constructing a general rule that explains all the observations. Any correct scientific theory, whether of time or of gravity or any other concept, is based on this, the most workable philosophy of knowledge. This approach is called the positivist approach. It was originally put forward by Karl Popper and Auguste Comte and others.

  Accordingly, a scientific theory is a model that describes and codifies the observations that we make and have made. A good theory accurately describes a large range of phenomena on the basis of a few simple postulates. A good theory will make definite predictions that can be tested. If the predictions agree with the observations, the theory survives that test, though—and this is very important—it can never be proven correct absolutely and for all time because it is based on experience. There is no guarantee that the next experience will not differ from the previous observations. If the new observations disagree with the predictions, the theory is proven incorrect, and one has to discard the theory and construct a new theory that better explains all the observations, the old and the new.

  Principle: Real general knowledge is reality based.

  p. 27 Fundamentally, all correct general knowledge is reality based. And thus, all correct general knowledge is subject to repeated testing and repeated reconfirmation by real observations. Consequently, no general knowledge is absolute. By the nature of the methods from which it is derived, no general knowledge is or can be known to be absolutely true. Instead, all general knowledge is tentative and must always be considered tentative, provisional, and uncertain. There is no way around this fact. The uncertainty arises from the method by which the general knowledge comes about, and, because of that, the uncertainty cannot be overcome.

  Even mathematics, the queen of the sciences, has been plagued with reasoned “proofs” once thought perfect and later found defective. In the natural sciences, practitioners are forever correcting and amending the misjudgments and misconceptions of their predecessors. That’s how scientific progress comes about.

  Junk science, perverted science, and pseudoscience are not reality based.

  The tentative nature of science is one thing, its perverted nature another. Keep in mind that the scientific method can be and has been abused. In the nineteenth century, measurements of cranial proportions were adduced as evidence of the inferiority of African and native North American populations, and in the past century, the theory of Aryan race superiority was based on a perverted anthropology.

  We should be acutely aware of how authoritarian regimes recruit sycophants to their service, including scientists—who, like poets, should have been on the side of intellectual freedom, truth, and justice but were not. It turns out that Kaffirs, Eskimos, and Polynesians have larger brains and cranial measurements, on the average, than whites. So the argument, put forth by many ignorant whites, that brain size predicts superiority couldn’t be pushed too far. Later in this book, we will show why, using scientific definitions of Aryan and race, there is no such thing as an Aryan race.

  In contrast to general knowledge, particular knowledge can be absolutely true, known absolutely to be true, and defended as true absolutely.

  General knowledge can be and often is provisional. Particular knowledge can be and often is absolutely true and known to be absolutely true, true for all time and all places. That Scipio Africanus defeated the Carthaginians at the Battle of Zama in 202 BCE and thereby ended the Second Punic War is known absolutely. What makes this statement true is the strictly nonlinguistic fact that it happened. In the p. 28 twentieth century, several million people died of AIDS. The sea is salty. Water is wet. Six times five is thirty. The World Trade Center has been destroyed. All those are particulars—particulars that are true. They are not reasonably disputable. They are true now and will be true forever. In their realm those facts are important. “The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows,” said Robert Frost.[1]

  But their truth, their particular truth, is not the only truth that we want and need. We need other truths, relevant truths, general truths, novel truths, or interesting truths—truths that are disputable yet needed.

  These truths, the truths we also need, are disputable because when we go from many particulars to a general statement, the presumption about evidence not experienced must occur. This is known to some in the logic business as “the leap of faith.” The “leap of faith” in the scientific sense is an extrapolation from particular data to a general rule. It has nothing to do with faith in the religious sense.

  “Leap of faith” for this basic scientific assumption of inductive logic is a poor term because people tend to infer that it somehow is similar to or identical with the “faith” that underlies most religions. The faith of religion (as I understand it) is not based on experiments, observations, or analysis of particular natural phenomena but relies instead on revelation, an alleged supernatural communication directly or indirectly from the deity. With the faith of religion having no basis in fact or reason, Tertullian (155-222? CE), a father of the Catholic Church, summed up the position of religious faith by saying in his famous work the Apologeticus, “I believe because it is absurd.”

  This process of going from the particular to the general is called induction, and the form of logic involved is inductive logic. Inductive logic is the process of extrapolating from particular events observed to a general rule that covers all observations related to such events.

  Isaac Newton used inductive logic to arrive at the law of gravity. Newton observed that apples fall from trees. He studied the rate of fall of various objects and concluded that in no case did objects ever fall upward. In all cases, they fell down toward the ground. Therefore, Newton told us that there is a force, which he called gravity, that makes those objects fall. He told us that because there were no exceptions, the force of gravity is always attractive. Furthermore, by doing experiments and measurements, Newton found that all objects fall down with a uniform accelerating rate (on earth) of thirty-two feet per second per p. 29 second. This rate was and is always the same for all objects, whether dropped, thrown horizontally, or shot horizontally from a gun.

  Newton also concluded t
hat the same force caused water to run downhill and that same force also holds the earth, sun, and stars together and keeps our moon and the satellites of other planets in orbit. In his book Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica (1687), Newton showed that all observations of earth’s gravity could be explained by a single law of universal gravitation that attracts every other celestial body with a force described by

  where G is the universal gravitational constant, m1 is the mass of object 1, m2 is the mass of object 2, and r is the distance between them.

  Note that Newton reached this conclusion by an extrapolation from his particular observations that he actually made and measured to events and things that he could not actually physically measure. Since Newton did not measure the gravity of all heavenly bodies, at all times past, present, and future, he had to generalize from his particular observations that they would follow the same gravitational rules as the objects followed here on earth. By making this generalization, Newton could not possibly predict all future observations on the subject because they had not been made and the results could not be known. Newton opened himself to a possible falsification of his generalization. If someone could show that there was just one single exception to his gravitational generalization, then Newton would be proven wrong.

  This is the reason that all inductive reasoning is hypothetical and tentative: A single contradiction would require revision of the generalization. In other words, if I could show that there were objects that were attracted to each other that did not have mass, or objects that did have mass that did not attract each other, and so forth, I could prove Newton wrong.

  If I proved Newton wrong, revisions in the Newtonian theory of gravity would be needed because the generalization that Newton propounded would not have described reality exactly. About this particular vulnerability of inductive logic to experimental evidence, more later. Right now, here’s the principle:

  p. 30 Principle: A generalization is proved wrong by finding one exception.

  From which follows:

  Lesson: Prove a generalization wrong by finding one exception to the generalization. Once you have found the exception, the generalization is wrong. Act accordingly.

  Albert Einstein proved Newtonian gravitation wrong by finding an exception to Newton’s laws of gravity. According to Einstein, gravity is not a force but relates to the geometry of space-time, warped or curved in the presence of matter or energy, the way a mattress sags under a heavy weight.

  In 1919, Einstein proved that gravity is not a force and that mass bends space-time around it. Einstein showed this by predicting that photons would bend toward the sun as if attracted by the sun’s gravity. Since photons did bend exactly as predicted by Einstein, Newton’s laws of gravity had to undergo revision. That revision, among other things, is now called general relativity theory.

  Don’t feel bad about this. Newton wouldn’t have felt bad about it. Why should you? Newton probably would have rejoiced at the refinement proffered by Einstein because it flashes with the steel of reason. Because it—not Newton’s theory—predicts the experimental results, it more closely reflects the nature of reality. Einstein’s prediction is a remarkable illustration of the sheer force of thought that Newton would have loved. And whether Newton would have loved it wouldn’t matter. For despite his or anyone else’s personal preferences, that’s the way it is. That’s the reality. That is the reality of what light does when it passes the sun. And that’s the way progress is made. That’s the way our knowledge is refined and expanded.

  Principle: Good generalizations encompass all examples.

  Principle: All scientific principles are tentative and subject to revision in the face of new data.

  From which follows:

  p. 31 Lesson: If scientific principles, which have the firmest basis in reality, are tentative, then all general principles are tentative.

  If someone can recite the alphabet backward, chances are that he or she can recite it forward. If you can do the hard thing, chances are you can also do the easy thing. If our hardest, most solid, most refined and difficult form of general knowledge is provisional, then our less refined and less rigorous forms of general knowledge must be more so. Therefore, we are required to look for exceptions to any and all generalizations so that our understanding of reality may improve and we can get closer to the truth.

  Principle: All general principles are tentative, whether scientific, religious, political, and such. All general statements are fair game for repeated tests of truthfulness and reality. Therefore, no general truth is absolute.

  From which follows:

  Lesson: The word all and that word never are too general for intelligent use. People who say all or never usually do so at their peril.

  Wait a second! If all principles are tentative, then the above principle is tentative, too.

  You spotted the snag. Don’t look at me that way. It’s not my fault. Logicians have argued your point for years. It’s a problem.

  Or is it?

  I am not asserting that that principle is an exception to the general principle. I am, in fact, considering that principle as also subject to the discovery method. Right now, I can’t think how the principle might be falsified, but someone in the future might be able to discover how to prove it wrong. Thus, until proven wrong, the principle must stand:

  Principle: All principles are tentative, including this one.

  Work out on the above rule. See if you can use it to prove something. Try to think about the following question: Do women who wear p. 32 glasses smoke cigarettes? How would you resolve this question? How would you answer it and know that you are right?

  When working on such statements, it is helpful to transform them into positive statements (called hypotheses) and then try to prove the positive statement wrong. The question then becomes: How would you prove that the following statement is right or wrong?

  Women who wear glasses never smoke cigarettes.

  Or (which is the same)—Women who smoke cigarettes never wear glasses.

  For most of my time as a teenager, I believed that women who wore glasses did not smoke cigarettes and that women who smoked cigarettes never wore glasses. I arrived at that generalization by a series of observations based on the fact that every woman I saw who smoked had no glasses and that every woman who had glasses did not smoke. How could my original hypothesis about this situation be falsified? That is, how could you prove that I was wrong?

  Sit back and think about this for two minutes. Time your thinking by the clock. See if you can actually prove something. See if you can prove the statement false. Address the specific question: How would you prove my hypothesis wrong?

  OK. Did you come up with anything? Got it? Don’t get it?

  It’s important to understand yourself. “Know thyself” was the motto written on the wall of the temple of Apollo at Delphi. Socrates, too, thought that the beginning of all knowledge: Know thyself. Those who saw the movie The Matrix know that the same motto was written on the wall of the old woman’s kitchen. Why is it important? Part of knowing thyself is to know what you know and what you don’t know. The Socratic questions for his students were part of his general program to get them to know themselves. Here’s the Socratic paradox. Socrates said he knew more than others because he knew that he knew nothing. Others didn’t know anything but thought they did. Therefore, Socrates was ahead.

  Another example: When a scientist does an experiment and it comes out the way he thought it would, he rejoices. When a scientist does an experiment and it comes out differently from the way he thought it would, he rejoices more.

  Huh? When an experiment goes wrong, scientists like the idea? Why?

  The second experiment exposes ignorance. The second experiment opens things up for the possibility of progress, for the discovery of p. 33 something new and different. That’s what scientists are in business for, the discovery of new knowledge, not the simple confirmation of what is already known. All progress depends on dis
covering the new.

  So if you got the answer to the question above, great. But if you didn’t, that is greater still because it indicates you are now aware of your own ignorance. It shows that you are about to make, or at least have the possibility of making, some real progress. It indicates that you need to improve your powers of thinking. It shows that you have the potential for benefits from further study and application.

  With that great benefit in mind, let’s get back to the women smokers with glasses problem.

  It is obviously wrong. What was your answer? Do woman with glasses smoke? Or don’t they? How would you prove it one way or the other?

  Here’s one answer. My theory about smokers and glasses would be proven wrong by finding one woman who wore glasses and smoked. In fact, one fatal day (fatal for my theory, that is), I saw a woman in the park stop walking her dog, pause, and light up a cigarette. Since she was wearing glasses and smoking, the exception to my scientific theory was found. The theory was proved wrong. Soon after that, I saw multiple people violate the rule that I had previously thought inviolate. That’s not unusual.

  Once a generalization is proven wrong, many similar examples usually follow.

  Why when one exception is uncovered, multiple other exceptions surface almost right away is not entirely clear. But it is a common enough observation, even in scientific work. Probably this has something to do with the way we humans view reality. We may have a deep unconscious bias that tends to make us observe the things we expect. And we may have a deep unconscious bias not to observe the things we don’t expect. When a rule is proven wrong, we tend to see the light, so to speak, and uncover multiple other examples. Thus might the scales drop from our eyes. Thus might our knowledge of reality take a giant leap forward. The process can be painful, especially for our bruised egos (and our depleted retirement funds). The process illustrates the immensely complex situations with which we are involved as we struggle to draw firm conclusions, to distinguish appearance from reality and truth from falsehood.