I had a discussion a while ago, 3 September now that I think of it, with an interesting fellow. We started off on astronomy (mostly him calling me on my attempt to fake my stargazing-- I used to know where cassiopeia was, damnit!), but wound up quickly on faith. He was determined that science is as 'faith-based' as religion, and I was convinced that it isn't. Two hours later and we've both edged a bit toward the middle position, but still more or less polarized.
In the end, it came down to semantics. He considered that 'faith' meant simply believing something to be true that you have not directly experienced, based upon someone else's word. For me, having had a strongly religious upbringing, it had a very loaded definition that could be summed up briefly as: faith = willful ignorance. Now, I don't necessarily disagree with his stance; as a working scientist I know that most scientific work is done by first reading primary literature and determining whether the conclusions drawn from any particular investigation are valid. Someone else did the work, and I have to take it on 'faith' that if I were to repeat the work I would get similar results, within error.
But I don't call that faith.
Why does that matter, though? Simply put, humans have been trained over millenia to see the world through the lens of descriptive language, and while it is incredibly useful it can, like all tools, become limited and even hindering when edges are pushed. Even ignoring that every language has its own little biases and omissions, consider language as a whole. Language is, at its deepest roots, a shorthand for describing the world. The resulting information is compressed. When I say 'a rock', you can picture a rock, and it may look something like a rock that I pictured when I wrote that word. But it is but a label. Sure, I could have done a better job of describing it; given dimensions, density, composition, morphology, gross and fine physical descriptors, and the like. But each of those is still but a label; some compression of meaning is involved, and it is my opinion, my intuition, that it is a lossy compression.
Can I be described? Aspects of me can be described, but is that me? And if not, then what am I? How can I communicate that essence?
In the end, it came down to semantics. He considered that 'faith' meant simply believing something to be true that you have not directly experienced, based upon someone else's word. For me, having had a strongly religious upbringing, it had a very loaded definition that could be summed up briefly as: faith = willful ignorance. Now, I don't necessarily disagree with his stance; as a working scientist I know that most scientific work is done by first reading primary literature and determining whether the conclusions drawn from any particular investigation are valid. Someone else did the work, and I have to take it on 'faith' that if I were to repeat the work I would get similar results, within error.
But I don't call that faith.
Why does that matter, though? Simply put, humans have been trained over millenia to see the world through the lens of descriptive language, and while it is incredibly useful it can, like all tools, become limited and even hindering when edges are pushed. Even ignoring that every language has its own little biases and omissions, consider language as a whole. Language is, at its deepest roots, a shorthand for describing the world. The resulting information is compressed. When I say 'a rock', you can picture a rock, and it may look something like a rock that I pictured when I wrote that word. But it is but a label. Sure, I could have done a better job of describing it; given dimensions, density, composition, morphology, gross and fine physical descriptors, and the like. But each of those is still but a label; some compression of meaning is involved, and it is my opinion, my intuition, that it is a lossy compression.
Can I be described? Aspects of me can be described, but is that me? And if not, then what am I? How can I communicate that essence?
