(Question 8) Some people are bothered when scientific hypotheses change. Your friend, “Bob,” thinks that because scientists change their hypotheses so often, it shows they don’t really know anything. As a result, he prefers to follow the advice of his favorite politicians and social media personalities. Provide Bob with at least four important points to help him understand that changing hypotheses are actually a strength of the scientific process rather than a weakness.
Oh, Bob. Bob, Bob, Bob… you fool. You asinine, wool-headed, stiff-necked fool. You believe humility a weakness? You believe it weak to be able to admit your own shortcomings? To acknowledge that one is mortal, as much as any man? Do you not realize the fallacy in your logic? You say it is better to deny that there are holes in the foundation upon which you stand rather than to seek to patch those points of failure. You deny yourself countless opportunities for growth and the joy of discovery in favor of a simple, broken “truth” that satisfies nothing. You listen to those who have learnt nothing from the world around them and seek to push it away, rather than those who had sought to immerse themselves in a universe so complex that it can appear frightening, until one sees the patterns start to emerge. Politicians and social media influencers know only the shine of the lights and allure of money, and nothing of the grit of progress. They occupy themselves with what is and what was, and never give time for what is to come, and thus they wallow in their ignorance like pigs in mud. True scientists push on into the unknown. The Unknown, with its discomfort, its darkness, its fearsome, terrifying, uncontrollable unpredictability. It writhes, writhes before us, reminding us in every terrible movement that we are not gods, we are men, and we know nothing. We cannot ever truly behold the Unknown, and light cannot land upon it in anything other than glints, like starlight limning the tentacles of a kraken before it consumes the sailor’s ship. And yet, true scientists do not run in fear; the eldritch does not drive them away. True scientists record what they see in those split-second moments when the light draws shapes in darkness, and they heft their harpoon and launch it. And if they miss—they know now where not to throw.
True scientists pester. We cannot truly ever know anything for certain, that is the nature of the world, hoarding its secrets like a dragon hoards gold—but scientists will follow it continuously, pestering and pestering until the dragon makes a mistake and drops a single coin or two. Coin by coin, glint by glint, the scientific world has been built and tested. And over time, some coins have been found to be wood, and some glints have been found to be tricks of the light—and in doing away with those mistakes, we have built and even more glorious foundation upon which to stand.
And so, Bob, I ask you—is it better to sit in the dark and do nothing? Or is it better to go forth into the unknown and find out what is worth knowing?