Religion should learn from science about overturning worldviews

After almost 20 years of regularly posting on this Church of the Churchless blog, I've learned a lot about how believers in the supernatural look at things. Which isn't a major surprise, since I used to be much more of a believer in supernatural stuff myself that I am now.

But I always had a healthy dose of uncertainty about this. I thought that a supernatural realm was a reasonable hypothesis. Or if not reasonable, at least a hypothesis that appealed to me, given that I really liked the notion that one day I could learn the secrets of the cosmos that lie beyond the physical.

What's surprised me, though, is how cavalier some mystically and religiously inclined people who visit this blog would talk in comments left on posts about supposed supernatural experiences that, if they were true, would upend much of modern science. 

Like, that consciousness isn't dependent on a brain but can float free of materiality via the soul or subtler astral/causal bodies. And that the origin of our universe exists in an immaterial divine realm. If anything like this could be proven, it would be an astounding revolution in the human worldview.

I've been reading a book by particle physicist Harry Cliff, Space Oddities, that discusses in a highly readable and entertaining fashion how science deals with roughly similar issues. The simplest way Cliff puts it is to quote Carl Sagan: "extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence." 

Meaning, if you want to overturn a worldview, you're better come armed with some damn persuasive reasons why this is justified. Just saying, "believe me," isn't going to cut it. 

In a series of fascinating chapters about anomalies that challenged a scientific understanding of reality, Cliff describes the nitty-gritty process of science that is used to assess whether an anomaly is something to be taken seriously, or lacks credence. It'd be great if would-be explorers of the supernatural would apply an equal amount of skepticism to their own investigations.

The "A Magnetic Mystery" chapter blew my mind about the extent to which scientists will go to study a phenomenon that could cast light on an important scientific question. In this case, it was how magnetic a muon particle is. 

A key reason why this is so important is that muons, being much more massive than electrons, should interact much more strongly with undiscovered quantum fields. Cliff says, "Put another way, there's more likely to be treasure hidden in the quantum froth that bubbles around the muon that there is around the lowly electron."

The anomaly in this instance was a minute difference between an experiment that measured the muon's magnetism and the predicted value: though just 2.9 parts per billion, the discrepancy "quickly became the most famous anomaly in particle physics."

To determine whether the standard model of particle physics truly needed to be modified, or if the discrepancy was due to chance or experimental error, an amazing amount of scientific labor went into a more refined measurement of the muon's magnetism. 

A gigantic magnet had to be repurposed for the experiment. This required transporting it thousands of miles through a circuitous route from where it initially resided to the new experimental setup. Freeways had to be closed to accommodate the movement of the magnet. 

I won't go into all of the details, which boggle the mind. All of this effort was to determine the experimentally observed strength of muon magnetism and compare it with two theoretical predictions. If there was a statistically valid discrepancy, then the possibility of revealing hitherto unknown laws of nature and quantum fields was strong. 

This passage inspired me, as it shows how scientists (unlike religious believers) are hyperaware of the danger that their own desire to discover something new could screw up an inquiry into the nature of reality.

Until that day, the analysis had been performed "blind," which meant that the value of the muon's magnetism had been kept hidden from everyone on the experimental team, Polly included. Blinding is a widespread practice in physics these days as a defense against conscious or unconscious biases creeping into a measurement.

The risks of being able to continually look at the answer while you are adjusting your analysis methods are self-evident. Even the most dispassionate scientist has their prejudices and preconceptions, their hopes and fears.

Imagine you had worked on both the Brookhaven and the Fermilab experiments; you might well hope that the new Fermilab measurement would confirm the result you got at Brookhaven, and so, when choosing how to analyze the data, you might be drawn toward techniques that move the new measurement closer to the old one. 

By blinding yourself, the temptation to nudge the result in your preferred direction is removed. 

But fervent believers in Jesus, or a guru, have no problem considering that they've seen something real when a vision of their beloved manifests in their consciousness. Wishful visioning doesn't enter their mind, though clearly it should. 

 

Comments

[sant64]

"And that the origin of our universe exists in an immaterial divine realm. If anything like this could be proven, it would be an astounding revolution in the human worldview."

It already is proven. Science says the universe began 13 billion years ago. Before that, there was literally nothing. No time, no space, no energy, no matter. How did nothing give rise to matter?

Then there's the question of life on earth, what accounts for its genesis? If we stick to material causes, how did chemicals give rise to a cell, and how did that cell mutate into giraffes and hummingbirds? That is, how do we explain the extremely advanced coding platform of DNA?

[Appreciative Reader]

"It already is proven...
...How did nothing give rise to matter?...
...how do we explain the extremely advanced coding platform of DNA?"

Heh, textbook, elementary God of the Gaps. Charming.

[Truth]

AMEN. 💯 agree