Krispaelion:
When you talk about questioning the framework of "empiricism," essentially you are suggesting that we should be skeptical of the scientific method. That's not really a legitimate conclusion. This is because we can legitimately question the framework of a structural organization of knowledge like taxonomy, and we can legitimately question the framework of a theoretical explanation of physical phenomena like gravity, because in these instances the word "framework" refers to concepts we create. We can and should be skeptical of the concepts by which we interpret the world. The validity of systems of organization is dependent upon the factual information they contain, and they must always therefore be treated subordinately to their underlying facts. Meanwhile, scientific theories are explanatory, and explanations imply an assertion of truth--truth which is justified on the basis of the underlying facts. Theories also must be treated subordinately to the facts they explain, because if the facts are not accounted for then the theories concerning them become incomplete, or even false.
Why are facts--specifically, the facts describing physical phenomena--superior to systems of organization and theories of explanation? Philosophically this is pretty heady stuff, which you can appreciate, but on the lay level it's very simple: Facts matter in a way that concepts don't. Nobody ever died by being
classified in the animal kingdom, but many an
animal has died in the history of the world. Similarly, nobody ever got killed by the
theory of gravity, but the
fact of it has claimed many a life over the eons. Now, we don't have to use words like "animals" and "gravity." The labels are arbitrary. What isn't arbitrary is the relatedness of separate instances. The reason we have the concept of "animals" is because there are enough
things out there which share enough physical characteristics and behaviors in common that we find it useful to talk about a group:
animals. Likewise, there's something pretty consistent about the direction of motion that objects will travel in (at least on the Earth's surface) if the ground beneath them is removed. That came to be called
gravity.
These advances in human thought did not come easily. They are both recent developments in the tale of a species whose civilization extends millennia into the past. And we have no guarantee that future advances in human thought will not greatly alter or even entirely overturn these concepts of animals and gravity. Skepticism is due.
Science itself, however, is not built out of a
conceptual framework.
Its framework is
procedural, and indeed the scientific method does not need to be understood conceptually at all in order to be applied. It emerges, unbidden, from the
fact that the universe behaves in predictable ways:
1. Make an observation.
2. Ask a question.
3. Form a hypothesis.
4. Run an experiment.
5. Evaluate the hypothesis.
6. Draw a conclusion.
7. Verify the conclusion.
At each step in the scientific method, we must commit to an action which is in some way falsifiable. Our observations may be faulty. Our question may be irrelevant. Our hypothesis may be incorrect. Our experiment may be flawed. Our evaluation may be illogical. Our conclusion may be false. Our verification may be atypical. These are some of the perils of ignorance. What is
not falsifiable is the method itself:
If our observations are accurate;
if our question is pertinent;
if our hypothesis is correct;
if our experiment is sound;
if our evaluation is valid;
if our conclusion is true; and
if our verification is representative;
if all of these things are so--and we do not
know that they are so (Sam I am)--but
if they are so, then we will have achieved some specific understanding of the phenomenon at issue. It cannot
not be so, because the only way it could not not be so would be if the universe did not behave predictably. Because it does behave predictably, the scientific method is valid inherently.
Now, perhaps you would argue that we cannot prove that the universe is predictable. Perhaps the universe only
appears predictable. That is, logically, a point I must concede. However, just because this "grand cosmic lie" theory is not impossible does not mean it is in any way plausible. Surely you understand the implausibility of the statement "The universe that we experience is a lie." Moreover, such a claim could no more be proved decisively than could the claim that the universe
is what it appears to be, and therefore the two sides would be at a stalemate for eternity. However, one side would have the benefit of continual circumstantial evidence in their favor, while the other side would never have any evidence in theirs. For this reason, even if metaphysical certainty is unattainable, the descriptions of science favor--decisively--the claim that the universe is indeed predictable.
In the same vein, you might claim that our own senses cannot be proved to be reliable. The exact same argument unfolds, and the exact same conclusion emerges: Metaphysical certainty is not attainable, but science supports the possibility that our senses are not some "grand personal lie." This is because we as individuals can begin without knowledge of an external phenomenon--i.e., one outside our consciousness--and can, via the accumulation of data, move from our initial position of ignorance to a point of making accurate predictions about the phenomenon. In scientific terms, that's very compelling.
Your scientific open-mindedness has evolved over the years, and I congratulate you for coming as far as you do today. For some time now you have developed this holdout idea that the scientific method itself has overstepped its bounds. You said:
(I)t is not philosophically inconceivable that there are things which lie outside of the empircal framework.
Now, you're right about that. It is not philosophically inconceivable. However, for you to defeat science and actually hold in your mind the premise that the supernatural is real, you would have to renounce the natural: You would necessarily have to adopt one of two very unsavory philosophical positions: ether solipsism ("The universe is a lie.") or nihilism ("Everything is a lie."). Why? Because nature precludes the supernatural. The supernatural is not predictable. It is not observable. It is not decisively knowable. The existence of even one supernatural speck would render the entire universe suspect, because who is to say what are the properties of a supernatural speck?
I don't know if you've properly grappled with the implications of your assault on objective reality vis-a-vis the scientific method vis-a-vis empiricism, but, even if you have, I think you have yet to realize that your faith-based knowledge of god is not immune from all of these same metaphysical uncertainties which have comprised the backbone of your criticisms. Truthfully, you don't
really know that your knowledge is true; you only
think it is. Thus, you are in the same boat as me when I say I "believe" the sun is going to rise in the morning. My knowledge is fact-based; yours is faith-based, but both are knowledge.
Ironically, my position is going to be affirmed in about two hours whereas your position is majestically untenable: See, right now you're in a terrible limbo, occupying a space wherein your views are inherently self-contradictory. What you really need to do is choose a direction. You have two options: You would be better-justified in asserting the validity of your knowledge of god by abandoning your insistence upon the supernatural. Unfortunately, that would preclude the object of your faith altogether. On the other hand, if you were to embrace the supernatural, you would be unable to validate your knowledge at all, because I could come along and say that you're just plugged into some fancy matrix that has manipulated your consciousness, and you wouldn't be able to prove me wrong.
Damned if you do...damned if you don't. If you ever realize this, you will have no choice but to abandon either your faith or your sanity, and I do feel some sympathy for you, because I think on some level you already suspect that your position is unwinnable.
Most religious people retreat into a shell of ignorance; they never try to do what you are trying to do, which is to reconcile nature with divinity. I despise them; you I can applaud, because it would seem that my earlier accusation of your intellectual incuriosity was at least partially incorrect. However, I can only pity the brick wall you're headed toward. Yours is a road with no turns. I find it wryly intriguing that believers so often pity unbelievers for the supposed emptiness of a godless existence, when in fact their ideal existence is even emptier: When it comes to substance, Nature beats God every time.
I suppose this has digressed unacceptably from the topic of frustration, and I expect the good V_Translanka will ship our posts off to Siberia, but before that happens, O Krispy One, let me take the opportunity to say something that has been bubbling in the back of my mind for some time: In our five-and-counting years of knowing each other, I have alternatively detested and grudgingly admired you. I think, finally, I am ready to say with some finality that you are an admirable guy. We'll probably never agree on this whole god thing, but, and it'll always grate on me that you think I'm wrong (just as I'm sure it grates on you that I think you're wrong), but, outside of this unending contention, and the prejudices of sexism and more which come with your austere Lutheran background, I'm putting away the enmity for good.
It's interesting...
Folks at the Compendium rarely get to see my satisfied side, because usually my role here is to confront or contend or control...all of which require feisty antagonism. Sometimes I get the impression that people here think of me as a grouch, and I wouldn't blame them, because it's the more obvious conclusion. The truth could not be farther away, though. I don't know how clearly my tone has come through in the words, but this was a very satisfying post to write...one of the first times it has ever been satisfying to argue with you. Sure, I know you'll disagree with me. I don't really care anymore. You're a decent fellow and I'm having a good time--and I thought I'd let you know that.
Ten years ago I could have befriended you without any problem. Why? Well, we do have a lot in common. I can tell by the way you write and the words themselves. More importantly, though, I could have befriended you then because it was much easier for me to make friends with ideological (and theological and philosophical) opponents in those days, because I wasn't as aware of myself as I am today, or as developed in my own worldview as I am today, and therefore there was less of a contradiction present in befriending an enemy, and, even when it was present, the contradiction was not as thoroughly noticed.
Then there were the years when I was figuring this stuff out. I've been essentially the same person for this past decade--no huge shifts in personality or worldview. But mine was an emptier slate then than it is now, and my awareness was more primitive, and I had more work that needed to be done in establishing my identity. You will remember how very emphatically we did
not become friends during the entire time we have known each other. More than your religion, it was because I perceived you as a sexist in particular and a closed-minded bigot in general, and I couldn't stand that. But over time I have watched your ideas mature, and, more and more, it seems as though your sexist past has subsided along with your closed-mindedness generally. You never address it directly, but I infer it from your other comments and your style generally that you no longer hold the views you once did, and are no longer as constrained in your speculations as you once were. I first noticed when you were taking that religious philosophy class.
Oh, perhaps I am mistaken and you have merely learned prudence, prudence to conceal your bigotry, in which case I'll submit myself to being made a fool of in front of all these uninterested bystanders. But I'd like to think that I'm right, and that you understand the power of individual exceptions to undermine group-based social roles.
Nowadays, I think I've gotten to the point where I can finally both define and understand a fundamental disagreement with someone, and still befriend that person at the other end of it if they are in possession of appealing qualities. You certainly are! So, if I am correct in my assumption that you no longer hold those sexist views, then your religion itself is no longer an obstacle to me, because, much as I will reaffirm virtually everything I have ever said about religion, I have come to regard you as an honorable person despite your faith, and in my book that's the last word.