1. The ability to predict the outcome of a specific experiment precisely.
2. Error-free foretelling.
Plato defined knowledge as ‘justified true belief’ (JTB), and his successors have not improved on
his proposal in 2000 years. Indeed, it is relying on Plato’s JTB definition that religionists manage to
persuade the pushover that they ‘know’ God (by which they mean that they know of God’s existence).
The reasoning goes something like this:
1. Knowledge is belief.
2. I believe in God.
3. Therefore, I know that God exists.
However, this version reduces all knowledge to subjective opinions and is impossible to use
consistently.
For instance,
1. Knowledge is belief
2. I don’t believe in God.
3. Therefore, I know God doesn’t exist.
So what have we learned? Clearly, JTB is an inadequate definition in a scientific context. And this is
where we are today in the ongoing debate between theists and atheists.
A good approach for arriving at a definition of knowledge that we can use consistently in a dissertation
is to brainstorm the properties we typically associate with this formidable word. Knowledge seems to
enjoy three essential features. It alludes to:
1. what you demonstrate to others
2. in a single experiment,
3. and to the future rather than to the past.
The way you demonstrate knowledge to someone is by predicting what is going to happen in a
specific experiment. And before you can make a prediction in front of an impartial jury, you must
run the entire film in your head first. You have to visualize the experiment from beginning to end,
including its result. In Science, we allude to this visualization as an explanation. You are giving us
your version of how a physical event we are all familiar with happened. A prosecutor acts as his
own juror.
For example, Hank Morgan, Twain’s Connecticut Yankee, saved his skin by ‘predicting’ unequivocally
that an eclipse would occur. He knew! I can predict that this pencil is going to fall to the center of the
Earth when I let go of it. If my prediction comes true, then in retrospect I knew! And you can probably
predict that it’s going to rain in the next few minutes when you see certain types of clouds in the sky.
If it rains, you knew! If not, you didn’t. You merely had a hunch. You risked an intelligent or lucky guess
based on experience and it proved to be wrong.
In other words, the way to certify knowledge is to make a specific prediction and then prove it
objectively with an experiment or by observing the phenomenon. We test knowledge with a single
experiment. If we were to attempt to determine knowledge with a series of experiments, we would
have to run the test incessantly and then some more. There would be no possibility of knowledge
because the definition would leave a loophole.
For example, it is unscientific to say that you know that gravity will ALWAYS pull this pen to the center
of the Earth when you let go of it. We have no way of testing your statement within our lifetimes. We
can only test whether you know that this pen will fall to the floor if we let go of it NOW. This is a black
and white, yes or no type of issue. The pen either falls to the ground or doesn’t and, in retrospect, you
either knew or you didn’t. This definition summarily circumscribes knowledge to future, specific events.
The skeptic and devil’s advocate will reply that the attributes I just identified – future, single experiment,
to others – do not enable us to discern between authentic knowledge and lucky or intelligent guesses.
What if you were merely speculating and it turns out that you just got lucky? What if we run another
identical experiment and the results are different? It certainly seems that the only foolproof way to tell
the difference between knowledge and guess is through a series of repeatable experiments. For
example, you may claim to know that this pen is always going to fall to the ground. But we cannot be
absolutely sure that this is true unless we run many experiments. So how many should we run before
we certify knowledge?
Actually, let’s get to the point: there is no such thing as knowledge. No person can factor or consider
all the variables that may affect an experiment. We simply cannot predict the future precisely whether
we run one or many trials. For example, the mathematicians at NASA calculated the exact itinerary of
the Challenger and predicted that the shuttle would go into orbit. Obviously, the Fates had other plans
for it. In retrospect, the mathematicians at the control center were not predicting, but rather speculating.
They did not have every bit of information necessary to tell you exactly what would transpire.
So now, let’s do the pen experiment 10 times just to reinforce this argument. You make a prediction
immediately before each trial and we run the experiment. We do this nine times and you predict
successfully that the pen falls to the floor. On our last run, we let go of the pen, but it miraculously
stays floating in the air. Now we have confirmed that you didn’t really know. You were just guessing
all along. While you are still pondering this miracle, I disclose my secret to you. The reason the pen
stayed in the air was that I asked a friend of mine to turn on a strong electromagnet during that final
trial, a factor you didn’t ‘know’ about.
You may argue that my prank proved nothing. We all ‘know’ that gravity pulls everything down.
However, your statement is unscientific because it is not specific enough. We have no way of testing
it. It is irrational to run tests incessantly to empirically prove or confirm your categorical claim. The
objective facts are that you failed to predict 100% of the times. Consider, for instance, what if the pen
had stayed in the air without my friend's intervention? What if Mother Nature decides to play a trick
on us? What if this phenomenon is one of her laws or one of those rare exceptions to one of her laws?
What will this say about your ability to predict and about your absolute ‘knowledge’ of gravity? You
didn't prove that you know. You proved that you can guess intelligently (i.e., speculation based on
experience).
Nevertheless, an individual may have all the material facts under his control (weight, speed, variables),
but never control the actions of living entities. You may allege to 'know' or predict that your son is
going to eat the candy you leave on the table, perhaps because you 'know' him so well. This is not
knowledge, but again just a guess. What if we check later and discover that he did not eat the candy.
Maybe he wasn't hungry or he was sidetracked by something else or an earthquake opened the floor
beneath him and swallowed him before he swallowed the candy. What does this say about your
alleged 'knowledge.' Your ability to predict was objectively refuted.
In Science, there is no such thing as knowledge simply because scientists don't do predictions. To
know not only means that the 'knower' has already made up his mind, but that he can't retroactively
change it. Otherwise, he did not 'know' when he claimed that he 'knew'. He was just guessing and
guessed wrong.
Only idiots known as relativists do predictions. However, like astrologers and palm readers, these
individuals are not a part of Science. Science is the body of explanations that follow the scientific
method. There is no provision for experiments or for Mathematics in the definition of Science. In
Science, we don't prove. In Science, we explain. Science is the ability to explain; not the ability to
predict. The Romans mistakenly used the word scire ('to know') or scientia ('knowledge') in the
context of an explanation (i.e., a consum-mated event). This is where we got side-tracked in our
definitions of Science and knowledge.
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Copyright © by Nila Gaede 2008