Science with Commonsense

When it seems like a science result is about providing proof for commonsense; this would be bad if it was that we needed proof of commonsense in order to regard or appreciate it. But then, it is good to get some scientifically originated affirmation of sense that should be common: to see the science of the sense.

When the results of a scientific investigation contradicts true commonsense, they may tell us that it is counterintuitive, trying to overlay our doubts with grammar—semantics. But commonsense ought not be conflated with intuition, even if their outcomes might be similar.

So, if a ‘scientific’ result contradicts true commonsense, then, the investigation probably got something wrong, somehow. But then we know that the scientific method, which is a very commonsensical process, is very much involved in the identification of sense that we can make common.

My science versus your science

Scientific results and associated recommendations do not always align on the same issues. That’s part of the beauty of academia. In cases like these, some people take sides, assuming different opinions.

It is interesting to think of personal science: my science versus your science. This thought coming from arguments about the relativity of truth and morality: ideas that speak of truth as truths that may vary from person to person — that my truth about a certain issue could be different from yours.

For differing ideas on the same issue and in the same domain to be true at the same time, however contadictory, truth has to be personal. In the same vein, for contradictory scientific opinions to be valid at the same time, they have to be personal. But in the case of science, this sounds particularly funny — almost unscientific.

The Strongest Position in Agrippas Trilemma

Or, why are grapes sweetly delicious?

Because they are just so since they’re grapes. (Going round in circles.)
Because something definite makes them taste that way,
which has something else making that thing the way it is,
and so on, ad infinitum. (Never arrives at an answer.)
Because some interaction, or thing, makes them that way. Period. (You just have to stop somewhere.)

Agrippa’a trilemma says that if we ask, “How do we know that this is true?” about a series of inferences, eventually we face three equally weak options:
1. The axiomatic argument, in which we find some unquestionable truth, some solid bedrock, as basis for all knowledge. (Weak because we shouldn’t take anything for granted.)
2. The regressive argument,  in which each proof requires a further proof endlessly.
3. The circular argument, where, somewhere along the way, we explain the premise by the final conclusion.

Comparing the three, we’d never get anywhere definite with points 2 and 3. That leaves us with point 1, that we should take at least one thing as granted; that we might want to assent to the idea of an ultimate cause. Which of the three is easiest to swallow?

The strongest position to take in Agrippas Trilemma is indeed to think that there is a cause that is causeless. That’s the only way it works. Because circular reasoning brings us back to the question, and having an infinite cause-effect continuum never ultimately answers the question.

What are we really saying if we say that there is no beginning, no single point of origin? If there is always a cause, we may get to the paradox of existence: that if we exist, then there must always gave been existence, otherwise, there should be no existence at all.

Therefore if there must be the certainty of an answer, things have to stop somewhere. And the characteristics of where it stops (the answer) explored to affirm or confirm that it can/does answer the question well enough.

We can now ask those hard questions: Is the Big Bang really the start of it all? Is there not the one God? So why are grapes sweet, again? How come he behaves that way? Why do I love you? …