The Method of Argument

Summary

In this section, the author explains that scientific reasoning, which in the pre-Einstein era considered the inferential argument sufficiently valid to reject religion, now provides, in the post-Einstein era, the soundest proof for the veracity of religious truths, such as the existence of God and the reality of the Hereafter.

The history of scientific knowledge can be divided into two different phases—the pre-Einstein period, and the post-Einstein period. In the pre-Einstein period, scientific knowledge was confined to that portion of the material world that was observable and measurable. And so, it was held that only those things had a real existence that were physically observable by man, while anything that could not be so observed (like God, the soul, the Hereafter, etc.) had no real existence. According to this way of understanding reality, called Logical Positivism, only the seen world was real, and what was unseen was unreal or some kind of fiction. For proponents of this way of thinking, the only valid argument was one that was demonstrable in material terms. If something was not measurable in this way, it was said to be simply a baseless claim, and not a valid argument.

But in the post-Einstein period, in the early years of the 20th century, when the atom was split, the whole situation changed. After the splitting of the atom, matter as a solid substance disappeared. It was replaced by the micro-world beyond the atomic world, where everything was reduced to unseen waves. These waves were themselves neither measurable nor observable. Only their effect could be observed and measured.

After this revolution in knowledge, logical or rational argument also changed drastically. This changing situation compelled philosophers and the scientists to revise their logical criteria. It has now become an accepted fact that inferential argument is as valid as direct argument.

Present-day science includes in its ambit many things (such as electrons, the law of gravity, X-rays, etc.) which are non-material in nature. They cannot be observed by the human eye, but every scientist believes in their existence, for the simple reason that although we cannot see these things directly, we can see their effects—for example, a falling apple, in the case of gravity, and a photo film, in the case of X-rays. We believe in the existence of all these things, not by direct observation but by their results, or, in other words, by way of indirect knowledge or inferential argument.

This change in human knowledge also changed the theory of logic. It is now well established in science that the inferential argument is as valid as the direct argument. In the pre-Einstein era, unbelievers held that the concept of God pertained to the unseen world and that since no direct argument was available to prove it, belief in God was illogical. They considered all the relevant indirect arguments as scientifically invalid, since these were inferential in nature. But now the whole situation has changed. As nothing is really observable, the existence of anything can be established only by means of the inferential argument, not the direct argument.

If the inferential argument is valid with regard to the unseen micro-world, it is also valid with regard to the existence of God and other religious truths. Bertrand Russell admitted the fact that the argument centering on design propounded by theologians seeking to offer evidence for the existence of God is scientifically valid. The fact is that when there is design, there must also be a designer. We see that our world is well designed. This should lead us to believe that there is a Designer of it—God.

The Line of Argument

The modern age versus religion is basically a case of reasoned argument versus the acceptance of revelation. Modernity has it that religious beliefs and dogmas do not pass muster when subjected to tests devised by the most advanced methods of scientific reasoning. Today’s apprehension of reality is through observation and experiment, but since religious beliefs concern the supra-rational sphere of existence, they are thus considered unverifiable. Arguments in their favour are based entirely on assumption and inference: this being so, they are declared to have no acceptable scientific basis. In his book Religion and the Scientific Outlook, T.R. Miles writes:

It might be said that metaphysicians of the past have done something comparable to writing a cheque without adequate funds in the bank. They have used words without proper ‘cash’ to back them; they have been unable to give their words ‘cash-value’ in terms of state of affairs, ‘The Absolute is incapable of evolution and progress’ is a grammatically correct sentence; but the words are like a dud cheque, and cannot be ‘cashed’.

This statement purports to show that the claims of religion are unfounded as they are neither based on any valid argument, nor scientifically demonstrable; religion belongs strictly to the domain of faith, and reality is considered verifiable as such only when it is external to this domain.

But this case against religion has itself no basis in fact. It should not be forgotten that the modern method of reasoning does not insist that only those things which can come under direct observation have a real existence. A scientific supposition which is based on direct observation can also be as much a fact as the result of scientific experiment. We cannot, however, say that a scientific experiment is always right simply because it is an experiment, just as we cannot take it that a scientific supposition is wrong, simply because it is a supposition. Either has the possibility of being right or wrong.

The distinguished physicist, Robert Morris Page, makes an important point that the “test of a hypothesis involves the establishment of conditions consistent with the hypothesis to produce results predicted by the hypothesis on the assumption that the hypothesis is true.” He then goes on to narrate an incident which clearly bears this out:

When ships were built of wood because it was commonly believed that in order to float, they had to be built of materials lighter than water, the proposition was made that ships could be built of iron and still float. A certain blacksmith stated that ships built of iron could not float because iron would not float, and he proved his point by tossing a horseshoe into a tub of water. His assumption that the hypothesis was untrue foreclosed the possibility of his devising an experiment consistent with the hypothesis, which might have produced the result, predicted by the hypothesis. Had he assumed the hypothesis to be true, he would have tossed an iron washbasin into the tub of water instead of an iron horseshoe.1

To all intents and purpose, the blacksmith had conducted an experiment and had arrived at the truth. We must obviously be extremely wary of activities which are said to be experiments and which are, therefore, supposed to produce correct results.

We must also be wary of incomplete or inadequate observation. In the days before high-powered telescopes had been developed, ordinary telescopes revealed distant clusters of heavenly bodies as masses of diffused light. On the basis of such observation, a theory was advanced that those heavenly bodies were actually gaseous clouds undergoing a formative process, which could turn them into stars. But when these bodies were observed later through more powerful telescopes, it was noticed that what had initially appeared as luminous clouds was, in fact, a whole galaxy of completely formed stars which had obviously only appeared gaseous in composition because of its enormous distance form the earth.

It may not be possible to prove the existence of God by observing Him through a telescope, but it should be remembered that we do base our arguments for His existence on the meaningfulness and design of the visible universe. Claude M. Hathaway, the designer of the “electric brain” for the U.S. National Advisory Committee on Aeronautics at Langley Field writes in an essay entitled “The Great Designer” of what he thinks of the rational bases of his belief in a supernatural God. He states, most pertinently that “design requires a designer.” As an engineer he had learned to appraise order and to appreciate the difficulties associated with design which brings together the forces, materials and laws of Nature in such a way as to accomplish a desired objective. He had, in short, learned to appreciate the problem of design by being faced with the problems of design.

It was my job, several years ago, to design an electric computer that would rapidly solve some complicated equations encountered in two-dimensional stress theory. This problem was solved by an assembly of hundreds of vacuum tubes, electro-mechanical devices, and complicated circuitry, and the completed “brain”, in a cabinet about the size of three large pianos, is still in use by the National Advisory Committee on Aeronautics at Langley Field. After working on this computer for a year or two and after facing and solving the many design problems which it presented, it is completely irrational to me to think that such a device could come into being in any other way than through the agency of an intelligent designer.

Now the world around us is a vast assembly of design or order, independent but interrelated, vastly more complex in every small detail than my “electronic brain.” If my computer required a designer, how much more so did that complex physio-chemical-biological machine which is my human body—which in turn is but an extremely minute part of the well-nigh infinite cosmos?2

It is the perfection of the functioning and intricacy of design of the universe, which brings us to the conclusion that it must be the creation of some divine mind.

Our reasoning does not, directly prove the existence of God, but it certainly establishes a credible framework – within which one is, of necessity, induced to believe in God. The point must be made that observation and experiment are not absolute sources of knowledge in themselves. Moreover, it must also be accepted that our direct experience and observation, alone, rarely yield complete knowledge. For instance, if it is claimed that water harbours microorganisms, this appears to be a very queer assertion. But the moment we look at water through a microscope, it is seen to be true. Similarly, the claim that the earth is round — an inference — must be backed up, not by unaided human observation, but by pictures taken by telescopic cameras from a spacecraft.

The modern age has undoubtedly seen the invention of a number of sophisticated instruments, which enabled us to experiment and make observations on a much wider and more detailed scale, than was hitherto possible. But the things that such devices are able to bring under our observation and within our experience, are in themselves, superficial and relatively unimportant. What is important is the theory, which is based on them. All the theories, later formulated, on the basis of these observations and experiments relate to the invisible and, as such, the unobservable. Looked at as a matter of theorizing, the whole of science boils down to an explanation of certain observations. Although the theories themselves do not come under observation, the process of observation and experimentation compel scientists to believe that such and such facts may be accepted as established.

But the antagonists of religion deny believers the right to affirm the truths by the same scientific methods by which they imagine they have rejected religion. They should then find themselves obliged to concede that religion is a rational matter. It is rather like having an efficient lawyer for the prosecution, but disallowing a lawyer of similar calibre for the defendant just in case the latter should benefit from the legal system. Then, suppose we accepted the definition of reality as something which we could directly observe and experience, the claims of the anti-religionists that there is no God, no divine power at the helm of things, would be justifiable only if they could prove that every single thing which was observable in the universe had been observed by them, and that neither God, angels, heaven, nor hell had been discovered. Obviously, they are not in a position to do so. Then what method, or procedure, has provided them with the basis for an argument against religion? Whatever it is, it is not based on the direct observation of religion, but on an explanation of certain observations. For instance, the discovery of gravitation led them to believe that there was no God sustaining the universe, since the law of gravitation was there to explain this phenomenon. It is clear that the observation on which this theory is based is not of the non-existence of God. That is, no telescope has quite finally given us the news that this universe is free from any signs of God. His non-existence had rather been inferred from the observation of quite other events.

I maintain that the method of argument, which is based on inference and has been considered in modern times sufficiently valid to reject religion, can—it would appear paradoxically—provide the soundest proofs of the veracity of religion. The fault does not lie in the principle of the argument used, but in its application. When correctly applied, the result will confound the anti-religionists.

Scientists and materialists should stop and think that they cannot move forward by so much as an inch without using terms like force, energy, nature, laws of nature, etc. But do any of them know what force is, or what nature is? The maximum that scientists have managed to contribute is an interpretative vocabulary by which the invisible causes—unknown and unknowable—of certain known occurrences and manifestations may be referred to. For instance, the electron is unobservable. It is so tiny that neither can a microscope show it, nor a weighing scale weigh it. Yet, in the world of science, the existence of the electron is considered a reality. This is because although the electron itself is not visible, some of its effects repeatedly come within our experience, and no explanation can be found for them other than the existence of a system like that of the electron. The electron is a supposition, but since the basis of this supposition is indirect observation, science must concede that it exists.

Yet a scientist is unable to offer any explanation of its inner reality, in the same way that a religious man cannot explain God. Both of them, in their respective fields, harbour a blind faith in an unknowable cause of the universe. According to Dr. Alexis Carrel, “The mathematical universe is a magnificent network of calculations and hypotheses in which there exists nothing but unutterable abstractions consisting only of equations of symbols.”3

Science does not, and can not claim that reality is limited only to what enters directly into our experience through the senses. We can see with our own eyes that water is a liquid, but the fact that each molecule of water consists of two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen is something which escapes us, because these atoms are not visible. But perceived facts are far from being the only facts we can know. There are facts which we can know of, rather than know. The way to arrive at them is by inference. For instance, we apprehend water by direct perception of its appearance. If I examine a drop of water through a microscope, I can have a better understanding of it. But it is only by inference, and not by direct observation that I can grasp the fact that each molecule of water is composed of two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen.

A.E. Mander, in his book Clearer Thinking, observes with great pertinence:

It is useful to reflect that, if we were equipped with different senses, all that we now perceive would be unknowable to us by direct perception. For example, if our eyes were as powerful as a microscope, we should be able to see bacteria. But we could not then perceive elephants. We should be obliged to infer their existence.

Similarly, we now perceive the phenomena, which, being of wavelengths lying within certain limits, are registered by our sense of sight. There are millions of facts we see. Yet if our eyes were differently constructed so that they were turned to long wavelengths instead of very short ones, then we should have direct sense perceptions of wireless waves, which now we know only by inference, but we should then have no direct perception of all that part of the universe which is now visible to our eyes. We could only infer it (p. 48).

Later, he goes on to remark:

Of all the facts in the universe of fact, we can know some, relatively few, by sense perception. But how can we come to know of others? By inference, or reasoning. Inference or reasoning is a mode of thinking by which, starting from something known, we end by forming a belief that there exists a certain fact hitherto unknown.

How can we be sure that there is any validity in this thought-process that we call ‘reasoning’? How can we be sure that the belief which we form by reasoning is true?

The answer to this is that we do begin by simply assuming that our methods of reasoning are reliable, that they lead us to conclusions, which correspond with facts. Starting from facts known by sense perception, we may reason to the conclusion that some other fact, though not yet perceived, exists. We may thus be as sure of an inferred fact as we are of any perceived fact, provided that our original data are perceived facts.

The same method of reasoning leads us to thousands of different conclusions. They are now so highly probable that we can regard them as approximate certainties
(p. 49).

This basic principle may be summed up in a single sentence: The reasoning process is valid because the universe of fact is rational (p.50).

The universe of fact is a harmonious whole. All facts are consistent with one another with an astonishing organization and regularity. Therefore, any method of study, which does not bring the harmony and balance among facts into bold relief, cannot be valid. Emphasising this point, Mander observes:

The perceived facts are only isolated fragments of the universe of fact, only patches of fact. All that we know by sense perception is partial and patchy, meaningless when regarded by itself. It is only when we come to know more facts—many more than we can directly perceive— that we begin to discover among them the first signs or order, regularity and system.

He makes his point with a very simple example.

We may perceive a bird, after striking a telephone wire, fall dead to the earth. We perceive that some muscular effort is required to raise a stone form the ground. We perceive the moon passing across the sky. We perceive that it is more tiring to walk uphill than downhill. A thousand perceptions all probably unrelated. Then an inference is made—the law of gravitation. Immediately all these perceived facts, together with this inferred fact, fit together; and so we are able to recognize order, regularity, system, among them all. The perceived facts, regarded by themselves, are irregular, unrelated, and chaotic. But the perceived facts and the inferred facts together make up a definite pattern.

A fact is said to be ‘explained’ when we are able to show how it fits into a system of facts; when we are able to recognize it as part of a regular, orderly, inter-related whole (p. 51).

Further to this he says:

Another way of saying that we have explained a fact is to say that we have discovered its meaning. Or we may say we explain it by discovering the cause and conditions of its existence. All this comes to the same thing: we have fitted that fact into a definite pattern of facts; we have recognized its necessary relationship to other facts; and we have ascertained that this particular fact is only an instance of some universal law, or part of the universal order (p. 52).

In the above examples, the law of gravitation, in spite of being an accepted scientific fact, is in no way observable. What scientists have observed with their own eyes, experienced as a matter of sensory perception or measured by scientific instruments is not gravity itself, but certain regularly occurring phenomena caused by gravity which compel them to believe that some force does exist which may be interpreted in terms of a law of gravitation.

It was Newton who first deduced the law of gravitation, and today it is accepted as a scientific fact throughout the world. Newton, in a letter to Bentely, comments on its nature from a purely empirical point of view:

It is incomprehensible that inanimate and insensitive matter can exert a force of attraction on another without any (visible) contact, without any medium between them.4

Something which is incomprehensible, because it is invisible, is today accepted without question as a scientific fact. Why should this be so? The answer is simply that, if we accept it, we can explain some of our otherwise unfathomable observations. It follows that a fact may be accepted, as such without its actually having been subjected to observation and experiment. An invisible concept that co-ordinates various observations in our mind and throws further light on known facts is, itself a fact of the same degree and quality. Mander comments:

To say that we have discovered a fact is to say, in other words, that we have discovered its meaningfulness. Or to put it another way, we explain a thing by knowing the cause of its existence and its conditions. Most of our beliefs are of this nature. In fact they are statements of observation (p.53).

Mander then broaches the problem of observed facts.

When we speak of an observation, therefore, we always mean something more than pure sense perception. It is sense perception plus recognition and some degree of interpretation (p.56).

As John Stuart Mill says: ‘We may fancy that we see or hear what in reality we only infer. For instance there is nothing of which we feel more directly conscious than the fact of the distance of an object from us. Yet what is perceived by the eye is nothing more than an object of a certain size and a certain shade of colour.’

Mill further remarks, ‘It is too much even to say, “I saw my brother,” unless we recognize that such a statement, as statement of observation, includes something more than pure sense perception. For all that we perceive, strictly, is some object of a certain shape and colouring.

We compare this with memories of the appearance of our brother, then it is only by comparison and inference, that we interpret this new sense perception and judge that we are looking at our brother.

‘All reasoning is concerned with postulation and testing of theories. Every accepted theory is a statement of a fact about other facts. Whatever we arrive at, by inference, is a theory. If it can be shown to correspond with actual facts, it is true, and if not, it is false. The theory must fit all the known facts to which it refers, and only then can one proceed to deduce from it hitherto unknown facts’.

According to Mander, ‘We may say that finding a theory is like discovering the pattern into which a number of particular facts and the general laws which govern them will fit. It is like putting together the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle from which one or more pieces are missing. When we have fitted together all the pieces available (the known facts), we can see what the missing pieces must be like to enable them to fit into the gaps’ (p.123).

On the basis of this very principle, scientists have agreed upon the truth of organic evolution. To Mander, this doctrine has so many arguments in its favour that it may be regarded as an ‘approximate certainty.’5

The authors of Science of Life assert that “no one now denies the truth of organic evolution except for those who are ignorant, or biased or superstitious.” New York’s Modern Pocket Library has published a series of books entitled Man and the Universe, the fifth of which series hails Darwin’s The Origin of Species as an epoch-making work, and points out that of all theories of genealogy, this one has at, one and the same time, received the maximum religious opposition and the maximum scientific acclaim.6

G.G. Simpson contends that ‘the theory of evolution is a fact proved finally and conclusively, and is no more simply a conjecture or alternative hypothesis adopted just for the sake of scientific research.’ The Encyclopaedia Britannica (1958) accepts organic evolution as a truth and says that after Darwin, this theory has received a general acceptance among scientists and scholars. R.S. Lull writes:

Since Darwin’s day, evolution has been more and more generally accepted, until now in the minds of informed, thinking men there is no doubt that it is the only logical way whereby creation can be interpreted and understood. We are not so sure, however, as to the modus operandi, but we may rest assured that the process has been in accordance with great natural laws, some of which are as yet, unknown, perhaps unknowable.7

One can estimate the popularity of this theory by the fact that, in his 700-page book, Lull has summarily dismissed the concept of the special creation of life in just one page and a few lines, whereas the whole of the rest of the book is devoted to the concept of organic evolution. Similarly, the Encyclopaedia Britannica (1958) devotes less than a quarter of a page to the concept of creationism, while fourteen pages have been devoted to the concept of organic evolution. Here too, the evolution of life is treated as a fact and it is stated that after Darwin, this concept gained general acceptance among scientists and the intelligentia.

Now we come to the question of whether this theory, which still receives general acceptance, has been observed by its upholder’s own eyes, or its validity demonstrated by experiment. It must be conceded that, to date, this has not been done, nor will it ever be possible to do so. The reasons put forward for this are that the supposed process of organic evolution took place in too distant a past and that, in any case, it is too complicated to be subjected to observation or experiment. This is a ‘logical method’—to quote Lull—of explaining the phenomenon of creation.

Then what are those arguments in favour of organic evolution, which have led scholars of this modern age to proclaim the ‘truth’ of this concept? Here, I shall deal with some of their basic aspects.

1.        The study of animal life shows that there are inferior and superior species. These range from single-cell life forms to those with billions of cells. They differ too qualitatively, in terms of their abilities.

2.        When this initial observation is correlated with the fossils preserved in the various layers of the earth’s crust, it becomes apparent that an evolutionary order exists which correspond to the point in time at which they appeared on earth. The fossils of life forms that inhabited the earth millions of years ago, although buried in the earth, are still traceable. These reveal that in far distant ages, the animal species living on earth were very simple, but gradually evolved into more complex and developed forms. This means that all of the present forms of life did not come into existence at one point of time; the simpler forms came first and the more developed forms came later.

3.        Another feature of the evolutionary process is that, in spite of the difference in species, life forms are marked by many resemblances in their biological systems. For instance, a fish resembles a bird; a horse skeleton resembles a man’s and so on. It follows from this that all the living species have descended from the same family having one common ancestor.

4.        How did one species follow another? Did some transmutation take place? It becomes clear when we think of how an animal gives birth to many offspring, not all of which are uniform in their features, many actually being quite different from each other. These differences develop in the next generation and go on developing according to the process of natural selection. After hundreds of thousands of generations, this difference is increased to the extent that a small-necked sheep turns into a long-necked giraffe. This concept is considered so important that Haldane and Huxley, the editors of Animal Biology, have coined the term ‘Selection of Mutation’ of evolutionary changes.

It is this fourth criterion which is cited to prove the concept of evolution. That is, the supposition, or its effects, need not have come within our direct experience, but such observations have been made as help us to make a logical inference of the truth of the supposition, or, in other words, to verify the truth of the hypothesis.

The advocates of the theory of evolution have not yet, however, carried out any observation of, or experiments on the material basis of this theory. For instance, they cannot show in a laboratory how inanimate matter can give birth to life. The only basis they have for their claim is that the physical record shows that inanimate matter existed before life came into the universe. From this they infer that life came out of inanimate matter, just as a baby emerges from its mother’s womb. Similarly, the change of one species into another had not been experienced or observed. Experiments cannot be set up in a zoo to show how the mutation of a goat into a giraffe takes place. The inference that the species did not come into existence separately has been made purely on the basis of the similarities between species and the differences that exist between siblings.

The belief, too, that intelligence has developed out of instinct, implies that man has also evolved from animals. But, in actual fact, instinct has never been seen to develop into intelligence. This is also purely an inference based on geological research which demonstrates that fossils of animals endowed with instincts are found in the lower strata, while those endowed with intelligence are to be found in the upper strata.

In all such arguments, the link between supposition and truth is only one of inference and not one of experiment or observation. Yet, on the basis of such inferential arguments, the concept of evolution, in modern times, has been considered a scientific fact. That is, to the modern mind, the sphere of academic facts is not limited only to those events which are known by direct experience. Rather, what logically follows from experiments and observations can be just as well accepted as established scientific facts as those facts, which come directly or indirectly under our observation.

The statement is, nevertheless, debatable. Sir Arthur Keith, who is himself a staunch supporter of organic evolution, did not regard the theory of evolution either as an empirical or inferential fact, but as ‘a basic dogma of rationalism’.8

A reputed Encyclopaedia on Science describes Darwinism as a theory based on ‘explanation without demonstration.’

Why is it, then, that an unobservable, and non-demonstrable process is accepted as a scientific fact? Mander writes that it is because:

a)        it is consistent with all known facts;

b)        it enables scientists to explain vast multitudes of facts which are otherwise inexplicable.

c)         it is the only theory devised which is consistent with the facts (p.112).

If this line of reasoning is considered valid enough to bear out organic evolution as a fact, the same formula could well be used to establish religion as a fact. The parallel being evident, it seems paradoxical that scientists should accept organic evolution as a fact, while rejecting religion as having no basis in fact. It is evident that their findings relate, not to the method or argument, but to the conclusion. If something, of a purely physical nature, is proved by the method of logical positivism, it is immediately accepted by scientists. But if anything of a spiritual nature is so proved; it is rejected out of hand, for no better reason than that this conclusion throws them into a state of mental disarray. It does not fit in with their preconceived ideas! The case of the modern age versus religion is, strictly speaking that of predisposition, and not that of particular scientific reasoning.

From the above discussion, it becomes quite clear that it is not proper to regard religion, on the one hand, as being based on faith in the unseen, and treat science, on the other hand, as being based on observation. It must be admitted that science, no less than religion, is ultimately a matter of having faith in the unseen. Scientific findings, based on observation, are tenable only so long as they deal with the initial and external manifestations of nature, but when it comes to defining ultimate realities answering the question ‘Why’? and not the question ‘How?’ science must yield pride of place to religion, for it fails to answer this momentous question; it has to fall back upon faith in the unseen, something for which religion in latter times has been much criticized.

Sir Arthur Eddington’s view that the table at which the scientists of today are working is, in fact, a set of two different tables, is illuminating.

I have drawn up my chairs to my two tables. Two tables! Yes; there are duplicates of every object—one of these tables has been familiar to me from my earliest years. It is a commonplace object of that environment which I call the world. How shall I describe it? It has extension; it is comparatively permanent; it is coloured; above all it is substantial, it does not collapse when I lean upon it; it is a thing.

Table No.2 is my scientific table. My scientific table is mostly emptiness. Sparsely scattered in that emptiness are numerous electric charges rushing about with great speed, but their combined bulk amounts to less than a billionth of the bulk of the table itself.9

Similarly, everything has an invisible aspect, which cannot be observed even through a microscope or a telescope. It becomes comprehensible only in terms coined by physicists to fit their own particular theories. Science does, of course, by means of advanced technology, observe the outward form of things in far greater detail than the naked eye is capable of, but it can never claim to be able to observe the inner form of things. Science observes external manifestations, and accordingly forms an opinion about them. So far as discovering the ultimate reality is concerned, science can only learn about unknown facts through facts which are already known.

When a scientist attempts to correlate observed facts in the process of producing a working hypothesis, he resorts primarily to instinctive, belief-like concepts in order to explain, organise and relate his findings. If the hypothesis, which emerges from this stringing together of observed facts offers a reasonably satisfactory explanation for all of them, it is regarded as being ‘scientific’ and, therefore, as credible as an observed fact. It must also be borne in mind that an invisible reality is often regarded as a fact, simply for lack of other hypothesis, which will offer a cogent explanation for it. When a scientist says electricity is a flow of electrons, he does not mean that he has seen electrons flowing through an electric wire by means of a microscope. He merely explains an observed event in terms of the movement of the switch that makes the bulb light, the fans move and the factories run. What has come within our experience is simply an external phenomenon and not, by any means, the event that is being inferred. A scientist, in short, believes in the existence of an invisible fact, after having noted its instrumentality; or impact upon observable phenomena. But we should never forget that every fact that we believe in is always, in the beginning, a simple assumption. It is our making of an inference, which connects the switch and the bulb with one another. Therefore, even after admitting this observed relationship between the switch and the bulb, the fact of whether or not the scientific hypothesis regarding this connection is real or unreal, will still remain in doubt.

It is only later, as further information emerges to support this assumption, that its truth becomes more and more evident, until we feel that our belief has finally been confirmed. If the facts discovered do not support the original hypothesis, we feel justified in discarding it.

An atom provides an irrefutable example of scientists’ faith in the unseen. An atom has never physically been observed. Yet it is the greatest established truth accepted by modern science. A scholar has rightly defined scientific theories as ‘mental pictures that explain known laws.’ In the field of science, the body of so-called ‘observed’ facts are not so in the strictest sense of the word: they are simply interpretations of certain observations. Human observation, even when aided by the most sophisticated devices, can never be assumed to be absolutely perfect. All interpretations based on human observation are, therefore, relative, and may change with an improvement in the technique of observation. J.W.N. Sullivan points out in his book, The Limitations of Science, that:

It is evident, even from this brief survey of scientific ideas, that a true scientific theory merely means a successful working hypothesis. It is highly probable that all scientific theories are wrong. Those that we accept are verifiable within our present limits of observation. Truth, then, in science, is a pragmatic affair (p.158).

This notwithstanding, a scientist regards a hypothesis which provides a reasonable explanation for his observed facts as being in no way inferior to other academic facts based on observation. His contention is that his hypothesis is as much a matter of science as observed facts are. This, ultimately, is tantamount to a belief in the unseen. Belief in the unseen is not qualitatively different, as an intellectual activity, from belief in observed facts. It is not the same thing as ‘blind faith’. It is rather the most appropriate explanation of the observed facts. Just as the corpuscular theory of light propounded by Newton was rejected by twentieth-century scientists because its explanation of the phenomenon of light was found unsatisfactory, we likewise reject the materialistic theory of the universe, because it does not offer a satisfactory explanation for the phenomenon of life and the universe.

The source of our belief in an all-powerful Divinity is exactly the same as that which a scientist takes recourse to for his scientific theories. It is only after making a thorough study of observed facts that we have reached the conclusion that the explanations offered by religion are the ultimate truth—truth of such an order that, since time immemorial, it has remained unaltered. In the light of new observations and experiments, all man-made theories, which were formulated within the last few hundred years are being re-scrutinised, and many, in the process, are being discarded. Religion on the other land, presents a truth which is becoming more and more clearly manifest with every advance in the field of scientific research. It is supported and testified to by innumerable significant discoveries.

In the next chapters, we shall study the fundamental concepts of religion from this standpoint.

Notes

1.        The Evidence of God in an Expanding Universe, Edited by John Clover Monsma. p. 26.
2.      Ibid., pp. 144-45.
3.      Man the Unknown, p. 15.
4.      Works of Bentley, Vol. III. p. 221.
5.      Clearer Thinking, pp. 112-113.
6.      Philosophers of Science, p. 244.
7.      Organic Evolution, p. 15.
8.      Revolt Against Reason, p. 112.
9.      A.S. Eddington, The Nature of the Physical World, (Cambridge, The University Press 1948), p. 261.

Maulana Wahiduddin Khan
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