Evidence and the Evolution of a Closed Mind

Scientific evidence is always – always – interpreted. What happens when it’s only interpreted according to previously accepted dictums? A rigamarole of self-supporting science that really isn’t suspended from anything at all.

Remember geo-centrism? It accurately (although complicatedly) described the observed phenomena. Same with helio-centrism, although it accomplished the same functions more elegantly. The point is, identical observations were available to both theories.

When people seized upon evolution, it was rooted not in the scientific rigor of the theory, but the fact that it offered intellectual credibility to the secular mind: finally, a theory that didn’t need God. Ever since then, there has been a self-fulfilling system of
1. predetermined bias against any cosmology compatible with a deity, followed by
2. Only interpreting available evidence in terms of this secular cosmology, which becomes
3. a system where only one theory has “evidence,” due to an unwillingness to examine the evidence in any other way, rooted in #1.

So there are indeed “shreds of evidence” for theories besides evolution: the exact same shreds that exist for evolution. Evidence is observation: when you conflate evidence and the interpretation of evidence, you’ve already gone a good way towards making your science unfalsifiable, which I’ve been told is a bad thing. The evidence is there: all that’s lacking is a willingness to examine the old observations in a new light.

Now, I’m not saying this is unfair. Far from it. Everyone has their biases, and everyone has fundamental axioms which they will inevitably interpret the world by. The sticky part is when scientists claim neutrality as their demesne. No, they are human like the rest of us: and until they realize that their actions, including interpretation of evidence, spring from preconceived ideologies, their science will be fatally close-minded.

The biggest mistake a scientist can make is taking his own worldview for granted – and that includes evolution.

Glory Too Fast

Here is a recording I came across yesterday.
Listening to it was one of the few things that have left me speechless in my life.

Once you have listened to a few minutes of it, allow me to explain why I was speechless.
The modern paradigm of evolution has, by and large, attempted to rob us of any concept of objective beauty. If the world and all that is in it is not in some way a guided thing, if it developed on its own, then one would expect to see many fundamental, deep, and unsurpassable divides between species. There would be a fundamental incompatibility between the multitude of branching paths,just like technology of different generations.

This proves it wrong.

The crickets are singing in several octaves, but the scale they are using is the exact (and I mean perfectly) same eight-tone scale that Bach, Beethoven, Schutz, Mozart, Handel, Praetorius, Josquin de Prez, and any other classic composer used. Apart from accidentals (halfway points between pitches) the crickets are using our good old, Sound of Music do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do. It is a musical system of harmonic sounds that function together naturally: the world of sound is built so that these sounds actually belong together and work, just as certainly as a biochemical reaction or gravity. It’s built into the world.

How is this overlap between crickets and humans even possible? It’s a sound too fast for our ears to hear. It wasn’t our sound. Why should we expect to find it appealing, on an evolutionary framework? There’s simply no way for it to benefit us, or for us even to be aware of its existence.

But when we find it, it is like finding a painting on a rock in the middle of a forest. Someone left it there. It was supposed to be beautiful, and it was placed there intentionally, for us to find. Pure gift. It is as astonishing as the footprint in the sand was to Robinson Crusoe. We thought we were alone, and look: someone has been here the whole time.

Not only this, but the way it was found implies an even more organic connection between crickets and humans. Not only does the sound sound beautiful to both, but it becomes beautiful to us only when adjusted to match our lifespan. We didn’t just slow it down until it sounded good: there was a mathematical operation that occurred and it resulted in beauty. In logical form, it looks like this: [cricket music:cricket lifespan :: Human lifespan: ???]. There is a fundamental proportionality here, a concept that resonates far more with a medieval perspective on life than with our modern one. For the medievals, the world was structured according to proportions, mathematical regularity, and the world was a dance. The planetary spheres made music to the Lord. Everything was organized and that organization produced beauty and music. For them, these crickets would fit right in. For us, it is a sledgehammer to the brittle concrete of skepticism and reductionistic materialism. Both crickets and humans were made by the same God, a God who is beautiful. And that is why the crickets sound like choirs. Because they know to sing God’s praise. It was glory too fast for us, but we caught up. Our ears are tuned now a little better to hear those praises, and we must, if we value our humanity, learn to join in.

Listen.
And sing.