This blog emphasizes epistemic humility, where one might say that the only genuinely mistaken position is claiming certainty about metaphysical matters (as well as many other topics beyond this blog’s scope). That’s why I describe my views as a hope rather than a certainty, and I maintain this is the only truly rational stance anyone can adopt given the inherent uncertainty in our knowledge. This means we make a choice — we are not convinced by proof, the presence or absence of evidence, or even profound personal experiences. None of these can be completely determinative; they serve only as data points around which we construct the narrative in which we choose to place our hope.
Unfortunately, rejecting this perspective is common. Instead, many claim certainty even when it is not warrented, sometimes even ridiculing those who don’t share their views.
Part of the reason stems from a fundamental human fear: the fear of being wrong. This fear challenges our self-conception, often so powerfully that we spiral into increasingly absurd justifications for our beliefs rather than admit error. When confronted with information contradicting a deeply-held view, we often rationalize harder, reframing reality to support our initial position. This phenomenon is sometimes called a dissonance reduction spiral.
Regarding religion, my position is not that any particular religion is necessarily correct, but rather that there exist different belief systems—religious viewpoints—all viable to some extent, yet none provable or disprovable with certainty. In other words, multiple coherent and rational viewpoints exist. However, many people disagree with this assessment. Claiming certainty and insisting on being definitely correct appears far more common.
Religious believers certainly exhibit this pattern, such as when they ignore rational arguments or evidence, stridently insisting one must “just believe,” spiraling into rationalizations unsupported even by the Bible to avoid revisiting their theology. This spiral can lead to any doubt or question being perceived as evil, with even minor variations within the same faith viewed as apostasy.
This happens among non-religious people too. For instance, belief in strict physicalism can become so entrenched that any challenge proves difficult to accept because it might evoke religion, even when religion has nothing to do with it. In such cases, belief in physicality spirals into rationalizations unsupported by scientific evidence simply to reject anything seeming religious. Examples I’ve discussed elsewhere — such as the Missoula floods or the Big Bang theory — have generated precisely these responses.
Today, this spiraling behavior may be occurring in areas where standard physicalism remains entrenched. For example, several topics previously discussed in this blog can be framed as spirals:
Consciousness. Rather than considering some new aspect to reality (which suggests dualism, which evokes religion), many assert consciousness is merely an illusion.
Fine-tuning. Rather than positing purposeful aspects to reality itself (which points toward teleology, which evokes religion), many postulate a near-infinite number of cosmologically alternate universes.
The quantum measurement problem. Rather than positing that some non-human agency participates in the universe (which suggests another form of dualism, evoking religion), many adopt the postulated existence of near-infinite parallel universes. Alternatively, the problem is simply ignored, as in the Copenhagen interpretation’s implicit attitude: “Shut up and calculate!”
For theists, solutions that evoke religion pose no problem. But for unquestioning physicalists, doing so becomes a show-stopper. Consequently, spiraling to increasingly extreme positions becomes typical in order to avoid exploring ideas that challenge the prevailing version of physicalism.
Note that the issue isn’t that these ideas are inherently religious — no more so than the Missoula floods or the Big Bang once were — merely that they appear to point in that direction.
The dissonance reduction spiral affects us all, regardless of our worldview. Whether motivated by religious conviction or strict physicalism, we tend to protect our core beliefs by rationalizing away challenges rather than confronting uncertainty honestly. Recognizing this tendency in ourselves is the first step toward genuine epistemic humility. By acknowledging that our beliefs represent choices about where to place our hope rather than indisputable truths, we create space for intellectual honesty and productive dialogue across divides. The question isn’t whether we’ll be drawn into these spirals — we all will be — but whether we can recognize them, resist their pull, and remain open to perspectives that challenge our certainties. Only then can we engage authentically with the profound mysteries that resist our attempts at definitive answers.
(Note, this essay was created with assistance from an AI, but the ideas and overall organization are mine.)