In the Middle Ages, the Catholic Church was the arbiter of truth in the West. Even when confronted with incontrovertible evidence supporting the fact that the planets revolved around the Sun, rather than the Earth, they clung to their own antiquated, variation of the truth.

Now, it seems the tables have turned and science, or rather conventional science, has replaced the Church as the guardian of orthodoxy. An example of this is the contention that, unless something can be measured and quantified, it does not exist. Extra sensory perception provides us with a good example. A phenomenon for which there is strong anecdotal evidence is dismissed as charlatanism, simply because it does not lend itself to being readily simulated under laboratory conditions. By extension, anything that is not measurable is treated as non-existent.

In our world there is very little that is truly measurable. For instance how does one measure kindness, graciousness, dignity, or love? Only the most diehard of the scientific realists would subject all their emotional attachments to their family and friends to the same ruthless scrutiny.

Yet another example is how those holding positions of power, having little regard for the nuance of perception and feeling, like to support their claims with hard facts. The only thing hard about these facts is the rigidity with which they are held. Those who quote these facts, do so as if they were universal truths; self-evident, beyond reproach. Interestingly, these universal truths are not universally held to be true. Each society, each tribe, each family, has their own set of so called universal truths.

This supreme conceit of the modern scientific establishment is reminiscent of the inverted logic used by the Inquisition when determining the piety of one of those brought before it. The accused would be tied down and then submersed in water. If they were able, through some divine intervention, to survive, then it was considered proof that God had spoken and they were innocent. In the event that nature took its natural course and they drowned, it was seen as a testament to their guilt. It was a no lose proposition for the Church. If the accused died, the legal system was validated. If they should survive the ordeal, then it was declared a miracle and it provided the Church with a public relations triumph.

Another way of looking at this bias towards the tangible is our conception of the supernatural. When we use the word supernatural, we immediately imply a distinction between that which falls inside the scope of what is natural, and that, which does not. That, which we can explain with science, passes through the filter. That, which we cannot, is thrown into the catchall called the supernatural. This makes no logical sense. If there is a higher order, it must encompass both the natural and the so called supernatural. There cannot be two sets of rules; one for the natural and another for the supernatural. All it really proves is that our understanding of the inner workings of nature is inadequate.

What motivates us to adopt a scientific stance is nothing other than our own fear of the dark. It diminishes us in our own eyes. It erodes our sense of supremacy to think there are things in this world which are unknown, possibly unknowable. Why is it so difficult for us to simply say that we do not know?