A working definition of Truth

Scientists discuss their work in elaborate ways.  They invest vast amounts of time and intellectual resources toward writing papers and creating presentations.  Often the organization of work takes as many hours to produce as the original work itself.  There is a reward, however: the more effort put into a paper, the easier it is to understand, the more precise the results, and the more convincing the argument.  But their effort would all be pointless if none of them believed their own arguments.  Instead, each scientist believes they are uncovering a previously hidden part of reality.  Science seeks to discover, not to interpret.

We often take this idea about science for granted, but it is profound.  It implies that when a scientist speaks about atoms, he does not mean that, for him, atoms are a good way of understanding physics, but that there are atoms and the universe is made of them.  To disagree is to be mistaken.

Consider the alternative.  If each of us was allowed to have our own understanding of physics, how could we communicate, how could we make progress?  It seems absurd to suggest that there can be no certainty about the physical world.  Yet, without Truth, we are forced to embrace this absurdity.  Truth is what lets us talk about the real world.  It implies there is a right understanding of reality.  It implies there is something to discover.  But it is uncompromising, because it also implies that we can, at times, be utterly wrong.

This is my working definition of Truth.  There is a reality, and we can discover it.  There is a right and a wrong, a good and a bad, and these words have a meaning beyond mere feeling or interpretation.  It may be difficult to find, but it is there.