How to Choose (and Test) Your Worldview

The common-sense approach

I like believing true stuff. It’s important to me that I know what I believe and why and whether it fits together properly. Since you either subscribe to In Formation or you just chose to read this post, you probably also care about believing true stuff. But the world is complicated, so how can you choose a worldview that matches reality and then test it to make sure it’s reliable?

In my last post, I asked how we can ground our beliefs or claim to know anything with confidence, and wrote about two historical approaches to thinking about knowledge: certainty and scepticism. The short version is that trying to build a collection of knowledge based on absolutely certain foundations is futile, because almost nothing can be known with philosophical certainty; but applying excessive scepticism is futile too, because it leaves us unable to trust any of our perceptions, or even our ability to reason. Both leave us powerless to build from the ground up.

So are we simply doomed to lack solid justification for our beliefs?

No, I think there’s at least one other option. Here I’ll lay out the approach, and show how it helps us solve big problems in evaluating worldviews.¹ I find this framework compelling, so if you think it’s flawed, please help me see its shortcomings! It’s a common-sense approach, and I have tried to formulate it clearly, but the following will (like any essay) repay careful reading.

The Approach

What we need is a way to do three things: (1) get our collection of beliefs off the ground, (2) while ensuring our beliefs are solid, but (3) without ascribing unreasonable levels of certainty to them.² We need a way to get beyond what we know with certainty, while also ensuring that the beliefs we come up with are justified and properly vetted for truth. But how can we justify a belief which inherently goes beyond what we know for sure? Here’s the suggestion, in its simplest form:

1. Propose an interpretation of experience which is initially unproven.

2. Test the interpretation using certain criteria.

3. Review whether the interpretation still looks solid.

It’s fairly clear on reflection that this is our typical approach to everyday questions, as well as those of science, religion, and other theoretical matters. Science is a particularly clear example. We come up with a hypothesis, then see if our observations threaten or confirm the theory. But it’s the same when understanding a statement or a joke: we interpret and react, and it’s often obvious if our interpretation is wrong. It’s a common-sense approach. In fact, it’s hard to see any alternative, once we rule out beginning with absolute certainty.³

So let’s use this approach to come up with a solid worldview.

First, choose some core beliefs. Of course, there will be countless sources for our beliefs, like experience, instruction, intuition, and many others. The approach works no matter what you choose (which will be important later). Think of this collection of beliefs like a web of ideas.⁴

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Step two is applying criteria to our collection of beliefs to check that it makes sense. If our goal is a worldview that (1) makes sense and (2) makes sense of everything, then the worldview should be:

1. Consistent (contain no beliefs which contradict each other)

2. Coherent (contain beliefs which positively compliment each other)

3. Comprehensive (have a capacity to “gobble up experience”)⁵

Great. So the second step is to test our initial web of beliefs for consistency (contradictions) and coherence (positive complementarity). If it looks good on both counts, then the third criterion gives us our third step, which is the key to the whole process.

We want our web of beliefs to be comprehensive. So (step three) whenever we encounter new experiences and data, we need to incorporate them into our previous web, then check whether the web, including these additions, remains consistent (no contradictions) and coherent (positive inter-relations).⁶

If our web is starting to look weak on either count, then we only have two options: (1) re-evaluate the new experience/data, or (2) re-evaluate and ultimately modify our web of beliefs.

So far we’ve seen that the project of producing a worldview “is the weaving of a web of assertions which makes sense out of the whole range of experience without arbitrarily ruling out any of it.”⁷ Although we will never reach this ideal, what we are pursuing is a system of beliefs which can incorporate the whole of reality and still make sense. Each belief is justified by its inclusion in a broader system, which is itself justified by meeting the criteria of consistency, coherence and comprehensiveness.⁸

Challenges

This essay has an ambitious aim. Naturally, it’s open to objections, which I have considered, but mostly kept to the footnotes, because I think it would be unhelpful if this felt like a philosophy paper. However, I think two concerns are worth acknowledging here, because they help illuminate the whole picture. Then we can get on to showing the benefits of this framework.

When I mentioned all this to my Dad, he raised the fair objection that life is too complex for this to be a comprehensive process, pointing out that I will probably never line up my beliefs about pop music, astrology and ethics, so that every contradiction in my worldview is resolved. As with any worldview-forming process, we need to be sensible in prioritising some questions over others, expecting never to arrive at a perfect web of beliefs. Introspection is worthwhile, but clearly some problems are less serious than others.

Another concern may have been noticed by particularly astute readers. This theory enables us to eliminate certain beliefs, because they form inconsistent or incoherent combinations with well-established parts of our web. But does it provide any hope for final verification of a belief, in the way that a system based on absolute certainty could? The answer is again that this reflects not a flawed theory, but human finitude.

We cannot reach philosophical certainty, but we can ensure that our beliefs are tested and refined. We can then say that we have “knowledge” in the sense that a belief is warranted and we recommend it to others. This framework recognises the fatal flaw of its rivals: an idealism that seeks to remove dependence and finitude and replace them with certainty, which is simply not part of humanity’s inheritance.

In fact, this question draws out the first great strength of the theory.

Strengths and Implications

While someone might object that this process will be painfully slow, the natural response is that the person who is not prepared to form their worldview slowly is not cut out for philosophy and, frankly, not cut out for reality. Yet while this web theory is realistic about our limitations in the pursuit of knowledge, it is also optimistic about our ability to navigate the world with confidence.

Specifically, this conception equips us well for the 21st century context, when we are constantly bombarded by different perspectives and worldviews in a way which would be unthinkable for most of history. We can embrace the challenge of pluralism, because it enables us to evaluate competing interpretive schemes without having to fully inhabit them ourselves (which would be impossible). Rather than causing fear, healthy criticism and competition are welcome to those who are confident in their worldview.⁹

Another challenge of the 21st century which is alleviated by this process is the tendency among intellectuals to lean towards left-brained thinking (analytical, verbal, orderly) and away from right-brained thinking (intuitive, imaginative, integrative).¹⁰ Because this theory requires us to collect new information and experience, interpret it holistically, and integrate it with our web of beliefs, it mirrors the function of healthy human cognition and intelligence.

For some readers, concern might arise about reconciling this approach with genuine confidence or especially religious faith. Can someone question and critically examine their beliefs in this way, while maintaining strong convictions? David Wolfe, who is a Christian, demonstrates that this sort of process is clearly at play in the words of Jesus, Paul and the writer of Deuteronomy.¹¹ But he also makes a more general point.

There is a chasm of difference between acknowledging that something is possibly false and doubting whether it is actually true. I can admit that I would know how to recognise if my wife did not love me, but I am extremely confident that she does. There are conditions under which I might believe that she did not really love me; but that gives me no pause in considering whether she really does. In fact, if there were no conditions which could persuade me otherwise, then I would have no way of knowing whether she really did!

Of course, in everyday life (unlike in science), it would be foolish to constantly analyse and criticise one’s beliefs; but the active commitments which we constantly make often position us well to recognise error. What better way to find out that a chair is faulty than by sitting in it? We need not constantly critique our beliefs; but, again, it is the confident person who is willing to be challenged and stretched.

At this point, we can also see that this framework illuminates the relationship between faith and reason. One way of defining faith is the active commitment (even in the face of our own finitude) to those beliefs which have been tested and found trustworthy by means of our reason. Therefore, the question is not whether a belief system involves faith (because they all do), but whether it survives testing. All enquiry requires “rationally responsible risks” and an “interplay of faith and reason”, whether our exploration is religious, philosophical, or more ordinary.¹²

For those seeking a worldview which provides certainty and eliminates risk, as I am often tempted to do, the verdict of the last few centuries is that you will not find one. If finite humans want warrant for our beliefs, we must be willing to begin with what we seem to know, seek to eliminate error, take reasonable rational risks, and entertain a firm hope of attaining truth.¹³

Finally, these observations enable us to say something useful about doubt. It can be hard for us to tell whether we are experiencing a genuine and troubling intellectual concern or ‘merely’ a more intangible experience of wavering or discomfort — spiritual, physical, moral, etc. In fact, since these aspects of our humanity constantly interact, I suspect there is often more than one at play.

But given our reflections up to this point, we can see that intellectual doubt occurs when I am suspicious that (1) there’s a problem with my web of beliefs; (2) a new observation is difficult to accommodate in my web; or (3) a rival web seems less problematic or more fruitful. If we suspect one of these (and if the topic is important), then our doubt may take real work to resolve, and we must be willing either to do that work or to accept the possibility of serious flaws in our worldview.

The Fun Part

If we are committed to this process of inhabiting and testing a set of beliefs, then why not pick the most attractive worldview you think might really be true? Perhaps you are, like I am, afraid of deluding yourself. But if we are open to genuinely testing our beliefs (and surely we all want to be), then we are much less likely to delude ourselves. If you pick an exciting, expansive worldview and find no reason to doubt it, then you’ve hit the jackpot.

If the pursuit of knowledge is an ongoing process of spreading our web of beliefs then testing and revising it, then life is (for everyone) an adventure of faith seeking understanding. We start by inhabiting a worldview, and over time we refine and strengthen it. We will need to reweave some corners of it, and we may even need to grit our teeth (do spiders have teeth?¹⁴) and chop off whole sections.

We need to start somewhere, so take your most strongly held beliefs. Statistically, these will probably be those of Christianity, Islam, or another major religion. But maybe they will be naturalistic, Platonic, or something more niche. There is nothing wrong with choosing beliefs which you want to hold and hope are strong (as long as they appear plausible to you).

As you absorb new experiences and questions, test your web for consistency and coherence, being open to revision or reinterpretation when it is required. Of course, this process will often be automatic and subconscious, as it should. But I hope this framework will help you to visualise what’s happening beneath the surface, and to produce a more robust and resilient worldview as a result. Regardless of your starting point, most of us agree that a lot rides on this, for you and for others.

1. The approach, and many of the ideas in this essay, are inspired by Epistemology: The Justification of Belief, by David L. Wolfe.

2. Hume was obsessed with questioning the solidity of our beliefs, and Descartes is notorious for overstating the certainty we can have in them.

3. If I understand correctly, there are “foundationalists” who don’t necessarily trade on absolute certainty, but do grant foundational status to something (for example, empirical observations). But, of course, it will still increase our confidence in such beliefs if we test them and find them resilient.

4. This framework comes from W.V.O. Quine, From a Logical Point of View, pp.42-44, which is cited in Wolfe’s book.

5. Wolfe, Epistemology, pp.52-53. Why these criteria in particular? Wolfe argues that here, like in general, we get our criteria from the nature of the project. If you want to make sense of the world, you need a web of beliefs which is consistent, coherent and comprehensive. If you reject these, that’s fine; you just won’t be able to make sense of the world. If someone thought their worldview made sense, but admitted that it had lots of inconsistencies and didn’t fit together well, then two things would be true: first, they would be a classic inhabitant of the modern West; and, second, they would be wrong (maybe indisputably wrong) in saying that their worldview made sense.

6. How do we evaluate experience accurately, given that we interpret it through our web of beliefs? Are we doomed to confirm our own biases? This is a fair concern, and I suspect it gives every theory of knowledge a lump in its throat. However, clearly we can change our beliefs and do all the time, even though we always interpret experience from our own perspective. It may take time and commitment, but this problem is a function of human nature and practice; it’s not a problem with a particular theory.

Given that we are bound to make decisions based on prior convictions, maybe it’s better to do so in a consistent way, so that when we notice flaws in our web, we can track what produced them?

7. Wolfe, Epistemology, p.51

8. This is almost a direct quote from Wolfe, Epistemology, p.58. In addition to the three criteria I have included, Wolfe adds congruity, by which he means that two interpretations might cover the same data, but one might clearly fit it better than the other. Anyone interested can find it on p.54.

9. This point was made quite powerfully to me in a conversation with John Dickson. You can read the resulting article here.

10. Iain McGilchrist is the big name here.

11. See Wolfe, Epistemology, pp.78-84. Paul even makes a case to the Corinthians based on a hypothetical situation in which Jesus has not been raised from the dead, in order to highlight the inconsistency of their beliefs and practices.

12. Wolfe, Epistemology, p.71

13. This is almost a direct quote from Wolfe, Epistemology, p.74

14. I need to be careful here. Last time some friends and I asked a question like this, it spawned a community of three thousand people which lasted several years.