Admittedly, there’s a fine line between skepticism and cynicism — one that’s easy to cross if you don’t watch where you step. Skeptics are accused of making the world a dull place by taking all of the magic and wonder out of everything. As the poet John Keats once said (back when Philosophy and Science were pretty much the same thing):

“Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings, conquer all mysteries by rule and line, empty the haunted air, and gnome mine unweave a rainbow.”

This criticism has been leveled both at me, personally, and has been leveled at the entire skeptical movement for quite some time. Most of the people I talk to about skepticism don’t understand why we have to go around raining on others’ parades. However, skepticism isn’t about parades or precipitation, but rather looking for the true beauty in the world around us, rather than settling apparent surface beauty. Great skeptics, like Carl Sagan, have pointed out that we need not divorce our sense of wonder from our skeptical mindset in order to further scientific inquiry and understanding¹:

“The size and age of the Cosmos are beyond ordinary human understanding. Lost somewhere between immensity and eternity is our tiny planetary home. In a cosmic perspective, most human concerns seem insignificant, even petty. And yet our species is young and curious and brave and shows much promise. In the last few millennia we have made the most astonishing and unexpected discoveries about the Cosmos and our place within it, explorations that are exhilarating to consider. They remind us that humans have evolved to wonder, that understanding is a joy, that knowledge is prerequisite to survival. I believe our future depends on how well we know this Cosmos in which we float like a mote of dust in the morning sky.”²

Science has shown us that we can find more beauty through unweaving the rainbow then we could ever have hoped to find just by looking at, and being content with, the pretty colors in the sky. But there is another concern that is often raised about skepticism. Few people argue that logic and rationality lack a place in our understanding of the world, but some feel that skepticism fails to account for the magic and mystery of fantasy and fiction. Good stories are often capable of reaching people in ways that good logic and scientific inquiry often can’t, and appeals to emotion are able to evoke responses much stronger than can be generated through logic and reason.

To begin, it’s important to note that skepticism is not an attack on fiction. Like most people, I recognize the value of a good story, and would never give up my Science Fiction. The difference is that when I read a book, or a fantastic story, no matter how believable the author makes it, I can still distinguish between reality and fantasy. I don’t actually believe that in some far-off galaxy, a galactic empire is at war with a group of rebels lead by the remnants of a Jedi order.

My problem doesn’t lie with fictional or fantastic stories, but rather the people who believe them to be the truth. I wouldn’t even care if people chose to hold these beliefs personally; however, it’s rarely the case that a set of personal beliefs fail to manifest themselves in public ways. Humans tend to live and work together in closely-knit social spheres, and chances are that, sooner or later, privately held beliefs will find a way out into the public sphere. To a certain degree, there is nothing wrong with this, but once these beliefs start taking the form of religion-based public policy, and superstition-based public medicine, then these beliefs start to become a public issue, rather than a private one. It is often the case that other people privately held religious or superstitious beliefs come to affect the way I live, and the laws that I have to follow. It is for this reason that it is so important for everybody to be able to be able to think critically, and be able to distinguish reality from fiction.

But there’s often a positive side to these beliefs. Religion, you could say, has motivated millions of people to do good things. “Who cares if the beliefs are irrational”, you might say, “as long as they result in a positive outcome.” A lot of religion teaches morality, charity, and a whole boat-load of other good things, but that does not make the beliefs themselves good. The problem does not lie with what religion teaches, but rather how it teaches. An appeal to emotion can often motivate people to be kinder, or more charitable, but it can also have the opposite effect. It can motivate people to carry out unspeakable acts of hatred or violence without thinking them through. Ultimately, faith and emotion are great at provoking radical responses – both good and bad. If we are to see these results as desirable, we must accept all of the bad consequences along with the good. I’d much prefer to live in a world which lacks either end of the radical spectrum. Good and bad people would still exist, but without an emotional cause to rally around, moderation would prevail³. Emotional appeals might yield quick results in the short term, but they are lazy, and ultimately do more harm than good.

And that’s why I’m a skeptic. I’m not cynical – I don’t believe that people are fundamentally bad, or beyond saving. I believe in humanity’s ability to think and reason. We’ve managed to barely elevate ourselves above our environments through these faculties, and so far, I like what we’ve found. I only hope that we never cease to yearn to understand the world. Since I could never hope to improve upon what has already been said on this topic, I will leave you with another quote from Carl Sagan:

“The choice is with us still, but the civilization now in jeopardy is all humanity. As the ancient myth makers knew, we are children equally of the earth and the sky. In our tenure of this planet we’ve accumulated dangerous evolutionary baggage — propensities for aggression and ritual, submission to leaders, hostility to outsiders — all of which puts our survival in some doubt. But we’ve also acquired compassion for others, love for our children and desire to learn from history and experience, and a great soaring passionate intelligence — the clear tools for our continued survival and prosperity. Which aspects of our nature will prevail is uncertain, particularly when our visions and prospects are bound to one small part of the small planet Earth. But up there in the immensity of the Cosmos, an inescapable perspective awaits us. There are not yet any obvious signs of extraterrestrial intelligence and this makes us wonder whether civilizations like ours always rush implacably, headlong, toward self-destruction. National boundaries are not evident when we view the Earth from space. Fanatical ethnic or religious or national chauvinisms are a little difficult to maintain when we see our planet as a fragile blue crescent fading to become an inconspicuous point of light against the bastion and citadel of the stars. Travel is broadening.”