Fact, Belief . . . and the Shape of the World

by Thomas M. Pender

“I don’t believe you.”

This phrase used to bother me quite a bit as a youth.  When a friend or family member would say this following a statement of mine, I took it personally.  It seemed to be a declaration of mistrust, which was a bit painful.

As I matured, however, this phrase began to amuse me.  If I told a friend that the capital of California was Sacramento, and they claimed they didn’t believe me, that just . . . made them wrong and me right.  I decided to let them disbelieve, and upon further investigation, they would simply learn who was correct and who owed me an apology.

Of course, I’ve been wrong before, too.  A few embarrassments in my youth taught me to state when I knew something to be true, and when to start sentences with “I think” or “I believe.”  Having this practice covered, whenever I would state something as fact, and someone would disbelieve, I found an odd humor in the situation.  I began to respond to the nonbelievers accordingly.

“The capital of California is Sacramento.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, people didn’t believe the world was round, either, but that didn’t make the world any flatter, now, did it?”

Sometimes, I could even get my factual combatants to laugh with this line.  Still, the point was made.  Whether or not someone believes the world is round, shadows on and photographs from the moon prove that it is.  (Also, there are no documented cases of anyone falling off the planet.)  This simply makes nonbelievers humorous.  Likewise, if a fact is stated and someone doesn’t believe it, they also become humorous.

Once, a co-worker called my desk to ask how to spell a word.  I had become a bit of a corporate spelling help desk at the time.  She asked and I promptly responded.  I knew how to spell the word.  I didn’t hesitate, nor did I begin with “I’m not sure, but I think it’s spelled . . .,” I just spelled it for her.  Still, she said, “That doesn’t look right.”  I assured her it was.  She insisted I bring her a dictionary.  I took it to her and stood there while she looked it up.  She was shocked when it was proven that the “odd-looking” word was spelled correctly.  Here again, believing or disbelieving in a fact doesn’t change the fact itself.

Another good example is the existence of God.  It’s simple: either there is God or there isn’t.  There’s no gray area here.  So for simplicity, let’s pretend that 50% of the world’s inhabitants believe in God, and 50% do not.  The fact remains that said existence does not change with belief.  Half the world’s beliefs would be right and half wrong, that’s all.  This realization led me to invent an old saying: “Truth is truth.  Belief is just what gets us through the night.”

So, learning the difference between fact and belief, and stating each one carefully and clearly, I gleefully repeat my line about the shape of the world whenever I’m faced with a trivial infidel.  I believe Magellan would be proud of me.