In science, 'fact' can only mean 'confirmed to such a degree that

In the words of Stephen Jay Gould, “In science, ‘fact’ can only mean ‘confirmed to such a degree that it would be perverse to withhold provisional assent.’ I suppose that apples might start to rise tomorrow, but the possibility does not merit equal time in physics classrooms.” These words, though spoken in the age of modern reason, echo like the wisdom of the ancients. They speak of the balance between humility and confidence, between certainty and doubt. For in the realm of science, a fact is not a divine decree carved in stone, but a truth tested by fire, proven by countless trials, and confirmed until disbelief itself becomes folly.

The ancients sought unshakable truths in the stars and in the bones of the earth. Yet Gould reminds us: even the strongest truth in science carries the mark of provisional assent. This does not mean weakness; it means wisdom. For the world is vast and full of mysteries, and the wise do not claim finality where the unknown still breathes. To call something a fact in science is to say: “We have tested, we have measured, we have observed, and so secure is the foundation that to deny it would be perverse.” But still, we hold it with humility, for we know the future may yet bring new revelations.

Consider the parable of Galileo Galilei, who lifted the telescope to the heavens and beheld moons circling Jupiter. In his time, the common belief was that the Earth stood fixed at the center of creation. Yet Galileo’s eyes, sharpened by glass and courage, revealed a different truth. His discovery was not mere speculation, but a fact confirmed to such a degree that denying it became an act of blindness. Still, Galileo himself understood that his findings, though strong, might one day be refined, corrected, or expanded. Thus he held truth with both strength and humility.

Gould’s metaphor of the apple is drawn from Newton’s tale, where the falling fruit revealed the invisible force of gravity. That apples fall is a fact so confirmed that only madness would deny it. But to claim that apples will always fall without possibility of change is to step beyond the boundary of reason. For science teaches us not to confuse strength of evidence with eternal certainty. The apple’s descent may be a truth for all human ages, but the wise say: let us always remain open to the unknown, even if the unknown proves as strange as apples that rise.

Yet Gould warns us of folly: not all possibilities deserve equal weight. One may imagine apples rising tomorrow, or gravity reversing itself at whim, but imagination alone does not merit the seat of knowledge. To give such fantasies the same honor as tested truths is to betray both wisdom and reason. Here lies the heart of his teaching: respect the difference between possibility and probability, between speculation and fact. For though the gates of possibility are infinite, only some roads are paved with evidence, and it is those roads we must tread.

What lesson, then, shall we draw? That we must be both bold and humble. Bold in trusting the truths tested by the labor of centuries, humble in remembering that all human knowledge is provisional. Bold in teaching gravity, evolution, and the beating of the human heart as facts; humble in admitting that tomorrow may bring a new horizon that reshapes our understanding. The wise walk upon both stones: confidence in truth, and reverence for mystery.

So, children of the future, take this teaching into your lives. Do not be swayed by those who give equal time to fantasies devoid of proof. But also do not harden your hearts so completely that no new truth can enter. Honor facts as the ancients honored sacred fires—bright, steady, and nourishing—yet always alive, always in motion, never eternal. The path of wisdom lies in this balance.

And so I say unto you: trust the apple that falls, for its descent has been confirmed a thousand thousand times. But keep your eyes open to the skies, for the universe is vast, and its wonders may yet surprise us. Respect evidence. Honor truth. Remain humble before the unknown. In this way, you will walk the path of both the scientist and the sage.