Section 1.1: The Nature of Explanation

If we perceive explanation as a pragmatic approach to mastering our nonhuman surroundings, then the idea of a theory of everything appears absurdly arrogant, even bordering on the sinister. What sort of madness would lead an angel, as the myth goes, to rebel against God, fully aware of the futility of such an endeavor when God’s supremacy is indisputable?

When humanity believed the universe was limited to our solar system, discussions around the ultimate reasons for existence—such as why there is something rather than nothing—might have paralleled the straightforward inquiries about seasonal changes or the discomfort of hunger. One could merely posit a cause for an observed effect.

However, with the revelation that the universe is essentially limitless—vastly surpassing human comprehension and experience, teeming with countless stars and unknown territories—the distinction between mundane and profound questions diminishes, becoming almost disrespectful.

We tend to explain our immediate experiences as tools for personal advantage, while we also strive to comprehend distant realms and events. Scientific inquiry extends the boundaries of human knowledge through experimentation and mathematical modeling.

Yet, this pursuit poses no threat unless it devolves into arrogance, leading us to lose sight of our existential context.

Section 1.2: The Humanization of Nature

Consider explanation as a cognitive instrument, a means to grasp and understand phenomena. We engage our minds with our perceptions, weaving a neural web around them, familiarizing ourselves with our surroundings through intuition, analogies, logic, and trial-and-error methods. In doing so, we humanize our experiences, reflecting elements of ourselves in the process.

For example, we strive to bridge the chasm between our localized experiences and the unfathomable intensity of the Big Bang. Yet, this connection is fragile, demanding a leap of existential faith—or, perhaps, audacity—if we assume we've successfully crossed to the other side.

Indeed, while science approaches reality more closely than religion—by specializing in depersonalizing phenomena and mitigating our tendency to project biases onto the vast, unfamiliar expanse of the universe—theistic beliefs often rely on our basic, naive cognitive frameworks, envisioning the objective universe as a benevolent entity with whom we can interact.

Nonetheless, even within scientific circles, biases persist. Implicitly, we may regard “objects” in nature as mere resources, to be tamed and categorized through understanding. This process of neutralizing the wilderness through analysis, quantification, and theorization is far from an unbiased representation of nature. As philosopher Immanuel Kant noted, the idea of such a representation may be fundamentally contradictory.

As we extend our cognitive humanizations—drawing analogies from our earthly experiences and trusting logical deductions and hypothesis testing—we ought to cultivate greater humility regarding our findings.

The realization of the universe's enormity may have not only obliterated the primitive deities of naive theists but also obscured the possibility of adequately addressing our most profound inquiries.