I have changed my mind about enough important things over the years to learn something uncomfortable: changing your mind is rarely just a matter of changing your mind. We like to imagine ourselves as rational creatures who examine the evidence, weigh the arguments, and follow the facts wherever they lead. Sometimes we do. But anyone who has spent much time observing people—or himself—knows better. We approach reality with loyalties, fears, friendships, ambitions, habits, histories, reputations to protect, and people whose approval matters to us. Beneath all of that, we have hearts that worship.
Our paradigm is more than a collection of beliefs. It is the framework through which we interpret everything else. It tells us which facts matter, which questions are permissible, which conclusions are unthinkable, and which voices deserve to be heard. Most of the time, we do not even know we have one. We simply call it reality. Then facts begin appearing that do not fit. We dismiss them, explain them away, or make exceptions. Eventually, if we are fortunate—or perhaps if God is merciful—the exceptions begin piling up faster than our explanations. The old house starts creaking.
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