Consider

Debates are an essential part of our society. Listing arguments for and against subjects in a civilized manner in order to convince the other party is the healthiest way to find a midway between two opposing opinions. This method works particularly well when there is no objective answer to the matter at hand. For instance, it is meaningless to argue over whether a kilogram of feathers is heavier than a gram of steel. Such argument will not have a two-sided discussion and as a consequence, it will not benefit any party.

I love debates. I tend to debate just to be a nuisance sometimes, as I enjoy the train of ideas that result from them. I have recently discovered that Urban Dictionary defines the verb form of my name, berking, as "the act of arguing for the sake of arguing, or arguing to a point that is obviously false." Makes me wonder whether my fate was already decided over a score and two years ago.

It is no fun to write about those regular debates though. I am more interested in those which have zero possible conclusions. I enjoy debates significantly more when there is no way to measure the correctness of either side of the argument. So in this post, I would like to explore some of those forever-inconclusive discussions that I have been carrying on my mind for a while. I hope the stupid ideas also spread to yours.

My go-to example in this topic is the idea of Last Thursdayism. I'm not sure if I should call it a religion, but it states thus:

Under Last Thursdayism, books, fossils, light already on the way from distant stars, and everything (including your memories of the time before last Thursday) were all formed at the time of creation (last Thursday) in a state such that they appear much older.

At first it is easy to deny the argument as a whole since you still have clear memories of Gerald's birthday party last weekend. You were there and you recall making conscious decisions such as selecting your gift, driving your car, knocking the door, being a victim of social anxiety and spending the entire two hours drinking wine in the least crowded corner of Gerald's mansion, and having to call 112 after someone drank to the point of alcohol poisoning. How can the stress be so fresh if none of these ever happened in the first place?

Well, I am none the wiser. Reading the premise of Last Thursdayism awakens a serious doubt about my recent past. As much as I cannot bring concrete evidence that the universe was indeed created last Thursday, I also cannot prove otherwise. Who is to say that the so-called past is not an elaborate Mandela effect which collectively fell for? Since time flows in a singular direction (as far as we are aware), I cannot go back and bring something from last Wednesday. Then we can declare this debate inconclusive and move on... or can we?

It sounds like the argument is trying to shift the burden of proof. I am the one challenging the widely accepted view of "No, the universe goes way further back than last Thursday." Therefore I am the one to bring an evidence to the table. It is easier to explain what I mean with a more reasonable case.

As a more practical example, one should not have to prove their innocence until there is concrete evidence against. That is fair in the correct context. As we cannot blame a baby for not following the law, we can assume they are innocent by default. If one wants to prove that the same person guilty later in their life, it is essential to point out to the exact event where the assumption of innocence is no longer valid. After all, this is a debate with a clear answer and the person who makes the criminal claim should have a valid reason for it (unless it is a very niche ethical debate that decides whether the person is a criminal, but that would be outside of the scope of this post.)

I am failing to follow the same logic with Last Thursdayism. Yes, there are already widely accepted ideas on when the universe was created. One of these ideas is the Young Earth Creationism which is a tenet that the Earth is about 6000 years old. Many scientists believe that the age of the universe is instead about 13.8 billion years. In either case, the number is an estimate rather than a measurement. Any proof that can be given for the two views does not refute Last Thursdayism. Since we cannot go back and check the validity of either claim, neither of the claims is more valid than the idea that the universe is a couple of days old. And that's why the burden of proof is shared between both parties for this specific case.

Now that I have established my view on why certain arguments may spark endless and inconclusive debates, I would like to go do a haywire of a brainstorming session.

Given the limited nature of human perception, how do we know some certain items do not disappear when no one acknowledges their existence? No, I am not talking about some horror scenario like weeping angels. I am talking about something more structured, more sentient and more conspiracy-friendly. There may be a whole another world we do not even know of.

Consider this scenario: Our socks are sentient beings which only interact with the environment when nothing acknowledges their existence. They are in fact out interdimensional overlords that monitor our day-to-day lives to gather data. We are their lab rats. They have infiltrated our world long ago and are curious on the workings of our complex society. Their inhuman patience will allow them to strike in the perfect moment to enslave the entire human race.

Doesn't make sense? Hear me out: They cannot carry any metal objects with them as it would raise suspicion. One would see the devices they are using and their plan would be spoiled. They somehow need to report back to the mothership, so they created the propaganda that clothes should be cleaned in very particular electronic devices. They use the washing machines as a one-way portal to the mothership. They never come back.

Why do they come in pairs? Good question; nice to see some reader interaction in a static text-based blog. Well, this is a great tactic to blend in. Upon birth, socks are paired with their look-alikes so that they can recognize each other better during the mission. We have about two feet each, so we do not question why we have to buy two of them at once. Being two of them allows them to overcome loneliness and homesickness. It has the added benefit of collaboration when the task is difficult, as well as the decreased risk of disobedience and betrayal on the socks' side.

I can assure you that I am sober in these claims. I cannot prove this totally valid conspiracy, but neither can we find concrete against why socks could not be our overlords. Our knowledge of life is confined to the limits of our world and we do not know what life looks like beyond our atmosphere. Maybe these creatures evolved much further than us and freed themselves from the need of oxygen, food and water. We will never know.

I will conclude this trainwreck of thought with wise words from the famous philosopher Sockrates: "True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us."

Look at us being all curious after my tragic loss of a sock yesterday and my following attempt to come up with an excuse for it. That's the spirit!