Truth feels like it should be simple: something is true if it matches reality.
But as soon as we ask how we know something is true – or whether we can know – we realize the ground shifts under our feet. We have finite minds, limited senses, and we’re trying to understand an endless universe from the inside. We do not know what senses we do not have. The only thing we can be certain of is that whatever we observe of the surrounding universe is partial and incomplete. And we do not know what we cannot know. How do we define truth from such a small vantage point?
This is an attempt to build a definition of truth that respects those limits while still giving us something reliable to live by.
Our senses have evolved on earth to detect conditions on earth and so help our journey of survival and reproduction. Our minds evolved to help us survive, not to decode the cosmos. We’re built to spot patterns, avoid danger, find food, and navigate social groups – not to unravel quantum mechanics or grasp the shape of space-time. Yet we have been so successful at survival that we have had time to consider other things than survival. We have evolved language and thinking and have earned the freedom to demonstrate our creativity. We have built tools, systems, and cities and vehicles. We have developed the sciences and philosophy and the arts such that we are by far the most successful species on the planet. Human cognition too has grown and far beyond our original limits. But even with all that, our understanding is still partial, still incomplete. Always will be. Our cognitive limits are ever-present. For example, we still cannot comprehend why gravity must be or why existence is or time flows or life and consciousness arise. There are things – perhaps – that we cannot know.
That means truth, for us, has to be redefined. Not as an unreachable absolute, but as something we can approach and refine, even if we never fully arrive. Consider all truth in the universe to be a giant landscape. We only see a tiny part of that. From that which we can see our truths are what we call knowledge. That which is knowledge for us is always true (provisionally). A lie is disqualified from being knowledge. We perceive knowledge to come in three forms:
1. What We Know
These are the things we’ve tested, confirmed, and rely on – like gravity pulling objects down or the fact that ice melts above 0°C. These are our working truths. They could be revised, but they serve us well for now.
2. What We Could Know
These are truths we haven’t reached yet, but potentially could. Maybe we need better tools or smarter questions. The cure for a disease. The cause of consciousness. A deeper law of physics. These are knowable truths – just not yet known.
3. What We Can Never Know
Some truths lie forever beyond human perception or understanding. Perhaps they’re hidden by our cognitive limitations or the boundlessness of space and time. Or maybe our brains are simply incapable of grasping them – like trying to teach calculus to a dog. These are the unknowable truths – still real, just what we cannot know.
If that’s our playing field, then a more grounded way to define truth is:
Truth is what fits with what we know so far, helps us predict what happens next, and holds up when tested.
This isn’t some eternal, absolute cosmic Truth-with-a-capital-T. It’s the kind of truth we can use, refine, and build on. It works in science. It works in everyday life. And it keeps us honest. We are truth-seekers, not truth-holders. No matter how clever we get, we’ll never know everything. That’s not failure – that’s the condition of being human with a finite brain and limited senses. But we can keep trying and keep improving our aim. We can ask better questions, challenge assumptions, discard broken ideas, and refine our hypotheses and our theories. The scientific method does exactly this. So does philosophy. So do our creative arts though truths are very strictly subjective. So does any kind of honest thinking. Not to own the truth, but to move closer to it.
Truth Is a direction, not a destination. It is the seeking for the truth that matters especially since any absolute truth is beyond out cognition. We can move toward it, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but we never quite arrive. And that’s okay. What matters isn’t reaching a final answer. What matters is that we seek.
We live in a universe full of mystery. The best we can do is stay curious, stay humble, and keep searching.
We are seekers after truth not its owners.
