It is very hard for a man to defend anything of which he is entirely convinced. It is comparatively easy when he is only partially convinced. He is partially convinced because he has found this or that proof of the thing, and he can expound it. But a man is not really convinced of a philosophic theory when finds that something proves it. He is only really convinced when he finds that everything proves it. And the more converging reasons he finds pointing to this conviction, the more bewildered he is if asked suddenly to sum them up. Thus, if one asked an ordinarily intelligent man, on the spur of the moment, “Why do you prefer civilization to savagery?” he would look wildly round at object after object, and would only be able to answer vaguely, “Why, there is that bookcase…and the coals in the coal-scuttle…and pianos…and policemen.” The whole case for civilization is that the case for it is complex. It has done so many things. But that very multiplicity of proof which ought to make reply overwhelming makes reply impossible.
–G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (p. 75)
NOTE: I love this quotation and can greatly relate to its sentiment. So many trajectories are set by first principles, by foundational assumptions, that to try to discuss the details without addressing the core is often an exercise in futility. If two people get in a disagreement, one who prefers civilization and one who prefers savagery, it does no good for the civilized man to point to the bookcase over and over. The ubiquity and obviousness of his belief makes it far more difficult for him to articulate and convince others.
Chesterton’s observation also proves illuminating for many contemporary political and theological debates. It also helps us to see the impossibility, from a human perspective, of evangelism. In one sense, the Christian finds himself to be a fish in the strange position of convincing his fellow that they are, in fact, in water. If the other fellow is convinced otherwise, what could you possibly say to him?
