successes in prediction and application, the scientific worldview has become largely
dominant in our modern age. Yet, it is still being actively challenged by various
incarnations of the mythical-religious worldview, including Creationism,
fundamentalist Islam, and New Age thinking.
Given the overwhelming amount of evidence for the scientific way of
thinking, it may seem strange that its dominant position remains so precarious, and
that the mythical-religious way of thinking remains so popular. In the present paper, I
wish to explore the hypothesis that this is due not so much to the concrete content of
the science, but to its form, that is, the way it is presented. Scientific knowledge is
typically expressed in the form of laws, i.e. absolute, timeless rules that govern the
behavior of all entities, thus allowing us to predict exactly what will happen to those
entities in any circumstances. Mythical-religious knowledge, on the other hand, is
typically expressed in the form of stories, which relate a sequence of events that
happened to one or more protagonists. We immediately note three fundamental
differences between these modes of knowledge (which Bruner [1986] calls
“paradigmatic”, respectively “narrative”): 1) stories follow the arrow of time, while
laws are normally time-independent; 2) stories take place in a concrete, local context
centered on one or more subjects, while laws attempt to be universally and objectively
valid; 3) a good story always includes an element of mystery, suspense or surprise, i.e.
uncertainty about the outcome, while laws try to maximally exclude uncertainty.
Science tries to minimize the impact of time, context, subject and uncertainty
[Heylighen, 1999] because these reduce our powers of prediction, and therefore of
control: theories that only work sometimes, at a particular time and place, and for a
particular subject, are much less useful than theories that are accurate always and
everywhere. This strength of scientific theories is also the weakness of mythical-
religious narratives: while a story relating the trials and tribulations of a particular
hero, god, or prophet may be inspiring, it is not clear what lessons to draw from it for
another person living in a different context and epoch. This explains the proliferation
of multiple, mutually contradictory interpretations of the same scripture.
But a story has another great advantage: it is psychologically much more
compelling than a formal theory [Oatley, 1999a]. Empirical research has shown that
information presented in the form of a story is assimilated more easily, has a greater
emotional impact and motivational power, and is better remembered than the same
information presented in a more abstract, context-independent manner [Heath &
Heath, 2007]. This can be understood from the observation that evolution has shaped
our brain as a tool to remember and draw lessons from personal experiences—not
from abstract theories. Indeed, one of the most advanced mechanisms in the brain is
episodic memory [Tulving, 2002], which functions to register “episodes”, i.e.
sequences of experienced events. We might say that stories have been shaped to
directly enter episodic memory. When you listen to a good story you tend to
empathize with the main characters, to imagine yourself to be in their place, and thus
to relive their experiences inside your mind [Heath & Heath, 2007; Oatley, 1999a].
Because of this effect, educators and popularizers of science have learned long ago