How do you know what you know?

“There should be no people who have a higher desire to obtain truth, revealed and secular, than Latter-day Saints.” (Spencer W. Kimball, Ensign,Sept.1983)

What does it mean to know?

The question has never been trivial, but in the 21st century, a time in which there is so much to know, quantitatively speaking, we seem all to willing to accept rather simplistic answers to the question--or, perhaps even worse--we fail to reflect on the question at all. The answer many seem to accept--if they even bother to ask the question--is a sort of  hybrid approach to the central epistemological debate dating back to Plato and Aristotle, between empiricism and rationalism. Citizens of the 21st century, generally speaking, feel they "know" something if they can perceive it with their senses, or if it can be explained through logic and rational principles. Such an approach to knowledge started to become popular in early modern Europe during the Scientific Revolution, and was codified in the scientific method--a method now considered to be the gold-standard for knowledge seeking in most disciplines. The scientific method is indeed a remarkable tool that has given us a much deeper and richer understanding of the natural world than humanity has enjoyed in perhaps any previous era. However, as the adage goes, to a man with a hammer, every problem appears to be a nail. Is it possible that over the last few centuries, we have become so enamored with the scientific method that we have forgotten to critique the method itself? Certainly not to the end of discarding it as a method--but perhaps simply to ensure that we are not using a hammer when perhaps a screwdriver or pliers would better serve us. This of course ignores the post-modern critique of the scientific method, but I find that a train of thought that leads me away from the possibility of ever having any kind of knowledge is neither useful nor intellectually satisfying.

I would like to here suggest that knowledge comes in categories--not a new suggestion; both philosophers and theologians have categorized types and degrees of knowledge for centuries. However, for my purposes, I'd like to suggest just two categories: propositional knowledge, and relational-experiential knowledge.

Propositional Knowledge
Based upon Plato's classical definition of knowledge, this is a justified true belief--justified either by what we observe with our senses, what makes sense to us rationally, or (usually) a combination of both. I call it propositional because the object of such knowledge is easily clothed in language and framed as a proposition:
The sum of two and two is four.
The earth revolves around the sun.
Two parts hydrogen combined with one part oxygen yields water. 
These propositions, little "packets" of knowledge, are based on empirical observation combined with logic, thus lending themselves quite well to evaluation by means of the scientific method. They can be measured and demonstrated through empirical and/or rational phenomenon, and we can with some degree of confidence say that we know they are factual statements.

Relational-Experiental Knowledge
This type of knowledge is inherently more difficult to describe because by its nature, it does not fit within the confines of language. This is the kind of knowledge that arises out of experience, most often in relationship with other intelligent beings. Skills might fall into this category--such as riding a bicycle or playing a musical instrument: one need not be able to explain the principles of anatomy, physiology, and physics at play in order to assert that he or she "knows" how to perform such tasks. However, I am really talking about the sort of knowledge that arises over time out of our relationships with others--knowledge of the love we have for a friend, a family member, a spouse, and knowledge of the love they have for us. While we might try to identify empirical evidence of this love, any such evidence could be explained some other way, and will always fall short of capturing the essence of the relationship. It is a difficult sort of knowledge to encapsulate in words, but I don't know that this makes it any less real; sometimes that which we cannot put into words seems even more real, unfettered by the limited and sometimes misleading confines of language.

I submit that when we speak of "knowledge" in relationship to the spiritual and the divine, what we speak of is much closer to this second category of knowledge than the first. When, in His intercessory prayer, the Savior stated that "this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent," (John 17:3), he was speaking not simply of a propositional understanding of God's existence, but of a relationship in which we come to know our Eternal Father as we are known of Him.

Nephi, an ancient prophet whose writings we find in The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ, taught that "when a man ^bspeaketh by the power of the Holy Ghost the power of the Holy Ghost carrieth it unto the hearts of the children of men."(2 Nephi 33:1) The words of the spiritual teacher cannot penetrate the hearts of men and women on their own, because language is not a sufficient medium for the imparting of spiritual knowledge--like relational-experiential knowledge, it cannot be clothed in mortal language, but must be conveyed through spiritual media. 


I do not write this to condemn science, or the pursuit of rational or empirical knowledge--in the proper context, these are essential to our growth as individuals and as a society. I simply suggest that we open our minds not only to a variety of types of knowledge, but also to a variety of methods for gaining and evaluating knowledge. When approaching questions about the natural world, I am content (for now) with the scientific method; when approaching questions regarding my own identity, my own essence, what it means to be a human being, the purpose of my existence, and the path that will lead to the greatest happiness, I find the scientific method insufficient, but that does not mean I cannot claim knowledge in the face of these questions--it simply means I must apply to some other system of epistemology for answers to such questions.