In a solar system of the Andromeda galaxy, there was a planet Evercloudy where intelligent life existed. But the planet was very different from Earth. The planet was constantly covered with thick clouds. The clouds in the planet's atmosphere were so numerous that almost never could the planet's sun be seen.
The scientists on this planet pondered two great questions:
(1) What causes daylight on planet Evercloudy?
(2) How is it that planet Evercloudy stays warm enough for life to exist?
Having no knowledge of their sun, the scientists came up with wrong answers. They speculated that daylight and planetary warmth are bottom-up effects. The scientists began to spin all kinds of speculations such as hypothesizing that daylight comes from photon emissions from rocks and dirt, and that their planet was warm because of heat bubbling up from the hot center of their planet.
One day one of the scientists had a dinner with his son, who had not long ago become an adult.
"We are making great progress in explaining how our planet is warm and lighted," said the father, boasting without warrant. "Only last week one of my colleagues published a paper speculating how there might be certain types of chemical reactions within rocks and soil, causing the emission of tiny particles of light that might lead to daylight, particles we call photons."
"Ah yes, another theory of photon-emitting rocks and light coming from soil," said the son. "How creative you professors are. But, tell me, how do you account for the reality of nightfall? If rocks and soil constantly sent out little particles of light called photons, would we not expect that there would never be nightfall?"
"I admit that the phenomenon of nightfall is challenging for bottom-up theories of the origin of our planet's light and heat," conceded the father. "But we are working on that problem. Someday we will solve it. We already have interesting theories of how there might be 'easily tired photons' that rest during the night, and wake up during the daytime."
"Can't you see that there's a much more straightforward way to explain nightfall?" said the son. "You can abandon your theory of a bottom-up origin of light and heat. You can move to an alternate theory that light and heat on our planet mainly comes from an unseen external source outside of our planet -- something called 'the sun.' If such a sun existed, and our planet rotates, that would easily explain nightfall. Nightfall would simply occur to a side of our planet that was facing away from the sun."
"Oh, come on!" said the father. "Don't tell me you are warming up to those nonsense claims about the existence of a sun! You are just starting to study at the university. You know what the consensus of the professors is. It is that heat and light come bottom-up, not top-down. Read your science books. They all say that daylight comes from rocks and soil."
"Yes, I know the social conventions that professors like you follow," said the son. "You and your colleagues have made it taboo to believe in the sun. But does it make sense to declare something is taboo, when it has often been observed?"
"What are you talking about?" asked the father.
"Have you not heard?" said the son. "There are now meetings of believers in the existence of the sun. They meet outdoors in meetings they call 'see-ances.' At such meetings they look up at the sky. They gather together in a circle, with each person looking at a different direction. Sometimes the people at such meetings report they were able to see the sun in the sky, when the clouds briefly parted."
"Don't believe in that kind of nonsense!" said the father. "You can't trust those so-called 'sun-seers.' They are just a bunch a kooks and crazies or scoundrels who are lying or hallucinating."
"Have you studied the many reports they have written, in which multiple named witnesses said they saw the sun?" asked the son.
"You mean the reports made in those 'sun-seer' periodicals?" asked the father. "Surely you don't expect a respectable scientist like me to read such rags."
"So when teaching your classes and writing, you don't even mention that many claim to have seen the sun?"
"Of course," said the father. "A rule of respectable professors like me is: nothing spooky allowed."
"But what about those photos they sometimes take that seem to show a sun in the sky?" asked the son.
"Oh, come on, don't tell me that you're starting to believe in those claims of 'sun photography,' " said the father. "All those photos are just fakes."
"Father, this is very hard to do, but I think it is at last time that I finally 'came out of the closet,' " said the son. "I must confess that I have gone to some of these 'see-ances' and that I believe I have actually seen the sun with my own eyes. I had to stare up at the sky for a long time, before the clouds finally started to part. And then I kind of half-saw it, for a fleeing instant, what looked rather like a bright yellow ball in the sky. I think it was the sun I saw."
"Good heavens!" said the father, grimacing and putting his hands on top of his head. "Don't tell me that my own son has become one of those loony types that call themselves 'sun-seers!' How will I live through the embarrassment and the stigma of being the father of a 'sun-seer' ? My colleagues at the university will ridicule me endlessly!"
"Sorry for the inconvenience," said the son. "But I have to follow the path plowed by what I saw, not some old path plowed by social conventions."
The son went outdoors for some fresh air, and the father followed.
"Don't you understand our rules?" said the father. "A rule of scientists like me is: explanations must always be bottom-up, not top-down. And you can only say that a causal effect came from some cause you have seen yourself."
"Nature never taught us such rules," said the son. "Those rules are just social conventions, not something demanded by logic or evidence. And you don't even follow such rules, because you never saw some of the things you believe in, things like photons sleeping at night."
"I didn't make your mistake when I was young," said the father. "When I started at the university, they taught me that our planet's light and heat come from the rocks and soil below us, not from any sun above us; and I have never taught otherwise."
"But did you arrive at that belief through an objective study of all the evidence, by pondering impartially all the relevant arguments and observations of both sides?" asked the son. "I doubt it. You probably soon learned that a particular belief would be expected of you. So you went along with that belief, and became an asolarist, a non-believer in the sun."
"Well," said the father, "it was made pretty clear that my university was not a friendly port for solarists who believe in a sun."
The son looked up at the sky, and was surprised to see a very rare event, as rare on his planet as a tornado. The clouds were briefly parting. It was a much more dramatic parting of the clouds than the son had seen before.
"Look!" said the son. "The clouds are parting! There it is, I can see it in that hole in the clouds! Look, father, look! It is a bright and yellow ball! IT IS THE SUN!"
"A respectable professor like me cannot ever get involved with this type of nonsense," said the scorning father, being careful not to look up at the sky. "I'm going back inside our house."
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