Illustration for ‘The Unknowable Truth Epistemic Contract.’

Front Porch · Jun 24, 2025 · by Shawn Vincent

The Unknowable Truth Epistemic Contract

Personal ego-driven pseudo-philosophy with good intentions.

The Unknowable Truth explores our chaotic, information-choked postmodern world and confronts the challenge of making consequential decisions when we’re not always sure what to believe. It’s practically impossible for us to know the pure, unadulterated truth about anything, so even our deepest beliefs wear a shroud of uncertainty. But when we understand that we make all of our decisions with incomplete information, we stop waiting for perfection—and we gain the courage to navigate the unknown with alacrity.

In my exploration of The Unknowable Truth, I try not to write with too much AUTHORITY (although I am the author). I’m just a student who has been thinking about this for 30 years, and The Unknowable Truth is my effort to think about it “out loud” by silently writing about it. I’ll make some mistakes, demonstrate some cognitive dissonance, write some ego-driven drivel, and every once in a while, strike upon a good idea that resonates.

Because I believe the truth is unknowable, it’s disingenuous to pretend that anything I write here is correct. Just the same, I’d like to enter an Epistemic Contract with you that represents the following: I’m trying hard to get it right. I read a lot about this stuff. My conjectures are informed largely by my personal experiences. I am not a trained philosopher and have no interest in becoming one. And I’m open to being wrong about any of this (just ask Sean Byrnes).

An Epistemic Contract, by the way, is an agreement, often implicit, with an audience about what constitutes “truth” and “knowledge.” My church has a different Epistemic Contract with its parishioners than a politician has with her constituents, for example. The Daily Show has a different Epistemic Contract with its audience than the CBS Evening News has with its viewers. The word “epistemic,” according to Oxford Languages, is from the Greek word “episteme,” meaning “knowledge.” So “epistemic” means “relating to knowledge or to the degree of its validation.”

Validation is key. Before we make consequential decisions, we like to know that we’re basing our choices on valid information. And valid is different than correct, which is different from verified, authentic, genuine, confirmed, accurate, or precise.

You’ll learn as you read The Unknowable Truth that I believe most of the information we encounter is not designed to convey a truth, but rather to produce a result. One of the tricks I use to decide whether I believe a particular message is to assess the motives of the source. For example, when a stranger approaches me at a gas pump and asks, “Can I ask you a question?” I know what they really mean is “Give me some money.”

With that in mind, as part of my Epistemic Contract with you, I figured I’d be honest about my motives: I want to have engagement with interesting people about these ideas. I enjoy writing, and I like it more when I know someone is reading it, and if I get a little feedback. I’ve always wanted to write a book, and these essays constitute a rough draft. I know I’ll sell more books if I can build an audience. I also genuinely want to help people become better consumers of information and make better choices. Finally, I like it when people think I’m smart and interesting.

I reserve the right to change any of this at any time.


I say it is “practically impossible for us to know the pure, unadulterated truth” because I don’t know for sure that it is impossible. I’ve never done it. Maybe, when we are asleep or doing some advanced math, we can get there, but usually our noisy little brains get in the way. I think.

“Episteme” is properly spelled with some accent marks, but I’m not bothering with all of that.

I’ve offered you a link to independently validate the definition of “epistemic,” but I’ve not provided a source for the term “Epistemic Contract,” so it is unvalidated, but not necessarily invalid. I’ll need you guys to work with me a little if you’re coming along for the ride.

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