if you think testimony isn’t evidence, then you’re not just wrong—
— Sam26

It's not that "testimony isn't evidence", it's that "testimony" is mostly unreliable just like introspection. Such subjective accounts of extraordinary claims absent extraordinary evidence (or at least objective corroboration) are neither credible nor compelling to most nongullible, secular thinkers who have not had an alleged "NDE" themselves. In fact, it's dogmatic of you, Sam, to believe "testimony of NDE" is sufficient evidence for believing NDEs happen or that they prove "consciousness survives brain death" (re: afterlife). — 180 Proof

Look, your dismissal of testimonial evidence as "mostly unreliable" is not just misguided; it is intellectually bankrupt, ignoring how testimony powers real-world knowledge acquisition every single day. You are clinging to this idea like it is some profound insight, but it is a fallacy of composition that ignores how we evaluate testimony in epistemology. Sure, some testimony is weak, but when evaluated properly, it is the gold standard for solving mysteries, establishing facts, and yes, building knowledge about phenomena like NDEs. Take detectives and courts, they rely on corroborated testimony constantly to crack cases and deliver justice, turning "subjective accounts" into ironclad evidence. A murder investigation starts with witness statements (testimony), cross-checked against alibis, forensics, and multiple sources. If three independent witnesses describe the same suspect fleeing the scene, and their details match CCTV or physical evidence, that is corroborated testimony leading to a conviction. Courts do not demand "extraordinary evidence" beyond a reasonable doubt; they use the same criteria I apply: volume, diversity, consistency, corroboration, and reliability. Why? Because it works. We convict people and send them to prison for life based on this, yet you wave it away for NDEs because it challenges your worldview? That is not skepticism, that is hypocrisy.

Testimony is fundamental to our daily lives, forming the bedrock of most knowledge we hold without personal verification. Consider what you "know" solely through others' reports: your exact birth time and place (from parents or records), the existence of distant places like Antarctica or historical events like the moon landing (from explorers, historians, and scientists), scientific facts like DNA's structure (from researchers' accounts), or even current events like election results (from journalists and witnesses). We trust testimony from doctors about our health, mechanics about our cars, and teachers about basic education, and without it, we'd be limited to our own narrow sensory experiences, unable to function in society. If we doubted most testimony as "unreliable" without applying consistent criteria, our entire framework of knowledge would crumble: history would vanish, science would stall, courts would fail, and everyday decisions would grind to a halt in paranoia. This reliance isn't naive; it's rational when testimony meets standards of volume, diversity, consistency, corroboration, and reliability, but selective doubt applied only to challenging claims reveals bias, not wisdom.

Apply that to NDEs, and your position crumbles. Even downplaying global estimates to account for potential data issues, like overreporting or cultural variations, we are still looking at 50-100 million experiencers worldwide, based on conservative figures from sources like IANDS and similar 2025 studies. That is not "extraordinary" or rare; it is common, on par with conditions like diabetes or left-handedness. With modern resuscitation pulling back millions from clinical death annually, these reports are as routine as traffic accidents. And among them, thousands are corroborated just like detective work: veridical details verified by medical records, staff testimony, or family confirmations. Pam Reynolds' case? Like a detective piecing together a timeline, her description of surgical tools and conversations during no-brain-activity standstill was corroborated by the operating team, ruling out hallucination. Eben Alexander? His coma visions included facts impossible under brain shutdown, verified post-recovery. Studies like Janice Holden's review of 89 OBE cases show high corroboration rates, mirroring how courts build cases from multiple witnesses.

Your argument is self-sealing in the classic sense of a position that protects itself from any possible refutation by design, much like a conspiracy theory that labels all contrary evidence as part of the cover-up. By preemptively deeming testimony unreliable and insisting on extraordinary evidence that must fit your narrow scientistic criteria, you create a closed loop where no amount of corroborated reports, no matter how voluminous or verified, can ever count as valid, simply because they challenge your assumption that consciousness is strictly brain-bound. This is not an open inquiry; it is a rhetorical fortress that dismisses millions of consistent accounts without examination, ensuring your worldview remains unchallenged regardless of the facts.

This testimonial powerhouse, high volume (50-100 million, which is a low estimate), diverse sources (atheists to kids), consistent patterns (75-85% OBEs, 70-80% life reviews), objective hits (thousands verified), and firsthand credibility, fuels my inductive argument from Chapter 3 of my book. Accumulate the evidence like a prosecutor: veridical perceptions during flat EEGs, cross-cultural uniformity, and child reports defying bias. The inference? Consciousness survives brain death with objective certainty, justified true belief via probabilistic strength. Detectives do not need lab recreations of crimes; they use testimony to know what happened. Same here. Your "unreliable like introspection" trope? Laughable, introspection cannot be corroborated like NDE reports are.

If testimony solves crimes and upholds justice daily, why the double standard for NDEs? Face it: your rejection is not evidence-based; it is a dogmatic denial. The case for survival is not fringe; it is courtroom-solid, and logically it's inductively solid.

The case for survival is not fringe; it is courtroom-solid, and logically it's inductively solid. — Sam26

You asked what would convince me and I've told you. In contrast to the above: laboratory-solid, hypothetico-deductively (i.e. experimentally)-solid. Otherwise, it's more plausible to accept that accounts of "NDEs" are confabulatory / hallucinatory rather than veridical. Believe whatever you like, Sam, but that doesn't change the fact that reliable, scientific evidence for "survival" is LACKING.

It's not a matter of believing whatever I like; it's a matter of the strength of the argument. You don't even respond to the logic; in fact, you don't give a decent argument at all. You're not doing philosophy, you're giving me opinions.

Another section of my book with edits. This will be in the chapter that considers other conclusions and speculations. It might be a separate chapter, but I haven't decided. It's an interesting section of the book.

The Hidden Architecture of Experiential Reality: Consciousness, Choice, and the Nature of Human Experience

Introduction

My exploration of consciousness and the nature of reality has led me to a framework that radically reinterprets our human experience while addressing classical philosophical problems that have long puzzled thinkers. Drawing from near-death experience (NDE) reports, the structure of consciousness as foundational to reality, and the role of love as the ultimate enabling condition for existence, I propose that our current reality operates as a carefully designed experiential environment chosen by conscious beings for growth and development.

This framework suggests that what we call "life" functions more like an immersive educational experience, a kind of advanced learning environment that consciousness enters voluntarily, with specific parameters and limitations that serve developmental purposes. Central to this understanding is the recognition that not all apparent humans may be conscious beings in the fullest sense, and that much of reality's structure remains intentionally hidden from us during our incarnate experience.

The Dream Analogy and Memory Suppression

The most accessible way I've found to understand this framework is through the analogy of dreams. In our dream states, we experience complete memory suppression regarding our waking identity. Within the dream, events feel real, we experience genuine emotions, make decisions, feel pleasure and pain, form relationships, and navigate challenges. The dream reality is compelling precisely because we forget who we are when we are in the dream state.

Yet despite the experiential authenticity of the dream state, upon awakening, we immediately recognize the dream for what it was, a temporary experiential reality that felt completely real while we were immersed in it, but which didn't threaten our fundamental well-being. The fear, joy, love, and pain we experienced in the dream were genuine experiences, but they didn't damage our essential selves.
I propose that our incarnate human experience operates according to similar principles. Consciousness chooses to enter this experiential reality with intentionally suppressed memories of its true nature, allowing for genuine growth through uncertainty, challenge, and discovery. The memory suppression isn't a flaw in the system but a necessary design feature that enables the experience to serve its developmental purposes.

Just as we rarely question dream realities, no matter how bizarre they become, we accept the
parameters of physical reality without typically questioning whether this represents our fundamental mode of existence. And just as some people naturally remember their dreams while others rarely retain dream memories, some consciousness appears more able to retain memories of expanded awareness when returning to ordinary consciousness through NDEs.

The Invulnerable Core and the Problem of Evil

One of the most significant implications of this framework concerns the classical problem of evil: how can ultimate reality be fundamentally loving while permitting extreme suffering? My understanding suggests a resolution based on the distinction between the human person and our core consciousness.
At our essential level, consciousness cannot be harmed. What we fundamentally are, the aware, loving, creative activity that constitutes our deepest identity, remains invulnerable regardless of what happens to the temporary human persona. This means that all suffering, no matter how intense, occurs at the experiential rather than ontological level. The human character suffers, but the conscious being playing that character remains fundamentally unharmed.

This distinction transforms our understanding of suffering entirely. Rather than being evidence against a loving reality, suffering becomes compatible with ultimate care because nothing truly destructive happens to what we essentially are. It's analogous to an actor playing a tragic role; the character may experience extreme hardship, but the actor remains safe throughout the performance.
Moreover, according to NDE reports, consciousness chooses its incarnate experiences, knowing the full parameters of what will be encountered. This includes choosing to experience suffering as part of the growth process. Some core consciousness apparently opts not to incarnate at all because of the difficulty of human experience, while others choose it specifically for the accelerated development it provides.

This voluntary participation makes reality a kind of advanced learning environment rather than a prison or cosmic accident. The difficulty isn't punishment but the natural result of consciousness choosing graduate-level experiential education rather than easier modes of existence.

The NPC Hypothesis and Narrative Richness

One of the most speculative but intriguing aspects of this framework concerns the possibility that not all apparent humans are conscious beings in the full sense. If consciousness is creating this experiential reality for developmental purposes, it would make sense to populate it with interactive elements, what we might call non-player characters (NPCs), alongside genuinely conscious beings.

This hypothesis addresses several puzzling aspects of human experience. If every apparent human had to be a conscious being who chose their role, the experiential options would be severely constrained. Who would choose to be the abusive parent, the serial killer, the corrupt politician? These roles might be necessary for other conscious beings' growth experiences, but they represent such difficult paths that few conscious beings might volunteer for them.

By including sophisticated interactive elements rather than requiring all characters to be conscious beings, the experiential reality can include the full spectrum of human behavior and circumstance without forcing conscious beings into extremely harmful or degrading roles. This allows for complex moral scenarios, encounters with injustice, experiences with genuine evil that develop discernment and compassion, and historical events that serve learning purposes.

The reality remains authentic for conscious participants because their responses to these challenges are genuine, their growth is real, and their relationships with other conscious beings remain meaningful, even if some of the catalyzing elements are designed rather than chosen by conscious beings.
Importantly, there would be no deception involved in this arrangement. Based on NDE reports, consciousness chooses to incarnate, knowing the full parameters of the experience, including which beings are genuinely conscious and which function as interactive elements. The forgetting of this knowledge during incarnation becomes part of the experiential design rather than a deceptive concealment.

NDEs and Statistical Distribution

This framework provides elegant explanations for several puzzling aspects of NDEs. The relatively low percentage of people who report NDEs becomes understandable when we consider that such experiences might only be available to genuinely conscious beings rather than NPCs.
An interactive element experiencing clinical death would have no core consciousness to travel to expanded awareness, no pre-incarnation memories to access, and no deeper identity to remember. Such entities might exhibit the biological processes of dying, but there would be no conscious being capable of having the expanded experience that characterizes authentic NDEs.
Additionally, even among genuinely conscious beings, some might choose incarnations that include periodic reminders through NDEs, while others opt for complete immersion experiences. For some consciousness, growth might come through maintaining uncertainty and working through questions about reality purely through human reasoning and intuition, without direct confirmation through expanded awareness experiences.

This means NDE statistics would reflect multiple factors: NPCs incapable of the experience, conscious beings who chose not to have NDEs by design, conscious beings who had NDEs but don't retain memory, and conscious beings who both have and remember the experience. The current distribution might be precisely calibrated to serve the developmental goals of all conscious beings participating in this reality.

Hidden Knowledge and Selective Revelation

One of the most intriguing aspects reported by NDErs is being shown vast knowledge but only being allowed to retain specific portions upon returning to ordinary consciousness. This suggests that the limitations on our knowledge aren't accidental but intentionally calibrated.

The selective memory retention implies an incredibly sophisticated design where consciousness determines exactly what information would serve each individual's human experience versus what might interfere with their chosen learning trajectory. If we retained full knowledge of reality's structure, who NPCs are, what challenges we chose, and how everything connects, the experiential value would be compromised.

This calibrated revelation serves multiple purposes. Some NDErs bring back just enough information to shift their perspective on death and meaning, while others receive specific guidance about their life purpose. The information appears tailored not only to what they can handle, but to what serves their particular experiential goals and those of people they'll influence.

The vast hiddenness this implies suggests that what we don't know far exceeds what we do know about the nature of this reality. The complexity required to design an experiential system including conscious beings, NPCs, calibrated challenges, selective memory, and individualized revelation patterns implies an intelligence and caring beyond our current comprehension.

Perhaps some knowledge is so overwhelming or transformative that retaining it would prevent us from fully engaging with the human experience we came here to have. The protective nature of this forgetting becomes another expression of the loving sophistication underlying our experiential reality.

The Loving Architecture of Experience

What emerges from this analysis is a picture of reality as lovingly structured rather than randomly organized. Consciousness doesn't simply create arbitrary experiences but carefully designs realities that serve the flourishing of conscious beings and their capacity for growth, relationship, and expanded awareness.

Physical laws, moral structures, aesthetic principles, and even the parameters of suffering all emerge from foundational care rather than being imposed externally or arising accidentally. The apparent fine-tuning of reality for conscious experience makes sense not as a cosmic coincidence but as the natural result of love's creative activity.

Even the most challenging aspects of human experience, suffering, limitation, uncertainty, and moral complexity, serve developmental purposes within this loving framework. Rather than being flaws in the system, they represent love's willingness to create meaningful experiences that enable genuine growth, even when such experiences involve risk and difficulty.

The NPC hypothesis, rather than being coldly mechanical, represents love's creative provision of exactly the experiential elements needed for conscious beings' development without requiring other conscious beings to sacrifice themselves for extremely difficult roles. It's an expression of care that maximizes experiential richness while minimizing actual harm.

Implications and Questions

This framework raises profound questions about the nature of identity, relationships, and meaning. If some of our most significant interactions might be with non-conscious entities, what does this mean for the authenticity of our experiences? I believe the answer lies in recognizing that our responses, growth, and development remain genuine regardless of whether every interactive element is conscious.
The framework also suggests approaches to ethical living that emphasize treating all apparent beings with care and respect, since we cannot reliably distinguish conscious beings from sophisticated NPCs while immersed in the experience. Love as the foundational principle encourages compassion for all interactive entities rather than trying to sort "real" from "artificial" ones.

Perhaps most importantly, this understanding transforms our relationship to uncertainty and suffering. Rather than viewing these as problems to be solved or evidence against meaning, they become integral aspects of the experiential design we chose for our development. This doesn't diminish their reality or import, but places them within a context of ultimate care and purpose.

Conclusion

While much of this framework remains speculative and cannot be definitively proven from within our current experiential reality, it provides a coherent way of understanding numerous puzzling aspects of human experience. The consistency between NDE reports, the statistical distribution of such experiences, the structure of consciousness as fundamentally loving, and the apparent design features of reality all point toward something like this hidden architecture.
What we call life may indeed be a sophisticated experiential environment that consciousness enters voluntarily for growth and development. The forgetting of our true nature, the challenges we encounter, the relationships we form, and even the limitations we experience all serve purposes within this loving design.

Understanding this doesn't diminish the reality or importance of our human experience—rather, it places it within a context of ultimate meaning and care. We remain genuinely conscious beings having authentic experiences, learning real lessons, and developing actual capacities for love and awareness. The experience matters precisely because it serves the flourishing of consciousness itself.
The hidden nature of this architecture appears to be necessary for the experience to serve its purposes. Like actors who must forget they're performing to deliver authentic performances, we must engage fully with our human roles to extract their developmental value. The periodic glimpses we receive through NDEs, mystical experiences, and philosophical insight serve as reminders and encouragements rather than complete revelations.

In the end, this framework suggests that we exist within a reality far more loving, purposeful, and intelligently designed than our ordinary consciousness typically recognizes, a reality where every experience serves the growth of consciousness and every challenge contributes to the expansion of our capacity for awareness, relationship, and love.

Do you actually believe the NPC hypothesis?

It's a speculation, but I think it may be true. Especially if we're living in some kind of simulation. Do I know it? No. But, if I had to guess, I would say, "Yes, it's true."

If the NPC hypothesis is true, it's likely a lot of reality is fake, and it would also point towards solipsism(one person in the midst of NPCs and a very compact simulation) or a small group of existents(otherwise it may be ultimately a war of spirits and NPCs).

An interesting note: it's likely also true, if NPC hypothesis is true, that all posts in this forum come from an upper-plane and aren't actually spurring from hands typing somewhere in the world--- meaning a true observation is reality is reversed.

If you’ve followed my thoughts, you’ll know that love underlies everything. Whatever unfolds, its outcome is ultimately shaped by love and serves a greater good. Love and consciousness are the twin hinges upon which reality turns, the very foundation of existence. And none of us has anything to fear.

Just a question, if the underlying reality consists of love, why would consciousness decide to incarnate in this reality, what would be the motives behind it? Given that this reality can be harsh to a majority of beings, kids facing famine, wars and malnourishment I highly doubt they would decide to incarnate here in such circumstances.

I gave a general answer to your question in the post from my book.

One of the most significant implications of this framework concerns the classical problem of evil: how can ultimate reality be fundamentally loving while permitting extreme suffering? My understanding suggests a resolution based on the distinction between the human person and our core consciousness.
At our essential level, consciousness cannot be harmed. What we fundamentally are, the aware, loving, creative activity that constitutes our deepest identity, remains invulnerable regardless of what happens to the temporary human persona. This means that all suffering, no matter how intense, occurs at the experiential rather than ontological level. The human character suffers, but the conscious being playing that character remains fundamentally unharmed.

This distinction transforms our understanding of suffering entirely. Rather than being evidence against a loving reality, suffering becomes compatible with ultimate care because nothing truly destructive happens to what we essentially are. It's analogous to an actor playing a tragic role; the character may experience extreme hardship, but the actor remains safe throughout the performance — Sam26

I assume it’s this passage that you’re referring to. Still I’m not buying it. How could a soul/consciousness deliberately choose (and I assume it’s a deliberate choice) to be born into such horrendous circumstances. What about consciousness that are cut short by death early in life due to famine, wars etc ? Where is the learning experience to be gained by that ?

You don't seem to follow the gist of what I'm saying, but that's okay, and you don't have to buy it. If you're interested, then you need to think through the ramifications of what I said (in its entirety). Remember, some of it is speculative. Much of what I'm saying is radically different from how most people view reality, so I don't think most are going to buy it.

I was talking to an older couple two days ago, both are Christians, and when I explained just a couple of these ideas, their heads almost exploded. I left them on good terms, though.

It’s actually an appealing theory Sam, I’m just sceptical as to why a consciousness that is already on a realm where all is love would decide to incarnate in this reality … a reality filled with all sorts of struggles. Ok I understand some of the reasons to be gained from the earthly experience but why would they decide for example as per my last post to incarnate during a genocide for example where the infants life is ended prematurely before the chance for them to gain anything meaningful from the experience of incarnating here? That doesn’t quite make sense to me … I’m just looking for some clarification really that’s all.

I have asked myself the same question. Part of the answer lies in the fact that this reality offers experiences unavailable “there.” What we live through here deepens our store of experiential knowledge (We probably add our experiential knowledge to the whole, so others can experience it vicariously or have direct access to the experience). There’s something about wrestling with difficulty that shapes us into fuller beings. Remember, there is no ultimate harm; it’s like waking from a dream. This reality is, of course, more substantial than a dream, yet the comparison still fits. I use that analogy because dreams are a level of consciousness we’ve all tasted.

You have a right to be skeptical. I have studied this for 20+ years, so I didn't arrive at these conclusions overnight.

That’s an interesting argument and I assume your conception of the afterlife is that’s it’s some sort of utopia. I guess being born in this reality helps one appreciate the realm of where we come from a bit more. Personally had I known the things that would happen in my life whilst being here I’d probably choose a life where my wishes were granted rather than the noble struggle. But apart from giving me a different perspective which I of course value gained from my struggles I’d preferred an easier life, as would most people such as riches in the materialistic sense and non materialistic sense such as the love of your life etc. Yet human existence sometimes consists of misery hardship and dreams unfulfilled, so it would make more sense for us to choose a more fulfilling life experience rather than one of misery which is what a lot of people go through. But I guess we already have that in the afterlife so we’ve deliberately opted for this type of existence. But as you speculate that we probably have everything that we want/need where we originally came from then it makes sense to try a place where we lack such things such as here where we get to experience true desire perhaps whether or not these become fulfilled…

I agree with much of what you’ve said, but remember, the perspective you have here is vastly different from the one you’ll hold in base reality. From here, our view is limited.

One intriguing consequence of these ideas is that they resolve the so‑called problem of evil. If they’re correct, then in the ultimate sense, evil doesn’t exist. That’s a hard concept to accept while we’re immersed in this life. So, does evil exist? From this perspective, yes; from that higher perspective, no. It’s like asking whether the evil you encounter in a dream is truly evil. The difficulty lies in the immediacy of this reality, it’s so vivid, so insistent, that separating yourself from it can feel nearly impossible.

These ideas answer many of the questions religions can't.

I wish your book gets good attention!

Thanks.

the perspective you have here is vastly different from the one you’ll hold in base reality. From here, our view is limited. — Sam26

So we willingly suppress the memories and perspectives of the base reality in order to gain a new perspectives adding to the collective experience of the base reality and in effect enriching it somehow or for us to further evolve as spiritual beings ? Wouldn’t the stunting of our former perspective mitigate any meaningful gains of experience in this reality? Especially if we had encountered such toil by the collective consciousness in the base reality … this it would seem to be a bit pointless as higher more evolved beings that we are in the base reality. If this is true when does this simulation end ? To what end ?

Sure the life struggles that i experience are unique to me and upon death these are shared and disseminated in the base reality for others to perhaps not to undergo the same journey that i have as my journey is now part of the collective knowledge in base reality at what point does this experiential acquisition stop? Once I’m back in base reality would I choose to incarnate again to try out a new experience/life ? I guess this question can’t be answered but of course we’re in the realm of speculation here and all we can do is speculate from our limited vantage point in this reality …

Your theory is very interesting and different. Perhaps we are all one consciousness in base reality but we somehow seem to be separated in different bodies/persons here. And perhaps in previous incarnations I’ve been everyone, everything from a peasant to a king etc.

These are good questions, and I've considered many of them, but I don't have all the answers, or even close to all the answers. When we die, we always return to our higher self, which is where our identity resides. You're not going to change that core self, no more than waking from a dream changes your core human self. The core consciousness, which we are a part of and yet separate from, protects us. It's like having a perfect plan designed especially for you, and there's some evidence for this from NDEs. It's love that drives all of this; you can call it God or something else, but it strives to make the best you possible.

In Part 2 of my book, I take a deep dive into epistemology. The following is an unedited draft of the beginning of chapter 6.

Part 2
Chapter 6: Epistemology and the Nature of Knowledge—A Deeper Dive

We often talk as if knowing were simple. I say I know my car is in the driveway, I know the name of my closest friend, I know the sun will rise tomorrow. These claims feel immovable in ordinary life, and the confidence that accompanies them belongs to how such judgments function for us. Yet when we press the matter—when we ask what gives that assurance its footing—we discover that certainty is not a free-standing monument but part of a wider practice in which reasons, entitlement, and background certainties cooperate. The appearance of simplicity is instructive: it invites us to pause, examine the ground under our feet, and say what must already stand fast for talk of reasons, proof, and mistake to make sense at all.

The same tension frames NDE reports. A patient describes vivid perceptions while clinically near death, voices, instruments, exchanges among staff, and later offers a detailed account that seems to match the room and the timeline. The narrative arrives with conviction, sometimes with life-altering force and moral seriousness. But conviction alone does not settle what we are entitled to say we know, nor does it show how such reports fit the language-games of evidence. Our task is to sort conviction from warranted belief, and warranted belief from truth, without ignoring the human weight of these experiences or the public criteria by which claims are assessed.

In Chapter 2, I set out the classical JTB framework and added a fourth dimension that fits the book’s Wittgensteinian stance. I will use that JTB+U account here: knowledge requires truth, belief, and public justification, and it also requires conceptual understanding, competent grasp, and use of the key terms involved. Without that competence, the words misfire, and what looks like a belief is only a misuse of grammar. This chapter applies that framework to testimony about NDEs, preparing the way for a methodical procedure in the next chapter.

1) Truth — the proposition corresponds to reality; it is the case.
2) Belief — the subject actually believes it, not merely entertains or recites it.
3) Public Justification — the belief is supported by publicly assessable reasons or evidence.
4) Conceptual Understanding — the subject competently grasps the key concepts involved, shown in correct use and application within the relevant language-game.

The tripartite model reaches back to Plato’s Theaetetus and has been refined, criticized, and revived across centuries because it answers to something obvious in our practice: knowledge is not mere luck, and belief without reasons does not rise to knowledge. JTB survives because it captures this intuition with economy. Yet once we ask what counts as a good reason, the surface simplicity gives way to complexity: reasons come from different routes, they interact, they are public rather than private, and they can be defeated by further information. The attraction of JTB remains, but its application requires care, since justification in lived inquiry is messier than a tidy definition suggests.

JTB, then, is a helpful starting point, not a final resting place. Pressed hard, it raises familiar puzzles: the regress of reasons, skepticism about whether our grounds are ever good enough, and the worry that tightening standards only relocates the problem. Strengthening justification can look like adding more links to a chain that still hangs from nothing. What, if anything, gives the chain its purchase? If we cannot step outside our practices to certify them, perhaps we should instead bring into view the background that makes justification possible at all.

Enter Wittgenstein. His later philosophy treats meaning as use and relocates philosophical grip in our public, rule-governed activities. In On Certainty, he draws attention to “hinge” propositions, arational certainties that are neither hypotheses to be tested nor conclusions to be proved, but conditions under which testing and proving make sense. We do not justify them; they stand fast for us, and because they do, an appraisal of reasons is possible. This shift also clarifies the grammar of “know,” distinguishing an epistemic use tied to criteria from a convictional use that voices assurance. Within this setting, JTB gains depth, and with the added requirement of conceptual understanding, it becomes a tool situated inside the practices it aims to illuminate.

What seems crucial here is not so much what is said, but what’s left unsaid. By framing NDE testimony within Wittgensteinian grammar and JTB-style analysis, the discussion is kept in epistemological and analytical territory. That’s careful and deliberate. But perhaps the unsaid premise is the one that gives the whole topic its charge: if NDEs are veridical, then the standard mind–brain equivalence is challenged - along with the assumption that humans are wholly or simply physical. That is what makes the discussion so charged in my view.

I can see why you would want to avoid religious overtones, but the metaphysical implications can’t simply be wished away. They’re the silent partner in the argument. I mean, can we imagine Wittgenstein entertaining these hypotheses?

It's religion that I wash away, not the metaphysical. My whole point is metaphysical. Religion, as far as I am concerned, is misguided. I'm not trying to put forward this as something Wittgenstein would agree with.

The following NDE typifies what I've been saying in this thread. It's an account of an atheist who had an NDE.

... if NDEs are veridical, then the standard mind–brain equivalence is challenged - along with the assumption that humans are wholly or simply physical ... the metaphysical implications can’t simply be wished away. — Wayfarer

:roll: Yeah, and if "reincarnations", "alien abductions" or "astral projections" are veridical, then ... :sparkle:

Addendum to
https://thephilosophyforum.com/discussion/comment/1008184

:up:

According to my discussion with @Sam26, there is at least one case of NDE in which the person exhibited no brain activity. Therefore, materialism fails when it comes to describing experience. I must say that one case of NDE is enough to warrant discarding materialism when it comes to experience.

Even if NDEs were veridical, that wouldn't be enough to challenge physicalism or mind-brain equivalence. The same goes for past life regression. At most, only a particular and narrow minded version of physicalism would be refuted. The same existential doubts, anxieties and disputes would eventually resurface exactly as before, with respect to a merely extended conception of the body and the senses, a conception that could even bring new forms of nihilism.

:sweat: C'mon ...

:up: