Humans are theory generators. Why? As organisms thrown into time, survival depends on predicting the future, even the immediate future. Accurate predicting depends on theorizing, otherwise it's just random luck.
Theorizing at some more or less primitive level is arguably a characteristic of all organisms. Humans are just the most sophisticated predictors, capable of symbolizing the theories in language, and sharing them through symbolic communication. The sharing allows ever more sophisticated theories, on the one hand, and ever more appealing yet misguided theories. As Robin Hanson put it in The Age of Em, in a society where espousing and expressing ideas about the world, politics, psychology and spirituality raises one's prestige, we "prefer good-looking ideas to good ideas."
In a small group discussion, a couple friends asked "what makes a good theory?" and after rejecting "a true theory" (with post modern aplomb one friend said, "let's set truth aside for the moment" as if that were even coherent), they all answer, "a good theory is a theory that works!" (Maybe he meant that "a good theory is a theory that works" is not true, but I doubt it.)
I want to say, "works for what?" But you have to already have a theory to answer that question. I suggest instead, why not start with a typology of theories based on empirical gathering of theories and categorizing them in all possible ways, and then we can ask what does each theory type works for? Post moderns are not interested in empirical work. It's too tedious, not clever enough, not good-looking enough. Leave it to the scientist to do the drudge work.
So here are a few types of theories: emergent, reductive, inspirational, spiritual, metaphorical, metaphysical, empirical, predictive, explanatory, insight-oriented, mysterious, practical, self-serving, class-serving, in-group defining, out-group deploring...I'm missing a few. They could be categorized by their methods, or motives, or origins or historical development.
No point in just listing types, unless we can categorize them by some set of properties of relations. The logical positivists tried this by dividing the empirical versus non empirical ones. On their view, the non empirical ones were necessarily true because they didn't depend on evidence. But though true, they were not meaningfully predictive because the theory could accommodate any outcome; the empirical ones were never quite true because the past can't predict the future, so no matter how well an empirical scientific theory predicts, it could all turn out false with one counterexample.
Karl Popper observed that the positivist program rested on the inductive fallacy: the past cannot predict the future; the categories already observed may not hold of a newly discovered category. He corrected them with a falsification principle that would demarcates the sciences from the non sciences: a scientific theory must predict some fact which, if turns out false, falsifies the theory. A scientific theory must, in other words, explicitly contain the conditions under which it could be falsified. And following the inductive fallacy, he concluded that scientific theories are never proven, they are merely not-yet-falsified.
This demarcation however doesn't conform to the history of science. Instead, scientists hold onto their paradigm, using Kuhn's word, until some better theory is forced on them. Kuhn's empirical history opened the door to a kind of circular definition of science: whatever scientists do, that's science.
My personal answer to this circularity: science alone among humans theories, is not addressed to a human audience. The scientific investigation into truth -- or to be more accurate and humble, high probability -- leads wherever the evidence and the conjectures go. This is a necessary condition, and it's also the reason why the imagination of science is so far beyond that of art, religion, spiritual theories, conspiracy theories and sci-fi speculations. They are all addressed to either the individual human mind and emotions or to human communities. Science doesn't try to appeal to an audience. Popularizers or explainers, yes of course. But the science they are explaining needs explanation because the theories are so outlandish and often hard to understand. Compare the mysteries of religion -- they emerge because the theories addressed to the audience turn out to be incoherent so they require some ministerial doctrine to keep the believing public believing. And often mystery has its own appeal -- it's the lure that keeps on luring. My favorite poems are the ones that I can't quite understand fully. The mystery keeps me coming back.
Another take on theories: the sociology of false beliefs. Where in the social locations does each belief reside? What is the appeal, or more accurately, to whom does this type of theory appeal?
And the motivation or origin of each: the long history (religions are very old, scientific ones are newer, trendy theories range across the entire history). The Gates-Musk paradox examines conspiracy theories with this measure.
Cultural motivations -- political motivations -- personal aggrandizements and self-promotions like Freud, Jung, Hubbard, Joseph Smith the prophet. Lots of motives.
And theory-generation is a sport, a social media popularity game. Conspiracy theories have become such a game: who can soonest come up with a conspiracy theory contrary to the mainstream news or the most insidious or most likely conspiracy theory. It's a sport, and like sports, people play it with the greatest earnestness.
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