We are scientists. We are able to assimilate new information about our universe and say, "When our new findings contradict earlier suppositions, we have to correct them. We have to admit we were wrong. There can be no, 'Oh, but we've allllways had nine planets! We gave Pluto a cool name, we like it and we can't just take it back now!' No sentimental pleas, no church of whatever breathing down our necks can make it be so just because the truth is regrettable, blasphemous, or just plain not as much fun."
And the other thing I love? That us selfsame scientists are all goin' home, looking at the glossy fold-out of "Our Solar System" that we tore out of National Geographic when we were kids and saved to this day, and we're running a fingertip over that last little blue-white body out at its periphery, and sighing. Maybe even sniffling a little.
Wonderful, darling species.