Brave Humans

Recently among the scientific community there has been a discussion on how to better convey science to the general public. Much of this discussion has focused on the framing of science, particularly with regard to its philosophical (i.e. religious) consequences. On one side are the those opposed to framing science in such a way. They argue that science should be presented purely as a matter of evidence and conclusions. Drawing philosophical conclusions (such as the existence or non-existence of God) should be left to individuals. On the other side are those who feel the philosophy is vital to an understanding of science. In other words the philosophical conclusions of science (e.g. atheism) are required in order to be true scientists.

Personally, I’m more in the former camp than the latter, but I also part company with them in some ways. Most significantly is in recognizing that our philosophical context is fundamentally connected to our approach to science. We can’t separate our philosophy from our scientific interpretations. The best we can do is recognize what our philosophical foundations are and be mindful that there are other views in the world.

One way to do this is to examine the philosophical views of scientists throughout history. In so doing we often find that scientific philosophy has always been more subtle and complex than we might expect. A good example of this can be seen in Isaac Newton. Newtonian physics represented a triumph of theoretical and empirical science. With it you can predict the motion of everything from planets to baseballs. It is so accurate that we can use it to land spacecraft on Mars with pinpoint precision.

Within half a century after Newton’s work, the philosophical view of science underwent a revolution. No longer was the universe chaotic and unfathomable. Instead it was a great machine. A clockwork universe where Newton’s physics worked as gears and springs. For some, Newton included, this was clear evidence of Divine power. Newton was deeply religious, though his theology was unorthodox and would have been considered heretical for his day. For him, the clockwork universe was definitive proof of God. The planets moved with mathematical precision because God held them to their course. Without God, the universe would collapse into chaos.

But others did not share his view. The mathematician Laplace, when asked about the existence of God is said to have replied “I have no need of that hypothesis.” The philosophy of Laplace held that a clockwork universe proved God did not exist. The machinations of the universe churn ever onward, without God’s intervention. God becomes superfluous, since order and structure is all we ever need.

Between these two views arose a philosophical middle ground, that of Deism. This was a view held by many of the founding fathers of the United States, including Thomas Jefferson. The philosophy of Deism held that the universe in its present form is indeed a clockwork machine, but that God was the creator of the machine. God invented the laws of physics, set the universe in motion, and then left it to its own devices.

All three of these are in complete agreement with what we observe in the modern world. In each of these philosophies Newtonian physics works equally well. But these three views also diverge significantly on matters of faith, and on what is physically possible. Consider, for example, the miracles of Jesus as described in the Gospels. Miracles are perfectly consistent with Newton’s universe. Since God is needed to constrain objects to their proper motion, God is also free to relax this constraint so as to allow miracles to happen. In the universe of Laplace, the Bible is mostly fable, and the miracles it describes are nothing more than false legends. In Jefferson’s universe, miracles become more ambiguous. If God set the universe in motion, he could intervene miraculously, making course corrections or adjusting the machine from time to time. But Jefferson, like most Deists of his time, did not subscribe to this view. For Jefferson, God’s interaction was a one time deal. For this reason, Jefferson saw the miraculous side of Jesus as allegory rather than literal truth. Jefferson even went so far as to rewrite the Gospels with the miracles expurgated, leaving only the teachings and history of Jesus.

If we were to ask a dozen people to consider their philosophical views of science and the nature of reality, I suspect we would get two dozen answers. I have no doubt that all of us hold a mish-mash of philosophical views, many of which are vague or even contradictory. I also suspect that there is a division in the views of scientists versus non-scientists here in the States. It seems to me that most Americans hold views somewhere between Newton and Jefferson. A mostly mechanical, sometimes miraculous universe which God created. Most scientists, on the other hand probably range between Jefferson and Laplace. If God exists, he is a distant king outside of time and space.

In the debate on science vs. faith, scientists (myself included) like to argue from the basis of evidence and facts. We don’t like arguing about philosophy or meaning, because that leads to a lot of “anyone’s guess”, or “I don’t knows”. It isn’t that we don’t like mysteries, in fact mysteries are what drive us to seek answers. There are a lot of interesting mysteries in science that we find fascinating, but we don’t usually talk about them outside of scientific circles. So in talking to the general public, we are most comfortable talking about what we can quantify, which is theory, fact, and evidence.

And therein lies the difficulty many scientists have in conveying science. Most people care about meaning much more than evidence. Their religious, philosophical and political views are chosen primarily by what speaks to them on an emotional level, rather than a cold analysis of objective evidence. This is not to imply that most people don’t look at evidence, but rather they tend select evidence that supports the view they like, while questioning evidence they don’t. It is known as confirmation bias, and we are all guilty of it to varying degrees. The process of science, with its repeatability and peer review is designed to eliminate confirmation bias as much as possible, and scientists are trained to be mindful of such biases. We are trained to be convinced only by the evidence, and so we often assume everyone works solely on evidence. They don’t, and it is difficult for many scientists to wrap their heads around that fact.

Regardless of which camp they are in, scientists generally agree that something needs to be done. Support for science in America is on the decline. More and more, people see science in opposition to their core values, and they see scientists as amoral at best. On the other side, a growing number of scientists take the view that one must choose between a rational view of evidence or a demon haunted world of myth and superstition. Both views argue that you are with us or against us, and you have to choose. Such an approach is not constructive in my view. Divisiveness may be human, but it isn’t brave.

So where to go from here?

I’ve thought about this long and hard over the past several months, and I’ve come to the conclusion that what we need is a scientist with the soul of a poet. Carl Sagan comes to mind. If we want people to regain an interest in science, then scientists need to start talking about meaning again. We need to speak on more than just an intellectual level. We need to evoke the beauty and wonder of science. We need to stop avoiding the mysteries and their philosophical implications.

Unfortunately no poet-scientist seems to be around. Instead we are left with the Richard Dawkins style of rationalism and ridicule.

I’m not a poet. Hell, I’m only a marginally competent writer. I can be arrogant and condescending, and I am deeply encamped in the scientific world view, but I am human, and I will try to be brave. So I will try to hold the candle until someone better comes along.

In the next several posts I will try to convey some of the meaning and implications of science. I will talk of evidence and meaning, of miracles and machines, and I will try to make it relevant. But I can’t do it alone. So I’m asking readers out there to help me. Help me to understand what people want to know about science. Help me to convey science more clearly and more effectively.

If you are willing to help, I am willing to listen. Maybe together we can find science a muse.

Be Brave. Be Human.

Brian