Life in the Pandemic VI: Bigging up science - but a bit too much?

You may not have heard of Jennifer Doudna. But then there was a time when no one had heard of Charles Darwin or Albert Einstein. And of course, her name may not become as well-known as theirs. But, perhaps it will. Doudna played a key role in working out how to edit the genome using the CRISPR-Cas9 system. While this has opened up a can of ethical worms, it has transformed genetics and molecular biology and could transform medicine and a lot else besides. She recently had some interesting things to say about COVID19 and science. In an invited article in the Economist (June 5^th) she wrote that “After covid-19, science will never be the same—and this will be for the better.” Among other things, because of the role science has played in the pandemic, the public’s attitude to it will be transformed (for the better). Science itself will be fundamentally altered (improved), becoming more accessible through modern communications, more collaborative, and more nimble because of it. She likens all of this to a “Kuhnian paradigm shift”, a “new era” that she welcomes.

The problem is that her expertise is much narrower that the issues she tackles. You might think that a prominent scientist with an international reputation is exactly the right person to opine on big issues like the future of science and the public’s relationship with it. Her views are certainly cogent and worth examining. But on the particular issues she has no special expertise and therefore caries no particular authority beyond that of any other intelligent person (with or without scientific expertise). And full disclosure, if you choose to read on, exactly the same applies to me. The first thing that peaked my interest was her use of the idea of a Kuhnian paradigm shift. I’ve discussed before the odd state of affairs that scientists tend to be rather poorly educated in the philosophy of science, and that some have been happy to celebrate their ignorance. Professor Doudna at least discovered and read Thomas Kuhn’s classic essay “The Structure of Scientific Revolutions”. Published originally in 1962, it’s a fascinating read. It’s also something of a product of its time that philosophers of science have to some extent left behind (for a kindly appraisal see here). From Kuhn, Professor Doudna picked up the idea of paradigm shifts. In Kuhn’s account these occur when a period of “normal” science in some mature field of scientific endeavour is disrupted by “revolutionary” science, resulting in a new theory (or paradigm – a set of theories, methods, observations, way of looking at the world) overtaking an existing one. Paradigms and paradigm shifts quickly moved out of philosophy and went mainstream. The problem was that these notions came to be used in a very lazy way, and that’s how they are used in Professor Doudna’s article.

There is no paradigm shift going on science currently. Even if you thought science was one thing, a single institution, with a single methodology and single output (and this is far from the case), if you believed that it was a single entity that could be changed by a seminal happening like a pandemic, there’s no evidence that it is. And if science is about anything, it has to be about evidence. But science isn’t one thing. An analogy would be that of the distinction between sport and rugby. “Sport” describes a collection of things; “rugby” names one of the things in the collection (along with football, tennis, cricket etc). Sport is a collective noun, and so is “science”. There are commonalities between neurophysiology and geology, and key features of methodology that they might share (eg a common commitment to the collection of data of various kinds), but there are big differences too. The idea that there is something going on across all of science, that “science” is changing in some fundamental way, doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. To which the eminent professor might retort that she isn’t claiming that it is. But that’s what she has written.

What is perhaps in a state of flux is the public’s attitude to science. Certainly there's been a lot of public exposure for certain elements of the scientific enterprise. For months here in the UK we’ve watched daily press conferences where the mantra has been “we’re following the science”. There are things this means, and things it doesn’t mean, or at least shouldn’t. It should certainly mean that scientists of various kinds are feeding into a process that informs government decisions. Science provides a set of tools that can describe what a virus (in this case COVID19) can do and is doing in a population. It provides tools that can predict to a given level of precision what the virus is going to do, at least in terms of the numbers infected and the numbers likely to die over a given period of time. It has identified drugs that are useful (like dexamethasone) and drugs that aren’t (hydroxychloroquine – sorry Donald). It’s worth pointing out that the product of the scientific exercise is rarely, if ever, a single, simple number; science, particularly biological science, deals with ranges of numbers with uncertainties baked in. And scientific explanations and answers never come with cast iron guarantees. They are not guesses, but neither are they infallible. At various stages, judgements have to be been made; these are human judgements and therefore potentially flawed judgements. Through discussion, debate, further testing, replication, or refutation, we hope the flaws are spotted and eliminated. It’s never the clean, clever, clear process that after the fact even scientists (and some philosophers) tend to construct. Don’t misunderstand me, science provides a sound means of finding the answers to certain types of question. But when it comes to the decisions that a government might have to take in a pandemic, often the questions are broader and more complex than science is equipped to deal with. This is not to argue that it is in some way flawed and that a better science has to be developed. Just that it is limited. So what “following the science” cannot mean is that the only information flowing in to government is scientific information. Because many of the decision that are being taken are big, complex, tricky, properly political decisions.

When and how school children are going to return to school has become a major bone of contention over the last few weeks. Scientific advice may be able to provide an estimate of how many children would be infected and how many might become seriously ill (probably a very small number) if all children went back to school right now with no social distancing. This estimate might contrast with an alternative estimate of how many might be affected if only 20% of children of a given age went back now, all wearing masks with 2m between them. A risk can be calculated. But that’s the easy bit. What level of risk is acceptable, what level of sickness is acceptable, given the needs of children for their education and the other social, economic and  health benefits that being in school brings? That’s a much trickier question that science on its own can't answer, and shouldn't be asked to. Other disciplines and experience are needed. Hopefully all kinds of information is being fed into the decision making process before judgements on these kinds of issue are made. But given the prominence that science has been given in the pandemic, what happens to science when the judgements made become controversial and disputed? Will science get the blame?

Professor Doudna only sees an upside. But the prominence of science in the pandemic, or at least the lip service being paid to it, could create a backlash. That would be dangerous. Vaccination against disease is a real success story. It’s a science that has been worked on for centuries, and its wide-scale adoption in the 20^th century saved millions of lives and delivered hundreds of millions from misery. Yet in our time we have to contend with the phenomenon of the anti-vaxers, who are already gearing up to decry any COVID19 vaccine as some dangerous conspiracy. In the US, Dr Anthony Faucci, has been found lamenting recently on the impact of a growing anti-science bias. Scientist should beware of becoming just another elite disconnected from the mass of people (who, it turns out, pay for most of the science through their taxes) and talking down to them. A bit of care is needed. And perhaps a bit of humility too. Science does have its limits and scientists do have their flaws. Personally, I’d be careful about bigging science up – too much.

Life in the Pandemic V: Trump and the tragedy of the closed Bible.

You may perhaps have seen the video or the photographs. On Tuesday 2^nd June, President Trump emerged from the White House and walked with his usual large entourage to the nearby St John’s Episcopal Church. He was then photographed awkwardly holding a Bible. Not his own Bible we learned, but “a Bible”. It was, at all times, a closed Bible. At a the very least this stands out as a striking metaphor; it may also provide a key to understanding a number of facets of the Trump era. It appears that the Bible is a closed book to Donald Trump.

We don’t just have those images to go on. Although President Trump has claimed on a number of occasions that the Bible is his favourite book (indeed that it is better than his own book “The Art of the Deal”), he has in the past been unable or unwilling to say which particular verse, or passage, or even testament he liked, claiming it was a personal matter. He was more forthcoming in January 2016. In a speech at Liberty University, he actually did pick a particular verse, reportedly saying "2 Corinthians, 3:17, that's the whole ballgame." If you have a Bible to hand, open it and read the verse in context (always a good idea). Having done exactly that, this pick strikes me as an exercise in random association rather than exegesis.

What is more telling is his record in business and politics. This allows an assessment as to the closeness of the mapping between the manner of life and values described in the Bible, and those exhibited by the Donald. Even restricting the evidence to the recent past, the record is not encouraging. It was an unguarded moment, caught on the infamous Access Holywood tape, that revealed a profoundly unbiblical (not to say disturbing) attitude to women and sex. His attitude to other human beings in general falls well short of what one would expect someone heavily influenced by Scripture to exhibit. At a rally in Huntsville Alabama, on Sept 22^nd 2017, he stirred up the crown by attacking NFL players who protested during the US national anthem (he accused them of “disrespecting the flag”) using the term “son of a bitch”. Note that what they were doing was neither illegal or disrespectful. One suspects that this language is tame compared to how Trump talks about friends and foes in private. To be fair, it would be naïve to expect any prominent politician, US president or otherwise, to be linguistically gentle with their political opponents. Other US presidents have undoubtedly used choice language at various times, but not with the brash cynicism and relish of President Trump, and rarely in public. Whatever the influences on his choice of language, about people or other subjects, it’s not the Bible.

But this is all vanishingly unimportant compared to the other major characteristic of Donald’s time in power  – his total disregard, and apparent undisguised contempt for, truth. From arguing the toss about the trivial matter (to most) of how many people turned up to his inauguration, via the more serious issue of persistent and repeated falsehoods about the US economy to potentially deadly attempted deceptions about the pandemic in the US, the abuse of truth has become the hallmark of his presidency. It is so common-place, that it has become part of a new normal. It has spawned a vast fact-checking industry, which provides publicly accessible databases, where one can search for his lies by topic or source, or filter by time period. The rate at which he has thrown off false or misleading claims since the beginning of his presidency is currently 15.6 per day, cumulatively 19, 127 as of the 29^th May, 2020. Again to be fair, some of these will be matters of interpretation and context, and the number may be inflated to a degree by anti-Trump political bias. But it is clear that there is evidence of a commitment to falsehood here, not just an occasional slip. Deception and obfuscation have become matters of policy.

Of course it is generally held that all politicians are liars. There’s the old joke about how you know when a politician is lying – his lips move. But until recently actually telling a bald-faced, slam-dunk lie could be a career ending move. Famously in the House of Commons because all members are “honourable” members, it is unparliamentary language to call someone a liar (or a blackguard, guttersnipe, stoolpigeon or traitor). This led to the use of the Churchillian “terminological inexactitude” (first used in 1906 in a slightly different way), as a suitable euphemism. Yet it remains the case that politicians of all parties were careful in what they said, and were sometimes careful to say nothing at all. They knew the seriousness of being caught out being flatly dishonest. Even though Tony Blair arguably did not lie in the run up to the Iraq war, he is still marked by large sections of the UK population as being slippery and shifty and therefore not trustworthy. But in further contrast to Trump, you would never catch Blair (whose Government famously did not “do God”) holding a Bible at a photo-op. Or Gordon Brown (who was raised in a manse) or Tim Farron (who is open about his Christianity). Trump holds the Bible up and proclaims it is his favourite book, and resorts to lies at an alarming rate as a matter of policy and strategy. His is an approach that is starkly different to anything we’ve seen before.

If you think President Trump is a stupid man, you will be tempted to put his behaviour down to his stupidity, and his preference to fantasy over reality. But there is a calculated and brazen quality to the depth and breadth of what he says and how he says it. And I don’t think he is stupid. Which in a way makes the situation much more serious. It also means he is much more culpable for his abuse of truth, which is where we come back to the Bible. You will find leaders who lie in the Bible. That’s because it is, in part, a record of real people and their lives. And most real people, you and me included, have a problem with truth. Abraham is a famous Bible liar (he told the same lie twice with potentially disastrous consequences). David is another one who lied and schemed to get his hands on another man’s wife, with disastrous consequences for him, his family and his nation. But their lies also brought shame, and in David’s case clearly recorded (and quite possibly public) repentance (just read Psalm 51). They knew their lies were a problem, not a solution.

The solution for Abraham, David and countless others right down to today, is to respond to God and His word. Sooner or later President Trump will learn the same lesson. He could learn it from the pages of his Bible (and perhaps, like David, repent), but he’d have to open it first.