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.

Surely you’re joking (Mr Feynman)?

Richard Feynman was a Nobel prize-winning physicist, who is perhaps best known these days for his role in the Rogers Commission which investigated the Challenger disaster. It was Feynman who famously worked out what had caused the disaster. He was as far from the stereotypical nerdy, bespectacled, white coated boffin as it is possible to get. When I was a student (of Physiology, not Physics) his memoir “Surely you’re joking, Mr Feynman”[1] was a must read. One thing you won’t read in it is a quote about the philosophy of science that’s usually attributed to Feynman: “The philosophy of science is as useful to scientists and ornithology is to birds”. No one appears to be able to pin down where and when he said (or wrote) this – hence the brackets in the title of this blog piece. So it is possible that it’s not one of his aphorisms. But it captures fairly accurately his attitude toward philosophy in general and the philosophy of science in particular. It is an attitude probably shared by not a few physicists.

Sir Peter Medawar, also a Nobel prize winner (this time for Physiology and Medicine for his work on immunity), had a bit more time for philosophy, at least to the extent that he was quite fond of perpetrating it. He pointed out that if you ask a scientist about the scientific method, “….he will adopt an expression that is at once solemn and shifty-eyed: solemn because he feels he ought to declare an opinion; shifty-eyed because he is wondering how to conceal the fact that he has no opinion to declare.”[2]  What he was highlighting was that in professional science we have tended not to think about the intellectual procedures we follow, and we rarely explicitly teach them to students either. I was expected to learn my scientific methodology through a combination of observation and osmosis. Of course what this has meant is that when challenged to articulate how we do what we do, we are apt to come up short. That was Medawar’s point. Given the undoubted success of science in providing explanations for, and control over, all sorts of aspects of the natural world, this apparent vacuum about science itself was bound to be filled with something.

Of course on one level there have always been philosophers of science. The list includes the like of Aristotle who philosophised about science before science, as we know it now, existed. Bacon, Hume, Mill and Kant all had something to say on the topic. Scientists did from time to time contribute; Newton famously had a dig at hypothises. But throughout the 19^th Century a division began to set in between those on the outside talking about science, and an increasingly professional cadre of scientists on the inside doing the science. And it appeared that you could do it fairly successfully, without actually knowing too much about how you were doing it. Perhaps this is when (some) scientists started getting a bit sniffy about the philosophers. It didn’t help that sometimes the description of science from the outside was not flattering. In the 1960’s it was the philosopher Thomas Kuhn who talked about one set of new scientific theories conquering and displacing an older less powerful set as a “conversion experience that cannot be forced”[3]. Not entirely rational on Kuhn’s account. Interestingly, his views were shaped by examples from physics and cosmology; perhaps this explains the antipathy of at least some physicists to philosophers.

But thinking has to be done, concepts have to clarified, and this is the proper province of philosophers. Yet even today there remains a bit of a prejudice against burdening science students with thinking about what science is and how it works. I used to be in charge of a large health sciences module on research methods. As part of the module I introduced a session on the philosophy of science, so that students would be introduced to a coherent account of scientific methodology (the sort of thing that might avoid the situation described by Medawar). To say that my colleagues thought that this was the lowest of low priorities would be an understatement. It didn’t remain a part of their course for very long!

However, there are a number of issues within contemporary science that mean it is more important than ever that  students are trained properly in scientific methodology, and that as a profession we understand what we’re doing and to what standards. There’s no harm at all in understanding research ethics (ethics being a branch of philosophy no less), and being introduced to issues in research integrity. There has always been successful and unsuccessful science. Some experiments work, others fail. Some turn out to be misconceived and doomed to failure from the start, at least when viewed with scientific hindsight. That’s all grist for the scientific mill. But success and failure in scientific terms are not the same as good and bad science, or for that matter good and bad scientists. The bad ones are the ones that fabricate data and such like – in other words they lie and cheat. This is of sufficient concern for governments, agencies and institutions to have introduced research integrity codes of practice. Perhaps the best known example of these is the Office of Research Integrity in the US.

Research misconduct certainly happens (as the ORI website attests). It is not common, and it is not widespread (probably). Along with proper policing and an open culture, better training might well improve the situation. Clearer understanding of how science works and what is, and is not acceptable practice, can only be a good thing. But more is required. This is about something beyond science; one might even say that it requires knowledge of something above science that underpins good science. Policies and procedures, clear thinking (yes, aided by the philosophers) will get us so far. But at root, this is about right and wrong, it is about values. But where do we get the right values? This is not a scientific question at all. But science (as well as every other area of human endeavour) depends on it.

Birds don’t need ornithology, but scientists do need lots of resources from beyond science. Intellectually, the help of the philosophers should be welcome. But an underpinning morality is needed too. And where are we going to get that?  

1. R.P. Feynman (1985) "Surely you're joking, Mr Feynman". 

2. P. Medawar (1982)  "Induction and intuition in scientific thought" in "Pluto's Republic".

3.T.S.Kuhn (1962) "The structure of scientific revolutions"