Questions
are often easier to ask than to answer. So, before trying to answer this
particular question, why is it worth trying to answer? Well, science is still
generally seen as a good thing, and a useful way of finding things out. And
scientists tend to be regarded as speaking with some authority. But this brings
with it a couple of dangers.
The
first is the propensity of scientists to speak outwith their area of expertise.
I can speak with some authority on a number of fairly obscure topics. With all
modesty, I know a thing or two about what modifies saccade latency (told you
they were obscure). However, I have been known to express opinions on a range
of other issues. How seriously should you take these? While I am entitled to a
polite hearing and a civil response, my views should carry no more weight than
yours outwith my areas of expertise and experience. If I were an economist, and
we were discussing the economic implications of Brexit, then you might pay more
attention (although apparently not). But if I’m an expert in eye movement
control?
Science
seems to have a lingering and subtle authority that has a certain cultural
influence. Advertisers know this and often present their claims in a pseudoscientific
way. So they will be made by a bespectacled, white-coated, grey-haired boffin.
Or reference will be made to something that sounds like a scientific experiment
that has been run, the results of which can inform your purchasing decision.
Subtle biases are being evoked. It is probably true that these effects might be
waning. And there does seem to be an anti-expert, pro-ignorance spirit abroad. This
spectre was raised by President Obama in his Rutgers commencement speech
recently, a speech that also specifically mentioned the merits of science.
Never-the-less, if there is even a lingering authority, then those who speak as
scientists will benefit from this. Time to try and answer that question.
You
might think that a scientist is simply someone who has a degree with science in
the title (in the UK someone with “BSc” after their name). And yet, with the
advent of mass higher education, there are many thousands of science graduates
who have no real practical experience of science. They’ve read about it,
they’ve been exposed to some practical scientific skills, they’ve maybe learned
how to review other peoples’ science. But this is some way short of actually
doing science and being a scientist. And one of the real weaknesses of science
education, at least in the western world, is that it is quite possible to do a
science degree and at no point step back and consider what science actually is.
What is “the scientific method”? Is there such a thing? Is there only one? How
does one do a real experiment, as opposed to a prepared laboratory practical? A
science degree should provide a basic level of scientific literacy. An
understanding that might see through bogus science-type claims in the media and
elsewhere. And this is useful. But can the holder really speak for science with
any authority?
What
about one level up, the “masters” level? Here there are various degree-types. Many
of them are highly vocational in nature, preparing the student for specific
tasks or careers. No harm in that. But does this qualify the holder as an
expert in “science”? Interestingly, again in many of these programmes, there is
no attempt to look more generally at science and how it works. Just as
interesting, those that only examine the history and practice of science, are
by definition not science at all. The next level up is the PhD, still the basic
professional qualification in, at least, academic science. This involves doing
science, and (ideally) becoming the initiator as well as the practitioner of
the science concerned. So, it should involve all those elements of hypothesis
generation, testing, falsification, discovery and confirmation. But this
apparent breadth of experience comes at the cost of specialization. So most of
the activity will probably all be concentrated on a tiny sliver of the broad
endeavour that is science more generally. Specialization is a problem when
making claims about science in general, as opposed to one little bit of it. I
can talk for days about eye movement, but you can easily trip me up by getting
me to hold forth on whether those Italian neutrinos really did go faster than
the speed of light (I don't think they did)!
I
suppose what I’m arguing is that we should all be very wary when we hear anyone
claiming general authority to speak on behalf of “science”. In the apologetic
arena, this applies equally to those speaking for or against propositions
concerning the existence of God, the reliability of the Gospels and the rest.
There’s no replacement for careful listening and critical thought. Factor in
the specific expertise where it is relevant. So, of the discussion is about the
age of rocks, you might want to give weight to a geologist. Be careful of
course if they stray into the issue of when the book of Daniel was written.
There
is also one place where many of these issues come together to annoy. This is in
the final chapter of many popular science books written by senior scientists. The
temptation is to bamboozle the reader with lots of brilliant science, both that
of the author, and that of the author’s scientific heroes. Fine so far. Indeed,
it’s often important and inspiring stuff. But having built up a degree of
credibility and authority in the reader’s mind, often a final chapter will be
slipped in that grinds various metaphysical axes well outwith the expertise of
the writer. The author is, of course, entitled to hold and express such views.
But what is really being perpetrated is a bit of con, whether conscious or unconscious.
The hope is that the authority built up in the first part of the book, will
spill over into the other stuff.
Of
course, most of what I’ve been discussing has nothing to do with my area of
expertise. So, you’ll have to judge for yourself whether I’m making sense.
