When logic and experience collide: An evolving view of science

Philosophers have long entertained themselves by arguing about various obscure issues. Although many of the arguments of philosophers may strike us as endlessly tedious and impractical, some of them can be quite entertaining. One of the most interesting arguments in contemporary philosophy, in my view, is a debate concerning the nature of science.

The nature of science is an important issue to the members of my profession, mainly because modern psychology considers itself by nature a scientific discipline. Although the subject matter of psychology; the mind, human thought, emotions, and behavior; can be traced back to the philosophers of antiquity, modern psychology considers 1879 to be its birth year. That is the year German psychologist Wilhelm Wundt opened the first experimental laboratory devoted to investigating psychological questions, thus officially embracing methods used so productively by the more established sciences of physics, chemistry, and biology.

The success of science is undeniable. The 20th century ushered in dramatic technological developments that have transformed the lives of us all. Modern research has generated advances in medicine, a dramatic revolution in information and communication, space exploration, and revolutionary new ways of producing food for a dramatically increasing population of human beings. We generally attribute such technological advances to progress made in understanding the world brought about by science.

While we, living in the 21st century, might take the status and authority of science for granted, the unqualified trust we place in science is of relatively recent origin in the history of human thought. There was a time in the not so distant past, when science competed for authority alongside other claims to knowledge, originating from such sources as magic, alchemy, religious cults and sorcery. It was only after the successes of the Newtonian revolution that the credibility of scientific claims became firmly and universally established.

But what is it about science that distinguishes it from superstition, religion, and pseudoscience? What makes science special? How can we distinguish activities that are scientific from those that are not? Philosophers refer to this as the issue of science’s demarcation. Is explores what it is that demarcates or distinguishes science from other knowledge claims.

Most people, if they thought about this question, would probably identify science’s method as its distinguishing feature. It turns out, however, that those who have examined the methods that scientists have historically employed have been unable to agree upon a universal method used by scientists.

Granted, if you open a textbook on science, you will probably find a section which describes a so-called “scientific method.” A simplified version of that method might go as follows: define a problem to be investigated, form a hypothesis, or an statement that can be tested, collect data, or make observations bearing upon the hypothesis, and draw conclusions. Many of us were introduced to this method when we were schoolchildren.

What is puzzling, however, is that there have been some major advances that have occurred in science that have in no way been associated with this textbook method. In fact, there are some very interesting accounts of exemplary scientists of the caliber of Galileo and Newton behaving seemingly unscientifically, arguing against the evidence of our senses, or using clever manipulative techniques in order to win the support of the scientific community to their dubious theories. Scientific advances that occur under such circumstances are difficult to defend by appeal to a special scientific method.

For example, it is generally assumed that scientists take observable facts seriously and build theories consistent with them. But history reveals otherwise.

One of the earliest debates in the history of science concerned the question of whether the earth on which we live is stationary, or in motion around its axis and around the sun. While it may be difficult for us to imagine today, there were plausible arguments against a moving earth that were based upon appeals to the evidence of our senses. After all, it is impossible for us to have knowledge of the motion of our planet using earthbound sensory experience alone.

In an intriguing passage from his historic book, Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems, Galileo praises Copernicus and the astronomer mathematician Aristarchus of Samos (310-230 B.C.) the historical proponents of a moving earth cosmology, for their ability “to make reason so conquer sense that, in defiance of the latter, the former became mistress of their belief.”

The interesting point is that Galileo presents us with a seemingly paradoxical view of scientists needing to overcome the evidence of their senses by reason, in order to arrive at a more accurate understanding of our world. Episodes like this create problems for philosophers who wish to understand the distinguishing characteristics of science. Questions concerning the nature of science constitute an ongoing debate that is unlikely to be settled anytime soon.