Thursday, September 30, 2010

We scientists are freaks! - Part 2

So to pick up the thread where I left off ...

Although I've dedicated my life to becoming a meteorologist and contributing to the process of understanding the atmosphere, I've had many other interests: geology (esp. volcanology), astronomy, arachnology (esp. spiders), history, drawing and painting, photography, journalism, certain sports, genealogy, and so on. I couldn't make all these interests the basis for my career, but I've never lost interest in them. In many ways, I see connections among all my diverse interests - as I see them, they're not separate, isolated boxes, but rather are intertwined, as described so brilliantly by Douglas Hofstadter in Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid. In effect, they're a mostly invisible part of my meteorological science ...

Science and art are very different human endeavors - what sets science apart from all other things that humans do is that we scientists have a very clear way to define progress. That is, science is focused on understanding (the root of the word science is from the Latin word for knowledge), and to gain understanding we have to solve problems, to answer questions. Science can measure its progress by the ability to provide solutions to previously unsolved problems; solutions that can work in a very tangible, even practical way, and which help to gain new understanding - understanding that did not exist before that solution was developed. Modern technology is built on the framework provided by scientific understanding. To be ignorant about science is to be ignorant of technology. To be ignorant of technology is to be ignorant about the modern world. To be ignorant about the modern world is to be irresponsible! I've worked hard all my life to find out how little I truly know. I resent those who come by their ignorance the easy way! Ignorance is not equivalent to stupidity, but to be willfully ignorant is an act of stupidity.

Although we could attempt to measure progress by means of the changes that have gone on in, say, the world of art, those changes don't represent solutions to heretofore unsolved problems. Does cubism represent progress over impressionism in painting? They're different approaches to painting, and according to one's personal taste, some might see cubism as progress, but others might dispute that cubism was progress at all! Much of modern art is only understandable when seen as a statement about the styles of art that preceded it. To the non-artist, such an abstraction is opaque and can take away no clear message from such art.

I once saw a display of art where one artist had taken a toilet, broken it into several large pieces, and mounted the fragments on a stand. I have problems with this art for at least two reasons: (1) there is no craftsmanship required to break a toilet into pieces, and (2) whatever message the artist may have been trying to express is pretty difficult to fathom. This sort of 'art' doesn't succeed in conveying much of a message to most of us, except perhaps a few "illuminati" who know the artist. It's a sort of 'inside joke' on the rest of us - the ignorant masses. Much of modern art (atonal, arythmic music, paint splashed randomly on canvas, plays that seek to have no characters and tell no story, etc.) doesn't stand on its own. Such art can only be seen as a some sort of statement within the context of earlier art.

In contrast with such art, when I listen to classical music, or I see an impressionist painting, or watch a professionally-done play (or movie), there's both craftsmanship on the part of the artist and an emotional response associated with the experience. I get a very direct sense of connection with the artist. Perhaps that sense is only an illusion, but I believe I feel something of what the artist must have felt when creating the work. The best art, in my view then, is art that anyone can understand and which triggers an emotional response. This sense of connection can span hundreds of years, can cross cultural barriers, and spans the globe when the art is capable of standing on its own.

Science, like art, involves communication. But scientific communication is dependent on expressing ourselves in a way that provides an accurate understanding of our ideas. Scientific communication is an art form, seeking to say what we intend, and avoid any misinterpretation. Unfortunately, this can make scientific papers very hard to read and comprehend. New terms must be defined very carefully. New concepts must be explained so as to avoid misinterpretation. Interpretations must include appropriate qualification, to preclude any implication of undeserved generality. The language of science is laced with jargon - this also makes it difficult for non-scientists to understand the communication between scientists, which can sound like some sort of secret code. The coding is not generally held as a secret, but it takes time and effort to read it.

During the education process I went through, I often had a sense of joy and wonder when I encountered the ideas of earlier scientists. The insight I had gained by reading about them was inspiring and crossed time and space to dazzle me with its brilliant light (the cartoon cliche about a light bulb above someone's head is not without value as an analogy). In the process I experienced an echo of the insight when it first was created by someone, perhaps long ago. The idea may have been old by the time I read it, but it was very new to me! I could only imagine at the time what it would be like to be the very first person to have such an insight.

We scientists discuss our ideas at conferences, over the Internet, over the phone, and so on, but mostly in journals that record what we have learned at regular intervals. Scientific journals are not at all a record of established facts - journals are more like diaries, recording the ideas we had along the way, in order that we all can consider those ideas within the continuing discussion that is science. Journals are more akin to a heavily-moderated forum on the Internet.

The only goal of any scientist is to gain new understanding, whereby one person's idea can inspire another to pursue a related idea and move everyone forward in the process. Science is not at all a mere collection of facts. Its ideas are always provisional - the best we might have at a particular moment, but always subject to revision by someone. Science uses logic - the ideas must satisfy logical criteria - but the basic task of science is to subject our ideas to creatively-inspired tests (which also involves developing new methods for evaluating the data from observational tests). Evidence coming from those tests can be used to evaluate competing ideas, thereby allowing the profession to arrive at a consensus regarding our understanding. That consensus is always changing, dramatically on occasions but more normally by small increments, as we develop new ideas and obtain new evidence. Science is evidence-based. The only ideas of value to science are those logically consistent ideas that can be tested on the basis of evidence.

Again, a pause ... more to come ...

3 comments:

Dan D. said...

Interesting stuff, Chuck. You've hit on something I've been thinking about quite a lot lately. I agree with you that, amongst all the other intellectual disciplines of humanity, measuring progress in science is probably the easiest and most straightforward, at least to explain in words. But, then again, we are biased, because we in fact are scientists.

You bring up the difficulty of measuring progress in art as an example. It certainly seems, on the face of it, that shifting opinions, personal preferences, and the like, make even the notion of "progress" in art dubious. However, you yourself brought up two criteria that I think most artists would agree does measure progress in art: namely, does a particular piece of art bring forth an emotional response on the part of the viewer, and does it spark a feeling of understanding on and identification with the artist? To this I might add such things as technical sophistication and creativity. Obviously these are fraught with their own ambiguities, but taken together, I think they constitute at least a shell of how one might measure "artistic progress".

Similarly, how does one measure progress in mathematics, philosophy, or even theology? I'm convinced that all of these disciplines do indeed progress in some sense, but it may be difficult to articulate just how they progress, especially coming from someone who has trained themselves to think like a scientist. But, considering that even the definition and scope of science itself can and is debated (and by very intelligent, rational people), I'm not sure we actually have as much of an advantage as we think we do in this department.

What I mean is, I think that we scientists can have a tendency to assume that science is in some way supreme, and that all other intellectual disciplines have to pass through our gates and play by our rules before they are approved as "legitimate". I think the question of progress is one of these reasons. Because it seems so straightforward (to we scientists) to provide a definition of progress in science, we can start to think that other disciplines aren't as important or useful to humanity. I think that this would be a mistake, just as much as I think it is a mistake and travesty that other intellectual disciplines often do the same in regard to science.

Personally, I think that the last century or so has seen a large sundering of the various intellectual disciplines to the point where we barely talk to each other. Those in the humanities can tend to ignore science, while scientists often look down their noses at those in the humanities. Similarly, some theologians complain about scientists treading on their turf, claiming that they alone have the keys to such things as ultimate causes and the "why" questions, while scientists in turn have a tendency to dismiss theology as outmoded at best, and completely illegitimate at worst. Obviously, I'm exaggerating a bit here, but only for emphasis. I hope you see my point.

I personally think that it doesn't have to be this way. All these intellectual disciplines have existed since the human race first started using fire to cook their food (and probably before that), and I see no reason why they shouldn't continue to exist together, and why we shouldn't talk more. And, if we scientists consider our discipline to have certain advantages, having risen to prominence in our modern age, what better reason than for us to take the first step in starting these conversations, instead of continuing to distance ourselves from our fellow intellectuals? Perhaps we can help the artist to be a better artist, the philosopher to be a better philospher, and--dare I suggest it--the theologian to be a better theologian?

Chuck Doswell said...

That's a long comment, Dan!

I think your proposal for progress in art just doesn't work. Are we to expect emotional responses of increasing intensity as art "progresses"? Your criteria might work for individuals, but they won't for any art as a whole. Artists can improve, of course. But is some new artistic form measurably better than what preceded it? Or is it just a matter of opinion. I believe it's the latter.

I'm most definitely not saying that because we can mark progress in a clearly-identifiable way, that this implies the "supremacy" of science compared to other disciplines. You're misreading my blog, if you think it suggests that.

And one point in my essay has been to suggest that if I can find connections between science and other disciplines, then anyone can. I would be among the first to say that we need diverse disciplines to speak to each other! But for us as scientists to suggest that artists could become better artists by listening to us? If I were an artist, I'd find that pretty patronizing! We can talk about connections between art and science, of course, but I'd never propose I know how to improve someone's art just because I'm a scientist.

Dan D. said...

"I'm most definitely not saying that because we can mark progress in a clearly-identifiable way, that this implies the "supremacy" of science compared to other disciplines. You're misreading my blog, if you think it suggests that.

And one point in my essay has been to suggest that if I can find connections between science and other disciplines, then anyone can. I would be among the first to say that we need diverse disciplines to speak to each other! But for us as scientists to suggest that artists could become better artists by listening to us? If I were an artist, I'd find that pretty patronizing! We can talk about connections between art and science, of course, but I'd never propose I know how to improve someone's art just because I'm a scientist. "

Sorry about the long comment; I didn't realize how long it had become until after submitting it!

First, good points about assigning progress in art. I'll have to think about that.

Second, let me be clear, I wasn't suggesting that you were claiming that science was supreme, only that I have encountered elsewhere such sentiments related to the progressive nature of science. I didn't get that impression from your blog, and I truly apologize that I wasn't clear about that. I mainly brought it up to see what you thought about it.

Finally, as far as my last paragraph is concerned, I can see how it sounds patronizing after re-reading it. Ironically, it came across the opposite of what I intended, since my position is most emphatically not that we scientists are supreme in this sense, or that we can improve art *just because* we are scientists. Rather, I was attempting to merely suggest that we look for ways that we might help. I suppose, to balance it out, I should have mentioned that perhaps artists, philosophers, and others could look for ways to improve science using insights from their own disciplines. I don't think this is necessarily patronizing in either direction if done in a humble, sincere manner.