Labouring the difference between science and the humanities has long been a fashion, and has become a bore. The method of problem solving, the method of conjecture and refutation, is practised by both. It is practised in reconstructing a damaged text as well as in constructing a theory of radioactivity. [185]
Tag: method
The unity of the sciences
The only way either to establish or to refute consilience is by methods developed in the natural sciences — not, I hasten to add, an effort led by scientists, or frozen in mathematical abstraction, but rather one allegiant to the habits of thought that have worked so well in exploring the material universe.
The belief in the possibility of consilience beyond science and across the great branches of learning is not yet science. It is a metaphysical world view, and a minority one at that, shared by only a few scientists and philosophers. It cannot be proved with logic from first principles or grounded in any definitive set of empirical tests, at least not by any yet conceived. Its best support is no more than an extrapolation of the consistent past success of the natural sciences. Its surest test will be its effectiveness in the social sciences and humanities. The strongest appeal of consilience is in the prospect of intellectual adventure and, given even modest success, the value of understanding the human condition with a higher degree of certainty. [7]
A brilliant hindsight into science
[Feyerabend:] Anarchismus heißt also nicht: überhaupt keine Methode, sondern alle Methoden, nur unter verschiedenen Umständen verschiedene Methoden angewendet (einmal ist es besser, dogmatisch zu sein; dann wieder ist es besser, auf Falsifikationen zu achten; dann wieder ist es besser eine ad hoc Hypothese nach der anderen zu verwenden; dann wieder ist es besser zu schwindeln, und so weiter und so fort). Und wenn Du mich fragst, ob es allgemeine Regeln gibt, die es uns gestatten zu entscheiden, wann welche Methode angewendet werden muß, dann sage ich nein, denn die Richtigkeit eines Vorgehens stellt sich oft erst hinterher heraus, 300 Jahre vielleicht nachdem man begonnen hat zu tun was man „nach guter Methode“ nicht hätte tun dürfen. Gerade der Umstand, daß die Brauchbarkeit, die Rationalität gewisser Verfahrensweisen erst auf Grund von Information entschieden werden kan, die Jahrhunderte später kommt, die aber nicht gekommen wäre, hätte man nicht die in Frage stehende Methode verwendet, zeigt, daß es ein elender Simplizismus ist, wenn man versucht, gewisse einfache Regeln (sei kritisch! etc.) zur Grundlage aller Verfahrensweisen zu machen. … Was lernt man nun am besten in der Wissenschaftstheorie? Man sieht sich am besten die verschiedenen Schachzüge an, die in verschiedenen historischen Situationen zum Erfolg geführt haben, und übt die eigene Intuition, indem man sich an Hand neuer wissenschaftlicher Probleme überlegt, welche Methode wohl hier die geeigneteste wäre. [144-5]
Feyerabend’s faith in science
[Feyerabend:] Ein Romantiker bin ich schon immer gewesen, und nun greift das eben auch auf die Wissenschaftstheorie über und auf die Philosophie im allgemeinen. Daß der Popper keine bestimmten Regeln hat, und daß daher mein Angriff auf bestimmte Regeln ins Leere schlägt, kann ich nicht zugeben, denn beim Popper kann man ja doch nicht tun was man will (dann wäre er ja ein Anarchist). Gewisse Einschränkungen gibt es da schon, zum Beispiel, daß man Argumente gegen einen Standpunkt in Betracht ziehen soll, daß man auf Kritik hören soll und seine Ohren vor ihr nicht verschließen soll, und so weiter. Nun scheint es mir aber, wenn man auf die Wissenschaftsgeschichte blickt, und vor allem auf das optische Beispiel des Galilei, das ich in Empiricism ii behandle, daß diese Regeln noch viel zu restriktiv sind, und das sagt Galilei auch selbst: er preist Kopernikus (auch Aristarch), daß sie den Glauben an ihre Ideen trotz aller Gegenargumente beibehalten haben und diese Ideen nicht aufgaben. Also, was Galilei sagt, ist: im Falle der Kopernikanischen Theorie war es gut nicht auf Argumente, sondern auf den Glauben zu hören. Das ist bei Popper verboten (oder bist Du etwa anderer Meinung? Die Form der Argumente ist dabei gar nicht wesentlich, die kann sich ändern, wie Du ja auch selbst sagst; aber Galilei sagt, daß was auch immer die Form der Argumente sei, man sie manchmal beiseite schieben muß, und man muß dann auf einem Glauben beharren). Nun weiß ich sehr wohl, daß Popper selbst dieses Vorgehen des Galilei kennt, und zitiert, als sei es mit seinem System vereinbar. Aber das ist eben nicht der Fall. In der Praxis preist Popper manchmal Methoden, die seiner Theorie („höre auf Argumente“; „nimm kritische Bemerkungen ernst“ etc. etc.) widersprechen, denn er ist ja doch von der tatsächlichen Wissenschaft zu sehr beeindruckt, als daß er es wagen würde, den Galilei etwa zu kritisieren. Aber die Geschichte paßt ja nicht in seine Theorie, die noch immer Einschränkungen predigt, wenn auch diese Einschränkungen schon sehr allgemein geworden sind, und viel weniger tyrannisch, als die Einschränkungen der Induktivisten. [133]
The most precious human tool
There is no other species on Earth that does science. It is, so far, entirely a human invention, evolved by natural selection in the cerebral cortex for one simple reason: it works. It is not perfect. It can be misused. It is only a tool. But it is by far the best tool we have, self-correcting, ongoing, applicable to everything. It has two rules. First: there are no sacred truths; all assumptions must be critically examined; arguments from authority are worthless. Second: whatever is inconsistent with the facts must be discarded or revised. We must understand the Cosmos as it is and not confuse how it is with how we wish it to be. The obvious is sometimes false; the unexpected is sometimes true. Humans everywhere share the same goals when the context is large enough. And the study of the Cosmos provides the largest possible context. [276]
The social character of scientific method
The sociology of knowledge is not only self-destructive, not only a rather gratifying object of socio-analysis, it also shows an astounding failure to understand precisely its main subject, the social aspects of knowledge, or rather, of scientific method. It looks upon science or knowledge as a process in the mind or ‘consciousness’ of the individual scientist, or perhaps as the product of such a process If considered in this way, what we call scientific objectivity must indeed become completely ununderstandable, or even impossible; and not only in the social or political sciences, where class interests and similar hidden motives may play a part, but just as much in the natural sciences. Everyone who has an inkling of the history of the natural sciences is aware of the passionate tenacity which characterizes many of its quarrels. No amount of political partiality can influence political theories more strongly than the partiality shown by some natural scientists in favour of their intellectual offspring. If scientific objectivity were founded, as the sociologistic theory of knowledge naively assumes, upon the individual scientist’s impartiality or objectivity, then we should have to say good-bye to it. Indeed, we must be in a way more radically sceptical than the sociology of knowledge; for there is no doubt that we are all suffering under our own system of prejudices (or ‘total ideologies’, if this term is preferred); that we all take many things as self-evident, that we accept them uncritically and even with the naive and cocksure belief that criticism is quite unnecessary; and scientists are no exception to this rule, even though they may have superficially purged themselves from some of their prejudices in their particular field. But they have not purged themselves by socio-analysis or any similar method; they have not attempted to climb to a higher plane from which they can understand, socio-analyse, and expurgate their ideological follies. For by making their minds more ‘objective’ they could not possibly attain to what we call ‘scientific objectivity’. No, what we usually mean by this term rests on different grounds. It is a matter of scientific method. And, ironically enough, objectivity is closely bound up with the social aspect of scientific method, with the fact that science and scientific objectivity do not (and cannot) result from the attempts of an individual scientist to be ‘objective’, but from the friendly-hostile co-operation of many scientists. Scientific objectivity can be described as the inter-subjectivity of scientific method. But this social aspect of science is almost entirely neglected by those who call themselves sociologists of knowledge.
Two aspects of the method of the natural sciences are of importance in this connection. Together they constitute what I may term the ‘public character of scientific method’. First, there is something approaching free criticism. A scientist may offer his theory with the full conviction that it is unassailable. But this will not impress his fellow-scientists and competitors; rather it challenges them: they know that the scientific attitude means criticizing everything, and they are little deterred even by authorities. Secondly, scientists try to avoid talking at cross-purposes. (I may remind the reader that I am speaking of the natural sciences, but a part of modern economics may be included.) They try very seriously to speak one and the same language, even if they use different mother tongues. In the natural sciences this is achieved by recognizing experience as the impartial arbiter of their controversies. When speaking of ‘experience’ I have in mind experience of a ‘public’ character, like observations, and experiments, as opposed to experience in the sense of more ‘private’ aesthetic or religious experience; and an experience is‘public’ if everybody who takes the trouble can repeat it. In order to avoid speaking at cross-purposes, scientists try to express their theories in such a form that they can be tested, i.e. refuted (or else corroborated) by such experience.
This is what constitutes scientific objectivity. Everyone who has learned the technique of understanding and testing scientific theories can repeat the experiment and judge for himself. In spite of this, there will always be some who come to judgements which are partial, or even cranky. This cannot be helped, and it does not seriously disturb the working of the various social institutions which have been designed to further scientific objectivity and criticism; for instance the laboratories, the scientific periodicals, the congresses. This aspect of scientific method shows what can be achieved by institutions designed to make public control possible, and by the open expression of public opinion, even if this is limited to a circle of specialists. Only political power, when it is used to suppress free criticism, or when it fails to protect it, can impair the functioning of these institutions, on which all progress, scientific, technological, and political, ultimately depends.
In order to elucidate further still this sadly neglected aspect of scientific method, we may consider the idea that it is advisable to characterize science by its methods rather than by its results.
Let us first assume that a clairvoyant produces a book by dreaming it, or perhaps by automatic writing. Let us assume, further, that years later as a result of recent and revolutionary scientific discoveries, a great scientist (who has never seen that book) produces one precisely the same. Or to put it differently, we assume that the clairvoyant ‘saw’ a scientific book which could not then have been produced by a scientist owing to the fact that many relevant discoveries were still unknown at that date. We now ask: is it advisable to say that the clairvoyant produced a scientific book? We may assume that, if submitted at the time to the judgement of competent scientists, it would have been described as partly ununderstandable, and partly fantastic; thus we shall have to say that the clairvoyant’s book was not when written a scientific work, since it was not the result of scientific method. I shall call such a result, which, though in agreement with some scientific results, is not the product of scientific method, a piece of ‘revealed sicence’.
In order to apply these considerations to the problem of the publicity of scientific method, let us assume that Robinson Crusoe succeeded in building on his island physical and chemical laboratories, astronomical observatories, etc., and in writing a great number of papers, based throughout on observation and experiment. Let us even assume that he had unlimited time at his disposal, and that he succeeded in constructing and in describing scientific systems which actually coincide with the results accepted at present by our own scientists. Considering the character of this Crusonian science, some people will be inclined, at first sight, to assert that it is real science and not ‘revealed science’. And, no doubt, it is very much more like science than the scientific book which was revealed to the clairvoyant, for Robinson Crusoe applied a good deal of scientific method. And yet, I assert that this Crusonian science is still of the ‘revealed’ kind; that there is an element of scientific method missing, and consequently, that the fact that Crusoe arrived at our results is nearly as accidental and miraculous as it was in the case of the clairvoyant. For there is nobody but himself to check his results; nobody but himself to correct those prejudices which are the unavoidable consequence of his peculiar mental history; nobody to help him to get rid of that strange blindness concerning the inherent possibilities of our own results which is a consequence of the fact that most of them are reached through comparatively irrelevant approaches. And concerning his scientific papers it is only in attempts to explain one’s work to somebody who has not done it that we can acquire those standards of clear and reasoned communication which too are part of scientific method. In one point—a comparatively unimportant one—is the ‘revealed’ character of the Crusonian science particularly obvious; I mean Crusoe’s discovery of his ‘personal equation’ (for we must assume that he made this discovery), of the characteristic personal reaction-time affecting his astronomical observations. Of course it is conceivable that he discovered, say, changes in his reaction-time, and that he was led, in this way, to make allowances for it. But if we compare this way of finding out about reaction-times, and the way in which it was discovered in ‘public’ science—through the contradiction between the results of various observers—then the ‘revealed’ character of Robinson Crusoe’s science becomes manifest.
To sum up these considerations, it may be said that what we call ‘scientific objectivity’ is not a product of the individual scientist’s impartiality, but a product of the social or public character of scientific method; and the individual scientist’s impartiality is, so far as it exists, not the source but rather the result of this socially or institutionally organized objectivity of science. [ch. 23, 488-92]
Measurement in science
[I]n genuine science, one can claim to have measured a quantity only when one has an explanatory theory of how and why the measurement procedure should reveal its value, and with what accuracy. [317]
The role of explanation in science
In general, when theories are easily variable in the sense I have described, experimental testing is almost useless for correcting their errors. I call such theories bad explanations. Being proved wrong by experiment, and changing the theories to other bad explanations, does not get their holders one jot closer to the truth.
Because explanation plays this central role in science, and because testability is of little use in the case of bad explanations, I myself prefer to call myths, superstitions and similar theories unscientilic even when they make testable predictions. But it does not matter what terminology you use, so long as it does not lead you to conclude that there is something worthwhile about the Persephone myth, or the prophet’s apocalyptic theory or the gamblers delusion, just because it is testable. Nor is a person capable of making progress merely by virtue of being willing to drop a theory when it is refuted: one must also be seeking a better explanation of the relevant phenomena. That is the scientific frame of mind. …
The quest for good explanations is, I believe, the basic regulating principle not only of science, but of the Enlightenment generally. It is the feature that distinguishes those approaches to knowledge from all others, and it implies all those other conditions for scientific progress I have discussed: It trivially implies that prediction alone is insufficient. Somewhat less trivially, it leads to the rejection of authority, because if we adopt a theory on authority, that means that we would also have accepted a range of different theories on authority. And hence it also implies the need for a tradition of criticism. It also implies a methodological rule – a criterion for reality – namely that we should conclude that a particular thing is real if and only if it figures in our best explanation of something. [22-3]
A social demarcation of science
What characterises science on this view is a social decision to allow the world to correct our ideas, and collateral decisions to eschew attempts to insulate those ideas from inconsistency and counter-example. Those decisions are implemented socially in institutions that entrench rules of procedure or method. Thus and only thus is a demarcation established between folk wisdom, social and political opinions and the like, all equally institutional, and science. The difference is not in the results – the claims about the world that issue from time to time from actors in the institutions. Indeed, these may at times look (misleadingly) similar. It lies in the methods by which work proceeds, where method here is construed not simply as a bunch of methodological rules, which is how it is usually presented, but as the deliberate choice and tailoring of methodological rules to specified aims. The choice is institution-building rather than personal. Science is to be identified with an institutionalised aim or set of aims, together with the institutional rules and practices that have been devised to foster pursuit of these aims. These rules serve specifiable purposes and are subject to revision depending upon whether they accomplish such purposes. (Yet Popper did not discuss the reform of scientific institutions, even though he sometimes deplored what science had become (Popper 1972).) It is these rules that enable science to pursue the goals of being objective, realistic, in touch with experience, explanatory, progressive, and causal. Obedience to these rules is what makes the institutions of science different from other social institutions, including those of pseudo-science, magic, logic, and mathematics. It is not doctrines, ideas, or sentences that are scientific or non-scientific; it is certain institutionalised ways of handling doctrines, ideas, and sentences that are scientific or non-scientific. The outcome of this effort is not guaranteed truths, but hypotheses that stand at the end of a chain of conjecture and refutatìon. The main result of the investigation is that we have a deeper and more humbling sense of the underlying problems than that with which we started. [20]
Faites vos jeux
Popper discovered that in purely logical or methodological terms the problem of demarcation was insoluble. Yet the distinctiveness of science as intellectual activity was an undeniable (social) fact. It followed that the problem of demarcation was misformulated and needed to be recast. Only by taking account of the fact that there were inescapable choices involved in methodology, choices that structured the social institution(s) of science, was Popper able to get around the fundamental logical impasse. [13]
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