Comment
Hawking started it
Dylan
Evans
Thursday March 10, 2005
The Guardian
During
the 1990s there was a minor revolution in the publishing industry:
books about science became popular. They never overtook fiction, of
course, and never succeeded in taking more than a small share of the
non-fiction market. But, within its own modest terms of reference,
science writing did experience a period of substantial growth.
It
all started with Stephen Hawking, whose first popular book, A Brief
History of Time, hit the bookshops in 1988. Very soon, others
(myself
included) jumped on the bandwagon, and popular science soon gained its
own section in many bookshops.
With
the boom, inevitably, there came a torrent of rubbish. The stylistic
innovations of the trendsetters soon became, in the hands of the
disciples, stale recipes, recycled over and over in formulaic and
uninspiring ways. Even the titles began to seem repetitive: The Panda's
Thumb, Galileo's Finger, Einstein's Brain ... What a pity nobody had
the chutzpah to write a book about Newton's penis.
A
decade and a half later, there are signs that the popular science boom
is running out of steam. Unlike scientists, the public has a limited
appetite for facts. That is, to my mind, a healthy state of affairs.
The eternal curiosity of the scientist may appear touching, like the
enthusiasm of a schoolboy for collecting conkers, but what is cute in a
child is often quite pathological in an adult.
Nobody
could put it better than Oscar Wilde. In his essay The Decay of Lying,
he decries what he calls the "monstrous worship of facts". There is
something truly monstrous about scientific curiosity because it seems
to extend to facts something they do not deserve. Facts must be
respected but never worshipped.
What
did Wilde mean by "worship of facts"? I think he meant an attitude that
regards facts as valuable in themselves, rather in the way that a miser
regards money. The scientist spends his life accumulating facts without
caring what their value is - that is, what the facts "mean". Unlike the
engineer, the scientist does not necessarily want to do anything with
the facts he collects. He just wants to gather more of them up in his
storehouse of personal knowledge.
This
is why Trivial Pursuit is a great metaphor for science. In that game,
players compete by answering questions about all sorts of facts, from
facts about sport to facts about geography. Science is similar, except
that all the questions are about one particular sort of fact, namely
laws of nature, and the various pieces of evidence relevant to these
laws. Scientists spend their working lives playing this restricted
version of the game, without ever becoming bored or admitting that it
is trivial. Each day, they turn over another card with the same
undiminished excitement. "Oh my!" one can hear them exclaim as they
read out the next question: "How does local accumulation of the plant
growth regulator auxin mediate pattern formation in Arabidopsis roots
and influence outgrowth of lateral root- and shoot-derived primordia?"
And off they go to discover the answer.
Wilde
was right. There is something truly monstrous about scientific
curiosity. It is myopic, forgetting the wider context of enquiry that
endows facts with meaning. This wider context of enquiry is,
ultimately, a philosophical one, in which the burning questions concern
the purpose of human existence in general, and the purpose of one's own
life in particular.
It
is not that scientists should abandon science for philosophy, but they
should at least put their questions in perspective. There is nothing
wrong with dedicating your life to collecting rather trivial facts,
just as there is nothing wrong with earning a living by cleaning
toilets. But nobody pretends that cleaning toilets is the most noble
activity to which man can aspire, while there are many who say that
about science.
Scientists
have vested interests in persuading other people to share their views
about the transcendent significance of their research. There are lots
of scientists chasing a limited amount of funding, and one way to grab
a larger slice of the pie is to make exaggerated claims about the
importance of one's own field of study. But the end of the boom in
science writing shows that the public are getting wise to - and weary
of - the overblown rhetoric.
I
hope now that the flood of popular science books will go back to being
the small but higher quality trickle it used to be. And I hope the
non-fiction market will now begin to see, at long last, some more
profound reflections on what the facts mean.
Responses: (names withheld)
Dear Dylan Evans,
I have submitted a letter
to The Guardian re. your article as above. The Panda's Thumb was being
read by my 'A' level students before you had left school, let alone
started studying science, and long before 1988. I think an apology in
Corrections and Clarifications might be in order!
I may not like what you
get wrong about Stephen Jay Gould, but I think I agree with your view
of the US; I suspect SJG would agree with both of us.
Best wishes, xxx
Dear xxx,
Yes, you're right to point out that Gould was writing long before
Hawking. In the origina (uncut) version of my article, I did
point out that there was a long tradition of science writing before
Hawking - what changed after the publication of "A Brief History of
Time" in 1988 was that lots of lesser writers jumped on the bandwagon.
Thanks for letting me know about your letter to the Guardian.
Best wishes,
Dylan
Dear Dylan Evans,
I read your article in
today's Guardian, and I think you are totally wrong. The general public
does have a near-inexhaustible curiosity about science, it's just that
there are so few scientists who are good communicators, and so few
communicators who are good scientists. That's why you get so much crap,
because there's a market and not enough good stuff to satify the demand.
Instead of bitching why
don't you actually write 'Newton's Penis'? He seems to have died a
virgin, and most of the guys he hated most seemed to have been
fathering bastards on their maidservants without a care in the world,
so it would be a rich field for conjecture. If you called it 'Newton's
Nob' you'd even sell it to all the chavs, scallies and geezers out
there.
Best Regards, xxx
Dear xxx,
Thanks for your email. I may take your advice, and write
"Newton's Penis" - why not? As you say, it would be rich field
for conjecture - and for illustrating the law of gravity....
Best wishes,
Dylan
Dear Mr Evans
To judge by your article "Hawking started it" you've
entirely misunderstood how science works. No science is about the
collection facts, except in its very early stages. It's about
construction of theories to explain facts and making predictions to be
tested against facts. Until facts can be explained by its
theories, a
subject isn't a science but is "mere stamp collecting".
I could explain more but on the evidence of your article, I find it
hard to believe that you are genuinely a scientist or an engineer of
any kind. I'm genuinely surprised that you could have reached your
present position while apparently being so ignorant or unreflective of
the nature of your undertaking. How have you got away with it?
Regards, xxx
Dear xxx,
As I stated in the article, there are various kinds of facts. The
kind of facts you refer to - that is, bits of empirical evidence - are
not the only kind. Laws of nature are facts too. Theories are
hypotheses about laws of nature. Thus theories, if true, are
facts. Hence, even on your account of science, it is all about
facts.
Best wishes,
Dylan
Dear Dylan
That argument is unworthy of a poor undergraduate. By trivial
extension, there is nothing in the world apart from facts; thus all
human knowledge and experience is "facts". Without distinction
into different kinds of fact that tells us precisely nothing about the
world. Scientific and other judgement requires the ability
usefully to separate those facts into different categories. To
concatenate the different types of fact is a mark of a confused mind.
Regards
Dear xxx,
There is nothing in what I said to licence the inference you
draw. Yes, all human knowledge consists of facts (this is a
tautology, as any philosophical dictionary will tell you), but thiere
is more to the world than facts - there are values too. And these
are far more important than facts!
Best wishes,
Dylan
Dear Dylan
You agree "all human knowledge consists of facts". Why then did
your
article single out science as referring only to facts without making
clear that, in common with any form of knowledge, it could do nothing
else?
Also, you claim that values aren't facts. You must be careful to
differentiate between the kind of fact to which you refer. Values
are
views about the world. A view is a subjective fact, whether or
not it
corresponds to something objective (whether it does or doesn't is
a
separate fact). Therefore values are facts.
As we agree (I think), it's trivially true that the world consists of
facts. To point out that scientific knowledge consists of facts
is
equally trivial. Therefore, to single out science, to imply that
its
reliance on facts is in any way special to science and then to sneer at
it on such false grounds seems to be deliberately derogatory.
Regards, xxx
Dear xxx,
The reason I singled out science is because I think scientists have a
tendency to pretend that the facts that THEY pursue have greater
significance than they really do have, whereas other fact-seekers are
usually more aware of the limited significance of all facts.
I strongly disagree with your claim that values are facts. There
are no such things as "subjective facts", to use your expression.
Facts are just truths, but and truth is always an objective
matter. It is objectively true - or objectively false - that God
exists, for example. I think that God doesn't exist, but if he
does, then I am simply wrong. My view on the matter is never a
fact - and certainly not a "subjective fact" - but if it is true, then
it could be said that my view corresponds with the facts.
My values are in a completely different ballpark. They are
entirely subjective, and there is nothing objective that they could
correspond with or fail to correspond with. They are simply the
expression of my preferences, ideals, and ethical principles.
I hope this clarifies my position, and thank you for helping me to
clarify it.
Best wishes,
Dylan
This page was last updated: 11 March 2005.
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