The Meta Philosophy of
Science
[From the author's Preface in Dr. Tom Van
Flandern's Dark Matter, Missing Planets and New Comets
(1993; 2nd ed. 1999), available in the store at this site; updated
2002/05/05]:
I
began to form some hypotheses about what was wrong with these
other bodies of knowledge [outside astronomy], and why. I
particularly noted a regular practice of not re-examining the
fundamental assumptions underlying a theory once it gained
"accepted" status, almost no matter how incompatible some new
observation or experiment might be. And I saw powerful vested
interests in a "status quo" develop around certain accepted
theories.
It
gradually became clear that a lot of people had a lot to lose if
an accepted theory or practice were challenged: the authors of the
original theory, whose names had become well-known; all those who
published papers which reference or depend on the theory; journal
editors and referees who have made decisions or criticized other
works based on a theory; funding agencies which have paid for
research which pre-supposes a theory; instrument builders and
experiment designers who spend career time testing ideas which
spring from a theory; journalists and writers whose publications
have featured or promoted a theory; teachers and interested
members of the public who have learned a theory, been impressed by
the wonder of it, and who have no wish to have to teach or learn a
new theory; and students, who need to find a job in their field of
training.
It
has been my sad observation that by mid-career there are very few
professionals left truly working for the advancement of science,
as opposed to the advancement of self. And given enough people
with strong enough interests, professional peer pressure takes
over from there. Peer pressure in science, as elsewhere in
society, consists of alternately attacking and ignoring the people
who advocate a contrary idea, and discrediting their motives
and/or competence, in order to achieve conformity. Even when it is
not effective directly, it is usually successful at ensuring that
the contrary person or idea gains few allies, and remains
isolated. In short, those who may suspect the need for a radical
change in an accepted theory have no interests or motivations as
strong as those supporting the status quo. And members of the
former group usually lack the background and confidence to
challenge the latter group, who are the "recognized experts" in
the field and well-able to defend their own theories.
As if there weren't
already enough inertia to major changes of models, I see yet
another phenomenon -- new to our era of rapid progress in science
-- which militates against change even in the face of overwhelming
need for it. Few scientists consider themselves qualified very far
outside their own areas of expertise. Since each expert can
account for only a small portion of the data dealing with a model,
he defers to the other experts to support the model in other
areas. Few, if any, scientists have the breadth of knowledge to
see the full picture for a given model. So the model remains
supported because many individual authorities support it, none of
whom have the expertise to criticize the model overall, and all of
whom have the utmost confidence in the others collectively.
Authorities can continue to multiply indefinitely, with no one
taking responsibility for integrating all their combined
knowledge. As a result, the existing models get perpetuated
regardless of merit or the extent of counter-evidence, because "so
many experts can't all be wrong." Thus each expert is persuaded to
force-fit his own data into the accepted model, oblivious that the
others are doing the same.
However, I had learned by then to start being more open-minded
toward new ideas, no longer dismissing them out of hand without
strong enough reason that even the idea's proposer could
understand. Whereas before it was rarely "worth my time" to deal
with proposed new ideas, I now felt quite the opposite. This was
chiefly because even in the process of proving that a new idea was
false, I learned a great deal about the fundamentals underlying
the challenged theory. I came to see the soft underbelly of many
theories with a tough outer shell. I found a lot of unsuspected
weaknesses.
The
first challenging new idea which I entertained as seriously viable
was P.A.M. Dirac's proposal of the variability of the universal
gravitational "constant." I performed a test of the idea using
observations of the Moon's orbital motion around the Earth, and
obtained results which supported Dirac's theory and seemed to be
statistically significant. This experience led me to realize how
fragile were the assumptions underlying the Big Bang and other
theories of cosmology, when even the constancy of gravitation, the
most important force in shaping the large-scale structure of the
universe, had been called into question. And I saw that very few
of my colleagues were taking seriously the idea that anything
could be wrong at such a fundamental level. Their attitude was
understandable, but unscientific.
From my disturbing experiences with the insubstantiality of
fundamentals in other fields, I learned how I could sometimes spot
the bad accepted theories from a combination of their strangeness,
a certain lack of providing true insight into the underlying
phenomena, and a continuing need to do "maintenance theorizing" to
patch the theory in ever stranger ways as new data became
available. I later added "derivation from inductive reasoning" as
additional grounds for holding a theory suspect. Many of the
accepted astronomical theories in use today are "suspect" by all
these criteria. I also learned how to proceed when one encounters
such a theory: Revert to the principal investigative tools of
science and scientists, by means of which we try to separate good
theories from bad ones.
These are embodied in the Scientific Method, a process that
involves competitive testing of all ideas. Most scientists
understand, at least abstractly, the importance of testing. The
part they have forgotten, or were never taught because too many
major theories in too many fields would be called into question if
it were, is controls on testing. This is the step in which
the test is designed in such a way that the expected outcome, also
called the “bias of the experimenter”, cannot influence the
actual outcome. Instead, it has become common practice to question
or challenge data that leads to an unexpected outcome while not
even checking data or procedures that give the expected result.
Even more common is an ad hoc patch to the idea being tested to
accommodate the outcome. Naturally, such a patch completely
invalidates the test, and requires some independent test with new
data. But all too commonly, the result of the original test is
cited as evidence supporting the patched idea. Such is the state
of mainstream science today.
2002/05/05 |