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Science as a Self-Correcting Process

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For centuries, many of those who have thought and written about science have claimed that science is self-correcting, that one of the hallmarks of the scientific method is that its results are not taken to be absolutely certain, but always subject to revision and even rejection if the evidence warrants. Isaac Newton, for example, wrote in his Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy,

“In experimental philosophy we are to look upon propositions inferred by general induction from phenomena as accurately or very nearly true…till such time as other phenomena occur, by which they may either be made more accurate, or liable to exception.” (Rules of Reasoning in Philosophy, Rule IV)

In his Novum Organum, Francis Bacon had already bemoaned the tendency of the human understanding, once it has fashioned an opinion,

“to draw all things else to support and agree with it. And though there be a greater number and weight of instances to be found on the other side, yet these it either neglects or despises, or else by some distinction sets aside and rejects, in order that by this great and pernicious predetermination the authority of its former conclusions may remain inviolate” (Book I, Aph. 46)

Scientific method, Bacon cautioned, should take exactly the opposite attitude.

Later, in the nineteenth century, William Whewell agreed with Newton and Bacon; writing about Newton’s Rules of Reasoning in Philosophy, Whewell asserted that

“the really valuable part of the Fourth Rule is that which implies that a constant verification, and, if necessary, rectification, of truths discovered by induction, should go on in the scientific world. Even when the law is, or appears to be, most certainly exact and universal, it should be constantly exhibited to us afresh in the form of experience and observation.” (On the Philosophy of Discovery)

In the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, this has been almost a commonplace of the scientific method. And yet, as Carl Zimmer notes in a very illuminating, if disturbing, piece in Sunday’s New York Times, science as it is currently practiced does not lend itself well to self-correction.

The main problem, besides the one that Bacon pointed to, is that, as Zimmer puts it, “Researchers make their reputations on discovery, not de-discovery.”

For example, as I pointed to in a post here last week, there has been much controversy over research published in December suggesting that a species of bacteria had seemed to use arsenic rather than phosphorus to build its DNA, in seemingly flagrant violation of the laws of biology. In May, the journal Science, which had published the original article, ran eight critiques of the study and its results. However, none of the critics of the original study have tried to replicate the results.

One of the critics, John Helmann, a microbiologist at Cornell, explained that “I’ve got my own science to do.” The most persistant critic, Rosemary Redfield, has said that “scientifically I think trying to replicate the claimed results is a waste of time.” To exert the energy, time, and money to try to replicate experiments that, they feel, will lead to nothing more than a rejection of the original results, is not something scientists want to do.

Indeed, even if scientists do rerun an experiment, and find a problem in the original result, they often find it difficult to get published. As Zimmer notes, journal editors prefer to publish groundbreaking new research, not replications.

But, because of this, the original paper about arsenic-based life has not been retracted, and its results still stand.

If scientists today wish to tout their method as special because it is “self-correcting,” it would seem that they need to do more to ensure that the work of making corrections is considered time well-spent.

PHILOSOPHICAL BREAKFAST CLUB available to visually-impaired listeners on MPR

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I am honored that The Philosophical Breakfast Club has been recorded by the Minnesota Radio Talking Book Network. The Radio Talking Book Network “provides access to current local and statewide newspapers, magazine articles and best-selling books, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, reaching nearly 8,000 visually-impaired listeners” and is broadcast over Minnesota Public Radio.

The volunteer who recorded The Philosophical Breakfast Club, Leila Poullada, described the book as “entrancing,” and said:

“I looked eagerly forward to each recording session. The Philosophical Breakfast Club will remain a favorite book from which I enjoyed learning.”

For a fuller discussion of the book and its recording, see here.

“Engrossing”–BOOK NEWS

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A wonderful review from Book News magazine:

“Engrossing….Packed with good stories and anectdotes, as well as good science and history.”

The full review:

“An expert on Victorian science and culture, Snyder (Philosophy, St. John’s University) presents the surprisingly engrossing story of four men–Charles Babbage, John Herschel, William Whewell, and Richard Jones–who met as students at Cambridge University, and then went on to have a tremendous effect of the development of science in the 19th century. Meeting for decades in a kind of Sunday brunch, the four talked about the then-current state of science and about the best ways to conduct scientific research. Drawing on five decades of letters between the men, Snyder shows how they helped to change the “natural philosopher” into the modern scientist, and (not so incidentally) helped found the disciplines of crystallography, mathematical economics, and modern computing, and make major contributions to astronomy and photography. Packed with good stories and anecdotes, as well with as good science and history, this is a book that can reach out to readers who would not ordinarily be interested in reading about the lives of four British scientists who, other than Babbage, are largely forgotten.”

The “Scientist” 178 Years Old Today

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Exactly 178 years ago today, on June 24, 1833, the word “scientist” was uttered in public for the first time. At the third meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, held in Cambridge, the poet S.T. Coleridge stood up and demanded a new name for the members, saying they could no longer be considered “natural philosophers”—and Trinity College don William Whewell stood up and suggested the word “scientist” instead.

I tell that story in the prologue of The Philosophical Breakfast Club, and in a guest blog post here. But today I would like to explore the reason that Whewell had a new word at the ready when Coleridge made his demand.

Part of the reason is that Whewell and his friends John Herschel, Charles Babbage and Richard Jones had already been working on trying to modernize and professionalize the “man of science” for twenty years, ever since they met and held their “philosophical breakfasts” at Cambridge. Over this period, the men had already brought about many changes. They had publicly called for government funding for scientific innovation. They had insisted on the importance of exquisitely precise measurements and calculations—so precise, in fact, that it was humanly impossible to attain it, necessitating Babbage’s calculating engine. They had brought the issue of scientific method to the attention of the public in a series of widely-read and much-talked about books and articles. They had been involved in the formation of new scientific societies, ones that required members to be active workers in the natural sciences. And they were transforming scientific education, by arguing that professors in the natural sciences should be paid enough to afford their experiments and research, and should have adequate laboratories for this work. It was fitting that one of those trying to invent the modern scientist, in effect, was the one who named him as well.

But, more specifically, Whewell believed strongly that new discoveries required new terminology to denote those new entities or properties. As Whewell put it, “Such a coinage [of new terms] has always taken place at the great epochs of discovery; like the medals that are struck at the beginning of a new reign.” A new definition of the natural philosopher’s role and methods required a new term to name him.

Whewell did not stop with the word “scientist.” In a series of letters to Michael Faraday in 1834, Whewell invented the terms anode, cathode, ion and others. Faraday had sought Whewell’s help while in the midst of working on his new theory of electromagnetism—and Whewell was happy to oblige. As Whewell told Faraday, “novelties” in language were being “forced upon [Faraday] by the novelty of extent and the new relations of your views. In cases where such causes operate, new terms inevitably arise.” The important thing, Whewell cautioned, is that those who invent the new terms must pay attention “to the general bearing and future prospects of the subject.”

As Faraday himself had realized, terms carry their own meanings, and to maintain the old terms to describe completely new theories would be misleading. In particular, Faraday found himself struggling to express his experimental results without using terms which involved the old theory of electricity. As Faraday told Whewell, “it is essential to me to have the power of referring to the two surfaces of a decomposable body by which the current enters into and passes out of it, without at the same time referring to the electrodes [a word which he had already substituted for “poles”].”

Whewell suggested “anode” and “cathode,” explaining that these were good terms because they “indicate opposition of direction without assuming any hypothesis which may hereafter turn out to be false”—such as terms that would assume the flow was from east to west, or top to bottom. At the same time, it was important, Whewell believed, to indicate “opposition,” rather than merely “difference.” As Faraday put it in a paper introducing the new terms,

. . . whatever changes may take place in our views of the nature of electricity and electrical action . . . there seems no reason to expect that [these terms] will lead to confusion, or tend in any way to support false views. The anode is therefore that surface at which the electric current according to our present expression, enters: it is the negative extremity of the decomposing body. . . . The cathode is that surface at which the current leaves the decomposing body, and is its positive extremity. . . .

Faraday told Whewell after using these terms during a talk at the Royal Institution, “I had some hot objections made to them here . . . but when I held up the shield of your authority it was wonderful to observe how the tone of objection melted away!” Interestingly, it would take decades more before the term “scientist” was accepted in the same spirit.

[For more on this topic, see S. Ross, “Faraday Consults the Scholars,” Notes and Records of the Royal Society (1961) 16:187–220.]

Italian Edition Featured in NEWTON OGGI

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Il Club Dei Filosofi che Volevano Cambiare il Mondo, the Italian edition of The Philosophical Breakfast Club, is featured in this month’s issue of Newton Oggi (Newton Today), an Italian popular science magazine.

An extended excerpt from the beginning of Chapter 8 appears in the June issue of the magazine.

To see the start of the excerpt, click “Racconto” on the first line, here.

A TED Book Club Selection

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The Philosophical Breakfast Club is one of four books just sent by TED to its Book Club members. TED is the nonprofit devoted to “Ideas Worth Spreading,” and its annual conference in Long Beach, CA is famous for bringing together explorers, scientific pioneers, visionaries and provocateurs from all over the world.

Five times a year, TED mails out a package of “inspired books, CDs, and DVDs” to associate members who choose that option. Past books have included An Inconvenient Truth, Predictibly Irrational, The Black Swan, and The Bottom Billion. I’m honored to have my book included in that fine company!

This is what the letter sent by TED says about The Philosophical Breakfast Club:

“Laura Snyder transports the reader to the 1800s, into the lives of William Whewell, Charles Babbage, John Herschel and Richard Jones – four friends who left their mark on the way science is conducted and whose legacy persists to this day. This fascinating period gave birth to scientific method, among other things. Outside of this past half century, no other period in history witnessed such great scientific breakthroughs.”

To see the other books included in the mailing, see here

THE PHILOSOPHICAL BREAKFAST CLUB named a “Critics’ Pick”!

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I’m so pleased and proud that The Philosophical Breakfast Club has been named a “Critics’ Pick” by Critics and Writers, a website of professional book critics. They note that my reviews have been “100% positive” with an “average score” of 10/10! Can’t get much better than that!

I have been so fortunate to receive reviews in such prestigious publications and websites–and that they have all been praising reviews. (The Critics and Writers site left out a number of my excellent reviews, from THE ECONOMIST, THE WASHINGTON TIMES, NATURE, THE NEW SCIENTIST, etc., but they were all quite positive too!) Thanks to all the reviewers who have spent the time and energy to give me such thoughtful and generous reviews over the past 3.5 months!

You can see the page on Critics and Writers, and links to my major reviews, here.

Happy Birthday William Whewell, b. May 24, 1794

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William Whewell was a true polymath, an innovator in numerous fields: crystallography, mathematical economics, tidal research, international “big” science, educational reform, history of science, and philosophy of science. In honor of his birthday, I would like to share this brief excerpt from chapter 10 of The Philosophical Breakfast Club, in which I discuss the inspiration behind one of Whewell’s most important contributions to discussions of scientific method, namely his claim that finding the correct concept to use in bringing together the known facts under a law—as when Kepler used the concept of an ellipse rather than a circle to unify the motions of the planets—is often the most difficult and crucial part of scientific discovery.

“The inspiration for Whewell’s belief in the crucial role of clearly formulated concepts in scientific knowledge originated from an unlikely source: Whewell’s study of architecture. . . . Examination of [over eighty Gothic] churches led Whewell to the belief that the development of Gothic architecture was due to the introduction of an idea: the idea of verticality, the concept of reaching upwards towards the heavens. The rise of the Gothic style, Whewell concluded, had occurred by the substitution of the idea of verticality for the Romanesque idea of horizontality. The new style, then, was brought about not by the introduction of one feature such as the pointed arch [as other architectural historians typically argued], but rather by the introduction the new idea. Indeed, the new idea led to the new feature: the desire for more vertical lines led to the use of the pointed arch, because in order to have greater height with thinner walls and more light, it was necessary to provide greater stabilization for the increased thrusts of the vaults over the interior. The was partially provided by pointed arches. . . .

“Far from being a barbaric form of architecture, as many had argued, and as the original use of the term ‘Gothic’ was meant to signify, the Gothic style is beautiful when found in its purest form. Whewell explained that what makes a building or architectural style ‘beautiful’ is that it contains a principle or idea that gives unity and harmony to the whole. The Gothic style, ‘in adopting forms and laws which are the reverse of the ancient ones . . . introduced new principles as fixed and true, and as full of unity and harmony, as those of the previous system.’ Buildings are ‘barbarous’ or ‘degenerate’ when they mix styles, when there is no overriding principle of unity.

“His work in architecture suggested to Whewell that concepts could be unifying principles, means of bringing together and making lawful a group of otherwise disparate facts. Just as the concept of verticality could unify diverse parts of a Gothic structure, so too the concept of an ellipse could unify and make lawful the observed points of the orbit of Mars. The scientist, then, was like an architect, building lovely, unified structures called theories, using the bricks that nature provided, and the blueprints provided by the mind.”

Learning from History

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Pete Warden of the O’Reilly Report discusses The Philosophical Breakfast Club today in a post on “Lesons of the Victorian Data Revolution.” One point Warden stresses is that “What’s really useful about historical analogies is that you can see how they played out in the long run.” I agree–and that’s what I love about reading and writing historical works!

Focusing on Whewell’s work on the tides, Warden suggests a parallel between today’s concept of “crowdsourcing” and the way Whewell gathered hundreds of observers from around the globe to make simultaneous tidal observations. And Warden uses that analogy to draw interesting conclusion for scientists working with data sets today. “The villians of the tidal story were the harbor masters who hoarded their information, but in fact that was only a small part of the value they offered. Despite incredibly detailed maps of every port, we still rely on their descendants to pilot commercial ships into harbor. There’s a world of knowledge about currents, shifting sand banks and traffic patterns that it hasn’t been possible to compress into numbers or rules.” (In fact, Whewell’s realization that this was the case is what caused him to give up his goal of discovering universal tidal laws.)

Warden claims that those who gather data sets need to retain some “humility”–and not expect that their numbers are going to solve every scientific problem. And, most importantly, I think, he notes that specialists need to be involved in efforts to educate the general public about the meaning and limits of such data sets. “The Victorian example shows,” Warden concludes, “that if we’re going to improve the world with data, it’s absolutely essential we stay grounded in reality.”

Read Warden’s full post here.

On the Term “Data Science”

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I just love it when The Philosophical Breakfast Club is invoked in discussions of current issues in science, as one reason I wrote the book was to shed light on science today by looking at its history. On today’s “O’Reilly Radar,” Pete Warden discusses the legitimacy of the term “data science.” He brings in the book to argue against the objection that “It’s not a Real Science”:

“I just finished reading “The Philosophical Breakfast Club,” the story of four Victorian friends who created the modern structure of science, as well as inventing the word “scientist.” I grew up with the idea that physics, chemistry and biology were the only real sciences and every other subject using the term was just stealing their clothes (“Anything that needs science in the name is not a real science”). The book shows that from the beginning the label was never restricted to just the hard experimental sciences. It was chosen to promote a disciplined approach to reasoning that relied on data rather than the poorly-supported logical deductions many contemporaries favored. Data science fits comfortably in this more open tradition.”

Fancy learning more about data science to potentially use in a future career? Maybe you should sign up for this – data science bootcamp / Springboard. You can learn at your own pace and if you haven’t found a data science job within 6 months of completing the course, you can get your money back.

Whewell–who not only invented the word ‘scientist,’ but also “anode,” “cathode,” “ion,” and many others, would have appreciated the discussion of the legitimacy of a new term in this case. And all the members of the Philosophical Breakfast Club would have agreed that the term “science” did not just refer to physics, chemistry and biology. Indeed, as I argue in the book, they would have been dismayed by the erecting of walls between disciplines that they, inadvertantly, helped to bring about.

You can read the full posting on the O’Reilly Report here.