We Used to Know, But Now We Think...

"You Keep Using that Word. I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means."

An Unpopular Opinion . . . Bet You Didn’t See that Coming?

I hate Science.

If I see one more “Science is Real” sign in a front yard, I’m gonna lose it. Thankfully, there aren’t as many of them here in the country. I think it’s a scale issue. People’s houses are too far back from the road and those flimsy signs wouldn’t last long next to the road.

I do come across quite a few more “Fuck Biden” flags and an increasing number of “Try that in a Small Town” flags. A flag is a better option here. It’s bigger. It’s bolder. It’s hardier. It’s far superior to a yard sign. I suppose the “Science is Real” crowd could commission a flag, but I’ve yet to see one. Which I’m grateful for. Because seriously, what the fuck is up with all these flags anyway?!?!?

Here’s another unpopular opinion. I prefer a good “Fuck Biden” flag over a “Science is Real” sign any day of the week. And it’s not because I agree with either one. I think they’re both full of shit. It’s just with the flag, there’s no pretense. It’s wearing its ignorance on its sleeve. I appreciate and prefer this to the under the table, behind the back, sleight of hand, unjustified appeal to authority couched in a smug sense of moral superiority hidden in the sign. The flag is an act of rebellion, a way of “standing up.” I don’t have to like the idea for the rebel inside me to appreciate a good old fashion middle finger to the “man.”

In this regard, I’d say there’s a thing or two the “Science is Real” folks could learn from the “Fuck Biden” folks. A thing about wearing your heart on your sleeve. A thing about saying what you think even if, or maybe because, not everyone agrees with you. A thing about living much, much closer to the bone. Of course, I’m generalizing, which is another way of saying grossly over generalizing. But, having spent time in both worlds . . . maybe not.

Does it go the other way? Are there some lessons for the “Fuck Biden” folks? Of course, but that’s beside the point. Why? Because that cuts a bit too close to the heart of the problem for me, which is the “Science is Real” peeps’ tendency to think they know a thing or two about a thing or two which they think everyone else needs to know. The painful irony here, circling back, is the “Science is Real” folks have almost no knowledge, or appreciation for, how science functions, or even what science actually is. How can I say that? Well, because almost nobody does.

What’s in a Word. . . “Science” vs. “science”. . .

Okay. So, before I piss everybody off, let’s get a few things straight.

There’s a chasm of difference between “Science” (uppercase “S”) and science (lowercase “s”).¹ One, the latter, is an empirical epistemology. The other, the former, is for all intents and purposes a dogma masquerading as an epistemology.

I know there’s a bit of jargon there. I’m sorry. Stay with me.

First, an epistemology is simply a fancy word for a way of knowing something. It’s also a branch of philosophy, which unsurprisingly, studies different ways of knowing and what it means “to know.” Science (lowercase “s”) is nothing more, or less, than an epistemology. A way of knowing the world.

Its way of knowing the world has two main characteristics. It’s empirical and it’s reductive. “Empirical” means it focuses on and requires things to be observable. In order for science to have an opinion, it must be examining things which can be seen, touched, smelt, heard, tasted, and/or measured. In fact, if you can’t see, touch, smell, hear, taste, and/or measure something, science doesn’t really have anything to say about it.

The second key characteristic is science maintains the best, perhaps the only (debatable), way to come to understand/know something about complex systems is through an investigation and unpacking of their simpler and smaller component parts. In other words, science understands things by breaking them down into smaller, more manageable parts, assuming along the way, that the whole, in essence, will not be bigger/different/more than those parts.

Based on these two very simple principles, science has accomplished a lot. It’s arguable as to whether science is the “best” or “only” way of knowing. It isn’t arguable that science is one of the most popular and successful epistemologies in the history of humanity. But, it has its limitations.

As mentioned above, science only works with what’s observable with the senses. Many interpret this to mean that anything beyond or outside the realm of the senses isn’t real. This may or may not be true, but science, as an epistemology, can’t know this. And it can’t really have a position on it. Such topics are outside its purview and the best it can say is, “We don’t see/hear/smell/taste/feel/measure anything.”

This has consequences for its ability to arrive at certainty. Since science can only make claims about what it observes, it can’t ever be settled. (Sorry to burst y’all’s bubbles.) Science can conduct the same experiment over and over and over again until the end of time and it will still never arrive at certainty. Of course, there comes a point in time when it’s practically foolish, or even ignorant, to think things will happen differently, but science, in its purest form, must always allow for the possibility, no matter how diminishingly small, that the future will not be like the past. After all, it hasn’t figured out how to see/hear/smell/taste/feel/measure the future.

There’s also the rather esoteric issue regarding parts and wholes and whether wholes are greater than their parts, or in other words, whether parts are always and forever representative of their wholes and vice versa. I’m going to let this sleeping dog lie because the above two “issues” already make it difficult to live in a truly scientific world.

How so? Well, if you’re a “Science is real” sort of person, and this how you see and understand the world, then stop for a moment and think about everything you know for certain . . . now forget it. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to suspend any disbelief you have around extra-sensorial phenomenon. The best you can do regarding all manner of things . . . here I’m thinking of things such as God, Satan, Heaven, Hell, ghosts, spirits of all kind, aliens, UFOs, right, wrong, Qi, the power of prayer, miracles, Bigfoot, goblins, fairies, lost cities, transversable wormholes, your existence outside a dream . . . is suspend judgement and assume a position of neutrality.

Wow, okay. I’m guessing the world you thought you lived in a couple seconds ago looks and feels a bit different . . . and there’s a decent chance you might not be super comfortable with it. You might even be wondering if there’s a better option, one perhaps, that gives it to you straight and is capable of restoring your world to sanity. Well, I have some good news for you. You need look no further than Science.

Science doesn’t suffer from the above foolishness about not knowing things. It’ll tell you exactly what the world is like, guaranteed, for certain, without the slightest doubt. And while it prides itself on its empirical orientation, it won’t allow itself to be handcuffed to the senses. Unlike its perpetually open, uncertain, and unsettled brother/sister (let’s face it, I’m screwed either way I gender this), Science can see past the limitations of time and space and project what the world will be like well into the future. After all, it’s providing all of us with the “Truth,” with a capital “T,” whether we like it or not.

So, if you want to be an atheist who knows that God doesn’t exist because “science” (lowercase “s” in their minds) hasn’t proved His existence, or perhaps even bolder, has disproved it . . . well then, you’ve found your home. Want to believe that the “science” (again, lowercase “s”) is settled in all sorts of areas from gender affirming care to the origins of COVID to the human cause of climate change . . . well then, come on in. There’s plenty of room (actually, this room is probably more crowded than the one next door, but there’s plenty of standing room over there on those pedestals).

You see, Science is what you get when you fail to appreciate the limitations of real science. Or maybe you don’t like those limitations, or simply don’t think they, and the principles leading up to them, apply to the same degree in all cases every time. Or perhaps you simply don’t understand, or really care at all, how science actually operates. You wouldn’t be the first, and you won’t be the last.

And I don’t blame you. Not only is Science telling a better story, but where exactly would’ve you had the chance to learn real science? Surely not the American education system. It can’t manage to teach people facts or basic thinking, what to speak of how to question the axiomatic assumptions operative in the epistemology accepted as the universal gold standard around the world. That’s a tall order no matter how you slice it. I’ve long thought scientists have an ethical obligation to properly communicate the nature of their enterprise, i.e., what it can know, what it can’t know, how it knows, what it means for it to know, and most importantly, its limitations, but then again, it’s hard to communicate this level of complexity in a world reduced to an attention span of 240 characters or less, and if I’m being honest, not all of them know the difference either.

To Infinity and Beyond. . .

My love hate relationship with all things science began in college, long before its oversimplification and appearance as lawn ornamentation. I studied philosophy in college (and yes, before you ask, it was the best decision of my life . . . right along with becoming a father and fighting fire). It was this which first raised my hackles regarding the inflated importance afforded this silly little thing called science.

There has been a long and contentious, occasionally acrimonious, relationship between science and philosophy. In the beginning, philosophy wore the crown. It was what everyone turned to when they wanted a piece of the knowledge game in town. But, slowly and surely, science usurped the once great and mighty discipline . . . oddly enough on the backs of early analytical philosophers. Maybe this is why there’s still some sour grapes? Whatever the case, science now occupies the place of prestige once held by philosophy in the determination of what counts as knowledge, and ultimately the “truth.”

Science’s (lowercase “s”) rise to the top of this epistemological pyramid was built on two philosophical pillars: its claims to “objectivity,” and the idea that it’s an eternal, cumulative, one way progression towards greater and greater understanding of the world at large.² These are perfectly captured in one of science’s favorite tag lines, “We used to think, but now we know.” The problem is that there are big problems with both of these, so much so I think it might be time for a re-branding. Here’s why.

“Objectivity” is broadly defined as “the fact of being based on facts and not influenced by personal beliefs and feelings.” I think it’s fair to say that science, in most cases, does a good job basing its positions on facts, at least as far as these are determined by empirical standards. However, I’d be surprised to find anyone who still seriously believes that science is conducted independent of “personal beliefs and feelings.”

Everything from what one chooses to study, how one chooses to frame the study, which questions are asked and how they are asked, who is providing funds to which studies, the power and influence of peer reviewed publications to accept or reject studies, all the way up to and including that the presence of the observer affects the physical phenomenon under observation (even in the hardest of hard sciences, physics) demonstrates the absurdity of maintaining objectivity in practice. I mean, sure, it’s a nice thing to think and talk about, and science does a better job than most at aspiring towards it, but the reality is . . . it’s a practical impossibility.

This is even clearer in light of the second pillar; the idea that science is a cumulative and progressive model of understanding. Simply put, this is the idea that science builds on its own understanding from the past, and slowly over time, by incremental accumulation and observation is constantly getting closer and closer to the truth. Learning more and more about the nature of reality as it goes along. This is a beautiful idea, and a load of shit.

Science isn’t cumulative and progressive, and anyone who thinks so should do themselves, and me, a favor and read Thomas Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Kuhn’s work completely upends this notion. Instead, he shows through numerous historical examples, that it actually works through revolutions; wherein one established theory/position (what he calls “paradigms”) is completely replaced with another when the previous one becomes so riddled with contradictions and ad-hoc corrections that it can no longer function effectively. Suffice it to say, Kuhn’s work is a big deal, and largely ignored outside the discipline it birthed, “science studies,” which has worked to peel back the veneer covering the inner, very personal, workings of science.

But you don’t even need to embark on a deep dive into the inner machinations of science to see the obvious . . . science is constantly disproving only to come back around and prove again in the future the very thing it disproved in the past. This is why instead of saying, “We used to think, but now we know,” it would actually make way more sense to say, “We used to know, but now we think.”

How It All Works. . . In the Real World. . .

The certainty of science is constantly being upset, overturned, and replaced by new ideas, discoveries, and realizations. And this is actually a wonderful thing. This is one of science’s superpowers, which it treats like a red-headed stepchild under the stairs, because it demonstrates that science, when it’s functioning properly and in accordance with its own principles, is never settled, always open, and willing to see things in a new and different light.

Two cases, from my other life as an acupuncturist, offer good examples.

Case one: Like many of my generation, my introduction to leeches was when Gordy pulled one off his nuts on his way to see a dead body. Not the best introduction I admit. From then on I was firmly anti-leech. However, it turns out doctors used to employ them in the process of bloodletting, before it went out of fashion in the eyes of Western medicine.

I say “Western medicine,” because as it turns out bloodletting, with and without leeches, never really disappeared for traditional Chinese doctors, who’ve used the practice to great effect over the centuries, up to and including the present. It’s actually an effective, and occasionally lifesaving therapy, for stroke victims and for extremely high fevers in children. And personally, I’ve seen, sans leeches mind you, how useful drawing a few drops of blood can be in the treatment of an assortment of conditions. I regularly bleed the apex of my ear when I’m getting sick and use it to treat conditions of blood stasis in patients’ extremities (think purple discolorations) and on varicosities.

But, as I said, bloodletting fell out of favor for a long time in the practice of Western medicine, before lo and behold, it started to make a bit of a comeback. Now, you’re not likely to walk into your local ER and see a jar of leeches on the counter, but it’s being used commonly in wound healing, cases of amputation, and even in cosmetics with leech facials. So, basically, all it took was for some woman to realize there was some potential benefit to attaching the blood sucking squigglers to her face and it was a hop, skip, and jump back into the good graces of the establishment. I kid . . . the seekers of beauty are late to the game . . . because doctors silently and subtly returned to the practice over the years for the simple fact it works.

Case two: the interstitium. I’m not going to say much here because you can just go listen to The Radiolab episode which covers it in detail. But, the elevator pitch goes something like this. For years, medical researches kept coming across these abnormalities on slides under the microscope. These were so normal, technicians were taught to ignore them. Turns out, these “abnormalities” were actually evidence of an “unknown” organ in the human body. It also turns out that Chinese medicine doctors theoretically knew about this organ for millennia before its “discovery” by Western medicine.

Again, none of this is a bad thing, if you appreciate science in its proper light. If you’re of the opinion that science arrives at the truth and never wavers, constantly progressing towards greater and greater understanding of the world, and anything outside of this worldview is a farce perpetrated by the imbeciles of the world . . . well, then you’re probably a more of a Science person than science person.

How the Other Half Lives…

Here’s a funny story.

I was a wildland firefighter for a couple of years. I was on an elite crew, a “hotshot” for those in the know, based on the Bitterroot Forest in Western Montana. While there was a lot of work, a lot of excitement, a lot of sleepless nights, and even a bit of danger, there was a whole bunch of “hurry up and wait.”

Sitting around for hours, or sometimes days, on end can lead to all sorts of shenanigans. And the occasional ruffled feather. Living and working with people in such close proximity in such an intense environment fosters deep connections and equally deep divisions around all sorts of meaningless things. Without a proper release valve these things can quickly spiral out of control ruining an entire season, or potentially even hurting a feeling.

Say for example, Ashley and I get into a disagreement over the nature of fire. She says, “It’s hot.” I say, “Well, it can be hot, but more often than not, it’s luke warm at best.” A fierce debate ensues. Sides are chosen. Evidence is offered. There’s the occasional cheap shot (or two knowing Ashley). How does this end? In one of the greatest, unappreciated examples of art imitating life, “Science” was born.

Here’s how it worked. The “Science” committee, composed of five people (me, Ashley, Natedawg, Cole, and Joe), meet to settle the matter. The issue is put on the table. The committee decides the veracity of the claim via a majority decision. This decision, the beknighting of something “Science,” forever and irrevocably, within the terms and conditions of the crew, establishes the “truth” of the matter. Once something is “Science,” there’s simply no more argument, no more going back. Reality has been decided. Think popularly manipulated determinations of truth with the occasional behind the curtain sleight of hand.

Case in point, I manipulated the inner workings of “Science” to invalidate any and all of Ashley’s positions before she even had them. I resorted to this as an expedient to avoid constant arguments, which I was destined to win anyway. I simply gathered the committee and suggested we eliminate any of Ashley’s positions from ever being deemed “Science,” and obtained a majority vote to this effect, making it “Science” that her positions would forever be ineligible for the title of “Science.” Ensuring I would always win the game of “knowledge.”

Now, granted this was just for fun, but unfortunately it’s not all that far removed from how Science works in the real world. Don’t believe me? Read the email exchanges between the “leading” scientific voices on the origins of Covid early on during the pandemic. And remember, this was long, long before there was any solid evidence upon which to base a judgement. Or think about how it’s come to light that some of the “scientific” recommendations on spacing and masking were essentially made up by those who were suppose to be the experts. These examples show how thin the line can be between science and Science and how even those purportedly at the very top of the profession can, either intentionally or unintentionally, fall prey to their own devices.

The Same is True for Me (and Maybe You). . .

So, you see, my problem isn’t so much with science per se, but with how it’s understood, interpreted, and on occasion, manipulated by the guy on the corner all the way up to and including the girl in the lab coat. There’s a serious disconnect between the reality of science and what passes for science. And, as I said before, that makes sense. Science is a way better story than science.

And we are creatures of story. We need them just as much, if not more, than other people. Although, it’s hard to imagine what a story would be without someone to share it with. We need them because they help remove ambiguity from our lives. They bring certainty and comfort. Nobody wants to be left wondering at the end of the day. They want to go to bed and fall asleep, resting their head on a pillow of absolutes . . . even if they’re made up.

Stories are how we make sense of the world. They’re how we figure out what’s bad, what’s good, what’s wrong, what’s right, what’s dangerous, what’s safe, what’s other, and above all else, who we are. We see ourselves, and by extension the world, through the stories we tell. In this sense, they say way more about us than whatever they’re supposedly about.

I’m on the cusp of turning 50 and I’ve heard a lot stories, even told one or two. Some I still believe. Others not so much. I realize I used to know so much more than I do now. In my 20s, I knew it all. But then in my 30s, I started to wonder. And now in my 40s, I’ve realized just how full of shit I’ve been. The certainty of my earlier stories has evaporated. You might say I’ve entered the science phase of my life.

And boy, is it a relief. A bit scary sometimes, sure, but a bit liberating too. Certainty can be a bit too confining, essentially putting us in boxes. Trapping us in “This is how I do . . .”, or “I am . . .”. Not allowing us to grow, to evolve past the script(s) we’ve adopted or been handed. As the saying goes, you can’t fill a full cup. A surefire way to break out of this is to lean into more thinking, and the ambiguity which goes along with it, in order to keep growing, to keep learning, and to stay humble. When you no longer need to cling to a particular story for fear of losing yourself or your world, well then, you can pause and take a minute to actually figure out what the fuck.

With this new found freedom to explore, to lift the hood and look inside, I’ve realized that for the majority of my life I’ve engaged in a project of self-deception. Not always consciously of course, but effectively none the less, by identifying and internalizing stories given to me by others. So many of the things I think about “me” aren’t actually mine to begin with. This has seen me chasing dreams and striving to embody a version, and a vision, of myself written for me rather than by me. Parents, teachers, friends, peers, mentors, society, partners, partner-in-laws, they’ve all been given too much of say in who and what I am.

It’s not their fault. I’m the one to blame. I’m the one who, despite my obvious penchant for words, chose to take what other people said as the truth about my life and who I am in that life. I’ve adopted these opinions and external metrics as though they were my own, allowing them to determine what counts as my successes or failures. I don’t think for one second I’m alone in this. I imagine this is pretty normal. But, what I find so surprising/disturbing is that I thought I was more immune to these influences than most. Turns out I was wrong. Turns out, yet again, I used to know, but now I think. And it only took me almost 50 years to figure it out.

This return to, and embrace of, more ambiguity has lead to a few more sleepless nights. Not exactly what I need going into middle age, but hey, you play the hand you’re dealt. It does require a certain degree of courage to sit in ambiguity. It can be scary to allow things simply to unfold rather than trying to control it. But, I think it’s probably worth it, because it’s actually the truest version of the story in the end . . . well, at least that’s what I think at the moment.

1. I’m going to do my best to keep Science and science separated. When it’s particularly confusing, say at the beginning of a sentence, I’ll interject and specify. But other than that read carefully.

2. A third, less philosophical, pillar would be its predictability, which again, is a little tricky to argue against. However, as these the two under discussion are unpacked, legitimate questions about just how “predictable” science is arise . . . even if only implicitly here.