A mythological history of science

The philosopher Robert P Crease, writing in this month’s Physics World magazine, brings to light an interesting phenomenon amongst professional scientists: the mythologization of scientific history. The apple that fell on Newton’s head, Galileo dropping balls from the Leaning Tower of Pisa: these and others reveal something both interesting, and perhaps slightly dangerous, in the way scientists view themselves and their work.

That even the otherwise rigorously factual Richard Feynman would call the “history” that he repeats “a sort of conventionalized myth-story”, as quoted by Crease, points to the power of myth to convey truth. Good myth, like good poetry, allows facts to slip between the cracks and lets a clear light of truth shine through instead. And it is not just, as I believe CS Lewis once said, that stories and myths are lies which contain the truth, but rather as I think JRR Tolkien held that myths are actually truer than facts because of the power with which they lay bare an experience. (If anyone can help me substantiate these claims made on Lewis and Tolkien, I would be very grateful.)

But is this bad news for students of science? By reducing the formation of a good theory to a happenstance – the fall of an apple – or a weak and inconclusive experiment – dropping objects from a tower – we neglect the very real role played by days and months of sweat and toil and exhaustive thought in forming and testing hypotheses. Although the Eureka Moment has been historically important and played a crucial part in every scientist’s life, it is usually the moment at which a washing-basket of ideas and concepts finally falls together into a respectable outfit after a long time of scrubbing, rinsing, mangling, pressing, folding, putting away, getting out again, wearing for a while, washing again, mothballing, bringing out again, and trying it with different accessories. I wonder how many students worry that they aren’t having a Eureka Moment without realising the hard work that leads up to it.

And what kind of story are we telling the public, those who fund our sometimes-extravagant work? Why are expensive particle colliders, supercomputers, gene sequencers, and trips to the furthest corners of the world important when we should be just waiting for a light bulb to come on in the head of a genius somewhere?

Comment posted by jae’than (from vox)
[this is good]

this is a great post sir.

Comment posted by Mark (from vox)
In many modern societies there seems to be an increasingly pervasive sociological trend. The pursuit of instant gratification, the soundbite, the silver bullet, the catch-all. It is festering in the zeitgeist as if we are convinced we can have it all without the price of either effort or a sense of consequence. Even in science, the mantra ‘Theory Of Everything’ is banded around, without a single nod to hubris despite the obvious absurdity of such a claim. No theory can ever be a ‘Theory of Everything’, unless we assume there is nothing new to be discovered, or we weasle our way out by defining ‘Everything’ as exactly that for which have a scientific theory.I think Phil’s comments on the ‘mythologization of scientific history’ and, by implication, the perception of science as a whole, form an interesting example of these issues. People often want the cartoon, the TV-dinner of scientific descriptions that they can consume with one hand while doing something else with the other. They want it made easy, they want Relativity For Dummies. The digital age has bombarded us with an information overload that is, genuinely, difficult to digest, and it is perhaps unsurprising that we often want to consume something more palatable. But that scientists themselves seem to be promoting ‘the myths’, consciously, or unconsiously, despite being in the best position to see a broader picture, is particularly interesting.However, as Phil notes, myth and imagery has a power to convey truth which appeals directly to the heart and intellect. While the story of the apple may be crude or even trite, while it smacks of a soundbite and hopelessly fails to convey the context of scientific labour that necessarily surrounds any great breakthrough, it has a lasting appeal. In the past decade more scientific knowledge has been created than in all of human history. It is overwhelming. The story of the apple is simple enough to capture the imagination of a child. Unfortunately, many people have neither the time nor the inclination to absorb much more. Even scientists themselves, ever specialising and under great pressure to produce results, experience the same phenomenon outside of their often narrow field.The reduction of science to headlines, to Eureka moments, to famous scientists appearing as celebrity guests on cartoon TV shows, is ubiquitous. But this is a matter that goes far beyond how scientists present their subject. It relies on what the audience is willing and able to hear.

Comment posted by Phil Wilson (from vox)
Thanks for your thoughtful and extremely well-crafted comments, Mark. A larger question, in relation to the “pervasive sociological trend” you describe, is why we care about what people in professions other than our own, or leading lifestyles different to our own, spend their time doing. I have no answer to this; it seems to be a basic human drive, a way of introducing a little light into the echoing blackness of the isolation of one human from another.Given that non-scientists may therefore have a few minutes of attention to give to scientists, there is an inevitable tension between what a scientist wants to give and what will be well-received. I also think that since most scientists are funded by tax revenue they have a responsibility to inform the public, although you could argue the same for civil servants and on this basis it is hard to distinguish between the two groups.