The Limits of Science
Last time out I posted a brief history of scientific endeavor. Of particular interest to us is the interaction of religion and science. Much more could be said on this issue, but suffice it to say that biblical religion should have no problem with the practice of science. The pursuit of knowledge of the physical world according to the scientific method is consistent both with the orderly nature of God and the expectation that mankind will exercise dominion over His creation.
Nevertheless, Christians are rightly uneasy with the atmosphere of scientific triumphalism which permeates today's intellectual climate. Is science truly a limitless field? Is there no question to which science cannot give the answer?
Various fields of study operate according to distinct ways of looking at the world. I once taught U.S. History in a high school. I have a fairly decent grasp of how historians look at the world. They follow certain guidelines; for instance, they endeavor to go to primary sources for their information, to look for sources from various perspectives, and to consider the social, religious, and political viewpoint of those sources while evaluating their legitimacy. These are excellent principles which, together with other similar rules, make up what might be called a "historiographic method."
I can only imagine the chaos which would ensue if a group of deranged historians were to elevate this method to the upper case and insist that their students pursue all knowledge according to the principles of the Historigraphic Method. "Well, your solution to that geometric theorem is interesting, but it isn't exactly a historiographic answer. Your geometry book is, after all, only a tertiary source. Have you read Euclid himself? In the original Greek? And have you accounted for his socio-economic biases? What did rival mathematicians have to say? Until you examine this question according to the principles of the HM you really can't know the answer, can you?"
"Absurd," you say, and you are right. There are clear limits to the application of historiography. Those limits are definitional to history – which is after all nothing more than the study of the recorded interactions of people and groups in the past. The historian cannot tell you as a historian how to calculate the volume of a sphere. If he knows the answer to such a question it is only because he has mastered some amount of information which was achieved by following another method entirely.
But we live in a day in which everyone wants to be a scientist. The humanities were supplanted by what were briefly called "social studies" before undergoing an apotheosis and emerging as "social sciences." The same trend is observable in other areas of our culture than academia. People whose grandparents once sought the advice of clergy now choose their advisors from among the ranks of "scientific" therapists. We seem to have stumbled unknowingly into an era in which it is presumed that scientific knowledge is the only true knowledge.
This implies either of two assumptions. Either all questions break down into two types - those with scientific answers and those with no answer at all - or else science is capable of answering any question which people are capable of asking!
The Christian is right to argue that these are absurd presumptions. Science is not a catch-all category governing the totality of knowledge. Rather, it is a particular way of looking at the world. It has validity, but it also has limits, and those limits are definitional. Just as a historiographic method is only valid in the study of history, so the scientific method has no valid application beyond the realm of what has been called "hard science." (Those would be the things you studied in science class as a child, not all the silly pseudo-science departments your university invented.)
Putting Science in a Box
In order to explore the limits of science, we must recall what science is. I wrote earlier that the scientific method "is a method based upon identifying questions about the material universe and proposing solutions to those questions which are both testable and verifiable. The proposed solutions, called "hypotheses," are then subjected to tests designed to prove them either true or false. When these tests have been repeated with sufficiently consistent results, the hypotheses
graduate to the level of theory - well established understandings of how things within the material universe work."
This method is definitional to science. Where this method has been followed, there is science; where it has been ignored or circumvented, "science" is a misnomer. Further, it is this method which has produced our confidence in science. We trust the chemicals which we put in our bodies at doctors' recommendations because we have confidence the testing which has proven them both effective and safe. We trust the bridges across which we drive because we have confidence in the structural principles derived from centuries of trial and error. The scientific method has both defined science and produced the current climate of implicit trust for scientists.
A consideration of this method leads us to certain conclusions about its rational limits. In order for the scientific method to be applied to any subject, scientists must be capable of getting their hands on that subject. Or, more properly, they must be capable of getting at least one of their physical senses on that subject. In the absence of observation and experimentation there is no science. The proper subjects of scientific inquiry must therefore be physical and immediate.
By "physical" I mean that the proper subjects of scientific inquiry must be part of the physical universe which is observable through our senses. Material things can be studied, as can the operations of various forms of energy. Mental abstractions, on the other hand, elude scientific observation. How could one build a scientific theory of justice, for instance? How could justice be subjected to experimental analysis? (Note that I am not talking about the best way to achieve ends which have been already agreed upon as just, but rather the more fundamental question of what is just.)
By "immediate" I mean that the proper subjects of scientific inquiry must be accessible. Take for instance the question of soil composition. The soil composition of earth is obviously a suitable study for scientific inquiry. Soil is material, and it can easily be subjected to scientific observation and experimentation. Today, however, scientists have become fascinated with the soil composition of Mars. This is a subject which is somewhat less immediate; until quite recently it was entirely inaccessible. Today, though, we are able to determine with a fair degree of accuracy the soil composition on Mars. What is not currently a fit subject for scientific inquiry is the soil composition of CoRoT-9b, a recently discovered planet in the Serpens Cauda nebula. At the moment we have only the capacity to identify its orbit and its size; absent new technology any statement on its soil composition would be rather speculative than scientific. In this example it is at least plausible that at some point in time a scientific answer might become possible, but at present the subject is not immediate, and science cannot speak to the issue.
It is important for persons living in an empirical culture to ask questions such as this. We need to understand what science can properly do if we are to evaluate all the claims which are presented to us as "scientific." At the same time, by asking and answering these questions we are actually limiting the reach of science. We cannot identify what science can do without identifying what it cannot do. We are, in other words, putting science in a box. We are examining the limits which are established for science by its own definition. Where observation and experimentation are impossible, science has exceeded its limits.
Yet we live in a day in which science is everywhere – both inside and outside the box! People are claiming to be engaged in "science" where there is not even an attempt to adhere to the method which defines science. This false nomenclature trivializes all true scientific endeavor while simultaneously deceiving the masses into assuming that the speculations of various dreamers have been scientifically proven!
We might assume that of all people, true scientists would be the first to insist upon putting science back into its box and properly defining its limitations. Indeed, some have insisted upon a distinction between "hard" (read "real") science and "soft" (read "not-really-") science. However, to truly reestablish a definition of "science" according to its method would be to admit that there are questions which cannot be answered scientifically. Science would lose its cultic status, and scientists would be demoted from the priesthood of modern man.
It thus remains to thinking persons to put science back in its box and to insist that any speculation which proceeds without the benefit of the scientific method no longer be referred to as "scientific."e the
Put a Lid on It!
Let us begin. What things must we insist are not science? If the proper scope of scientific inquiry is those subjects which are both physical and immediate, than science has nothing to say about anything which is metaphysical or mediate.
The Metaphysical
The extra-scientific nature of spiritual beings seems obvious to most Christians, but not so to those who cannot imagine the existence of anything beyond the reach of science. Yuri Gagarin, the first cosmonaut, is attributed (perhaps falsely) with the quote, "I looked and looked but I didn't see God." The youngest child with a comprehension of basic theology would answer, "Of course you didn't; God doesn't have a body." In an age when everything is thought to be subject to scientific inquiry we are obliged to say this clearly: if a spiritual world exists, no scientific inquiry into could ever be possible. There can be no scientific view of God.
Furthermore, science can only tell us so much about the nature of man. Christians believe that a human being consists of body and spirit. Put in terms of our current discussion, people are made up of the conjoining of that which may be examined scientifically and that which may not. The human soul is spiritual in nature; science utterly fails to comprehend it. Perhaps the best example of this is the silliness which Freud wrote about dreams, but in fact the whole pseudo-science which is called "psychology" (literally "the science of the soul") ought to be rejected out of hand. That which is spiritual can never be subjected to observation and experimentation; another approach is necessary.
As I said above, scientific inquiry cannot help us at all in formulating our understanding of rational abstractions. Like justice, such things as love and honor can never be defined scientifically. Interestingly, there is no empirical proof for the existence or nature of logic. While science is necessarily logical and depends upon rules of logic for its existence, it can neither prove nor disprove the existence of logic.
This leads us close to the original meaning of "metaphysical." Science cannot really comment on those things which are foundational to both thought and existence. Science is strangely silent on the rather important question of whether or not we really exist, for instance. Science, like logic, must build upon accepted presuppositions about the universe – presuppositions which it can neither confirm nor deny. For instance, science presumes the constancy of physical interactions – what occurs in certain circumstances will always occur in identical circumstances. Without constants, there would be no science. Yet science can neither establish that there are constants nor suggest where they came from. Science has accomplished much, but it cannot build its own foundation.
The Mediate
Yet not all that is physical is within the reach of scientific inquiry either. The process of science is limited in ways that prohibit its examination of the metaphysical, but scientists are also limited in ways that prevent a thorough examination of the physical. Technology has enabled us to see what is much further off, but what we see mainly tells us how much we cannot explore. Stars examined through better telescopes have sometimes revealed entire galaxies, complex systems which defy our comprehension. There are similar limits to how small a unit of physical reality we may examine. Again, technology has helped but at the same time revealed our limitations. As we have discovered smaller and smaller units of matter we have also found complexity we had never imagined, both at a cellular and an atomic level.
Some years ago I read Modern Times, a colossal work by historian Paul Jones. It is a marvelous piece of history, but ends with the naïve assertion that genetic science will soon spell the end of history. Soon, Jones insists, our study of DNA will give us such a thorough grasp of human nature that all actions of men will be both describable and controllable. Not only is this theologically unacceptable and anthropologically simplistic, it demonstrates a complete failure to understand that science's triumphs always involve further challenges. History suggests that as we map DNA we are only going to discover smaller units of genetic material which must first be understood if we are to comprehend DNA itself. Furthermore, those smaller units will likely be more complex rather than less.
Science, then, can examine physical reality, but never in an ultimate sense. The very nature of science prevents it from telling us everything which can be known about any subject. Even where science produces answers, it always generates many more questions. Recently scientific apologists have taken to talking about "settled science." A more oxymoronic phrase could never be found. Science by its nature settles nothing; it advances to a clearer understanding which in turn uncovers greater mystery.
These are all limitations of a spatial nature, but scientific inquiry is also limited by time. While the essence of science is the prediction of the future (given certain circumstances, a certain result will occur), that prediction is greatly limited. A scientist can much better predict what a situation will be in the immediate future; the further into the future he reaches the less certain he is. Too many variables intervene. Everyone understands that a three day weather forecast is far more accurate than a ten day forecast.
No one can see the future, but scientists are even limited in seeing the past. Just as science is a discipline of the here, it is also a discipline of the now. No doctor can tell you with certainty the disease which killed George Washington. Medical historians can read the symptoms as they were recorded and engage in reasonable speculation, but they cannot have great certitude. The likelihood is that a modern doctor could diagnose Washington's illness, but he would need to have Washington in the here and now in order to examine him. The strength of scientific investigation is its precision, but the same precision is its major weakness. Distance – either in time or space – from the subject renders science impotent.
One further observation is necessary regarding the temporal limits of science. Scientists can only examine cause and affect where the span of the reactions involved is relatively short. They can only observe reactions which occur in units of time accessible to themselves. Experiments require even shorter expanses of time. It is truly impossible for scientists to speak authoritatively about physical reactions which allegedly take place over the course of centuries, let alone eons.
This has become rather embarrassingly obvious during the fizzling debate over climate change. It is arguable that while weather is a suitable subject for science, climate is not. If climates change, they do so over a period of time which not only exceeds any human lifetime, but which is far longer than the entire history of modern science. We simply have not been recording temperatures long enough to have any data worthy of a hypothesis. Our attempts to record temperatures over time have further demonstrated how difficult it is to gather consistent data through changing decades. The idea that we can scientifically observe change over the course of centuries is profoundly uninformed. Science, then, is limited to the now, not only in that it cannot see the future or the past, but in that it cannot see the slow.
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These, then, are the limits of scientific inquiry. Those who exceed them necessarily abandon science and engage in speculation. It should be evident that society does not recognize these limits, and that in particular scientists only rarely recognize them. Disaster always awaits those who cannot acknowledge their limitations, and intellectual disaster has overtaken our society as we have elevated scientists to a godlike level of perfect understanding.
