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Alfred I. Tauber - Science and the Quest for Meaning

Alfred I. Tauber - Science and the Quest for Meaning

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G

CI ENCE and the
QE T for MEANING
Alfr d I. Taub r
In thi deeply thoughtfl expl ration,
Alfed Tauber, a pra ri ing i nti t and
highly regarded phil ph r, I quendy
tra e th hi tory of th philo ophy
of cien e, eeking in the end to pi ce
i nee within the humani ri context
fr m whi h it origin ted. Avoiding
the dogm ri m th t ha d fined b th
extr me in th recent u ien e War "
and pr enring con epti n of r on
th t Lif th di u i n out f the
interminable debate about obje riviry
and neutrality, Tauber ofer a way of
und r t nding cienc a an ev lving
relation hip b rwe n f ct nd th
value that govern their di ov ry nd
applications. Thi timely text pre ent
a centri t view "I herein "truth" and
"obje riviry" fnction a working ideal
and r a pragm tic t I . If the
hum nizarion of ien e i t reach
compl cion, it mu t reveal not only the
meaning it receiv from its s cial and
cultural erring but al o that which it
lend to them.
cienc and tle Quest for fe,ming
a ur of it read r no backgr und in
the va t Literature of cienrifc tudi
and i a tru n orthy and engaging
introdu tion to th hi tory of, and
the curr nt debate urrounding, the
philo ophy of ien e.
Science and the Quest
Í0t Meaning
Plrcd l. Áaubcr
hP1L|`KLPÎVLK¬Î¯ ÎKL¬¬
©2009 by Baylor University Press
Waco, Texa 76798
AN RgbuRom�d No pan of this publiction may be reproucd, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any mens, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying. recording or otherise, without the prior permission
writing of Baylor University Press.
L»vnDogby Stee Scholl, The WaterStone Ancy
L»vnImg�s: Lonardo DaVinci's Vitrvian Man ©istockphoto.com/joiecostC
Ancient map on lether ©istockphoto.com/muratsen. Used with prmission.
Libr of Congress Cataloging-in-Publiction Data
Taubr, Alfed I.
Science and the quet for meaning I Alfd I. Tauber.
p. cm.
Include bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978- 1 -60258-21 0- 1 (hardcover : alk. paper)
Î. Science--Philosophy. 2. Science and the humanities. I. Title.
Q1 75.T2245 2009
501 --dc22
200901 0375
Printed in the United States of Americ on acid-free paper with a mimimum of
30o pe content.
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Contents
Ackow|cdgmcnts D
Introductìon.Lenccrnìng5cìcntìhcKcæon l
WbztIs5cìcncc! Zl
2
Nìnctccntb-ccntuqFosìtìvìsm 4º
3
1bcíz||eIFesìtìvìsm 77
4
1bc5cìcnccWzrs l 0º
J
Scìcncc ìnlts5ocìo-po|ìtìcæLontcxts l 33
Lonc|usìon.1bcLbz||cngceILebcrcncc l 65
Notcs
l 87
Ke!crcnccs ZZ3
Io
dcx
Z47
Acknowled
g
ments
1hìs book ¡oìns tbc wo sìdcs eItbc dìvìdc bcwccn scìcncc znd tbc
humznìtìcs. I bzvczrrìvcdztmyownpcrspcctìvcIremmevomtìons.A
zrcsczrcbpbysìcìzn, I spcnt mcntyycznoImymrccrcnggcd ìnìnvcs-
tìgztìons oItbcbìocbcmìstqeItbc ìnhzmmztoq rcsponsc. 1bztwork
spznncd tbchc|dseIhcc-rzdìcz| cbcmìstq, protcìn cbcmìstq, cc|| bìo|-
o@,zndmo|ccu|zrbìo|o@.Wìtbsomcevcr|zp,Idcvotcdznotbcrmcnq
yczrstotbcbìstoqzndpbì|osopbyoInìnctccntb- zndwcntìctb-ccntuq
bìo|o@,wìtbpznìcu|zrstudìcdcvotcdtotbcdcc|opmcnteIìmmuno|-
o@' sbzsìctbcorìcs,tbcp|zccoIrcductìonìsmìn bìomcdìcìnc, zndmost
rcccnt|y,tbcìntcrscctìonoIscìcncczndmom|pbì|osopby.Scmc� an th�
Çs:::/-Meaning ìn mznywzys comp|ctcs tbcpro¡cct tbzt bcgn wìtb
my trznsìtìon hom z |zborztoqscìcntìst toz pbì|osopbcrzndbìstorìzn
o!scìc
ncc.buì|dìngzbrìdgcbcmccntbcscwodomzìnsbæbccnzrìcb|y
r
wzr
dcdìntc||ocndczvor,onczssìstcdbymznystudcnts,co||czgucs,
a
nd| rìcn
ds.1ozcknow|cdgcz||tboscwbobzvczìdcdmcsìmp|yrcsìdcs
bc
yo
n
d my
sorq mcmoq, but bob Lobcn, Hì|zqFutnzm, znd|ebn
5ta
chc|dcscncspccìz|zcknow|cdgmcntIortbcìrsupportzndguìdzncc.
I
hzvc
dcvc|opcd my ìntcrprctztìen eIscìcncc 8 zn ìntc||cctuz|
ao
d
c
u|turz| zctìvìtyhem z prìvì|cgcd posìtìon.¸ 5ìncc l ºº3, I bzvc bzd
thc
good Io
rtunc eIsuncyìng scìcncc studìcs zs Oì rccter oIboston
Unìvcrsìty's LcntcrIor Fbì|osopbyznd HìstoqoI5cìcncc.1bcLcntcr,
X SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
crczrcd ìn ¹º60,ìsrhce|dcsrzndenceIrhcmesr dìsrìnguìshcd Ierums
Iersche|zr|ydìscussìenseIrhchìsreq, phì|esepby,zndsecìe|e@eIscì-
cncc, mzrhcmzrìcs, znd |egìc. 1hìs beek, ìn|zrgcpzn, ìs z dìsrì||zrìen
eImy ìnrc||ccruz| cxcìrcmcnr srìmu|zrcd byrbccrudìrìenzndcrczrìvc
ìnrcrprcrzrìvc ìnsìgbrseIeurvìsìrìngscbe|zrs znd rcsìdcnr Ic||ews. 1bc
Lcnrcr`s besren Le||eguìum Ier Fhì|esephyeIScìcncc bæbesrcdevcr
800|ccrurcssìncc l ºº3|lnrbcrìcbdìz|eguctbzrrbccprcscnmrìensbzvc
srìmu|zrcd,lhzvcwìrncsscdrhcgrewtbzndcve|urìeneIrbescdìscìp|ìncs
dcvercdrerbcsrudyeIscìcncc. 1hìs beekìs ner z prccìs erevcnìceI
scìcncc srudìcs, bur rzrbcrz rcperr eImyewn vìcws, wbìcb mzy Izìr|y
bcj udgcd zs ìdìesyncrzrìc whcn mczsurcd zgzìnsr rhc vzsr mzjerìqeI
srudìcspub|ìsbcdìnrhìshc|d.lndccd,l Ircc|yzdmìrrhzrmybumznìsrìc
erìcnrzrìen ìszr eddswìrhrhcrcmpcreIrbcrìmcs. A||rbcmercræen
reehcrrhìsznzIysìs|
Merc ìmmcdìzrc|y, rhìs beek crysrz||ìzcd zreund me eImy |cc-
rurcszndrhcdìscussìenssurreundìngrhcm. 1hchrsr,"Scìcnccmdrhc
Humznìrìcs,"wzsdc|ìvcrcdzrrbcLurepczn KcgìenzILenIcrcncceIrbc
bezrdeIGevcrnerseI1c|AvìvUnìvcrsìty(bcr|ìn,Aprì|¹, Z005).1bzr
pzpcrwzs cxpzndcd ìnrez sccend prcscnrzrìen, "Scìcncc znd Kczsen,
Kæen znd ízìrh.A Kznrìzn Fcrspccrìvc," Ierrhc Hcrbcrt H. Kcyne|ds
Lcrurcsbìpzr bzy|erUnìvcrsìty Qznuzq3 l , Z006) znd |zrcrpub|ìsbcd
(1zubcr Z007) . Appreprìzrc re ìrs gcncsìs, rbìs beek bzs bccn nur-
rurcd byLzrcy Ncwmzn znd rhc srzheIbzy|er Unìvcrsìty Frcss, znd
l rhznkrhcm IerrhcìrpreIcssìenz|ìsm zndchccrìvcchertsenbcbzIIeI
rbìspre¡ccr. I hzvcz|se prehrcd Irem mygrzduzrc znd undcrgrzduzrc
scmìnzrs bzscd en rhìsrcxr zr besren Unìvcrsìry (Z005) znd 1c| Avìv
Unìvcrsìry(Z006),whcrcmysrudcnrshc|pcdmcIrzmczndzrtìcu|zrcrbc
ìssucsdìscusscdìnrhcboek. I zmpzrrìcu|zr|yzpprccìzrìvcrerbcskcprìc
whechz||cngcdmyrhcsìszndprevekcdmcremercc|czr|yzrgucìumc.
l wì|| ner cnumctzrcrhcmznyce||czgucszndIrìcndswìrhwhem I bzvc
prehrzb|ycxp|ercdrhcspccìhcìssucsprcscnrcdìnrhìsbeek,bur lcxrcnd
zspccìz|rhznkrerhescwherczdrhìs mznuscrìprzr vzrìeussrzgcseIìrs
preducrìen: Lhz|mcts L|ztk, Mcnzchcm íìsch, Scerr Gì|bcrr, Lbzr|cs
Grìswe|d, Wa|rct Hepp, Adì Ophìr,|enzrhzn Frìcc, Fcrcr Scbwzrrz,
SrcvcScu||y, znd|ehn Srzchc|. I musr sìng|ceur KegcrSmìrb,wbe, Ier
mznyyczts, hasptoddcd mcrorcrhìnkmypesìrìenszndreprebcmerc
dccp|y ìnre rhc ìssucs dcsctìbcd hctcznd ìn tc|zrcd pub|ìmrìens. 1besc
gcnctous cñotrs ztc much apptccìarcd. Fì nz||y, I rhznkmywìIc, Fzu|z
ACKNOWEDGMENTS X
írcdrìkscn, whehzsz|wzybccn mymestconsìstcntzndchcctìvcìntcr-
|ocuter.1hìsstudyìsdcdìmtcdtemyIrìcndHzILhurchìI|,ìnthchepcs
hcwìI|rczdìt. Hz|pcnenìhcsthcmrìngphyìcìzn,zmzndcvetcdtescì-
cncczndìuhumznczpp|ìmtìen,seI rcgrdthcmcss@ccenvcycdhcrcz
tcstzm
cnttehìsewncemmìtmcnts.
Fertìens eIthìs beek hzvc bccn cu||cd Irem prcvìeus|y pub|ìshcd
mztcrìzIwhcrcI dcz|twìthvzrìeuszræeIcentcmpemscìcnccstudìcs.
Somcìssucs,suchæthczcthctìcdìmcnsìeneIscìcntìhcìnguìq(1zubcr
l ºº0z) znd thc "bìe-pe|ìtìczI" chzrzctcr eIme|ccu|zrbìe|e@ znd ccr-
tzìnzspcctseIìtszpp|ìmtìenzrc |eng-stzndìngìntcrcsueImìnc (5zrkr
znd 1zubcr l ºº l , 1zubcr znd 5zrkzr l ºº2, l ººJ, 1zubcr l ºººc) .
Thc mercspccìhc prejcct eIundcntzndìngthc bctlvz|uc rc|ztìenshìps
opcrztìvc ìnnìnctccnth-ccntuqscìcncczppczrcd ìnmycxzmìnztìen eI
HcnqOzvìd1heræu'srcspensctethcæccndzntpesìtìvìsmeIthztcrz
(200l ) . I cxtcndcd thzt æc study ìn Patmt Autonomy
and th� Ethis of
Rtsponibilit (2005z) , ìnwhìch I censìdcrcd thc rc|ztìenshìpeImcdì-
cìnc's cpìstcmeIe@zndcthìc. Kcy pzsszgcs Iremvzrìeuswerk hzvc
bccn cxccrptcd znd rcIermu|ztcd Ier thìs boek. Accerdìng|y, I hcrcby
zcknew|cdgc pcrmìssìen te rcprìntcdìtcd pertìens eIthcsc prcvìeus
pob|ìmtìens. "5cìcnccznd rczsen, rcæen znd bìth.AKzntìznpcrspcc-
tìvc"(2007,J07~J0), "Le|e@zndthcc|zìmsIerzscìcncc-bzscdcthìc"
( l ºº8, l 85~200),rcìcweITh� Hitorogaph ofContnporar Scmc�
and
T
�chnolg ( l ºººb,J8�0l ).
besmwcn,NcwHzmpshìrc
Nevcmbcr2008
ÍntrOduCtìOn
Concernin
g
Scientifc Reaon
quoetteq¬oauiomam�øe)mbecþpetboo, itmmtbxem�
¡biksepbuaIaodmmt¬mapeoatbemagbonome)iuemo)amnem.
AhmNemWhitehed, So¬c�aodtb�Med werU
Growing up in the Sputnik er during the 1950s, I enjoyed what appe
now to have been a unique education. Science assumed an imponance
hitherto unimagined prior to the Soviet challenge, and to prepare the
countr for possible asault, beside air raid simulations, I studied "new
math" and wa enrolled in advanced science courses. Drilled in fcts, dis·
ciplined in scientifc method, and buoyed by the wonder of nature, I saw
a fture bright with the scientifc enterprise. Perhaps I too would become
an investigator. In that spirit, an even more imponant foundation was
being set for myelf, namely a sense that science ofered something close
to
true knowledge as the technical master of nature proceeded with
breath·taking achievements. Weren•t we about to embark for the moon?
Such mammoth enterprises were undenaken under the banner of truth,
and truth wa attained through objective methods. It seemed that science
defned its own domain, and not only remained insulated fom common
human foibles, but followed methods that revealed Truth. This "Legend"
(K
itc
her 1993), simple and distorted as it might be, nevertheless was
cheris
hed by its believers. Indeed, ever Saturday morning Mr. Wizrd
app
e
ared on television to elucidate nature•s mysteries, and thereby
2 SciENCE AD THE QuEsT FOR MENING
confrm the precepts taught to me. The shades of grey were apparent on
the scren; the color were not. That wa the world in which I awakened,
one seemingly simpler than today.
Of course, doctrine is fted for reftation, which already had com­
menced even a I wa leing the solar sytem model of the atom. The
philosophy of science that framed my generation's eduction still pro­
moted a stark nineteenth-centur positivism. The term positivism refers
to a philosophy of "positive" (objective) knowledge, which mens, sim­
ply, that valid knowledge is scientifc; fcts are the currenc of knowledge;
accordingly, forms of knowledge that do not subscribe to the scientifc
method cnnot be validated. Positivism thus rested, ultimately, on the
separation of "fcts" fom "values."
Valuts were usually considered a catchall for subjectivity, but of
course, titmic valuethose value that made fcts, fct (e.g., objectiv­
ity, neutralit, coherence, parimony, predictability)-were integrl to the
scientifc enterprise.
!
And bond recognizing the divere vlue tat must
be employed to create objective fcts, the overlap of so-called "subjec­
tive" value in constructing scientifc knowledge ha increingly bme
apparent.
Indeed, much of the scholarhip over the pat ffy ye charcterizing
scientifc practice and ther formation ha shown that the relationships
beteen fcts and value, een within the narrow confnes of labortor
investigations, cannot be neatly divided beteen "objective" and "sub­
jective" domains. And when the doors of the laborator are fung open
and the applictions of reearch are considered, the complex relationship
of fcts and values becomes even more convoluted. Factoring out the
ever-present commercial aspects of investigtions, a well a the various
agendas of government-supponed research for milita or economic gin,
the objective/subjective schema simply defes the social and conceptual
realities of scientifc inquir.
The irony of science ponraying itself as a fantasy-a restfl space
for logic and rational deliberation a sole determinants of research, one
that would achieve some utopian respite from the tribulations of human­
derived confsion-is a story which has been told from many points
of view. Here I will narrate how the conceptual scaf olding supponin
g
the castle in the sky fell and then ofer a summar of the post-Sputnik
description that replaced it. Coupled to that dismantling of the L
nd,
we will surey the cultural war that commenced with the repor of rei-
INTRODUCTION )
si
onist historians, sociologists, and philosopher of science. Citizn activ­
ists joined them under the belief that characterizing (and controlling)
s
ci
en
ce
wa too imporant to leave to the self-appraisals (and choice) of
s
cien
tists
alone. This book is about that seismic intellectua and politi­
@
shif, and perhaps, in a sense, it is a revised narrative about my own
y
outhfl naivete.
Philosophically, the positivist progrm þto crumble during the
early 1950s (Friedman 1999), and with the los of it intellectua domi­
nance, a critica chorus challenged the authority of a doctrinaire scien­
tifc method and its hegemonic form of knowledge. From that disenting
position, science appeared to have spun into its own orbit. Instead of
celebrating the polyphonic contributions of all sectors of scholarship,
competing science/anti-science cmps assembled along academic lines,
in which the scientifc illiterc of the literti and the deaes of scien­
tifc technocrats precluded meaningfl dialogue. C. P. Snow fmously
described this rif in terms of "Two Cultures," inamuch a the sociolo­
gies and modes of discoure of ech group had rdically diverged (Snow
1
959/196). A more daning apprasal remained unwritten: becuse of
its succes and it independence of the larger philosophical contet fom
which it emerged, science wa regarded as an unruly adolescent, fl of
itself, brimming with confdence and even arrogce, overowing with
its power and promise.
Having assumed a unique place in the acdemic pantheon, science
pursued its own agenda with confdence and little concern for relat­
ing to its "distant relations." This division was well underay by the
mid-nineteent cntur, when the tin forcs of profesionaiztion ad
positivism drove the scientist to distant lands, where he lened ne lan­
guages, adopted peculiar mores, and cultivated paricular industries. A
Wilfrid Sellars noted (writing a a philosopher):
The scientifc pictur of the wrld r�/cn the cmmon-sense pictur . . .
the scientifc accunt of" what there is" sapm�dthe decriptive ontolog
of eerday life . . . . [l] n the dimension of decribing and eplaining the
wo
rld, scienc is the meure of all thing, of what is that it is, and of what
is
not that it is not. (SeUer l 997,82-8J,emphais in origina)
He
re,
"co
mmon-sense" is a placeholder for æthose mode of knowing
eclipsed by the triumph of science's worldview.
Hum
anists fered an imbalanc in to domains. The frst W intel­
l
ectual:
Humaist vieed science a as uming imperialistic ambitions in
4
SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENING
the attempts to apply its methods and logic in arenas where heretofore it
had not ventured. This so-called scientism (the belief that virualy any­
thing worth knowing or understanding may be approached scientifcly
and given scientifc explanation) had been on the positivists' agenda for
over a centur, but by mid-tentieth centur, humanists actively charged
that such scientistic claims were by their ver nature flible, since rdi­
c objectivity had repeatedly been defated by showing how pernicious
cultural determinants infuenced scientifc inquir and interpretation.
Despite its filures, the positivism that dominated the natural and social
sciences asserted a rigid factuality to what constituted knowledge, and
that standard, broadly applied, would devalue other forms of inquir.
Thus, as a purely intellectual confict, most scientists and humanists
found themselves on diferent sides of the demarction lines outlined by
the positivist program.
The political and social domain was the second area where science
posed a threat to the humanities. Despite the technical achievement of
science, humanists rightly fered the imbalanced infuence of the science
"lobby," whose authority reted on the economic bounty indebted to scien­
tifc advancs. The Two Culture divide W, cnsequently, a an epre­
sion of how science, largly a a reult of its material suO, increingly
dominated public policy decisions and eductional resources. The social
apparatus that suppred the scientifc enterprise rnged fom te educ­
tional reform stimulated by the Sputnik challenge to scientifc industries
promoting their vested interests. Beyond the technolog sold domesti­
cally in the West, these industries were prominently energizd by what
Eisenhower menacingly decribed a a militar-industria complex, which
prominently displayed its products in Vietnam and later in Iraq. Many
were troubled by the danger of misplaced applictions (lik nucler pwer)
and, even more, by a kind of politicl arrognce that semed to acmpany
the power of unbridled technolog. Thee matter, while germane, 8 not
our subject. Here, sufce it to note that by the end of the 1950s, science
eduction dominated other forms of knowing, so that a gentle specie of
scientism seeped into the schols educting the Baby Boomer. Dissenting
voice, of coure, attempted to fnd the humane within the scientifc enter­
prise (Conant 1953; Brnowsk 1956), but with nucler war thretening
civiliztion on the one hand, and the recent conquet of plio on te other,
science (abeit, a particular positivist vision of it) and derivative technolo­
gie wer grbbing all the hedlineand the mone.
I NTRODUCON 5
A science assumed a new degree of independence based on its ever­
in
creasing authority, the disciplines of histor and philosophy of science
morphed into a ne species. They flled a gping hole. Afer all, as Thoma
Kuh
n noted, scientists generally are not interested in their own histo­
ri
es, much les the philosophy underirding their discipline (Kuhn 1962,
19
70). But beyond this professional separation, the respective ways of
th
inking seemed foreign to each other, thus cross-feniliztion had become
in
creasingly barren. Ironically then, coincident with Snow's critique, the
original cuturl divide begn to mend in an unpredictable way as inter­
disciplinar studie of science achieved ne sophistiction. Philosopher,
historians, and sociologists of science pursued an ambitious program to
charcteriz the labortor a an intellectual and culturl activity devoid
of positivist conceits. No longer wa science allowed to perform insulated
from outside scrtiny. Consequently, the Two Cultures mentality that
Snow and other had so recently identifed quickly collapsed a critic of
science asened challenging interpretations of what scientists did, what
philosophic strctures they employed, and how they conducted them­
selves. Today, much of what seres a debate about what science is and
what it does may be reduced to those who seek to demarcate the vari­
ous kinds of trth claims arising fom diferent intellectual cultures fom
those who seek to bridge the apparent cham beteen them.
Indeed, scienc wa wrenched back from its isolated status, and the
Two Cultures were melded back to one with a vengeance. Paul Feyerabend
in Againt MtthoJ ( 1975) attacked the sacrosanct status of scientifc ratio­
nality; Kuhn's Stctrt of Sctntfc Rtvoluton ( 1962) rejected claims
to orderly scientifc progres; and Michael Polanyi's Ptronal Knowltgt
(
1
962) ofered a more comprehensive appreciation of scientifc think­
ing than that profered by positivist philosophies of science. These works
marked the beginning of a new movement to study science in a broad­
ened hu
manistic and sociologic context, which employed analytic tools
q
uite
alien to the then current "internal" approaches that followed the
pos
itivist line without dissent.
While the boundary between science and nonscience sered as a
critic
al
nexus of positivist thought, the post-Kuhnian critique opened
a
schi
sm
for al to see. Indeed, the self-confdent posture of the "scien­
tifc"
su
fered from these radic criticisms, and although the work of
K
uh
n,
Feyerabend, and Polanyi took a generation to take hold, their
c
ar
dinal lessons have gained legitimacy in hard fought debates. Afer
6 SCIENCE AD TE QuE FOR MENING
zII,scìcntìhc knowIcdgc hzs ìncrcæìngIydchncd nzturzI rczIìtìcs, znd,
ìn thcgroccss, such knowIcdgc, gutztìvcIyobjcctìvcznd ncutrzI, hzd
zssumcd sccuIzrìsm´s cIoscst zggroxìmztìon to truth. lzcts zrc szcrcd.
Ocbztc mìght cnsuc zs to whzt thosc Izcts mczn znd how wc mìght
zggIythcmtosocìzIzndcconomìcgoIìq,butsuchcìrcumsgcctìononIy
hìghIìghts how ìntcrgrctztìon, undcrgìrdcd by z vzst zrrzy oIvzIucs,
dctcrmìncsthcmcoIknowIcdgcìnthcpolitcal ræm.1hztìnsìghtznd
thcæutìon ìthægcncrztcd,dztc,zt Icæt, tothcærIygznoIthcmcn-
tìcth ccntuq. Howcvcr, somcthìng ncwcmcrgcd durìng thc mcntìcth
ccntuq´s cIosìngdcædcs.
bqondzctìvcgubIìcdcbztcovcr thcdìrcctìonoIscìcntìhc ìnguìq,
thc ncw crìtìc chzIIcngcd doctrìncthc vcq notìon thzt onc couId
dcIcndzmnhod oIscìcntìhcìnguìqbuìItonzhrmdcmzrætìonoIÑcts
znd vzIucs. No Iongcrwcrc/msìmgIyÑcts. ¼hzt mì@tzggczræ z
Ñct ìn onc contcxt mìght bcrcvæIcdæ onIy z Ñctoìd, orgcrhzgs not
wcn z rcIìzbIc cIzìm orrcgn. but z morc mndzmcntzI ìuuczggærcd
ìndmìonszboutobjcctìvìqzndthcchzmctcroIÑcts.Ñcuzrcalways
groccscd¬ìntcrgrctcd,gIzccdìntosomcovcr-zrchìngcontæt¬whcthcr
ìn dcbztc zboutz scìcntìhc thcoq orzn zrgumcnt zbout socìzI goIìcy.
lnætrìæbIc mmcontæt, Ñcu mustæumcthcìrmænìnghom z unì-
vcncoIothcrvzIucdÑcts. ¼hcnzggIìcd to scìcntìhcmcthodsznd thc
Iogìcthzt@vcrnsìnvctìgtìon,thctmdìtìonzIorthodoxmcthod,whìch
gromìscd hzrd, ncutrzI Ñcu an dcrìvztìvc tmths, rwæIcd zn Lmgcror
dìsrobcd. lnthztsændzI, thccrcdìbìIìqoIscìcntìhc tctìmonybcæmc
contcntìom. 5cìcntìhcÑcts,whìchhìthcnohzdbcnthoughtoIæ ncu-
trzI, wcrc now rccognìzcd zs tzkìngon dìdcrcnt mcznìngs dcgcndìng
on Ñctors m rcmovcd homz nzrrowmnstruzIoIthcìrgIzccmcnt ìnz
modcIorthcoq.1husthc ncutrzIìqoIthcÑothzthzmcdthcìuucìn
guctìonbcæmcsusgcct, zndso thchghtovcrthcsìgnìhænccoIscìcn-
tìhchndìngtookgIzccnotonIyìn tmdìtìonzIIygrccrìbcdgroIcìonzI
cìrcIcs, butìnthccounszndIcgìsIzturcæcxgcmgìtchcdthcmscIvcìn
scnìotooncsocìo-goIìtìczIgosìtìonoranothcr.
Ocsgìtc thc rcìtcrztcd dìszvowzIs oIz vzIuc-Izdcn scìcncc, crìtìcs
hzvc cxgoscd thc ncutrzIìtyoIscìcncc zs z mcmI conccìt. lncræìngIy,
cìtìuns zrc mzìntzìnìngzvìgìIzntwztchovcr scìcncc`s ægìrztìons znd
succcsscs. 5uch zctìvìsts no Iongcr zcccgt zs dogmz thc cIzìms znd
gromìscs oIz growìng scìcntìhc Iobby. lor ìnstzncc, ìn l ºº5, crìtìcs
succcssmIIy hzItcd thc sugcrconductìngcoIIìdcrgrojcct, thc cxcmgIzr
INTRODUCTION
7
o
f
Big
Science, in what some regarded as antiscientifc conseratism
(threa
tening United States leadership in elementary particle physics),
an
d
others saw as appropriate constraint of a ravenously imperialistic
venture. This debate seems to have generated a diferent knd of activ­
is
m
than that of the previous attacks on what had been perceived as
unbridled technolog (e.g., nuclear power or environmental pollutants).
The distinction beteen science and its product, technolog, tradition­
ally aforded scientists the space to pursue their research in the inter­
ests of advancing knowledge, leaving its application to another public
forum. However, in recent decdes the notion of science in the pursuit
of knowledge, research for the pursuit of truth, has been challenged by
a ravenous technolog that has come to dominate science, reversing the
historical relationship beteen basic investigation and its application
(Forman 200
7
). On this view, science no longer enjoys such latitude
in its enterprise and can no longer be regarded as some colony of its
motherland, protected from intruders that might invade its sanctioned
ways and proftably tap its resources. Indeed, a contemporar ponrait
of science must account for its social character in a complex calculus,
where science is understood as subject to powerfl economic and politi­
cal interests, and, in turn, pursues its own agenda for its own panicular
gain. This understanding rests on a multi-layered cultural and intellec­
tual histor.
How science is understood determines how its knowledge is applied.
If the positivist program assens that such and such is the case, and if
the public relies on the cenainty of such claims, then the authority of
scientifc knowledge achieves high standing. If, on the other hand, sci­
entifc knowledge is regarded as alway fllible and its methods always
in question, then scientifc claims will be vieed with more circumspec­
tion. Following Kuhn and Feyerabend, a deluge of sociologically oriented
critic lookng at what scientists actually did, a opposed to the idelized
philosophica claims made on their behalf, brought science well within
the fold
of other forms of truth seekng. ¨ Science-studies philosophers,
his
tor
ians, and sociologists converged on depicting scientifc practice on a
p
ragmatically based epistemolog (replacing reifed method and verifc­
tio
n).
Co
nsequendy, the insularity of the laborator and the truth claims
made under its man de were increasingly called into question. These re­
s
ess
ments rallied "defenders" of science to protect the perceived assaults
o
n
objec
tivity and rational discourse made by "postmodern enemies of
8 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEING
the Enlightenment." The resulting "Science Wars" of the 1990s brought
to clima conficts that had simmered for decdes.
The intellectual studies of science complemented social forces that
opened science, as an institution, to new kinds of scrutiny. A a result,
science lost its privileged state: its epistemological authority lacks its for­
mer sacrosanct status; its practice no longer commands the awe enjoyed
before World War II; and the queries of concerned citizens cn no lon­
ger be dismissed as the ramblings of the naive. The politica chorus has
become more brazen in its efronter, stopping cenain kinds of science
and directing others through more rigorous administrative control. A
unifed culture, where scientists and activists meet on equal footing, has
developed in the world of public policy, but not necessarily with salu­
tar results for utopian-minded science enthusiasts, who sought a more
complete independence and authority. The Science Wars may have for­
mally been declared in the 1990s, but the skirmishes had been passion­
ately fought since the end of World War II. And with the recent radical
politiciztion of science, from the global warming "debate" to public
fnancing of stem cell research, the battles over science have achieved a
feverish pitch. I choose not to argue over the specifcs of these polemic,
but rather to highlight how the doors of the laborator were fung open
and ponder some of the consequences of science reassessed.
Gener Teme
This book ponray science from a humanistic perspective, which vies
science not simply as an establishment seeking objective knowledge, but
as a panicipant in the subjective interpretations of human undertand­
ing of the nature, society, and the human mind. On this vie, character­
izing science in a positivist modality narrowly distorts how it fnctions
in advanced industrial societies; frthermore, such strictures miscon­
strue what science is. Indeed, the histor of science as an idea requires
both a description of an intellectual and technical enterprise, a well 8
an account of how the picture of reality that science presents impacts
on our personal understanding of the world. That world is not just the
natural environment, the human body, and the stellar sky, but includes
more intimately our placement in that cosmos and the characteriztion
of our own human nature. Most studies of science focus on science itself:
here, we will examine the broader concerns to show how our curren
t
INTRODUCTION
9
un
derstandings of scientifc knowledge impact on our deepest notions
o
f re
ality.
This analysis seek to lessen the tension beteen to ways of expe­
riencing nature. On one vie, science presents an objective picture, one
th
at it has been obtained by a stark separtion of subject and object. The
contrasting vision, the one characterizd by contemporar science studies
and in
debted to the romantic, understands science a melding various
ways of knowing and drawing from many reseroirs of cultural infu­
ences. Each perpective accepts that science ofer a unique way of depict­
ing reality, but the former admit no subjective element into its process,
while the latter argues that the subjective remains constitutive to the
scientifc endeavor at eer level. The diference in how we understand
science, both in its process of generating knowledge and utilizing that
information, is analogous to the contrast beteen the black and white
television screen of the early 1950s, and the brilliant color and stereo
sound system of contemporar high defnition television. The frst rep­
resents the conception of science based on a simple objectivit limited by
a relatively primitive circuitr and vacuum tubes, in contrat to today's
more complex undertanding of science constructed fom the electronic
and satellite trsmisions of a digital age. Early televisions have nostal­
gic value and historicl interet, but they could not meet our deire for
the most sophisticted and accurate trnsmision of the eent we watch.
Indeed, why would we cling to an outmoded technolog? The implicit
question posed here flls into the sme pattern: Why would we accept a
description of contemporar science that gives a limited, even distorted,
image? The new picture we have at our disposal results from ffy years
of science studies that ha developed way of undertanding the complex
instit
ution we call science in ways that are radically diferent from the
descriptions ofered prior to 1960. This book charcteriz those difer­
e
n
ces
and draws a set of conclusions that presents science as a vibrant,
p
e
rso
nal apect of our live.
ïa:»::and the Quest fr Meaning underscores post-positivist insight
and
explores how objective knowledge becomes integrated into our per­
sona
worl
dvies. This is an old problem. Before the rise of nineteenth­
c
e
nt
ur
po
sitivism, the romantics sought to cohere the world-the
s
u�
je
ct
ive
and objective; the positivists would disjoint that efort. l
b
el
a
eve
we must revisit the problem and seek ne responses. So beyond
t
h
e
div
e
re material. and social roles of science in contemporar Western
10
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
societies, I am concerned here with the profound ways in which sci­
ence frames the way in which we conceive the world and ourselves in
it. Indeed, I maintain that the deepest conceptions of Western human
being take root in the complex mulch of scientifc fct and theor. The
metaphysic of selfood, society, and nature each take hold in the real­
ity science presents to us, so on this view, the translation of knowledge
to mening represents the fna step of the scientifc endeavor. Aer all,
science began with the desire to master nature coupld to probing the
wonder of nature's mysteries for human understanding. This latter meta­
physical pursuit ofen remains obscured by the technical triumphs of
modern science. I wish to remind that this dual agenda ha always guided
the scientifc enterprise.
To begin, we will review the diverse roles of science in contempo­
rar Western societies and the many kinds of reason it employ. The
reasons of science refer to a conceptual precis of scientifc methods and
the philosophies that explain kowledge acquisition. The reaons fr sci­
ence point to several fcets: science's general (and most obvious) task of
promoting technological growth; its putative neutral role in adjudict­
ing the socio-political debates over social policy; and its peraive impact
on existential and metaphyical formulations of the character of human
nature, the place of humans in nature, and the nature of being. So to
cpture its philosophical character, science must be regrded fom at least
three vantages-pistemological, ethical, and metaphysical.
Reason's confguration in science has always been contested, ftfl,
and confsing, and, needles to say, it ha hardly achieved stability or een
clea demarctions. We too must establish our own undertding of rea­
son, and at this time, a pluralistic picture dominates. That evluation rets
on several descriptions that have emerged fom recent science studie: (1)
the "boundar question" depicting the elasticity of the borders defning
science; (2) the constructivist elements in the production of scientifc
knowledge; (3) the juxtaposition of epistemic and nonepistemic value in
the creation of fcts and the exercise of scientifc judgment; and (4) the
more general changing relationships of fcts ad values, which interplay
in the creation of scientifc kowledge and its appliction. Each of these
issue may be trced to a relaation, if not collapse, of the fct/value dis­
tinction, which in my vie clerly demarcte the positivist vie of scienc
e
from everything that followed positivism's demise. This book explores
both how this diferent understanding of scientifc reaon emerged and
I NTRODUCTION I I
t
he
wa
y in which such a description accounts for science's epistemolog
and
its
socio-political applictions. Indeed, discerning and then establish­
ing
scie
nce's philsophical position on the coordinates of fact and value
Jink
the
wide epanse of contempor scienc studie.
Reason ha many forms and expressions, which assume their char­
act
eristic
use in various contexts (i.e., scientifc inquir, discourse, and
interpretation). For instance, one format considers the relationship of
"resons" and "cuse" in the sense that Donald Davidson argued, namely,
that reason not only explains actions, but also causes them (1980). In
another contet, reon fnctions in diverse activities, modes of thought
and cognition, which address ( 1) the aims of science, (2) the methods
employed to achieve those goals, and (3) the theories and claims aris­
ing fom this venture (Ludan 1984a). Distinctive rules and logic govern
these diferent forms of scientifc rationality. Thus scientifc rationality
holds no single approach nor posses es an encompasing logic. A difer­
ent role for reaon, and, consequently, a diferent charcteriztion, results
from science's cultura role. Driven by diverse forces-social, political,
economic, historicl, culturl, and so fonh-and governed by a complex
range of moral, logicl, aethetic, and psychological modes of thought,
science responds to many agendas. Indeed, the requirement to satisf
so many mater ha stmied formal attempts to defne science's reason
beond the looset of defnitions.
This complexity refects the conceptual heterogeneity of science
itself and its commanding presence in contemporar industrial societies.
Science (at leat a usually conceived) powerflly shapes cognition, and
in
one
sense, defnes what i as its methods prominently establish stan­
d
ards of
knowledge. This authority creates a tension: on the one hand,
s
c
ience instantiates a panicular form of Western reason (irrespective of
its va
rious modalitie), which must take its place at the table with other
for
ms of
knowledge. So the question arise, How is scientifc knowledge
in
teg
rate
d into the social and psychological lives of us all? This issue
ho
w
coherence may be sought among competing individual needs, social
de
m
ands,
and variou forms of experiencereturns to the dilemma of
r
e
a
o
n's
unity. Obviously diferent faculties of knowing are at play. The
c

a
lenge is to give proper balance to each. Three ke points of integra­
tto
n
are
dis
cussed here:
{
1
)
The Two Cultres. Scienc no longer rsides outside the humani­
ti
e a
some distant colony of acdemic inquir. Sociologists have
SciENCE AND TE QuET FOR MENING
incorporated the laborator within a more general sociolog of
kowledg; historians have shown te jolted eolution of scienc
a anything but strictly rtional in it progres; and philosopher
have discounted formalism ad paricular logic a so much con­
ceit, tus laying the fundtion for undertanding scienc's epis­
temolog wit a pragmatic ee. Collectively, scienc studie hav
e
tus demonstrated te diversit of cognitive metods ad etra­
curricular infuences governing scientifc practice. These char­
acteriztions resonate with te general principles of sociolog of
kowledg. On tis vie, scienc ha ben dethroned &m it spe­
cial positivist pedetal, and a One Culture mentlit hemerged
to challenge the Two Culture picture of science in societ. This
new view presents science a open to the same general analysis
applied to other sociologie of kowledg. Howeer, te older pic­
ture of science puruing it own eoteric agenda, leves the Two
Culture divide dominating populr conceptions of science. The
perspective adopted here argues the ce for One Culture. Aer
æ, while the Two Cultre division fmed the debate about sci­
enc in the nineteenth cntur and well into the tentieth, now
we fce the challenge of understading the myriad connections
that place science frmly in it supponing cultureintellectua,
political, and social.
(2) Sr� Æpolt. The pliticl cer of scienc hbe n epose
in a multitude of public ana, ad tu the rlationship of scienc
a a mminstitution with it supprting culture demands citizn
control of the scientifc product. Broadly construed, this latter
matter is strctured by the etic of Mch, the politicl U
of
scientifc knowled a applied in public plic, ad the interr·
tion of scientifc fnding a underto in the cntet of cmp
le
hU nees.
(5) P�ronal knowldg�. The tensions so evident in the social sph
ere
operate as well at the level of the individual. Indeed, the mo
s
t
imponant of my broader concerns cnsider various repons
es t
o
making the worldvie scienc ofers one's own. In Decrtes' for·
mulation of fM cogtn (mind) and fM CM (matter), humans
self-consciously peer at the world-fndamentally separate a
n
d
distinct. He thus framed the basic question of the modern
era
.
namely, how might integrtion be achieed? This challenge
t
he
INTRODUCTION 1
3
ultimate question posed by modernity's preoccupation with plac­
ing oneself in an alien world-is no less than the problem of fnd­
ing meaning in a world devoid of enchantment.
To describe these three domains, my project employs a distinctive
architecture. Consider a room in the mansion of the mind, where rea­
s
on
res
ides
divided beteen its divere serices to science and nonscienc.
This chamber we will cl Reaon Dividd. On this commonly conceived
division, science employs one kind of objective reason-strict and rigor­
ously defned by logical rules-and other forms of inquir must rely on
diferent forms of reason that address the subjective. ´ Admittedly this
stark contrast only holds at the extremes. Afer all, legal argument and
journalism, for example, model themselves on the same kind of objec­
tivit one hopes to fnd in the laborator. Thus scientifc thinking fre­
quently seres as the standard by which other disciplines aspire to be
rational. So note, the rationality and logic employed by scientists is not
at issue. Instead, critic have largely focused their attacks on "scientism,"
which would inappropriately apply a scientifc orientation to subjects not
acc
e
ssible to such methods.
Scientism expresses itself in at leat three way: (1) the sciences better
capture "reality" than other disciplines (e.g., for E. 0. Wilson, science
will
eventually not only unif thought but reduce human behavior and
culture to a biological formulation [ 1998]); (2) scientifc methodolog
trumps
other forms of knowing (e.g., Ernest Rutherford's quip, "there
i
s ph
ysics and there is stamp collecting" [Blackett 1963, 1 08]); and (3)
1
philosophical problems essentially reduce to scientifc problems, then
"p
hilosophy of science is philosophy enough" (Quine 1953d1976, 149).
Each
of
these assenions rests on the fndamental notion that reality is
co
nso
na
nt w
ith, if not superimposable on, the picture science ofers.
If contemporar science studies have a general ethos, I think it is to
r
e
fu
t
e these p
resumptions, a tak largely accomplished. Indeed, we are at
th
e
e
nd of positivism's fl (Zammito 2004). Not only have the domains
ª�
s
c
ie
n
ce
assu
med ne, fzy, and mobile borders, the ver judgment of
SCie
ntif
c reason
ha been opened to include logic constructed from vari­
o
us
s
o
ur
ces
and directed towards diverse ends. In shon, science has many
r
c�
on
s
,
so
me
of which are strictly confned to rle construed as objective
�� _
ot
h
e
rs not.
Here, pragmatism rules. So in the adjoining room, Reaon
�'"
·1

sc
ien
ce is pan of a greater domain
of inquir. This side seeks a
sc•
e
n
c
e f
ull
y integrated with the larger
humanistic inquir,
incorporating
I
4
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
personal and social values instead of excluding them, seeking synthesis
in place of insular division, and employing eclectic modes of knowing
insted of restricted and narrow means of knowledg acquisition. A group
of values for this venture command attention quite diferent fom those
advocted by the positivists and the most recent "defender of science"
who still hold to some form of neopositivism.
Contempor science studie provide the hinge of my project that
swing open the door from the frt room to the second. Aaredy men­
tioned, insted of a Two Culture mentlit, I prefer to explore the possi­
bility of fnding a common space for to communitie that have too long
remained alienated fom ech other. Two epansive vie appe 8 the
ponal opens: Firt, scientifc practice follows the same generl social prin­
ciples found in other forms of trth seeking. Second, if scientifc thinking
heavily weighs cenain kinds of knowledge acquisition based on objetiv­
ity (and thus is guided by cenain kinds of logicl stricture and vaues),
nothing suget that this form of reon nO ily trmps other herme­
neuticl, aethetic, or intuitive forms of ron that play their own rpec­
tive role in the work of scientifc inquir.
If we understand that human reon exhibits diverse logic ad that
science is constructed from various interests, values, and modaities of
knowing, then the kinds of analyses that might expose those contribu­
tions seem criticl fr a fller undertnding of scientifc thinkng. Onc
we pas through the door into a larger intellectual arena, we possess an
expanded way of thinking about science's reon, which follow fm te
enlarement of a narrowly conceived objectivit and collapse of a rigid
fct/vaue distinction. Funher, onc we undertand a wider ary of va·
ue 8 contributing to scientifc knowledge and allow them their rigtf
place in the calculus of knowing, opponnity beckons for scienc to join
a larger menu of concerns than its traditional tin roles of supponin
g
technological innovation and mater of nature.
On this vie, we might replace the scienc/nonscienc demaction
with another duality, putting science's pragmatic concerns on one side
and scienc 8 part of a larger intellectual enterrise on the other. Scienc
then resides on both sides of the divide. The pragmatism of scien
tifc
practice describes local realities containing various objects of inquir.
defning them 8 they are manipulated and used 8 tools towads fnding
ne objects and the relations beteen them. A second dimension of
s
ci·
INTRODUCTION I
S
co

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r
es ¾ z
bu|wzrkeIìdmìzcd mtìenæìtyzndthccthìcthztzccempmy
i t. P
unhcr
merc, thcre|ceIscìcncc ìn dchnìngpcrsenz| ìdcntìtymnnet
be o
v
er c
mphzsìzcd. mcr z|| , eurbzsìcnetìens eIhumzn nzturc znd
the
so
cìa| chzrzctcreIsecìctydcrìvcIrem thcscìcntìhccerpus ìnbeth
o
bvio
us aud
sì|cntways.1hztæpccteImìngpe|ìtìcz|ìdcntìqsucsts
th
at w
c |ìv
c ìnzn cthcr eIscìcncc ìn whìch cvcqbrczth dmws hem thc
re
ali
t
dc
pìctcdbythcscìcntìhcpìcturceIthcwer|dmdhumznmìnd.It
b
e
hoo
ves
U te
bcttcrundcntzndthztztmesphcrc.
T '
ch
arzctcrìzc scìcncc wìthìnsuch z|zrgc centcxt, I hzvczdeptcd
ª
j
Þ
at

i

u|zrvìcwpeìnt. Wc |ìvc ìnz pestpesìtìvìstzgc, chzrzctcrìzcd by
'
�P
t
l�t
s
m zb
eut Iermz| systcms, se ìnstczd eíIermu|ztìngthc lgc eI
s
�t
en
u
f
c dìscev
cq,wchzvcsctdcdIerpragatc dcscrìptìenseIscìcntìhc
t
c
o
r
an
d pra
ctìcc. Yctwìthìn thìssc|I-censcìeuszpprzìsæ, netìenseI
16
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
eb¡cctìvìtyznd truth rcmzìn æguìdìngprìncìp|cseIscìcntìhcdìsceursc
.
He|dìngtethztbz|znccdvìcwrcmzìnsthccrìtìcæìssucìncentcmpem
þ
dìscussìenszbeut thc chzrzctcr eIscìcntìhc przctìccznd ìts cenccptuz|
greundìng. I hzvc Ieur bzsìc erìcntztìens. hrst, te zveìd thc cxccsscs
znddegmztìsmeIcìthcrcxtrcmceI5cìcnccWzncemmcntµ, ncxt,
to
prcscnt zcenccptìeneIræen thzt epcns znzvcnuc euteImcìntcrmì-
nzb|cdcbztcwìthìnscìcnccstudìcszbeutthc nzturceIebjcctìvìtyznd
ncutrz|ìty, zddìtìenz||y, te p|zcc scìcncc hrmIywìthìn humznìstìccen-
ccrns thzthzvcteeehcnbccn ìgnercd, znd hnzI|y, teehcrzcenccptuz|
zpprezch Ier undcrstzndìngscìcnccæ zn cve|vìng rc|ztìenshìpbcmccn
bctszndthcvæucsthztgevcrn thcìrdìscevcqlmznubcturczndzpp|ìm-
tìens. Wìthìnthìscìrcumspcctzppm,wc mustdcIcndscìcncc'srìght-
m|cpìstcme|egìczIc|zìmshem thc æszu|ts eIrzdìcz| rc|ztìvìsts ìn erdct
tecenhrmthzttruthzndeb¡cctìvìqmnctìen,at kat, æwerkìngìdcz|s.
On thìsccntrìstvìcw,truthzndeb¡cctìvìtyhzvc|est thcìr F|ztenìcstztus
zndhzvcbccn breughtdewn te czrth te rcìdcwìthìnthcìrsecìe|egìæ
centcxt,whcrcthcyzrccmp|eycdæprzgmztìctee|s.
In sum, I zmcemmìttcd te p|zcìngscìcncc wìthìn thc humznìstìc
centcxt Iremwhìch ìterìgìnztcd. In thzt p|zccmcnt, myìntcrprctztìen
un|ecks thcìntcrp|zybcmccnscìcnccæ zncpìstcme|e@zndscìcncc¾
pzrteIz mctzphysìcæ censtructìen eIrcz|ìty. byzpprccìztìngthcwìdc
rczch eIsecìe|e@eIknew|cdg, wc zchìcvc z dccpcr cemprchcnsìene|
mcscìcntìhccntcrprìsc. Scmce and the Quest fr Meaning thus prcscnts
z dcscrìptìen eIscìcncc Iremme vzngzgc peìnts. thc ìnstrumcntæ znd
thchumznìstìc. 1hcsczrc net ncccsszrì|yeppesìng,ercvcn ìn cempctì·
tìen, but rzthcrcemp|cmcntzq. 1e dìsrcgzrd thc erìgìnz| humznìstìc
re|c eIscìcnccdìstens ìts chzrzctcr. byzcknew|cdgìng thc wendcre|
nzturc znd zsczrch Iermcznìngæ crucìzI seurcceIscìcntìhcìm@ìnz·
tìen,wcuncevcrzrìchcrzndmerccemprchcnsìvcpìcturceImedcrnscì·
cncc. 1hìse|dcrpìccceIthcsteq, Iegettcnerteeehcn ìgnercd, hnd
s
ìts rìghtm| p|zcchcrc.
Nar tve Pl
Myprccntztìen rcquìrcs nebzc@reund ìn thcvæt |ìtcmturceIscìcnO
studìc, se thcnzrrztìvcìssuìtzb|cIerthcgcncrz|rædcrerundcrgmdu·
ztc studcnt scckìngzn ìntreductìen te thìs tepìc. A phì|esephìm| tzck
ì
s
tzkcn hcrc, sewhì|cthcdìscussìen ìs Immcd hìsterìcz|Iy, much eIwh
z
t
INTRODUCTION 17
|o
||o
ws
dcp
cnds en cxp|ìcatìng thc undcr|yìngphì|esephìcs eIscìcncc,
µhìch
hzvcdemìnztcdcempctìngchzrzctcrìætìenseI|zbemteqrcsærch
ao
d
ìtszpp
|ìmtìen sìncc thc nìnctccnth ccntuq. I hzvcæumcd thzt thc
tcadcr
pe
sscsscsz bæìc knew|cdgceIphì|esephìcz| tcrmìne|e@, but ccr-
tai o
ce
mp
|cx ìssuc (such æzrgumcnuzbeut thcchæctcreIrcz|ìsm,thc
to|ceItc|ce|e@ ìn bìe|e@, znd vzrìeus thmrìceItruth) zrccxp|ìmtcd
µ
ìt
hdìsc
ursìvccndnetc.LcrtzìnkqhgurcWì||zrdY OrmznQuìnc,
Koho, Fe|znyì, ícycmbcnd,Hì|zqFutnm¬scncænedz|peìntseIthc
discussìen,butzcemprchcnsìvcdccrìptìeneIpsìtìvìsm`shìsteqzndìu
post-posìtìvìstsuccc er|ìcbqendmypunìw.Andtebz|znothìsphì|-
osophìæsuncy,duczncntìenhæbccnpzìdtethccentrìbutìenseIsecì-
o|ogìstsìnIermìngthcdemìnzntvìweIscìcnoprccntcdbc|ew. Indccd,
thc"secìe|egìcz|turn"zwzyhemphì|esephìm|mrmz|ìsmsmpturcmuch
o|oorcentcmperzqundcrstzndìngeIscìcncc.
Abrezdsuncy,ztthccxpcnsceIztepìcz|zpprezch,hzsbccnzdeptcd
totrzckthcdcvc|epmcnts ìn eur undcrstzndìngeIhew scìcncc ìscen-
doctcdzndzpp|ìcd.1hìsstmtc@dìhcnhemmestcemmcntzrìc,whìch
aoa|ycscìcncczccerdìngte pznìcu|zr peìnts eIvìcw¬|egìcz|, cpìstc-
mo|ogìæ,secìe|egìcz|,mdseIenh.Amercg|ebz|evcnìwzrìscsIrem
adccpcrdìhcrcnccthzndìvcgìngsche|zr|ymcthede|egìcsC rcvcz|. In
docceursc thc seurccseIthcscdìvcrgcntvìcws znd thcsìgnìhczncceI
thcìrdìhcrcnccswì||bccemccvìdcnt.
Chzptcr1 bcgìnswìmzgcncm|dccrìptìeneIthcìuucdìscusscd ìn
thiscsszy.1hccmzttcnìnc|udcchæctcrìzìngscìcncc( 1) mmzhumzn-
isticpcrspcctìvc,(2) æzpestpesìtìvìstcpìstcme|e@,znd(3) æmnstìtutìvc
to thcpe|ìtìcz||ìIceIWctcrnsecìctìc.Amcntìencd, myìntcrprctztìen
tcstsenzrccvz|uztìeneIthcbctlvz|ucdìstìnctìenthztmzrkcdpesìtìvìstìc
:cicocc,wìthzn undcrstzndìngeIthcìrcemp|cx ìntcrp|zyzndchzngìng
tc|
atìo
nshìps.
I |
e||ew thìscc|cctìc dcscrìptìen wìthz mercdctzì|cddìscussìen eI
c
ach
c|cm
cntzs nzrrztcd threugh thcìrhìsterìcz| dcvc|epmcnt. Lhzptcr
2
ptcsc
nts z penrzìteIthcprcvzì|ìngnìnctccnth-ccntuq phì|esephyeI
:c
ico
cc
pesìtìvìsm-whìchmeststzrk|ysctscìcnozpæhemìtse|dcr,
h
to
ad
crphì|
esephìcz| cenccrns. 1hcsgrcgtìeneIpreIcsìenz| "nztura|
ph
i|osep
hc
rs" zs "scìcntìsts" dìstìnguìshcd thcm Irem thcìr phì|esephì-
c
co||czg
ucs, neten|yenthcbzsìseIthcìrmcthede|egìcz| dìhcrcnccs,
h
ut Q
sebcmusceIthccxpcrìmcntz|ìsts` cxp|ìcìt rcjcctìen eImctzphysì-
c
a|
co
nccr
ns
(erzt |czst se thcy hepcd) . 1hcìr succcsscs grcw Irem thc
18
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
dìsmrdcdsub¡cctìvìtythzthzdchzrzctcrìzcdsemucheIremzntìcscìcncc.
íremthztpesìtìen,mctzphyìcsmzckcdeIthcsubjcctìvc(undcntod
Æ
unsubstzntìztcd). 1hcpesìtìvìstssummzrì|ythmthcbzbyeut wìth th
c
bzthwatcr. 5ecìe|egìcæ zndìntc||cctuz|dìvìsìensthuscub|ìshmccntµ-
z||y cve|vcd ìnte thc1we Lu|turcs eIthc mìd-mcntìcth ccntuq. 1hìs
hìsteqIrzmcs thc crìtìcìsm dìrcctcd zt thc prcvzì|ìngphì|esephy hc|d
by thcdcIcndcrseIscìcnccwhe centìnucte chz||cngc thcdcscrìptìens
ehcrcdbycentcmperµpestpesìtìvìstscìcnccstudìcs.
Lhzptcr 3 dcscrìbcs hew thc1we LuIturcs zssumcd z wì|d|y dìI-
Icrcntrc|ztìenshìpwìth thc rzdìcz| crìtìgucs eIscìcnccstudìcssche|zrs
durìngthc l º00sznd l º70s,whcn Kuhn,ícycrzbcnd,zndthcìrIe||ew-
crs stermcd thc cìtzdc| zndshevcd secìe|egìm| znz|yscs ìn thc bccs e|
thcìr ìncrcdu|eusscìcntìstce||czgucs. (1hcphì|esephìm| Ieundztìen e|
thcìrzpprzìsz|s hzd z|rczdy bccn sct by Quìnczbeutz dcmdc czr|ìcr.)
Oìhcrìngvìsìens hc|d bypestpesìtìvìstcrìtìc znddcIcndcrseIscìcncc
|cd te thc se-cz||cd 5cìcnccWzrs ìn thc l ºº0s. In chzptcr 4, wc wì||
rcvìcw beth thchìtm| dìscussìensznd thchczd|ìnc-grzbbìnghìstrìen-
ìc. Inthescpe|cmìc,mepe|cseIepìnìencmcgcd.enencsìdc,scìcncc
studìcscrìtìcs c|zìmcd thzt scìcncc hzd nesìngu|zr, ìdcz|ìzcd mcthed,
zndthzt ìts dìsceursccemprìscd mznydìhcrcnt,semctìmccempctìng,
IermseIrczsen. OemìnztcdbyvzrìeuskìndseIcenstructìvìstdcpìctìens
eItruth c|zìms znd thceqIermztìen, thc merc rzdìcz| ìntcrprctztìens
prcscntcdscìcncczs |ìtt|cmerc thzn z rhcterìcz| zgenìst hc|deIpe|ìtì-
m|cenhìct.1hcsc"zntì-scìcnccbzrbzrìzns"(æthcywcrcm||cdbysemc
sc|I-pmc|zìmcddcIcndcrseIscìcncc) rcprcscntcd z hìngceImnstmctìv-
ìstcrìtìcs, but thcy breught upen thccntìrc hc|deIscìcncc studìcs thc
ìrceI|zbemteqscìcntìstsznd thcìrzdvemtcs.1hcrzdìm|swcrczoscd
eIdcbzsìng thc rztìenæìtythzt hzd scncd enhedex degmzeIscìcntìhc
rcæenIerzt|czstzccntuq,zndwhì|cmucheIthcdcIcnscW justìhcd,
ccnthcmestmedcstcenstructìvìstc|zìmswcrcunjust|ydìsædcd.
A prcscntcd, thcsceppesìngpesìtìenszppærcd z|mest æmons,
but thescdcbztcs, wheschypcrbe|c must bcbrzcktcd,wcrchzrd|ytrì
v-
ìz| . 1hìs beek cxp|ercs thcìrdccpcr sìgnìhczncc. I ndccd, bcnczth thc
thcztrìcs, preIeunddìsturbznccs resc te thc surbcc, znd ìn thc beì|e
|
thztdìsputc,wc dìsccrn zmndzmcntz|cenhìctìn p|zyevcrhewtecen-
ccìvceIscìcnccznd, cvcn merc, rztìenz| dìsceursc. Fcrhzpsstì||net m||)
zpprccìztcd ìs thzt thc ìssucs undcr|yìng thcsc dcbztcs teuch ccqscc·
INTRODUCTION 1
9
tor
oIthc
pub|ìcdemzìn (c.g. , cducztìen, pe|ìtìc, rc|ìgìen,zndthc|zw)
whcrcthcrczsen thztgevcrnsscìcncchzsbccnzpp|ìcd.
Wìth
thìsbzckgreund,chzptcr5 prcscntsscìcnccìnìts|zrgcrsecìz|
ao
d
pe|ì
tìcz| centcxts, whcrc thc ìntcrp|zyeIbcts zndvz|ucs ìszmp|y
i||os
trz
tcd.
1hcgcncrz| netìen eIscìcncczs pe|ìtìc cxtcnds Iremgev-
cromcnt dc|ìbcrztìens te pcrsenz| undcrstzndìng eIscìcntìhc knew|-
cdgc. Wìthenccycceckcd tewzrdsrcccntpeIìtìcz|cvcntszndthcethcr
towards z wìdcr cenccptuz| zpprccìztìen eIthc ìntc|IcctuzI cndczver
ca||cd scìcncc, wc wì|| cxp|erc hew thc hngcrseIthc|zberateqcxtcnd
throogheutìtssuppenìngcu|turczndhewìts|cssenszrczpp|ìcdteccq
rcach eIthcsecìz|. In shen, thcbeundzrìceIscìcncczrc ìndìstìnctmd
cvcrchzngìng, whìch en|y rccmphzsìzcs hew thczpp|ìmtìenseIscìcn-
tihc knew|cdgcehcn rcsu|t ìnmerz|chz||cngcseIvzrìeus sens. In zn
cxtcodcdmscstudy,wcwì||cxzmìnchewthcvz|ucstructurceIcce|e@,
ascicotìhcdìscìp|ìnc,hæbccncxtcndcdtecnvìrenmcntz|ìsm,zpe|ìtìcæ
aodsocìz|mevcmcnt.Iwì||zgucthztbìe|e@ìncegemtcsnencpìstcmìc
va|ocs, whìch thcn zI|ew thccxtrzpe|ztìen Irem nzturz| crìtcrìz te thc
mora|tcnctscemprìsìngcnvìrenmcntz|cthìc.1hcmedemzìns,cpìstc-
mo|ogìcz|zndcthìcz|, thusmustbcrcgrdcdæevcr|zppìngzndìnIerm-
iogcachethcr.
Fìnz||y,thccenc|usìenehcrszsynthctìcpcnpcctìvcìnwhìchtechzr-
actcrìzcthcmu|tìbrìeuszctìvìtìcswccz|| scìcncc. I sccktercbz|znccthc
origi oz| pursuìts eIscìcncc, nzmc|y, thcduz|gez|seImzstcrìngnzturc
|i .c.,dcvc|epmcnteItcchne|egìcs) zndscnìngthcpursuìts eImænìng
aodsignìhmnccìnhumzntcrms.1hztdìscussìenrcstztcsscìcncc`sbrezd
homaoìstìc cemmìtmcnts te rcdrcss thc ìmbzIzncc rcsu|tìngIrem thc
htstag
cndzsuberdìnztìngthcsccend.Inerdcrtec|zrìqthìsìssucwcwì|I
coosìdcrthceut|ìnceIz phì|esephìm| evcnìcw thzt p|zccs thcpursuìt
|ot
mcanìngzgìnenzpzrwìththcprejccteIhndìngtruth. Lxtcndìng
th
csob¡cctbcyend"scìcncczndrc|ìgìen, "wcwì||cxzmìnchewscìcntìhc
k
oow
|c
dgc bccemcs "pcrsenzIknew|cdgc" (Iercxzmp|c, ìts ìmpzct en
c
xistco
tìz| ìssucs eIsc|I-ìdcntìtyerthcrc|ztìeneIhumznste nzturc). In
this
co
otcxt,z merccemp|ctc penrzìteIscìcnccæ z thceqeIthc ræ|,
a
tca|ìq
eIeur ewn, cmcrgcs. OrzwìngIremscìcncc`sewn humznìstìc
tt
adi tìeo, I zm buì|dìngzn ìntcgrztìvc pregrzm, enccenstructcdIrem
v
a
·
tio
os IermseIrczsen zndthcdìvcrsc bcu|tìcseIknewìngthztmzkc
s
ctco
c
c,
scence.4
1
Wat Is Science?
Tht point i not to stcrt objtcivit but to unttnd it.
Edmund Husser!, Tht Criis oftht Europtan Scmm
How
a
re we te ondcrstzndscìcncc! I mczn, what ìs scìcncc! Oìctìenzrìcs
o
ff
e
r
succi nct
znswcrs. Fer ìnstzncc, my unzbrìdgcd temc ehcrs hvc
d
e
fni ti ons, czch eIwhìch rcIcrs te knew|cdgc. knew|cdgczs eppescd
ro ignor
a
nce, knew|cdgczs z systcmztìc zcceonteInztorc, knew|cdgc
di
r
ected tewzrdz spccìhc eb¡cct erphcnemcnen, knew|cdgcebtzì ncd
b
y a
speci fed mcthed erzcccptcd scìcntìhc prìncìp|cs. Irenìcz||y, czch
are correc
t
, bot thcy mìss z kcy zspcct eIwhzt mzkcs scìcncc, scìcncc.
Thi s
b
oo
k zrgocs thztwhì|cscìcncc ìs knowldg
e, z vcqspccìz| kìnd eI
t
e
c
hnic
a
l
knew|cdgc, ìtìs merc. Itìsz|sezbeotmeaninghow scìcntìhc
f
n
di
ngs
a
nd thcerìcsbccemcpcrsenz||ysìgnìhczntìnthctcrmsìnwhìch
w
e
thi
nk eIeorsc|vcs zs pzrt eIthc secìz| er nztorz| unìvcrscs. Wì|c
o
bvio
usly
i mpertznt, thztzspcct eIthcscìcntìhccndczver rcccìvcs |ìtt|c
atte
nti on
. In zczdcmìcdìscussìens, soch censìdcrztìenshzvcIz||cn eut
o
f
fa
s
hio
n
. 1hcdìctìenzrìcs emìt thc mìssìngc|cmcnt, Iecosìngen thc
c
h
a
racter
eI
knew|cdgc ìnz nzrrew scnsc
, znd thìskcyhumznìstìcc|c-
m

n
t
0
pìcz||y
ìscìthcrIergettcn erncvcrzpprccìztcdbyscìcntìsts goz
sc•
enti sts,
wheIecosenthcìrtcchnìcz|porsoìts.Indccd,ìnmycxpcrìcncc

ª
|
r
t
he
rzrc ìnvcstìgztercvcr cntcrtzìns z censcìeos theoght zbeotthc
m
o
r
e-
ne
ss"
eIhcrrcsczrch-thc|zrgcrrczsensshcpursocshcrtzsks.bot
22
SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FORMENING
z dccpcttczson undct| ìcs rhcscgtcgzrìon oIscìcncc Itomwìdctm
cr¡·
physìcz| consìdctzrìons.
Scìcncc,zr|czsrsìnccrhcczr|ynìncrccnrhccnruq,dcvc|opdìncog
·
pcrìrìonwìrh znorhct ìdczoIwhzr scìcncc zccemp|ìshcd, otzr |mrrtìcq
rezchìcc. Lr uscz||rhcmovìsìonsAncent zndMotr. 1hce|dctvct
·
sìen srì||tcsìdcwìrh us,bur ìndìsguìscd Ietms.Arrìmcdutìngrhcp¿¡
mohundtcdyczts, ìrhætcztcdìrshczd,|ookcdzbour,zndrhcnsu||co
|y
tcrtczrcdrorhc dusty bookshc|vcs, whctc hìsrotìzns znd phì|esoph
cts
semcrìmcwzndct.lrsshyncsson|ytcdccrsrhcsotqsrzrceIìrs|esrsrzn
J
·
ìng. 1hcAncìcnr norìon hzs bccn ìn tcrtczr sìncc rhc Kcnzìsszncc, zo
q
semc wou|d ztgucrhzr "Ancìcnr Scìcncc" dìsrotrs nor en|y whzr ìn rhe
ptcscnrwcundcnrzndscìcnccrobczndredo,burz|sochzngcsrhcp|
¡
y
·
ìng hc|doIwhzr rhc bzby|onìzns, Gtcck, Komzns, Lhìncsc, zndAt
¡þ
s
wctcdoìngìnrhcìtown ìnvcsrìgrìonsoInzrutc. Onrhìsvìc,scìcncc3
wc know ìr cmctgcd on|y ìn rhc modctn ctz, znd motc, "modctn" m
¡
¡
wc||bcsynonymouswìrh"scìcncc. "
íetrhczncìcnrs¬zndArìsror|cìsrhckcyhgutcìnrhzrhìsroq¬sc|-
cnccwzszmcznsroc|zssìqrhcnzrutz|wot|dìnrctmsoI"nzrutz|kìnds.`
Lvcqrhìngposscsscd zn csscncc,rhzrwhìch mzdcìrzn ìndìvìduz|. 1h|s
sccms z tczsonzb|cp|zccresrztr. Actz|| , æ wcwzrchchì|dtcn dìscov
·
ctìngrhcìtwet|d, rhcy zsk, "lsrhìsz btown!"1hc pztcnr cettccrs
þ
¡
ptovìdìngznorhctc|zssoIrhì ng. "No,rhìsìszdog," zndrhcchì|dmust
zd¡usrhctnorìonoIbtown`scsscncc.L|zssìhmrìonp|zccshumznswìrhìr
rhcìtcnvìtonmcnr, Iotìr ìsrhchtsrsrcpìnnzvìgrìngrhcnzrutz|wot|J
burc|zssìhmrìonz|onchztd|ysumccsIotscìcncc. lrscncsærhcbcgìo-
nìng,buron|yrhcetìgìnIotorhct, motczmbìrìouspursuìrs.
Wc musrzssutcd|yctcdìrrhczncìcnrs Iotdìscevctìngccnzìn scìco·
rìhc ptì ncìp|cs, rhoscwc wou|d now cz|| sìmp|c mcchznìcs. Hewcvcr.
rhc vztìous rhcotìcs cxp|zì nìng rhosc phcnomcnz, Item eut modct
r
poìnroIvìcw, hì|cd mìsctzb|y.1hìngsposscsscdcsscnccszndrhcnzr
urr
eIrhì ngs-bì tds, mcrcots, rìdcs-wzs ro Io||ew rhcìt rtuc chztzcr
cr
Fhysìcz|IotccswctcìmbucdwìrhsomcvctsìonoIvìrz|ìsm,rhcwot|dw
ª
·
ìnrcgtzrcd by z |ìIc Iotcc, zndrhzr |ìIc Iotcc cxp|zìncd everthin
g
. W
ª
!
humzns cxpctìcnccd sub¡ccrìvc|yrhcn wzs pto¡ccrcd onre nzrutc, zo
J
rhzr wzs cxp|znzrìon cnough. Gìvcn cctrzìn ptcmìscs pu||cd eur It

humzn cxpctìcncc, rhczncìcnrsctczrcd zwot|detdct. Lxpctìmcnrzrì

dìd norcxìsr,cctrzìn|ynorzs zrcsroIzptcdìcrìvcmodc|etrhceq.A0
J
hcrswctcdcrctmìncdbyìndìvìduz|obscnzrìon,whìch Ietrhcmosrp
zr
'
WHT Is SciENCE? 1
3
r
e
q
u
i red
no test of veracity by a committee of peers. Authority ruled, not
i
n
th
e trib
unal of empirical knowledge, but rather in the abbeys of reli­
giou
s
opinion and dogma.
Ec
clesiastical authorit reigned in the premodern era. The Church
d
et
erD
ined theolog, a philosophical doctrine about the divine, and that
bo
dy of kno
wledge was derived from both reelation and scholastic argu­
m
e
nt
.
H
ere
we fnd the frst clue about our initial question. To the extent
scie
nce
was
science during the Reign of Religion, it sered a metaphysi­
cal
purpose: examining God's grandeur revealed in nature. What is the
natu
re of the universe in which humans mysteriously fnd themselves?
How m
ight life afer death be understood, given what we know about
ea
r
thl
y livi ng? Where is humankind placed in the hierarchy of nature?
And based on this last query, again extrapolating from human experi­
ence, those who practiced early science were to fnally ask what God's
l aws are-laws that not only applied in the moral domain, but also those
governi ng the natural order.
For science and religion to align themselves in balance ultimately
de
p
ends on recognizing the legitimate rationality of each and the cre­
a
t
ive exercise of fnding mutual accommodations. That challenge has
not
alw
a
ys been achieved despite seemingly endless attempts to maintain
s
ta
b
l
e relations (Marcum 2003, 2005a). We will consider a case example
in det
a
il below, but sufce it to note here that the various celebrated
breakdowns of mutual tolerance testif to the fragili ty of equilibrium.
I ndeed, today, while many still seek to accommodate the claims of reli­
gious and scientifc worldviews, it appears that science domi nates such
di s
cussi o
ns and religion has been put in the position of fnding its own
p
l
ace i n relation to the reality science has presented. Following the his­
t
o
r
i c
al development of science's material and theoretical successes, the
s
ci
enti
f
c enterprise has achieved independence.
O
nce
the question of universal law emerged, science began its course
tow
ards i
t
s
modern identity, one based on a new kind of empirical argu­

e
nt (O
lson
1991). If our contemporar society accepts an authority, it

s
the a
ut
hority of scientifc truth. That authority rests on the stature of
e
m
.
p
i
r
ic
a
l facts, and facts have ver particular standing i n the scientifc
l
e
'"
co
n
.
M
uch of what I will be discussing concerns the character of fcts,
a

d
h
ow
the concept of"fctual" is hardly simple (Poovey 1998), nor for
t
a
t
ma
tter,
is the orthodoxy of "scientifc method" (Gower 1997) , the
v
e
r
h
ist
or of which goes hand-in-hand with the vicissitudes of defning
2
4
Sci ENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING
facts. Whether in the laborator, where facts are discovered and made,
o
r
in the social world, where facts are used in policy debates, we will see t
h
a
t
their standing is persistently contested. Whether a fact is a fact alw
a
y
s
remains an open question, and how to interpret them, either a sup
p
or
t
­
ing or refting a theor, or clai ming valid j udgments about the w
o
r
l
d,
remai ns i n the arena of disputation.
This circumspect view of facts has arisen only recently. During
t
he
nineteenth centur, facts (determined by proscribed objective metho
d
s
)
claimed their standing by denying subjective bias in obseration or repon
of scientifc i nquir. In reaction against the authority of personal co
nf
es
­
sional , the human obserer was to recede i nto a "subject-less" recor
de
r
(Fox Keller 1 994) . To the extent the investigator gleaned facts from
her obserations, she did so as a machine among other machines. Her
instruments were, to be sure, extensions of her own perceptions, but
she recorded those obserations solely on the basis of some mechanic
l
measurement, a direct transmittal of nature's meaure to a fct-recording
device. That machine, a coupled obserer-i nstrument, becme the para­
gon of scientifc virtue: no subjective bias could be introduced. Ad facts.
the products of that process, became sacrosanct. This conception of sci­
entifc study, its rise and fall, flls my stor, but before disabusing belief i n
what has been clled the Legend (Kircher 1 993), let us briefy review the
hard-won strugle over diferent kinds of knowledge that ha played out
historically in the larger social context.
Science always has had a poli tical agenda, political in the sense of
claiming its legitimacy in the pursuit of its own infuence and receipt of
social and economic resources. When Francis Bacon promoted empi ri·
cal research and obtai ned the Crown's fnancial backing i n the sixteen
t
h
century, he did so on the basis of the promise of material gai n-co
·
nomic and militar most directly. However, a deeper and more profound
political issue was at stake: epistemological authority. Knowledge based
on empi ricism and its efective application for material gai n efectivel
y
chalenged the power of the Church. While science abdicted any forma
l
commitments to defne religious belief or the existential status of human
bei ngs, nevertheless, with the re-al ignments generated by ne con
cep
·
tions of the natural world and the standing of humans in that univers
e.
older ecclesiastical teachings were directly confronted and the Chur
c
h
wekened. The equipoise of radically diferent epistemologies could
n
o
t
be maintained and the political consequences, in the widest of all possi
b
l
e
meani ngs, cannot be exaggerated.
WHAT Is SciENCE? 1
5
Si n
ce
the Renaissance, scientifc i nterpretation has challenged rel i -
ious
auth
ority. And i n that struggle, science has found itself, willy nilly,
�l ig
n
ed w
ith
humanists and then secularists, who were able to chalenge
rel ig
io
us
dog
ma with scientifc evidence (e.g. , the age of the eanh, evolu­
t
ion
of species, etc. ). Secularists considered that political struggle, until
t
he
Bush
admi nistration, essentially completed. The fundamentalists
_
pp
a
r
ently
had been vanquished. Afer all, by the mid-nineteenth cen­
t
ur. G
od's fneral was well underay and by fn de siecle, secularism
had cl
aimed its laurels. But the battles hardly ended then, and our own
er
a has witnessed the strugle in diferent guises. Lt us explore a recent
case
study, which I trust will illustrate the major issues still i n play.
Rn in Dipute
D
u
ri ng the week before Christmas 2005, Judge John L.Jones III, sitting in
t
he Federa Middle District of Pennsylvania, ruled agnst teaching a ne
form of creationism in the public high school. The ce arose from a suit
broUght by parents against the Dover school board, which had instructed
teachers in 2004 to red a shon statement about the inconclusive status of
nc
o
-Darinian evolution theor and suget that intelligent design might
be entenained as an alternative explanation. Afer a long tria that delved
i
nt
o the nature of scientifc theor and the questions of what constituted
scientifc knowledge, the j udge ruled intelligent design wa a ploy to bring
rel igion
into the classroom and accused cenain board members of duplic­
i
t. )
udge Jones only confrmed what the vote
r
had al ready accomplished
b
y
p
Ushing the errant board members back to church.
T
he courtroom drama riveted the country, some comparing i t to
t
h
e S
copes circus of 1 925, when Clarence Darrow confronted William
Je
nni ngs B
ran i n the fmous Tennessee "monkey trial . " The 1 960 movie
/-
/·-i:
the Wind, so well enacted by Spencer Tracy and Fredric March,
c�
ptu
r
ed my own imagi nation as a youngster, and then, as now, I was fs­
ct n
at
ed w
ith the arguments about God's presence or absence in nature. I
c
a
n w
ell
un
derstand how religionists regard nature with awe, and to fnd
c
o
he
r
e
nce
and, perhaps more imponantly, meaning in the cosmos, they

an n
ot
abide placing their god outside his handiwork. If God is present
t
n
th
ei
r daily lives, why should he be omitted from designing the greatest
°
'
cr
e
ations, human intell igence? Afer all, the Bible describes how Adam
was r
a
de
i n
the image of God. Accordingly, God's intelligence, like our
°
¨
ª
·r
u
st
have some engi neeri ng capability dwarfng even our wildest
2
6 SciENCE AD THE QuEST FOR MENING
conceptions. True believers maintain that onhodox scientists are bli
n
d
to a deeper Rason becuse they have yet to see the Creator's fnger
s
at
work. So what looked to modern-day Darinians a only a contin
ge
nt
,
blind evolutionar process, is in fact only understandable as an
act
o|
deliberate deign.
The Dover C took on a special luster during the summer of 2005,
when Cardinal Schonborn wrote a controverial op-ed piec in the Ne
York Time. He claimed that he was protecting "rationality" agnst
an
idelogical science:
Thc CatheIìcChurch, whìIc Icavìng te scìcncc many dctaìIs abeut thc
hìsteq eIIìIcenm, pmIaìmsthat bymcIìghteImnmchuman
ìntc|IcctL rædìIyanddmrIydìsornpurpscanddæìgnìnmcnt
wer|d, ìncIudìngmcwerIdeIIìvìngthìng.
Lve|utìen ìn thcscnsceIcemmen anccstq mìght bc truc, but cveIu-
tìen ìnnæ-Damìnìan scnscan unguìdcd, unpIanncd pÎ eImn-
demvæìatìenandnatumIscIotìen-ìsnet.AnysytcmeItheughtthat
dcnìæerm k teep|aìnawymcevcmhcImìngoìdcnoIerdæì@ ìn
bìeIe@ìsìdæIe@,netscìcncc ø • ø ø NewatmcbnnìngeImc2l stccn-
tuq, NwìthscìcntìhccIaìmsIìknæ-Damìnìsmand mcmuItìvcm
hypethcsìs ìncesme|e@ìnvcntcd teaveìd mccvcmhcImìngcvìdcncc
Ierpurpescanddcsìgn Ieund ìn medcrn scìcncc, thcCatheIìcChurch
wìIIagndchndhumanrmnbypmIaìmìngthatmcìmmìncntdæìgn
cvìdcnt ìn naturc ìs rmI. Scìcntìhc thærìcs that tqteepIaìnaway mc
appcceIdæìgnÜ mcræuIteI"cmoandncoìty"Ü netscìcn-
tìhcatal, butÜ |ehn FauI putìt,anabdìmtìeneIhM ìntcIIìgncc.
guIy
7
. 2005)
The slippage is evident: Schonborn propels his metaphysic reaon, th
a
t
which suppons God's cosmologic purpose, into the epistemologicl
domain, where the prepondernt scientifc interpretation M no design
(and, incidentally, make no comment about God's preence or absence).
In other words, he confate theologica reon with scientifc reon an
d
trespasses the boundaries as if there were no diference. (Schonborn
's
position is, of course, disputed within the Church, and other option
s
obviously est, but his orthoox fme my dis ion.)
Schonborn chose to ignore the leson Immanuel Knt taught m
or
e
t 200 ye �how ron must make wy for fth. In the Cr
tttt
ofPurt Raon (1787/1998), Knt advised how to circumscrib objecti
ve
knowle and leve blief to ride beond scienc's horizn. His frmu·
lation provided a model by which scienc and religon might ct MP¹"
WHAT Is Sci ENCE? 2
7
i
n
thcirrcspcctìvcdemzìus,byz|cnìugthcuztura|phì|esephcr(uewcz||cd
a
sc
icotist)uetteprebcìutozræstewhìchscìcntìhcmcthedhzduerædy
acccss.
Hcp
reIeuud|yuudcrsteedthztscìcuccweu|dnetzskIer,znd thus
wo
u|d
uet
ehcr,zbzsìsIerrc|ìgìeusbc|ìc|eucwzyerznethcr.Inzscnsc,
t
h
c
qucstìeu
eIGedbcmmc meet. 5cìcucccrcctcdz ncutm|pìcturcthzt
t
i|ts
oo
cwzy
wìthGed,zndzuethcrwìtheuthìm,butwhìchwzythcces-
m
os|cz
usìs
dcpcndcntenìndìvìduz|cheìcczndbc|ìcI
Ie||e
wìug
Kzut, scìcncc mzyz||ewz dìvìnc prcscncc, but en|y enc
co
o
sistcut
wìth thcbcstscìcntìhcìntcrprctztìens. mcra|| , bcìngzscì-
eatis t
hzrd|y
prcc|udcs rc|ìgìeus cemmìtmcnts. 1hc ìssuccenccrns thc
st
ao
diug
eIbc|ìc| zs vzrìeus IermseIknow/dg� mustbcdìhcrcntìztcd
f
r
om
rc|igìeusconvic
ton. butKant`sp|ura|ìstìceptìenthrcztcncdthesc
whoceu|d uetc|zìm thcszmc kìndseIccnzìntyscìcncccUìbìtcd, enc
|
hatcmp|eycdzdìhcrcntkìndeIrztìenz|ìtyzndzdìhcrcntbæìsIerjudg-
men
t
. OIceursc,scìcucc`swer|dvìcwìsnet ncccsszrì|yìncempztìb|cwìth
a
di vi ocprcscucc, but pretcctìngIrcc ìnguìqzndepcn ìntcrprctztìen
r
emains z chz||cugc. 1hccurrcntcenhìctevcrcve|utìen ìn pznìcu|zr,
m
a
y hcchzncdzszscteIcenccntrìccìrc|cs.dìsputcdc|zìmseIbìe|e@,
Ji HctiogvicwseIscìcnccznd ìts re|c ìneursecìcty, zgumcntsevcrthc
l i
m
i
ts
oIthcstztc, znd, mestgcncrz||y, thcstztuseIsccu|zrìsmznd thc
La|ightcumcutprejcct.
Aod hcrcwc cemc bcc te bccwìth thcsccu|zr-rc|ìgìeus tcnsìen ìn
i t
s stat
kcsttcrms.5chënbern`smctzphysìcdcmzndsdìvìncìntcncntìen,
an
d hcweu|dcmp|eyrczsen tesuppenhìsbc|ìcI Kzthcrthznprevìdc
Jiv
iocprcscucczndtc|ce|e@wìth ìtsewn ratìenz|ìty, hc ìnsìsts enpre-
j e
c
ti
ng hisHìthìntethcnzturz|wer|d. Inshen,bcmuschìsrcæencdthc-
o
l
o
g
appzrcut|ymn netzccemmedztc nce-Ozmìnìzn b|ìndcve|utìen,
\ch
öoh
oru must rcjcct demìnzntscìcntìhcepìnìen, nzmc|ythccve|u-
t
i
ona
r
hu
dìugs zrìsìng hem z nentc|ce|egìcz|, mztcrìz|ìstìc thceqthzt
`P²
ci h
ca||yrcstsenzdcnìz|eIdcsìgn,znd,censcgucnt|y,zdìsp|zccmcnt
o
f
a
0
astcr
dìvì nìty. Indccd, centcmperzqcve|utìenzqthceqceu|d
h
e i
otcr
prct
cd zs rcjcctìngmzjerzsscnìenseILhrìstìzn thce|e@,znd
mu
c
h c|sc, Ierczch Ierm eImedcrnbìe|e@-Irem me|ccu|zrbìe|e@
t
o
:o
ci
obie|e@, hem thc hczn`s bcztìng te thcbrzìn`smnctìens-rcts
o
n
t
h
e 0ti|ityeIchzncccvcnts. íerthescwheìnsìstenGed`s ìmmcdìztc
p
r
es
e
nce,
rczsen dìctztcs ethcmìsc. Kczsen thcn bccemcs thc tee| thzt
;om
e th
c
e|
egìzus usczs z kìndeIunìvcrsz| seIvcnt Ierdìsse|vìngpreb-
c�s ^
i th
eutzcknew|cdgìng thzt ìtìs net r�aon thzt ìs ìn dìsputc, but
t
+
|
¨'
th
c
mctzphysìcìnwhìchrczsenmnctìens.
SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
The question of whether intelligent design might take its place in th
e
scientifc menu does not strike me a particularly interesting at this poi
nt.
'
We have witnessed endless and convincing rebuttal, but what intrig
ue
s
me, and the set of questions upon which I will fcus, concerns the ch
ar­
acter of reon and the charcteriztion of scientifc reon in particular.
The key to the Cardinal's position concerns a defnition of rtionalit,
since he claims a higher rtionality than the neo-Darinist. But rea
on
is not at issue inamuch a the logic by which he argues is perfectly con­
sistent within his own sytem of thought. Instead, the trajector of the
quarrel takes the disputnts into diverging paths becuse of the presup­
positions each holds. Each declares his basic aioms and then follo
ws
the logic of reason to some conclusion. Schonborn begins with God's
presence and purpose (humans created in a divine image and living for
divine resurrection) and then sees God's deign imposing an omniscie
n
t
hand on evolution (to achieve holy ends) a consistent with another basic
premise, God's limitleswill. The counter position begins with blind eo­
lution, M no deign, and then remains agnostic about the Divine's role
in the evolution of life forms. Even if both side acknowledge the difer­
ence in their repective as umptions, the debate goe unreolved becue
reconciliation at this level is not baed on rational argument, but instead
on the btli4 underlying each party's initial asumptions.2
Both side of the debate claim a rational discoure, and inded, intel­
ligent people espouse intelligent deign, but given the presuppositions
o
f
ech system, the conclusions of the respective positions are irreconcilable.
The incompatibility stultifes argument becuse presuppositions are, 8
R.G. Collingood described them, the asumptions and guiding prece
pts
that are closed to fnher analyis or reision (Collingod 1940). They
are the bedrock of the conceptual apparatus the suppon. Stan with
dif­
ferent presuppositions, and logical progresion will bring the disputan
t
s
to ver diferent ends, as the intelligent design ce exemplifes. So t
h
e
public drama is not about science per se, but about the metaphysi
c
i
°
which science fnctions. The classic examples are the religious dispu
t
e
s
arising from Galileo' s astronomical fnding and Darin • s theor of c
or·
mon descent. In each instance, a religious orthodoxy disputed the
s
ci
·
ence. Galileo's ce has been settled, but Darin's still linger, not in
t
he
paniculars of evolutionar fnding but in the meaning of those fnd
ing

as the Cardinal has shown. Indeed, scientifc fcts are not at issu
e, but
rather their interpretation, so that we should recogniz the instrm
enta
l
·
WHT IsSciENCE? 1
9
i
@
o
|r
czse
n.5cìcnccmzybcuscd by znyenc, ìts tcchne|e@ zpp|ìcdIer
di
vcncs
ocìz| pursuìts, ìts knew|cdgc pcrhzps dcsìgncd Ier enc purpesc,
ap
p

cd
te
znethcr, ìts hndìngìntcrprctcd te suppen enc mctzphyìc,
ot
aoothcr.'Whcn thc Iessì| rccerd ìs p|zccd wìthìnz mndzmcntz|ìst
tca
dìng
eIthc bìb|c, z "mctzthceq" hzssupp|zntcd thcscìcntìhcenc.
Wc
wì||netsctt|cthcmzttcrbyµumcnt,mtìenæerethcmìsc.
How
cvcr, z dccpcr ìssuc|urks bcnczth thc mcrìtseIthcLzrdìnæ`s
pt
oo
ounccmcnt. I zgucthztscìcnohæ bccn unbìr|yìndìctcdwìththc
tcsp
oosìbì
|ìtyeIeustìnghummshemzshc|tcrcdnìchcwhcrcwcrcìdcd
aoiqoc ìn
nzturc zs prìvì|cgcd crczturcs ìn cemmunìmtìen wìth Ged.
Accordìog
te thccrìtìc,mctzphyìm|dìsjeìntcdnc ìs|zìdztthcIoteI
ao i mpcrìz|ìstìcscìcncc thzt neten|ydchncs nzturcznd humzn bcìng
ioaoaotì-spìrìtuz| |znguzgc, butz|sem|s ìnteguctìenethcrmedceI
g
oowìogthcwer|d,eursc|vc,zndthcßqend.butthczccusztìensrcprc-
scotapreIoundmìsundcntzndìng.5cìcnodmnet,mnnetcensìdcrrc|ì-
gioasc|zìms.5ìnccscìcnccmunezttcmpttezddrc er|ìstcnteGed,
thcqocstìoneIwhcthcrthcdìvìnccsuernetìssìmp|yehthcscìcntìhc
agcoda.Godrcìdcbqendscìcntìhcdìsceunc,whìchsìmp|ymmsthzt
cxistcocc ìs mystcrìeuscneugh te mzkc reem Ier beth knew|cdgcand
bc|ic| Inzscnsc,Gedìsbcìdcthcmzttcr.(1hìs"cemp|cmcntµ"vìw
of thc ozturceIthcscìcncclrc|ìgìen rc|ztìenshìp hæ bccn cxhzustìvc|y
dcsctìbcd,c.g. ,breekc1991; bæbeur1997; ícrngrcn2002.)
Wì|cscìcntìhcthceqìsncutm|rcgrdìngthcdìvìnc,undcrstzndìng
th
c m
ystcq thzt |ìcsztthc hczrteIthcscìcntìhcgucqerìgìnztcswìth
thc vcq
szmc rc|ìgìeus gucstìens thztcve|vcd ìnte phì|esephìcz| encs.
Watìs thcwer|d!Hewìsìtergìzcd!Whcrcdehumznshtìnte thzt
uoivetsc!
Wzt ìsdìstìnct|y humzn! 5cìcncc prcscntscegcnt "znswcrs"
io
itsdìst
ìnctìvcveìcc. Indccd,scìcnccmnnetæpcìts"ìntcntìen,"thzt
is, th-
abì
dìnghumn gucstìens thztdìrcct ìts ìnguìq. 1hc "vìwhem
nowh
ere" (N
zgc|1986) neten|yrcmzìnszn ìmpessìb|cæpìmtìenwhcn
·
.�-
a:-
ìs
cenccìvcdìnthcschumzntcrms,thcprcumptìenæserzdìcz||y
¤i s
co
occìvcs scìcncc`sewn cemmìtmcnts. Whì|cthc tcrms eIcngzgc-
¤c
ot
had bccn rzdìm||y ætcrcd bythc nìnctccnth ccntuq, thcerìgìnz|
¤cta
ph
ysìcz|
ìnguìqrcmzìnscmbcddcd ìn thcscìcntìhccntcrprìsczs
a
s
c
co
o
d
er
dcrzctìvìty. Firt ortr rcIcrs te thc dìrcct ì ndustqeIscì-
e

c�,
ìts
cp
ìstcme|egìm| prejcctdchncdnzrrew|y. Stcond ordr rcIcrs te
� �' "
tc
tp
rc
tztìenszndzpp|ìmtìenseIscìcntìhchndìngs znd thcerìcs.
c

c
o
tists ìn
thcìr tcchnìmwerkdcz|wìth hnterdcr
busìncss, z|| eIus
3
0 SciENCE AD THE QuEST FOR MEANING
pendcrsccenderdcrìssucs. 5ccenderdcrznswcrs hzvcbccnzsscncd b
y
rc|ìgìenìstszndsccu|zrìstsIer thcìrewn rcspcctìvcpurpescs,zndìn
th
ci r
cnsuìngdcbztcs, thcy hzvc uscd scìcntìhc thcerìcstesuppen rzdì
cz||
y
dìhcrcntmctzphysìcz| pesìtìens. 1hcscìcncc (zs Izcts) ìs net thc ìssµ
c
.
1hc int
t
rttton ìs. In thìs scnsc, scìcncc m|h||sm ìnstmmcntæ
moz
-
tìen mbcyendìts mztcrìz| zpp|ìmtìens.
1husscìcncc,Iremzncn|ìghtcncdrc|ìgìeuspeìnteI vìw,ìsmìns
trµ
-
mcnt te pcrccìvc thc dìvìnc. 1hc ìngcnuìty eIscìcntìhc ì nvcstìgtì
eo
s
cxpescsthcwendreuswerkìngeIGed`shznd.1hcmercwcundcntzoq
thccìnvcstìgtìens,thcmercwcmìghtzpprccìztcthcsub|ìmccehcrcog
zndìntrìmqeIthcnztumwer|dznd ìu unbthemzb|c ræchceIsp
z
g
zndtìmc.1hztznìcu|ztìen,Ierthcrc|ìgìeus|yìnc|ìncd,rcvmsGed.
1h
c
rc|ìgìeusìntcgrztìenìsthusc|esc|y|ìnkcdtethczcsthctìc,encthztdrzws
IremnetìenseIthcsub|ìmc. 4
5eìnstczd eIthc ncgztìvc prejcct eIrcjcctìngmndzmcntæìstzrgu-
mcnts, scìcncc mzy bc cmp|eycd ìn thc pesìtìvccndczvereItrzns|zt-
ìng ìts ewn pìcturc ìnte tcrms thztzppcæ te subjcctìvc nccds. Onthis
vìw,scìcnccneten|yprevìdcs thcbzsìs Iertcchne|egìmzdvznccs,bu
|
mswcrs te ìtsdccpctcemmìtmcntseIcxp|erìngnzturcæzrcspensct
¤
eurmctzphysìcæwendcr. Humznìsm|czvcsthccherceIdchnìngsìgnìh-
mnccmdmænìngwìthìn zhumznmnstruct.1hztchz||cngc|ìcztth
r
bæceIthccenhìctbcmccnsccu|zrìsmzndrc|ìgìeus ìdce|e@. Inzscnsc,
Nìctuchc`s chz||cngc ("Ged ìs dczd|") rcmzìns zn zbìdìngunrcse|vcd
gucstìen. Lzn, er cvcn sheu|d, humznkìnddchncìts cesmes! ßcye
6
d
nztumìstìccxp|znztìen,æthcvz|ucthztgevcrnsecìctybctmybzscd
upen, er cvcn dcrìvcd Irem, humzn dc|ìbcrztìea! Lzn wc succcssm
||j
zsscrt eur ewn sìgnìhmncc! Lzn wc mcznìngm||ycxìst wìtheutdìvi6r
rcvc|ztìenznd|ìvcìnzwer|dnzvìgtcdzndcrcztcdbyhumznìntcntìo6
s
znd wì||! 1hcsc gucstìens hzvc rcstcd zt thc hczn eIthcsccu|zrcn
tcr
·
prìsc threugheut medcrnìty. Indccd, thcy|zgc|ydchncthchumzn
ìst
ic
prejcct,zndwhcn|ìbcra|secìctyìscenIrentcdbysuchcxprc ìenseI
di:·
mntcntæ ìn thcOevcrmsc,wczrcrcmìndcdthzt, Ierzwtprepe
nioº
eIAmcrìczns, thc wer|d scìcnccprcscnts mnnetprevìdc mcznìng
t
h
z
'
sztìshcthcìrcxìstcntìz|znd rc|ìgìeus nccds.
5cìcntìhchndìngbythcmsc|vcsehcrnemcznmgìnzhummcsco
sr

Intcrprctztìenerdcrsthescbctsìntezcenstructìenthzt, ìnthchnz|
zo
a
l
`
ysìs, ìsznzttcmptte p|zcc ebjcctìvc knew|cdgc zbeut thc nzturæ
w
or
l
J
wìthìnthcbrezdcrdìmcnsìenseIhumzncxpcrìcnozndsubjcctìvcn
cc
q
`
WHT Is SciENCE? 3
1
[
h
at
preccss rcquìrcs semc "Iramìng"~acsthctìc, spìrìtuz|, and merz|.
Th
c
mndamcntz|ìst|cgìtìmatc|yzspìrcsteìntcgratcascìcntìhcpìcturc
c
ve
|utìen~wìthdccp|yhc|drc|ìgìeuscemmìtmcnts. butthìsìshzrd|yz
p
rob|cm
unìquctethcm. Mznysccu|zrìsts(zndIrcc-thìnkìngrc|ìgìenìsts)
a|soscck
sczm|css cenncctìensbcmccnz mztcrìz|ìstìc unìvcrscgevcrncd
b)
|aws thzt hzvc ne pcrsenz| cnchzntmcntwìth thcvzrìeus dìmcnsìens
o
|sob
¡cc
tìvìty. 1hcyde sewìtheut ìnvekìngdìvìncìntcncntìen ìn thc
p
ar
tìc
u|arcve|utìeneIhumzns.A|eIthcscgreupsshzrcthcszmcpreb-
|c
m but rczch dìhcrcntse|utìens. Indccd, thczspìrztìen te undcrstznd
iodivìdu
z| ìdcntìtyznd "p|zcc" pcrsenswìthìn thcvzrìeus nzturz| znd
so
cia|
wer|ds thcy ìnhzbìt (psyche|egìcz||y, secìe|egìcz||y, spìrìtuz||y,
aodseen)sccmsz unìvcrm chzmctcrìstìceIhumzn |ìIc. Vìcwcd ìnthc
mostgcncrz|wzy, humzn rczsen zppzrcnt|yhzs z bæìcprepcrty(enc
dcmenstrztcd by myrìzd psyche|egìcz| zndcegnìtìvcstudìcs)eIscckng
iotcgratìeneIcxpcrìcncc,unìtyeIbc|ìc|zndcehcrcncceIundcntzndìng
(1hagard2000). Kzntdcscrìbcdthìsìntcgrztìvcmnctìenæ rczsenscck-
ing ìts"unìhmtìen"(Nìcmzn1994). írcuddìscevcrcdnumcremdcIcnsc
mcchanìsmstehe|dthcpsychctegcthcr.Legnìtìvcscìcntìstshzvcdcm-
onstr
a
te
d thczbì|ìty te scrccn eut erIergct dztzercxpcrìcncccenhìct-
ing wìthmercdemìnzntbc|ìcI(Heekzy2002; ízucennìcrznd1urncr
2002).Andmctzphysìcìznsjcz|eus|yguzrdthcìrprcsuppesìtìenstehe|d
t
heir wer|dtegcthcr.
Wcscckteundcrstzndhewvzrìeusræenschcctìvc|yknìtthcwer|d
t
ogether,
wìth scìcnccscnìngzs z pzrzgen eIz ccnzìn knd eIknew|-
edge
,
boten|yenceIscvcrz| ìnthccmp|eyeIthìs ìntcgmtìvc mnctìen.
To
a
ssen
thc|cgìtìmzqeIdìhcrcnt rztìenz|ìtìcs ìsnettezdvemtc rc|z-
t
i
vis
m
,
buttezcknew|cdgcthztthcrcìsnesìng|ccpìstcme|e@thztmzy
l
ay
exclusive c|zìm te z|| demzìnseIcxpcrìcncc. Lzch Ierm eIknew|-
e
dge
exp
lores znd thcn dchncs thcwer|d zccerdìngte ìtsewn mczns.
T
he cem
men mìstzkczdmìts ne|ìmìtseIz pznìcu|zrmedceIrczsen.
Rt
h
er
thzn scckz mctzthceq(ervcrsìeneIrczsen) tecncempzssczch
m
o
de
e|
kew|cdgc, rcspcctIerìntc||cctuz|zndsecìz|cxpcrìcncceIæch
p
ra
c
ti
ce
mustsustzìn thc rìghtm| c|zìms eIz|| byzpprccìztìngthztencc
w
e r
e
ac
h mctzphyìcz|stmtzthcrcìsnereltve mcrìtìnscìcntìhcvcrsm
o
t
h
e
r
k
i u
ds
eIrcæens, Iercxzmp|c, thztgevcrnìngrc|ìgìen. 5ethctzck
t
a
ke
n
h
ere
ìs
guìdcd byzsìghtìngeIrczsen, thcwìndszrccemìnghem
s
ta
r
b
o
a
r
d
;
wcrcguìrczstczdycempæstehe|d eurceursc.Ltusprecccd
a
.
c
ord
ìug|y

3
1 Sci ENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
A Mephyic Qud
Knew|cdgcehcrcdbyscìcntìhcìnvcstìgtìensrcsìdcsztscvcrz||cvcIs,
zn
d
z|theughthcmztcrìz|bcnchtstcstìqtethcsucoeIthcscìcntìhcwer|d-
vìcw, chzrzctcrìzìngthesc tcchnìcz| zpp|ìcztìenszrcenIy enc zspc
ct
o|
undcntzndìngscìcncc`spreduct.5ebcyendthcmztcrìz|gns,wcmìgh
t
wc|| zsk thc merc gcncrzI gucstìen. ìIthc rcz|ìqdcpìctcd byscìcntìhz
knew|cdgcmzyenIybcgræpcdìndìrcct|y,ìnethcrwer±,threughtcch-
nìczI mcznscxprcsscd ìn csetcrìc |zngzgc wìthstrzngc medcs eI|e
gìz
mdzn ebscurc hìsteq, thcn whztæ z nenspccìz|ìstknow OrIerthat
mzttcr,hewdecthccxpcnp|zcchcrtcchnìcz|s|ìcceIræìtyìntezcem-
prchcnsìvcwer|dvìw!1hcscìcntìstÑo mcszmcchz|IcngeIprecç
-
ìngzndìntcgrztìnghcrewnknew|cdg,zndguìckybcmmczIzypcnoo
whcnshcwndcrsehhcrbætcn pztheIstudy.Accerdìngtethìsgìtzr-
ìzn vìcw, czch eIuswztchcs thc rcz|ìty dcpìctcd byscìcntìhcdìsceursc
muchzswcmìghtcnjeyzmevìc. wcvìwzvcrsìeneIthcræ|,semcs@-
mcnteIthcnzturæwer|dpìcturcdwìth vzqìngdcgrcceIdctzì|.Wcd
q
net ncccsszrì|ycxpcrìcncc thzt rcz|ìty dìrccdy, but rzthcr undcntzndìt
threughsemcìntcrmcdìzqerdcrìvztìvc ìntcrprctztìen. Mzkìngknew|-
cdgc pcnenz|¬mænìngmI ersìgnìhæt¬rcmzìnsthcnm ìndìvìduz|'s
prcdìmmcnt.1hcìmp|ìmtìenseIstzndìngehst@c,æìtwcrc,hzvcdop
rcpcrcussìensæ humzns bccemcveycuneIzwer|d ìn whìch thcy|ìvc.
I nshen, hew te rccnchznt thc centcmpemwer|dvìw¬nzmcIyhew
te dcrìvc mcznìngznd te hndsìgnìhmncc ìn z wer|d dcveìd eIhumu
vz|ucprcscnuzpcrp|cxìnggucq.
Kemzntìc Iczrs znd dìsc|zìmcrs thzt such zn ì ntcgrztìvc mìssìo6
mìght bcdeemcd te bì|urc preIeund|yìnhucnccsWcstcrn censcìeos·
ncss. Mzq 5hc||cy`s Franktnsuin Iurks cvcryhcrc, z |eemìng hu|k
thrcztcnìngusz||. ízustsucstszpzctwìth thcdìzbe|ìcz|,zndwhcthcr
thcdcvì| |ìvcs wìthìneurmìdsterwìthìneurewn hczrts, thc dzn
gcr
ìs thc szmc. 5uspìcìen eIthc scìcntìhcmìssìen mzybctmccd hem thr
cìghtccnth-ccntuqìnbtuztìenwìth thc Neb|c5zvzgc (cxprcssìng|ost
ì nneccncc) te Nìctuchc`s cc|cbrztìen eIOìenysus (dcc|zrìngzn
zcs
·
thctìc|ìbcrztìenhemzrcstrìctcdmtìenzIìq) . `Lzchzttzckenthcìnsì
di
·
euschzrzctcreIscìcntìhcìndustqcxprc cszdccp-sætcd znd pew
cr
g|
scntìmcnteItcchne|egìczI pregrcss evcrpewcrìngzn csscntìz| hum
z
or
cempencnteIthc Wcstcrn psychc. On thìsvìcw, dcspìtc thc ebvì
o
Þ
s
hìtseIscìcntìhcIzber, zdzmnìngìndìctmcntstzn± mrdchumzn
ìz
ì
o[
ìndustrìz|cu|turcs(Mzn1979).
WHAT Is Scr ENCE?
33
Thc
pìttìugo|modcmscìcucc (coup|cd to a voracious tcchuo|ogy)
a
g
a
i
n
st thc pastora| (thc ìuuoccutaudgood) has crcatcd a broad cu|-
rur
al
couhìct, cmauatìug|rom a dccpchasm ìu ìutc||cctuz|vz|ucsznd
W
ltamc
hattng datìug at |cast |rom|acqucs Koussczu (Mzn 1964).
Ç
¤
osì
dcrthìsìudìctmcutbyLdmuudMìshzu.
Like
some ponderous multi-purpose robot that is powered by its own
insatiable curiosity, science lurks onward irresistibly, its myriad feelers
p
eel ing
away the fesh of nature, probing ever deeper beneath the sur­
face of things, forcing entr into ever sanctuar, moving a transmuted
humanity forard to the day when ever throb in the universe has ben
charted, ever manifestation of li fe dissected to the nth particle, and
no
thing more remains to be discovered-cept, perhaps, the road back.
( 1 967, l 44)
Th
i
s cpìst|ccauuotbcdìsmìsscdzsìdìosyncrztìc.1hcpewcrzndurgcncy
of the autìscìcucc |obby puuctuztcd thc mcntìcth ccntuq, znd thc cur-
rent chorus hzs mzny cxprcssìens, rzngìng Irem thc Iczrs rcgzrdìng
nuclear
p
owcr, tothcpotcntìz| untowzrd chcctseIgcnctìccngìnccrìng,
from thcdìsputcszbouthumzncvo|utìen, to thcstztusoIthc Ictus. In
t he ooudìhcrcutìztcd dìsmzywìth thc cxccsscs eItcchno|egy, scìcncc
and its uscs arcgcncrz||y not scpzrztcd. but cvcn whcn scìcncc znd ìts
app|ic+tiousarcdìstìnguìshcd,zpcrsìstcntcomp|zìntrcvo|vcszroundthc
¨dc-oatura|ìætìon"oInzturc.Accordìng|y, unìhcd nzturchzs bccn tern
asun
d
er by a rcductìonìstznd rzdìcz||yobjcctìhcd scìcncc thzt cznnot
p
ut thc|ragmcutcd pzrts bzck ì nto z cohcrcntwho|c. Morc, scìcncc`s
rcd

tiouo|uaturctoznobjcctoI study,hzsbccnìndìctcdwìthrzdìcz||y
al ter
i
ng humaukìnd`sìntìmztcrc|ztìonshìpwìththc nztum wor|d.
Hostì|ccommcntztorstooohcnhzvcIzì|cd todìhcrcntìztcthcpur-
p
orte
d
crì mcs oIscìcncc Irom thc socìz| uscs oItcchne|egy (Froctor
|
¹
7
I
I
¯hcchorts todìsccrnthccomp|cxpo|ìtìcz|zndcconomìcIorccs

ui �
i
n
g scìc
ucc, z|ongwìth thc morc chzrgcd tzsk oIzdj udìcztìngthc
"
d

¢t
mcuto|scìcntìhccz||ousncss,hzvcrcsu|tcdìnongoìngcontrovcr-
s� cs
th
a
t
arc
unzvoìdzb|y ìdco|ogìcz| ìn chzrzctcr. 5o whì|cwc mìght
s

m
p
l
y dìsrcgard Luddìtccrìtìqucs, z nzggìng ìnsìght |ìngcrs. Much oI
�o
der
n
i
t's
hìstoqìs scìcncc, zndthcunrcso|vcd stztus eIìts ebjcctì-
• ed, u
n
i
vcnaìZdwor|dvìcwvìs-à-vìsthcsubjcctìvìtyoIthcsìngu|zrcgo
r
e
m
·
a
t ns
a crìtìcz| mzttcr.
T
h
e
su

cct-objcct dìchetomy |ìngcrs wc|| bcyend thc zrtìhccs oI
r
e
s
e
a
r
c
h
a
ud
cxtcudstethcvcqcorcoIour
stzndìngìnnzturc. Inshort,
34
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
semc ìntcgrztcdmctzphyìcgevcrnìnghumznkìnd'sp|zccìn nzturc(¿
bccn dìsp|zccd Iermznybyz mctzphysìc eIz|ìcnztìen. Nccd|cute
sa
),
zdeptìngthìsz|ìcnztìvcpcrspcctìvc,|czdsteznìhì|ìstìcundcrstzndìng
o
¡
humzn`scxìstcntìz|stztus. Oncnccd netsubscrìbctethìs|ìnceIthe
ugþ
¡
testì|| zcknew|cdgc thzt thcscìcntìhcwer|dvìcwhzs prcscntcd modc
t-
nìty wìth z mzjerchz||cngceIdchnìngz mctzphysìcs thztsucccss
m||y
ìntgmtcs ebjcctìvc pìcturc eInzturcwìth thcpcrsenz|wer|d ìn w
hìc
g
humzns|ìvczssecìz|zndpsyche|egìcz|bcìng.
Mzrtìn Hcìdccr`s prevecztìvccemmcnt, "scìcncc ìs thc thce
qo|
thc rcz|" ( l º54bl l º77, l 57) , peìnts us ìn thcdìrcctìenwc wì|| Ie||ow
te tczsc zpzrt thcsc mzttcrs. Hc mìght hzvc ehcrcd z merc cxpznsìv
r
dchnìtìen, such zs "scìcnccìsa thmqeIræ|ìty" er"scìcnccìsthcquest
Ierrcz|ìty"ersemcthìngz||ewìngIerethcrwer|dvìws. Hc dìdnetIot@
vcqspccìhcrcæen. hcwzntcdteje|t hìs rczdcrtezcknew|cdgcthztsci-
cncc hzsbccemc thcdemìnzntwzyeIundcn�dìngræ|ìq, znd, mot
r
tethcpeìnt, ethcrwzy eIknewìng hzvc |est thcìr stzndìng. Hcìdc@cr
purpescm||yzssìgncd thc scìcntìhcwer|dvìcwz hrm he|d en whzt coo-
stìtutcsrcz|ìty. Hcwæzce Ic||ew,zndhcnedeubtteeksemcdc|ìgh
|
ìn hìs zttcmptte cntrzp thcunwzqwìth hìs ìreny. Merc, hcwntcdte
sædz|ìuthescwheveuchcd Ierscìcncc`szuthcntìcìtybydcc|zrìngth
+|
pìcturc beth ìncemp|ctc znd dìstertìng. 1hzt ìsz cemp|cx (znd not
¤
-
rìeus) steq, butthc |zcenìcdìsmìssz| (ycs, scìcnccgìvcs us thc "rca| , �
butthzt pìcturc ìsnetrcz||y rtal erccntru|yìntcrcstìng peìnts tethc
dì|cmmzthztIrzmcsmyewncensìdcrztìen.
5eHcìd@rsct thctcrmseIcngmcnt. ìIscìcnccìsthcsæch
f
or
thc rcz|, whzt decs rtal mczn znd tewhzt dcgrcc thztscìcntìhc rcæip
pmnuzcemprchcnsìvcwer|dvìw!Orputznethcrwzy, ìIscìcnccìs
t
hc
thmqeIthcræ|,thcnwhztìsìtthztrcmzìnsIerethcrwzyeIknewìugo
r
wer|d-mzkìng!Whztìsìnc|udcd, znd, mercìmpmndy,whztìs|cho
at'
Adcensìdcrìngthztwhìchìsemìttcd,whztìsthccesteIìu|eu!A br
oa
q
·
cncd pesìtìen rcgzrdsscìcncc zs ru|ìngerdchnìngen|y enc demzìu
of
hU knew|cdgzndethcrwzyeIknewìngzrczppreprìztc|yzpp|ì
g
to
±rnìngdìhcrcntæpctseIpcnenz|ersubjcctìvccprìcno. Ino|Þ²'
werds, ebjcctìvìtydecs netse|c|ycemmznd eur pìcturceIræ|ìty,
zo
q

ìndæ, ìtmnen|ymntrìbutcoruìncempencnutethcmmp|cm
o
~
|
·
eIeurcpcrìcnccdwer|d. IIencæ umcthìscrìtìm|attìtudc,thcnth
c
wa�
eImnoìvìngwhztscìcnodeczndcndæven tede mzymdìm||y

§
·'
Iremzcceunts eIthescwhercmzìn sztìshcdwìththcpìcturceIth
t
ffo•
WHT IsSciENCE?
3
5
s
c
ie
n
ce bcstows. In shon, Hcìd@ crskcptìcz||yæks,whzt ìsthcstztusoI
sa
bj
cctìvccxpcrìcnccìnzwor|ddomìnztcdbyscìcntìhcrcz|ìtìc!
Frìorto thc nìnctccnth ccntuq, such zdìscussìen zbout thc nzturc
¤
|
scicn
cczszn ìntc||cctuz|cndczvorzmongscvcrz|cempctìngmodcseI
g
n
o
wìngdìdnotcxìst,zt|czstnotzszc|czrz|tcrnztìvctepesìtìvìsm.1hc
rise
o|p
osìtìvìsm net on|yrcdchncd thcchzrzctcreIræen zndknew|-
edge.
ìt
sìmu|tzncous|yrcdchncd rcz|ìty ìn ìts ewn tcrms,Apprezchcs
whi ch mìght bc poscd ìn zcsthctìc er spìrìtuz| tcrms, net en|ywcrc
i rreconcì|zb|c wìth z posìtìvìst phì|osophy, but weu|d hzvc te zccem-
m
o
datc thcmsc|vcs te thìs ncw phì|osophyeIscìcncc. 1hcwer|ds Ier
whichscìcnccdìd notzcceuntwcrc netcengucrcdse muchzsbypzsscd.
Vi|cscìcncc`scpìstcmo|egìcz| hcgcmeny zhcctcd cthìc, rc|ìgìon, znd
¤
|c
¤
orsc, thc humzn scìcnccs, whìch ìn turn dccp|y ìnhucnccd socìz|

| icies oIcvcq knd, thc mestpreIeund ìnhucnccwzsenmctzphys-
ics. Notc,whcn Hcìdccrebscncd, "scìcnccìsz thceqeIthcrcz|, "hc
qu
a| ihedthccpìstcme|ogìm|stzndìngeIscìcnccbycxpzndìngthcdchnì-
tio
n
o|scìcncczsz|secncempzssìngm�tphsical cenccrns. Indccd, thc
lattctzrcprìmzq.Kz|ìty,nzmc|y,zphì|esephìcz|undcrstzndìngeIrcz|-
.ç,comprìscs thc m�tìcreImctzphysìc. Whcn Hcìdccr mzkcswhzt
a
p
pczrs to mctobcz tmnspzrcnt|yebvìeusebscnztìen,hcìmmcdìztc|y
shi fs thcp|zyìnghc|dIerphì|esephìcz| dìscussìons.
Hcìdcggcr dìstìnguìshcdwhztscìcnccdecs (znd thcpreductseIìts
doi ng) |rom thc prìmzq phì|esephìm| prejcct te whìch ìtìscommìt-
|r
q
~
prcscntìngz thceqeIrcz|ìty. I ndccd, scìcntìhc thcorìcs zrc thc
|o
uo
q
ztion Iorordcrìngphcnemcnzznd thusscncæ thcphì|esephìcz|
'
c+H
o|di ogIor thccntìrc cntcrprìsc. (1hceqìsbcìngconstrucd |oesc|y
h
e
re. ) A
ccordìng|y, scìcntìhc ìnvcstìgztìens, thc mctheds znd bctuz|
pm
q
octs,zrcnetthcse|ccndseIthcvcnturc.
bc
yond zn cpìstcmo|egìcz| cntcrprìsc, z merc mndzmcntz| pursuìt
»

.-a::
rcsczrch, nzmc|y, thcdcvc|epmcnteIthcerìcsznddìscovcqeI
l aws
:h
atzccountIerzdìstìnctìvcwzyeIpenrzyìngrcz|ìty. Inshon,scì-
e
nc
e
ptodoccscpìstcme|egìcz|zs wc||æ mctzphysìcz| stztcmcntszbeut
�a
t
ure.
W
ìth
thzt undcrstzndìng, thc prìmerdìz| erìgìns eIscìcntìhc
• �q
ui
r
,
i nsp
ìrcdbythcwendcreInzturc,zrczpprccìztcdæz"thceqeI
t
.
r r
e
a
"
thzt mzkcsthìszncìcntmctzphyìcz|cz||ìngbzsìczndramnm-
¯¯
:
oco
ntc
mporµscìcncc.
[
t
o
m
thìs mctzphysìcz| vzntzgc, scìcncc cncempzsscs zn cn|zrgcd
a
g
e
nd
a
, oucìnwhìchthcscìcntìstneten|ymktemætcrnzturc,butz|se
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
tezddrcssthcerìgìnz|qucrìcseIthcær|ìcstphì|esephcrs.whztrcz|ìt
y
ìs,
whewczrc,whcrcwczrc,znd mzybc,j ustmzybc, hewwczrc. Mevìo
§
pzst thc tcchne|egìcz| zchìcvcmcnts thztwc dcrìvc Iremscìcntìhcpro
g-
rcss, thcscdccp|yhumzncenccrns|cgìtìmztcscìcnccìnzcentcxtbcy
ooq
mztcrìz| nccds, enc thzt wc mìght dub spìrìtuz| , zcsthctìc, cmetìe
na
| ,
cxìstcntìz|,erjustp|zìnhumznc. LzcheIthcscqucstìenszrìscIrem

e
cenundrumeIsc|I-censcìeusncss,zcenscìeusncseIeursc|vcsìnmz|ìc
o
znd strzngcwer|d. Wìth sc|I-zwzrcncss, pcep|ceIz|| tìmchzvczskcq
thcscszmcbzsìcqucstìens,zndscìcncc,IerbcttcrzndIerwersc,hzspro-
vìdcdìtsewnunìqucznswcn.
Wc mzy |ump thcsc mzttcrstegcthcrzs cntìrc|yeutsìdceIscìcncc's
cenccrns. In semc scnsc, thzt ìs z cerrcct zsscssmcnt, but en|y ìIwe
chzrzctcrìzc scìcncc nzrrew|y, zs nethìng merc thzn zn cpìstcme|ogì-
m| pregrzm. Hewcvcr, whcn wc censìdcrscìcncczs z brezdcr Ierm
o
|
phì|esephìcz| ìnquìqwìth dccp mctzphysìm| cemmìtmcnts, thcn, the
pesìtìvìstpregrzm ce||zpscs zs bcu mevc bqend thc|zbemteqte hc|
p
censtruct wer|dvìcws thzt ge wc|| bcyend scìcncc`s dìstìnctìvc cpìstc-
me|e@. Indccd, bcts zrcz|wzys ìntcrprctcdzndcxtcndcdwìthìn|zrgct
centcxts, znd "ìntcrprctztìen"czsì|ys|ìdcs te "mcznìng. " íerìnstzncc,
whztìsgcnctìcdctcrmìnìsmzndhewdocìtzhcctmerz| rcspensìbì|ìq'
Or,gìvcnthccxpcctcd rìsc ìnmrbendìexìdc|cvc|s ìn thcztmesphcrc,
hewweu|dchzngcdccenemìcpe|ìcìcsìmpzctensecìæwc|brc (whìch,
eIceursc, dcpcnds en dchnìngcemmunz| god)! Or, zcoptìngcurrcot
thcerìcs eIcve|utìen, whcrc docs z dìvìnìty rcsìdc, zndwhzt mìght it
de!Whì|cscìcnccmnnetdìrcct|yzddrcsssuch quctìens, ìtrcmzìns
g
ß
zctìvcpznìcìpzntìnthescdc|ìbcrztìens.Wcceu|dszythztscìcnccfe
thcqucstìen zndsìts zt thc tzb|czs thcmedcrztereIthcdcbztc,z|b
cit
netz|wzys zs zncutrz|pznncr.mcrz|| , scìcntìhcrcsu|ts bythcmsc|
vc:
mnnetprevìdc mcznìng, but thc vcqchzrzctcr eIthc scìcntìhcpìct
utc
ehcndctcrmìncs,zndz|wzyìnIerms,thcdcrìvcdznswcrs.Wheccrh¤
t
quìppcdthzt"cpìstcme|o@drìvc mctzphysìc" W premun±ycerr
cct
5cìcncc, zs zn cpìstcme|egy, rcmzì ns ìncxtrìczb|yceup|cd te thc
cxìs·
tcntìz| qucstìens thztdchnchumzn sc|I-knew|cdgc znd undcntzndìng
1hztceup|ìngdcscncsspccìz| scrutìny.
A wc cxp|erc thc ida eIscìcncc, wc must censìdcr me cem
p
ct·
ìngcenccptìens.scìcncczsztee| te premetc humznwc||-bcìng,nz
m
c|
ï
zn ìntc||cctuz| znd tcchne|egìcz| cntcrprìsc te unçcrstznd znd centr¤
l
nzturc, znd scìcncczs thc Irzmcwerk Ierbuì|dìngcxìstcntìæ znd m
c
ta·
WHAT Is SciENCE?
37
[
h)
sicz|
|ormu|ztìous. Iu thchrstmsc, objcctìvc kuow|cdgcìszpp|ìcd te
m
a
k
e th
ìugs or proposc gc
p
crz|ìætìous (|zws, hypethccs) zboutnzturc.
I n
th
cscc
oudmsc,bcts,|zws,zudscìcutìhcìuIcrcuccszrctrans|ztcdìnte
[
cts
ouz|k
uow|cdgctop|zcchumzusin uzturc. Lzr|ìcrI rcIcrrcdtethcc
as
htst
ordcrzudsccouderdcrcouccrus, rcspcctìvc|y,butIdìdnetmæn
to
i mp
|y
thzt"hrst"tzkcsprcccdcuccovcr"sccend. "mchhæìumzn±tc,
an
d
wh
ì|cthcdomzìnoIthchrsthzszrìchdcscrìptìvc|ìtcmtun,chznìng
thch
orì
zouso|thcsccondrcguìrcsrìgorous rcìtcratìen. I mzìntæn thzt,
n
ot
on
ly do humznìstìc ìutcrcsts ìnhucncc scìcucc, thcy |ìc cmbcddcd
i n thc
vcq
|ouudztìouseIthcscìcutìhcvcnturc. 1hcguctIerræ|ìqìs,
i n thc
cud, our guctIeruudcntzudìug,whcrcbythcìndìvìduæknewcr
m
astu|tì
mztc|ypreccss thcunìvcrsæ. Obvìous|y, mztcrìæ zdvmccmcnt
is
a ctu
ciz|zspccteIscìcucc, butthchumzucprogrzm, ìtserìgìnæznd
abidi ng cz||,dchucsthccemmìtmcntoIdìscevcrìngthcwer|dfr
P
.
Tcchuo|e@ rcprcscuts thc most ebvìous usceIscìcucc te dcvc|ep
ham+u ìudustq. "Industq"decsnetrcIcrhcrcsemuchtemztcrìæcu|-
tarc¾ to thc morcgcucræ uudcrstzndìngeIìndustqæ thcqtcmztìc
|abotto crcztc value. Whì|cscìcucc gcucrztcs vzst mztcrìz| wcz|th, ìts
tc
¢
huo|o@zudrcsu|tìngmzstcqoInzturc m|h||en|yzpzneIscìcncc`s
io
q
astrìz|zgcudz. Onthìsvìw,scìcnccbccemcsìustrumcntæ ìnscvcm
scoscs,zszuzutherìtztìvcìnstrumcntmrdscbing nzturc,æzpewcm
iostrumcut Ier thc tcchnìcæ mter oIuzturc, znd æ z pcrsenæ ìnstm-
æcot |or undtnJing thcwer|dzud nzvìgztìng ìt. by Iecusìngcxc|u-
sivc|youdcscrìptìouzndmætcqzscrìtìcz|teo|seIthcmedcmmìnd,wc
oc
§
|cctthccemp|cmcntzqceutrìbutìens thcscìcutìhccntcrprìscmæc
t¤w
+rdszmctzphyìcz|erìcntztìen.
P
+rt o|thcprob|cmeIìntcgrztìugscìcucc`scpìstcme|egìm erìcn-
tatiou
zudìts |zrgcr mctzphysìcz| ìuhucuccs erìgìuztcwìth pesìtìvìsm`s
«ay
so|
kuowìng. íerposìtìvìstscìcucc te chcctìvc|yzchìcvc ìtsgez|s,
thc
i uv
cst
ìgtìvczgcnt muststzndbzckhem uzturczndebscnc,estcn-
sib
|y
|romzvìwIremnowhcrc.1hcsubjcctvznìshcs, zndthztvzmnq
dc
pc
ud
s o
u thc Lzrtcsìzu dìvìsìon bcmccu res cogtans znd res eena.
[
u
0+us
uo |ongcr rcsìdc ìu uzturc, but mthcrstcpeutznd |eekat thc
u
o
iv
ctsc. O
csczrtcs thus dchncd medcru ceuscìeusncss zrìsìug Irem
s
Þ
| itti
ug
mìudIrembedy,zndthcpesìtìvìstssìmp|ybuì|tupenthztp|zt-
[
¤

0. T
hcìrscìcncc cxcmp|ìhcs humzus pccrìngzt thcwer|d ucutræ|y.
t•

t
hisstzncc, z rìh ìncxpcrìcnccdìvìdcssubjcctìvc ìnucrcxpcrìcucc
r
¤
0disp
zssìouztcebjcctìvcobscnztìeneIthcwer|dzndethcrs.Hc|dzs
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR ME
NI NG
ztruìsm,scìcucc's rcasou zppcars radìcæ|ydìhcrcut |rom pcrsouz| j
0q
g
,
mcut, whìch opcrztcs ìu thccthìcz| , acsthctìc, aud spìrìtuz| domzìus t
o
mcdìztcsubjcctìvccxpcrìcucc.
Gìvcn thc Lzrtcsìzu coustructìou, thìs putztìvczbso|utcdìvìsìo
u
of
subjcctzndobjcct provìdcs scìcucc wìth ìtscpìstcmo|ogìcz|strcngtha
n
d
ìts cencomìtzntmctzphysìcz| dì|cmmz. 1hcstrcngth ìs thc obj
cct
ìv
ì
9
conIcrrcd by thc zbì|ìty to dctzch obscnztìon (thcobscncr) Iro
m t
g
ç
ebjcct scrutìnìzcd. 1hcdì|cmmz dcrìvcs Irom thccxìstcntìz| guz
ud
+q
mztarìscs Iromscpzmtìngthchumznsubjcct]am thcwor|dtobcco
g
ç
8 dìspæsìonztcwìtncssa]t.1hìsìuuc|czdstothcvcqroouoImod
cta·
ìsm,whcrcthcobscncrrcmzìnsoutsìdcthc pìcturc shcwztchcs, yet
i s
compc||cdto rchzct nzturc ìn humzn tcrms. Andhom thìs uudcrs
ta
od·
ìng8 scrìcs oIgucstìons prcscnts ìtsc|I. Arc wc btcd to pccr Iorcv
crg
I
thcwor|dsc|I-conscìous|y, knowìng thzt wc zrc spcctztors oIuzt
0rc 8!
wc|| æ oIoursc|vcs! Lzn wc brìdgc thcdìvìsìon oIsc|Iznd thcwot|d`
Howdocsthcobjcctìvcstzrc bccomc pcrsonz|! 5ìnccscìcncc`swot|d-
vìw, ìts mctzphysìcz|zgcndz, ìs unhnìshcd ìnsuch tcrms, howdowç
comp|ctc ìt ìnwzysthztsìgnìqznd mzkc mcznìngm| thc pìcturc ptc-
scntcd!5pccìhcz||y, ìIscìcncc rccz|szwor|dwìthoutvz|uc, zndvz|ucis
cntìrc|yhumzn dcrìvcd, thcnhowzrcwctoìntcrprctnzturc ìn mczuìog-
f, humznctcrms!
Intcgrztìngthcscìcntìhcwor|dvìcwìntopcrsonz|cxpcrìcnccznddaì|j
|ìIc bcyond thcdìrcctmztcrìz| ìnhucuccsoItcchno|o@zndsocìz| po|ìcj
chz||cngcs U toækhow scìcncc joìnszn zsscmb|y oIdìhcrcnt Iorms
¤
|
know|cdgcznddìhcrcntwzysoIknowìng(1ou|mìn2001 ). bqondhov
wcmìghtundcrstzndscìcncc æzn ìntc||cctuz|cntcrprìscoræzcu|tum
l
ìnstìtutìon, wc must rchcct on thc ìmp|ìcztìonsoIhzvìngzwor|dvìcv
Irzmcd byscìcncc. Wor/view rcIcrs uot on|y to thc pìcturc oIrcz|ìq
scìcnccbcstows,butz|sotothcmznncrìnwhìchscìcntìhcthìnkìngpr¤
·
Iound|yzhcctsthe wa
y
onc pcrccìvcs thc wor|d zud oncsc|I, ìndìvì
da
·
a||y. 1ezpprozch thìs gcncræ ìssuc, wc must consìdcrhowztmns|ztìo
^
eccun bcmccu thc objcctìvcpìcturcoIthcwor|dznd thc mcznìngsby
whìch wc sìgnìq thzt wor|d. I zm rcIcrrìngto zn undcrstzndìngo|sci
·
cncc`sewnrztìonz|ìtyìu rc|ztìoutoothcrkìnds,zndìn thztcompzrìso6·
dcscrìbìugwhcrcwc mìght p|zcc thcpcrsouz|, subjcctìvcwysoIkn

·
ìng. Indccd,how mìghtwcdc|ìbcrztc|ycoujoìnhumzn-dcrìvcd,humu·
choscn, humzu-ccutcrcd vz|ucs wìth thosc objcctìvc vz|ucs thzt wc s
o
commou|yuudcrstzndæ ìrrcpzrzb|yscpzrztcdIromthcscorìgìns!
WHAT Is SciENcE?
39
Th
e placement of scientifc knowledge withi n a "web of beliefs"
( Q
u
i n
e
and Ullian 1 978)-public and personal-requires faculties that
draw
upon
creative resources to i ntegrate the objective world science
re
sen
ts
with other social and subjective values. The ongoing cretivity

e
q
u
i
red to make the world whole, to cohere, to hold meaning and sig­
ni
fc
an
ce,
attains a cenain hue when science is idolizd as a fse divinity,
so
m
e
thing
separated from human industr, a opposed to fnctioning a
a
n
i nstr
ument of human imagination. The challenge emerged in the early
mo
dern
pe
riod, became more clearly aniculated in the romantic era, and
i s
n
ow
re
newed by postmodernism's suspicions of enduring structures,
p
artic
ular
logics, espoused perspectives, cherished ideals, and universal
values. Indeed, postmodernism embraces a neoromanticism in its collec­
t ive endeavor to recapture a world oriented by the multitude of human
i nterests and human values, a world characterized by pluralism, legiti­
miztion of diverse forms of reason, and an appreciation of the commu­
nal character of individuality.
The West of today is no less challenged than earlier romantic critic
by a hegemonic reason divorced from the realities of human need and
val ue. We too must consider how to ft the scientifc mode of know­
i ng within the broader humanistic agenda. Here, Iargue that we cnot
regard science solely as some kind of separate activity for studying the
natura world. Rther, the scientifc worldview has asumed its dominant
place in contemporar society through its constitutive status of defn­
ing human realities. From this point of view, we must understand the
technicl master of nature not only as a Baconian flfllment of material
ad
vancement and mater of nature, but also a a response to the primor­
dial
, deep stimulus of metaphysical desire to know the world and place
our
selves within it:
The ultimate basis on which all our knowledge and science rests is rhe
inexplicble. Therefor ever explanation leds back ro rhis by mens of
more or less intermediate stage. j usl as in rhe m me plummer fnds me
bottom sometime ar a grter and sometimes ar a leser depth, yer eer­
where ir musr ulrimarely rch rhis. This inexplicble something deolve
on metaphysic. (Schopnhauer l 85l l l 974,vol. 2, J)
I
f
und
ers
tood in this fshion, a already discussed, the apparent confict
b
��
ee
n science and religion cnnot be about metaphyic per se becuse
5�1
e
n
ce
itself originates fom the same questions that inspire both world­
VIe
s.
T
he
criteria of truth, the methods employed, the political authority
4
0 SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANI NG
of each, radiclly difer, but the constellation of primordial human won
.
der holds both approaches to the same line of inquir.
So, let us consider a conceptual schema, which ties together this
dis­
cussion and thereby also draw some conclusions: Good reasons abound
a to why the origina, deeper meaning of science has been deliberately
obscured. One constellation of answers revolves around the prac
ti
c
al
results of science's epistemologica enterprises. Those successes see
m
to
depend on the eclipse of subjective and metaphysicl contaminants th
a
t
would conspire against the ideals of objectivit and neutralit.
M
uch
merit supports this thesis. The practitioners and philosophers of scie
nce
embraced positivism and thereby discarded the assembly of metaph
ysi­
m and existential questions that their science either totally ignore
d or
chose to answer i n its own, highly circumscribed fashion. Simply p
ut,
some questions were not answerable and therefore irrelevant to the scien
­
tifc agenda, and others were recst to conform to its worldvie. By the
1 920s, positivist philosophers were even disallowing such metaphysicl
questions as "nonsense" and not wonhy of analytical deliberation at al
(Frank 1 949; Ayer 1 952).
Of course, metaphysic cannot so easily be dismissed, and even the
positivists embraced a metaphyic, which would suppon their own phi­
losophy. However, to be fair, they were addressing the metaphysics of
religion and other belief systems whose forms of knowledge rested on
opinion or revelation, as opposed to empirical fcts. Some would main·
tain that the positivists assened a new onhodoxy and fung the pendulum
too fr from center, but we should not lose sight that they regrded them·
selves as fghting the same basic battle markng the legitimacy of scien·
tifc thinking aainst the religious: Simply, they pitted science's empi ric
objectivism aginst a religiosity that rested on metaphysica speculation.
Nothing less than the truth was redefned in the process. Referring ba
ck
to our earlier discussion, the ongoing debates about the relation of sci·
ence and religion are directly traced to this fndamental standof over
what one can say about metaphysics if one cannot prove a metaphy
si·
m statement scienti fcally. The answer, failing scientifc scrutiny, fa
ll
s
into the domain of personal belief and such belief becomes an i ndividu
a
l
truth category-subjective, unproven, and therefore valid only on
its
own grounds. Claims to some universality must be abandoned, at least b)
the rules of science. In shon, belief is divorced from objective kowle
dge
and cn claim legitimacy only within its own private sp�ere.
WHT Is SciENCE? 4
1
Once
the claim for divine judgment is dismissed in the secular court
o
f
a
djudiction, the matter sits, for science has largely defned what con­
stit
ut
es knowledge-objective truth-and more specifcally, what is a
_,,a opposed to an opinion. In this sense, the dictionaries are correct:
scien
ce is
about true knowledge, systematic knowledge of a sort not csu­
ally
found
nor applied. However, the application of such standards to all
a
p
e
cts of human thinking must fil and a more integrative strateg must
b
e s
ou
ght for addressing matters beyond the particular confnes of scien­
ti fc
inqui
r. So instead of promissor notes baed on expected scientifc
p
ro
gress,
we are better sered by conceiving of science as a tool to help
co
mpose
pictures of reality that must be coordinated with other belief
sy
stem
s. In other words, while scientifc knowledge has become constitu­
tive to the
way we think of the world and ourselves, those understanding
are tempered by personal experience and interpretation. When science is
vieed with this larger vie in mind, the objectivity of scientifc pursuits
couples with various forms of subjective judgments (both in determining
s
ocial polic in a political context and on a personal level, one's search for
existential or psychological undertanding). In that synthesis, the place
of science in Western societie become a means of refming the humane
questions that sponsor science, and een redirect current concerns over
scientism to a more meured appreciation of science's accomplishments,
current inquiries, and fture promises.
Sec ad It Vaue
T
he technical charcter of science obscures how science resides in a much
larg
er so
cial form than the laborator, or even the university or industr.
For
over
fve centuries, the received view of scientifc investigation has
hig
hlighted how a methodolog of discover and verifcation that cou­
p
les a uniquely rigorous empiricism to a critical rationality has evolved.
U
nderlying these to components resides a commitment to scrpulous
Ba
co
nia
n impatiality and Galilean neutrality (Lc 1 999) . These values
c
o
m
p
rise the bedrock of science's ethics, and in this moral realm sci­
e
nce
fram
es its epistemological character. While methodologies of the
la
b
or
ator
and their products have cptured the most interest, these are
b
a
e
d
on scienc's own moral code of open inquir, pluralistic discourse,
fa
l i
b
ility,
and transparency (at least ideally). Science's epistemolog, in
f
a
ct
,
is
v
alue-laden, and some values, the epistemic ones-parsi mony,
SciENCE AND TE QuæFOR MEING
cohcrcncc, grcdìctzbìÍìty,andso on¬hzvcbccnshzgcd byzdccgcrsc
¡
oIvæuc@vcrnìngscìcncc´s mtìonzIìq. (lor morcon cgìstcmìc vzÍq
cs
·
M lntroductìon,n. l .) lndccd,thoughzmorcgqztìcorìcnmtìon(¿
rcgIzccdthcgosìtìvìstìdæs,thccthìæÍcdìhostìIIstzndsstrong.
1hccthìcoIscìcno8 ìnscgzmbIc mm scìcncc´s Iorms oIknow|·
cd@.1hìsthcìs,zsynthcìsìIyouwl, lhzvcæIIcdzmora titn ob
g
(1zubcr 2005z). ("MorzI" ìn thcscnsc uscd hcrc mIcn to vzIuc bro
zd[
)
undcntood. Lodznd bzdzrcvæuc, butsozrcobjcctìvìqznd ncutµ·
ìq.)1hcmostobvìousægrc ìonoIthìsmom-cgìstcmoIogìæIzIIìznçi
s
Ioundìnthcdìscunìvcmom@vcrnìngthcogcnmìonoIìnvcstìg·
tìvchndìng,næcIy,thcmmgzrìsonoIdzm,thchoìnguìqzboutìntct
·
grcmtìon,zndthctmnsgzrcnqoIægrìmcnmImgm.1hccgzmctco
oImsmum8 bzscdonthchoncqoIthcgzrtìcìgznu, ìndod, honcq
ìs æsumcd æ z sìmgIccgìstcmoIogìæ rcguìrcmcnt. Frìvztccxgcrìcµ
cc
ænotbccomczgubIìc Ñct untìIscmtìnìæ byzcommunìqoIobscn-
cn. 1hìs mìght bczchìwcdthmugh dìmtægcrìmcnt ìn muItìgÍc Ízbo-
mtorìcor,zItcmztìvcÍy,thmughrcgomoIìnvctìgtìons,whìchzrcten
subjcct to rcvìw znd crìtìcìsm. ln cìthcr C, thc shzrcd cxgcrìcncc is
cmcìzIædmnIcnthchnzIcrìtcrìzoIobjcctìvìq,thztìs,dìvcncgcnpo-
tìvcconvc@ngonzmmmonæmcnt.
1hìsæcìzIzggmìszÍìs,bydchnìtìon,cthìæIìnæmuchæthcsocìdis
cthìæIymnstìtutcdbygznìcmzrruIc,gmctìo,znddchnìtìons.5ìmp|j
ætìngscìcnoæzsoìzIzoìvìqmnIcnzmomdìmcnsìon toìuchznc·
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i
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vìnucsoìcqhoIdsìnhìghctom:ìtìsgIumìstìczndnondo@ztìc(|.c 9 ³
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mc [Foggcr l º45, l º0Jj ). lnthìsr@rd scìcnoìszbuÍwzrkoIÍìbcm·
dcmomtìcsoìcq(Mcnon l º7J). lnrcgcctìngthztscìcnodoin
deed
sccktmthbysuch grìncìgIc, wc mmtb wµoImnmsìngìuostcn

bl.
zndIz@Iyzttzìncd momIgozIswìththccxccgtìonzI æcs oIdogm1
||.
zttìtudcormuduIcntgmctìothztthrætcntosubvcnthcìdæI.
Howcvcr, morc ìnsìdìous cthìæ dìIcmmæ hzvcdwcIogcdovcr
t
h
e
gætthìqycznæzrcuItoIthcgrowìngìntìmzqbcmccnìndustq
1
"
|
zædcmìc rcsczrch (Lrccnbcrg 2007) . LonhìctoIìntcrcst bcmccn
t
h
e
zggarcnt ìndcgcndcncc (rædncutmÍandobjcctìvcstzno)oIthcìnº
c
ª'
.

gtorzndthcmztcrìzÍzdvzntzgcdcrìvcdmmmrdsoIcorgmtcp

µ.
hzvc rzìscd dìsturbìng guctìons zbout thccorrcct rcIztìonshìg bc
Þ'''
·
grìwtcgìn æd gubIìc-suggoncd rcrch ìnstìtutìonsqd thcìr
g
c
P
|�
WHAT Is SciENcE? 43
( Ko
rnberg 1995; Schwan 1995). While hardly a novel relationship, the
i n
timacies of laboratory investigtors and their fnancial supponers have
b
e
come m
ore complex as private capital has increasingly supplemented
g
o
ve
rnment suppon for research. We will reexamine this matter in chap­
te
r
5
. F
or
now, sufce it to note that the ethic of reserch go mbeond
th
e
domain of honesty in generating and reponing investigtive reult.
Scientifc
research can no longer be segregated into simple "pure" and
"
appl ied"
categories, for vinually anything generated in the laborator
m
ay
promise fnancial gain to the investigator. With the growing alli­
an
ce
of
industr, venture capital , and university research, meticulous
contracts and ofces of "technolog transfer" which mediate the fnan­
cial
relationships beteen these various interests as patent, license, ad
proft-sharing, have introduced an entrepreneurial overlay on te pursuit
of truth for its own sake. Indeed, the study of nature extends well into the
"
b
usiness" of scientifc reearch, where commercial eforts complicte the
innocence of exploring nature.
These fnancial concerns represent only an aspect of the larer ethi­
cal framework in which scientists conduct their work. Given the cen­
tral i t of the ethic of how scientists govern themselves a truth seekers
mzd how the moral dimensions of the scientifc worldview refect the
i nterpretation of scientifc knowledg in a fameork oriented by huma
nee
d, we would do well to consider science cast in a moral famework.
Here, moral is considered broadly: the rules that defne objectivit and
di fer
entiate knowledge from opinion; the mores of scientifc conduct;
t h
e
r
ol
e
of nonepistemic value in scientifc inquir and ealuation; the
l arger
ethical context of scientifc knowledge applictions; and, fnaly,
t h
e personal dimensions that would integrate science's worldview with
exi
ste
ntial understanding and belief. In this widened mora contet, the

·al ues
of science ad the values uing science place invetigtive fnding
I
n
t
h
e on-going construction of social and individual realities. Typicly,
p
h
i
los
oph
e
rs of science see this exercise more narrowly, namely a placing
f
a
ct
s w
i thin encompasing conceptual theories or models. I sugest that,
befor
e f
acts, before theor, the values of science command the chaacter
of
k
n
o
w
le
dge, both in its production a well a its appliction.
d _
O
n this vie, ethic is undertood a etablishing and guiding the foun­
b
a
t
tons
of
scientifc practice and interpretation. Just as values guide the
l

h
avi
o
r
of moral agents, so too do values guide the practice of scientists.
e
r
u
l
e
s, having followed a winding historicl path, efectively etblish
9
Sci ENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANI NG
the groundwork by which scientists proceed in thei r particular proje
cts.
These are not just conventions, but rather instantiate the lessons lea
r
ned
of how best to accomplish the local tasks at hand. Accordingly, wit
ho
ut
te particular values of scientifc prctice and assessment, we cnnot
dif­
ferentiate scientifc conduct from other forms of i nquir; indeed, scie
n
ce
ha ofen sufered a blurring of those boundarie (Pickering 1 994).
The public natue of scientifc practice has raised new con
cer
ns
regrding rerch faud. That self-interet remains operative should s
ur­
prise no one. Afer all, scientists naturly pursue their own bet inte
res
ts
by promoting fnding for their projects (e.g. , Grenber 1 967, 1 71 -209)
and personal advancement generally is a constituent of professional
life
.
Howeer, some stretch the standards of ethica behavior, a do any pro­
ponion of humans arrayed on the ethical spectrum. Needess to say, slip­
page beteen the cup and the lips occur ofen enough to conclude that
scientists are hardly immune from human foibles. Nevenheless, such
breche of trust occion self-righteous indignation and attack on sci­
entists' authority (Greenberg 2003). Funhermore, public mistrust aris­
ing fom various celebrated C of scientifc misconduct ha threten
e
d
the scientist's autonomy (e.g. , Chubin 1 990; Bulger, Heitman, and Reise
r
1 993). Although no reliable statistics exist, rising public awareness of
reserch fraud threatens the ver legitimacy of science (Lfollette 1 996;
Judson 2004). ' These new concerns for accountability have challeng
e
d
the ver ethos of scientifc practice. Society's ever-increasing invetment
in scientifc puruits ha atered the relationship of eoteric knowledge and
public acces, with unpredictable consequence for both gverning scien·
tifc conduct and the direction and speed of its fture growth. Thus Wt
see a vivid example of science's blurred boundarie in government action
imposed on rerch institutions to ensure trustony rerch (Chubin
1 990). And, not surprisingly, the standing of science a a model of ethic
behavior puts its practitioners in a particularly hot mor spodight.
While recent attention has focused on scientists breakng the eth

m code, their normal conduct has contributed a consistent moral le

son to Western society. Indeed, science i tself with its distinctive so
cial
mission, open exchange, and rigorous standards of rationaity, in la
rge
measure dnes science. This moral posture presents science as an id
ea
·
izd venture towards truth and thus may be understood as representing
a core human ideal toward which our society must aspire (Cohen 1 974).
Ofering a model of both knowledge and ethic, science promotes a k
in
d
WHT Is SciENcE?
45
_
¡r
o
ral
activity that might appear unique to itself, but actually seres as
a
p
a
ragon of discourse in liberal societies.
The
intersection of science and ethics is easily traced from the ori-
i n
s
of W
estern moral thought i n Hebrew and Greek sources, where

he
o
ries
of knowledge and theories of ethics were not only analogous
b
u
t
cl
osely
linked. This intimacy is evident throughout modernit, fom
Bacon
to K
ant and beyond. Science becomes a dominating infuenc in
m
ol
di
ng
epistemolog well beyond the labortor, af ecting all forms of
kn
o
w
ledge production and adjudiction of evidence (e.g. , the judiciar).
F
u
rth
er,
notions concerning human nature and socia structure derive
fro
m
interpretations of scientifc fnding, which, in turn, infuence the
m
o
ral structure in which we regard our personal identities (e.g. , as citi­
zens)
.
Scientifc methods may provide a logic for moral discover; sci­
entifc i nvestigations ofer "the data of ethics"; scientifc achievements
determine, in the broadest sense, the scope and limits of responsible
moral choice; the ethic of scientifc investigtion seres as a model for
societa behavior and truth seeking; and, ultimately, science poses for us
t
h
e frontier of ne problems and new circumstances for old problems.
The deeper lesson from what Hans Reichenbach called "scientifc
philosophy" ( 1 95 1 ) is that the strugle to achieve a scientifc worldvie,
with all of its problems concerning objectivity and realism, ha provided
uS with rigorous criteria for discerning the limits of knowledge and,
clo
sely related, with appreciating the basis of logical choices in the ethi­
cal
domain. Claims for how science might contribute a valuable core of
objec
tivity to ethic have hardly been accepted in all quaners where the
a
ttem
pt to attribute a special truth ethic to science has itself been subject
to reasessment. Those who see the fll of science from its domineering
ped
estal,
where a naive positivism commands Truth and Realit, arge
t
hat science' s posture relative to directing moral inquir must be rerded
wit
h suspicion: how cn science be neutral if scientists are self-evidently
so
cial
creatures with political and psychological biases? While science
st
ill
hol
ds a pivotal place in Western societies, it has increingly sufered
asa
ults to its privileed standing. Indeed, why should science's governing
e
pis
te
mologies hold a privileed moral standing?
Si
nce Reichenbach's claims advocating logical positivism, science
s
tu
d
i
e
s
have feled the opinion that science is ver much like any other
so
ci
al
activit, and that the same general cultural rules that direct other

o
m
p
lex
cultur institutions also govern science (e.g. , Pickering 1 992).
he moral
theme then closely aligns with the reisionist epistemologicl
Sci ENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING
picture, and thus the second mora dimension of science æ a moral episte
­
molog penains to the values embedded in knowledge
.
I am not referri
ng
to how knowledg is valued, although this is highly relevant to this dis
cus­
sion, but rther how value are embedded in knowledge itself This a
pe
c
r
of scienc's ethic is most eident in the normative sciences, that is, the life
science, which evaluate fnctions as flflling cenain teleological criter
ia
(see chapter 5). Here, a normative spectrum is inseparable fom scienti
fc
descriptions. The implications for the medical sciences are self-evi
d
en
r
(Tauber 1 999a; 2005a, chapter 1 ), but when the fct/value distinctio
n
is
more broadly understood, we M that fas may lose their clear demar
c
­
tions in the natural sciences as well. Instead of some positivist ide
al
o
f
dispassionate, detached scrutiny, the interfc of human need is imposed
on the putative neutraity of scientifc inquir, and the complex interpl
a
y
offas and values isues a challenge to defning objectivity. Aer all,
com.
munal agreement underlie any notion of objecivity (e.g. , Megill 1 994).
for knowledge is social, that is, knowledge is constituted by social practice
(Pickering 1 992; Schatz, Knorr Cetina, and Savigny 2001 ) and em
b
e

ded i n social groups as a reseroir for use and identifction (e.g. , Ltoa|
1 987, 1 988; Nelson 1 990; Knorr Cetina 1 999; Kusch 2002).
The defnition of "social" focuses much of current debate about sci ­
ence's truth claims and the status of its knowledge (Hacking 1 999; Kuka
2000) , but beyond these particular issues, science as a human acti
v
it
demands values to defne itself. Some of these values derive most direcdy
from social practices, others fom a system of metaphysic, and yet ot

er from panicular legl, political, and moral philosophies. Recogniz
i
nf
this complexity has provided a heightened awareness of how science
ra�
be co-opted by politics and ideologies. Overtly (or subtly) infuen
ced
by its cultural milieu and moral environment, science never stood
aon•
i n an objective chamber insulated from the social pressures surround·
ing research and theor. Showing how science is so embedded doe
s
ß
(ì'
diminish science's own accomplishments, or even its apirtions, so
=-·`
as highlight how isolating science from what is typically regarded 8
S i
r ·
competitors distorts science's own character.
Instead of the various attempts to dissociate fas fom values, wh
i
cl·
are seen as contaminating objectivity, we have come to understand
t
"'
fcts are facts because of the values that confer a factual status.8 M
o
r•
tose values do not reside in some Platonic ideal domain from wh
ich
t
h, , ­
appliction confers the objectivity sought by investigtors. Not
onl
y h: ·
the independent status of facts been radically reappraised, that
i s,
'²'
WHT Is Sct ENCE? 47
b
eco
me
fcts becaue of the values attached to them, their meaning and
sig
nif
ca
nce are determi ned by the context in whi

h t
_
hey are formed,
a
p
p
ra
ised, and employed. In shon, vaues are constitutive to fcts, and,
m
o
re
to
the point, dif eet values determine how we understand fcts in
v
a
rious contets. Simply stated, fcts cnnot be separated fom the value
w
h
i
ch
em
bed them, and the understanding of sciencefom its institu­
tiona-
po
litical commitments to its various determinations of huma cm­
p
r
e
h
en
sion
of the world and human charcter¬not be apprehended
w
ith
out some baic appreciation a to how value fme eething.
The n
otion of an insular "fact" belies how facts are so comingled
with
the values and theories in which they are embedded that to disen­
tang
le the
relative roles of these suppons becomes a highly convoluted,
an
d
som
etimes irresolvable, endeavor. Thus the blurring of the fct/value
dich
otomy, both within the laborator and outside, represents the over­
riding characteristic of postpositivist science studies. This position arues
th
a
t a relaation of the rigid fct/value dichotomy recognizes that science
conti
n
ually eolves diverse value j udgments regarding its own practice
th
a
t are never steadfst, but always changing in response to new demands
an
d
contexts. Chosen and developed, they hardly stand stable. No formal,
fnal method exists to defne fct/value relationships. When theor and
f
a
ct confct, sometimes one is given up, sometimes the other, and the
choice ¾ofen a not is made "aesthetically," by adopting what appear to
be the simplest, the most parimonious, or elegnt, or coherent�ualitie
which
themselves are values. These are what Putnam calls "action-guid­
i
n
g
"
terms ( 1 982) , the vocbular of j ustifcation, also historically con­
d
i tioned
and subject to the same debates concerning the conception of
rationa
lity. The attempt to restrict coherence ad simplicit to predictive
the
ories is
self-refting. The ver logic required even to arue such a C
dLp
ends on
intellectu
a
interets unrelated to prediction a such. In shon,
b
y
dis
pelling the intellectual hubris of the scientifc attitude, we are lef
wi t
h
3
m
ore
dynamic, albeit less formal, understanding.9
1
T
he
se
co
ncerns, seemingly restricted to philosophy of science, actu­
d
l
y

a
ve
en
ormous impon. So much of what we generally understand
d
3
3£•e
n
ce,
w
hich is rigdy considered a paragon
of rationality and prog­
r
ess
. w
e h
ave associated wit an objectivity that escpes the vicissitudes of
!
P
r
e
J
u
d
i
ce
and bias. But if, a a result of recent
ressessments, we can no
1
1
n
ger
1
Û
Ut
ter y
sep
arate fcts fom the value that suppon them, the com-
"
ª
u
n
derstandings of neutrality and objectivity
teeter. The next four
SCIENCE AD TE QuæFOR MENING
chzgtcndccrìbthcdìsgutcæìsìnghomthccrìsìsovcrobjcctìvìty-

)
thcdcconstructìonoIobjcctìvìqzmìncdgmmìncno,howthzt rcqgg¸
ztìon hæ bccn rcgrcscntcd znd mìsrcgrcscntcd, znd whcrc thc crìtì
Q
g
¡
cIucìdztcmcwzvcrìngIìncbcmccnscìcntìhcknowIcdgczndìtszgp|
ì

tìons.¼cb@ìnwìththcìdæìudvìwoIobjcctìvìqhomwhìch
zII|
zt
¡
r
crìtìcìsm dìvcrgcd, nzmcIy thc ghìIosoghìczI cIzìms oIthc nìnctccµ
th·
ontuqgosìtìvìsts.
Z
Nineteenth-centur Positivism
lf'e have kstadMf)rtbrsmu. Itumrrrqearbeardiogbemr. we baeekst
,r// rverence )rtbrCbarcb;ituabergabIicao.... we baergratceot¬pt )rtbr
so
]
mtitiemaodoemrmrabubbIimdtbrrn e)ad )rgeiogg¬oanem.
botwe payagratpncr)rtbu)rrdm. ¡breU )itbugeor;tbro¬kim
on itsaay. ¡br aerUkeLeqbarraodceH wr baerkstearHepe,
arbaerkstearspnog.
Rph Wado Emern, "The preent ae"
Be
y
o
nd the
appalling scientifc illiteracy of the Aericn public resides
d p
rof
ou
nd igno
rance about the nature of scientifc i nstitutions and the
P'�
l i
ti
c
al infratructure of research, not to speak of a lack of understading
o
l
w
ha
t constitute contemporar scientifc method, theor constrction,
º�³
a
l
l the rest that goes into scientifc practice. Insted, most hold a view
o
t 'ci
e
n
c
e
that
mimic the aspirations of a nineteenth-centur idea. That
'�¹' w
a
s b
ase
d on a characteriztion that presented scientists as a ne
pn�s
t
h
oo
d in
serice to the pursuit of truth derived from radica objec­
� �
T
his p
icture of science was formally understood as a philosophy,
•''''''·*
wh
ose acendanc in the nineteenth centur eventually defned
1' 1' '' "t.•f
c
pr
ac
tice baed on methods developed for the physical science.
!L � . � .
_
1
d
e
sc
a
en
ces
soon followed, and, by the end of the centur, intellec-
``'
e
b
'
1
·
l
,
. .
ate
s
w
a r
ed
around how appropriately to apply the standards of
, , n
a
t
u I .
|
. v,h
1
ra sc
a
en
ces to the human sciences (sociolog,
anthropolog, and

o
g
[
S
mith
l ºº7, 2007} ) . The debate expanded beyond the walls
5
0 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENI NG
of the universities to include concerns uttered by humanists, theolog
ian
s
,
and other skeptics as to what might restrict the dominance of sci
e
n
ce
over other modes of knowing. And perhaps most importantly, all
mig
h
t
well have wondered in what ways this scientifc vision of nature defn
e
s
reaity (as already discussed). These issues defed simple responses the
n
and now.
Positivism consists of four major precepts:
( 1 ) nature might be obsered without distortion of human cogniti o
n,
which depends on a notion of objectivit that requires a ra
dical
separation of obserer from obsered, so that no subjective value
s
are alowed to play in the gathering and analying of data;
(2) facts emerge from data, and those facts may be assembled i nto
models and theories, which are then tested;
(3) realit is integrated, and scientifc methods cn be applied to study
all phenomena-physica, organic, psychological , and social-by
the same objective means;
(4) progress characterizes scientifc pursuits, and faith in that progres·
sion promises evermore comprehensive laws of nature. At least
,
so
it was thought.
Accordingly, from facts determined by objective methods, scientis
t
s
derive hypotheses that are closely exami ned by experimentation. They
then place these hypotheses in some ordered construct, which, in turn.
is formalized in predictive theories more successfl than previous ones.
Several assumptions in this formulation require mentioning. The frst
is that the inductive scheme by which individual empirical obseration
s
are general ized "presupposes metaphysics. " Alfred North Whi tehead
aptly referred to this basic presupposition, "an antecedent rationalism"
{Whitehead 1 925, 62) . The method based on this assumption obviou
sly
"work, " in the sense that such inductive reasoni ng has met with high
success, but as David Hume noted with suitable skepticism, wh it wo
rk
is not logically self-apparent.
A second profound metaphysical assumption builds on the ling
er
­
ing Aristotelian notion of natural kinds and the "thi ng-hood" of nat
ure
'
s
objects which science exami nes. These enti ties are assumed to ex
ist
a
s
contai ned within a simple location of placement (Whitehead 1
9
25.
69-70) , which, i n turn, depends on a particular understanding o
f th
e
space-time continuum. Twentieth-centur physics radically uptu
rn
e
d
NI NETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVI SM 5
1
a
uni
ver
se of discrete objects existing i n fxed coordi nates of space and
ri
me.
Th
is is important for our discussion because, with a simpler mecha­
ni
stic
ph
ilosophy of physics, "the real " is efectively local ized and cap­
t
ure
d
as
objective enti ties. Such "thi ngs, " wai ting in nature for human
di
sco
very,
Whitehead called the "Fallacy of Misplaced Concreteness"
¡
¡ q¿
5
¸ 72), by which he meant that the abstract descriptions of nature
a
ri si ng
from modern science have paradoxically been conceived as con­
c
r
ete real
ities. In other words, what we might consider as things extracted
(
an
d
ultimately abstracted) from nature are artifcial constructs of our
methods
and interpretations. For Whitehead, a more precise description
wo
u
ld ackowledge that "things" behaved more as "processes" -merg­
i ng, evolvi ng, and, most i mportantly, only captured as "thi ngs" upon
hu
man measurement and abstraction. This picture of reality originated
i n rhe revolutionar fndings of quantum mechanic, where the so-clled
·· measurement efect" essentially froze reality upon human interention
(obseration, measurement, assessment) . (Paradoxically, a particle only
exists in one place or another once measured, otherise it may be "some­
w
h
ere else. " Only by loking, does the particle fnd its place! � ) Whitehead
extr3polated the signifcance of such human interruptions to the macro­
worlds of non-atomic physic and the life sciences, where he saw the dis­
cover of entities as actually the construction of thi ngs, frozen in their
peculiar fashion by the scientifc methods of examination. He thus hoped
mec
hanistic physic would yield to a science of process.
Wile Whitehead's "process philosophy" has yet to generate a direct
i nfu
ence on contemprar science, he (ad other) did open the door to a
nt
line of philosophical criticism. Positivist philosophy had asered that
i nv
estig
tions yielded bo,which in the everday world of research ment
t
h
at
nature's objects and processes were independent of human interac­
'

°
ª
.
W
ith the quantum revolution, that position no longer could claim
l e
gi
ti mac.
Po
sitivists held that our picture of real it appeared as if humans did
no
r
p
articipate in the process of discover, when in ever sense, humans
»+
1
·
facts, albeit from natural phenomena. Their fndamental conceit
a
sse
rt
ed
th
at the objective data collected and facts sifed had expunged
'

h
u
man
factor to reveal the world as it reall exists. Accordi ngly,
h
u
r
an
i n
terention leaves nature essentially unperturbed, at least to the
e
x
t
ent
that
objectivit yielded thi ngs as they were in fct
.
But quantum
m
e
ch
anics
showed that this was not the case, and more generally, any
5
1 SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENI NG
interention carried an entire set of interpretative problems. So the
ch
at
.
lenge presented by the most fndamental physics up-turned positiv
is
m
's
third critical assumption, the radical objectivity in which facts are
con.
ceived. Besides the older concern of how objectivity might be com pr
o.
mised by "subjective" values, the positivists now had to consider a scien
ce
that flly acknowledged human presence and factored in human obser
a
­
tion. The impl ications were difcult to over-estimate.
In many respects, the impact of quantum mechanics represents t
h
e
critical turning poi nt in positivism's fortunes, and to appreciate the
sig­
nifcance of this reappraisal, let us briefy review the older position
s.
I
n
the ni neteenth centur, positivists had efectively invoked critical distin

tions beteen scientifc facts and the values that threaten to contamin
ate
them. In short, facts and val ues resided in split domai ns. This spl itti ng
of facts and values did not include the value of objectivity, which in
its
nineteenth-centur form became the cardi nal precept of the positivists.
For them, objectivity radically replaced the personal report with o
ne
written in a neutral voice and a universal perspective, or, in other words.
a report that might have been written by anyone given the particul
a
r
setting and circumstances of the investigation. Thus, because true knowl­
edge possessed no i ndividualized perspective, a community of obsere
r
s
would warrant the fndi ngs. Agreement on the signifcance of a fndi
ng
testifed to the veracity of the facts under discussion, and then the signif­
cance and meaning of the facts might be discussed. In the end, a hypot
h
­
esis, or even a theory, would emerge. Universal accessibility and a vie\\
from nowhere (i. e. , independent of personal bias) became the key criter
i a
of a new science.2
This move from the private sphere of experience to a communal
u
n
i ·
versal had begun at the dawn of modern science, but in the mid-ninetee
nt
h
centur this ideal of truth became clearly enunciated as a scientifc pri n·
ciple. The positivists' position comes from David Hume's fmous
ei
gh·
teenth-centur proclamation that one cannot infer an "ought" from
a
n
"is." This means simply that a moral C cnnot be deduced from
a n
a

ural fact. The critique is someti mes referred to as Hume's Law,
whi
c
h
attacks the apparent rationality of various ethical or religious positio
n
s. ·
We can trace the later attempt to radically separate facts and val
ue
s
t
tl.
Hume's original argument against the illogical deduction of religious be
l i
e!
from natural facts and morali ty from similar constructions derived ||³
°
'
natural law or other systems of supposed rational basis (Putnam
?0³·'
NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM
53
H
e
a
rgued insted that ethic and religion are grounded in human emo­
t
¸q
q
¡¸
n
ee
ds, and cprices that are rationalized into religious dogma and
_
q
@
justifctions (Lindley 1 986) . Developing that issue taes us too fr
a
f
el
d
, but the salient point is that his philosophy supported the scientifc
ap
i
ration of objectivity, that is, fcts divorced fom contaminating per­
·
qq
d
values. Much of nineteenth-centur philosophy of science and the
pr
acti
ce
it guided was based on extrapolating Hume's cardi nal insight;
pos
itivis
m succesfly rejected subjectivity, which tainted the pursuit of
"tre
k
owledge. " Indeed, the distinction of scientifc fcts and corrupt­
¸
ag
sub
jective vaue represents the crucial positivist distinction.
The status of fcts in the modern scientifc context dates to Francis
Bacon's endevor in the early seventeenth centur to replace metaphysic
with
the concrete, the datum of experience. A Lorrai ne Daston notes,
th
e
word "fct" derives from Ltin fcere, "to do," and in the sixteenth
centur, the word still meant an action or deed. The critical Baconian
distinction W that fcts ofered neither "consensus nor freedom from all
bia, but simply feedom from theoretical bias" ( 1 994, 45, 47) . Daston
maintains that fcts bece the focus of scientifc discourse because they
shi f
e
d attention away from the more contentious wrangling over rival
th
e
ories, thus a social norm fshioned scientifc practice:
Si nce the acdemicians belieed that paniality to one's own theories and
o
pinions wa the apple of discord rolled in their midst, the knd of impar­
tiality they sought ¾ impaniality to theor . . . . Therefore, the purpon­
edly theor-free Baconian fcts suited their purposes perfectly, despite
their other obvious disadvantages. Thus did objectivity come to be about
the
impanial Cination of neutral fcts. (Daston 1 994, 57)
Th
e
st
atus of objectivity depends on mul tiple components ftting

o
ge
ther.
The frst concerns the status of the obsering agent. The
I nv
en
tion of classical perspective in pai nting during the ffeenth cen­
t
º
0
s
eres
as a ready metaphor for the bi rth of modern science inas­
r
ºch a
a self-conscious position is assumed to surey the world (Fox
K
el ler
1 994). Tae a si ngular position, hold it, and then report what is
o
b
s
e
r
ed,
objectively. And j ust as pai nting assumed its particular styles
'

tr
ans
mission, so did the language of the newly emerging objectifed
s
ct
en
c
e
.
The scientifc rhetoric thus adopted a neutral language, which
r
��
e
c
ted the self-conscious separation of the obsering subject from the
'
_ J
ec
t
of study to describe an objecti fed world, an established autho­
r
t
a
l
a
u
thority, and, fnally, a "cleansing [of the lens of perception"
¡4
SciENCE AD TE QuET FOR MENING
(Gergen 1 994) . Each rhetorical device, again, those being a deta
ch
e
d
obserer and a neutral language, contributed to generate a radical
se
ns
e
of objectivity.4
In one sense, the ide of the detached obserer W the frst ste
p i
n
accurately asessing nature, but an even more radica rupture of subj
e
c
t
and object was required. The task of modern science was frst to
stan
­
dardiz obseration and then to eradicte the obserer altogether in
th
e
quet of a complete elimination of the subjective dimension. By foc
ui
n
g
on experimental procedures, Roben Boyle efectively propagted a sh
ar
e
d
research program, which generated a "multiplication of the witnessi
n
g
eperience" (Shapin and Schafer, 1 985, 488) . 5 With public demonstr­
tions and the enlistment of other scientists, Boyle's rhetoric of :
,
ja·:.
emphasized the obsered fcts and described eperimental procedures in
great detail (vinual witnessing). The singular subjective obseration was
thus cowitnessed and translated into a shared public objectivity throug
h
the machine's results. The disj unction of subject from obseration was
hardly complete, however, and for objectivity to assume its curren
t
meaning of being "a-perspectival," extensive rhetorical refnement an
d
the development of statistica analyses in the nineteenth centur w
e
re
required. Standardizd equipment and techniques universalizd scientifc
practice so that the frst person repon could be replaced by a universal
anonymous one. The scientist asumed this voice and became an author­
ity of how to achieve an objectivity that would leve the human only a
s
a machine among machines. This wa the positivist ideal, and this new
perona crried profound implictions and many denials.
Constructed in opposition to the romantic era view of the wa·
|
1
which privileged the individual's perspective and subjective experien
c
e
.
positivism denied any cogitvt value to value judgments. Personal
ex
p
e
­
rience, positivists maintained, cannot be extrapolated into a scien
ti
fc
description. "Noble," "god," "eil," or "beautifl" are qualities of
=
·
ª
or eents, and while such adjectives may be applied to nature, in
doi
ng
so, a projection of human sentiment is asigned to the phenomenon.
'
ª
direct reaction aginst the romantic, positivists sought instead to ra
di
c
l ly
objectif nature, banishing any and all human prejudice from scien
ti
f
c
j udgment. The total separation of obserer from the object of ob
se
ra­
tion-an epistemological ideal-reinforced the positivist disavow
al
01
vaue a part of the process of obseration. One might interpret, but
such
evaluative judgments had no scientifc (i .e. , objective) standing.
NI NETEENTH-CENTURY PosJTMSM
55
T
he
romantic deeply understood (and resisted) the hegemony of the
_
en
d
ant positivism, and they placed imponant cvets on the positivist
a
p
p
r
oac
h to nature on both epistemological and metaphysical grounds.
F
ro
m t
heir perspective, each inviolate obserer held a privileged vantage,
and
t
hey
jealously protected this vision (Tauber 2001 ). Simply put, where
rh
e r
omantics privileged human i nterpretation (exemplifed by anistic
i
m
agination) , the posi tivists championed mechanical objectivit (data
de
r
i
ve
d
from i nstruments, e.g. , thermometer, vol tmeter [ Daston and
Galison 2007]). A common understanding dating to the ninetenth cen­
rur portrays the scientist as vanishing, absorbed by her machi nes. A a
si mple reponer of her instruments, the subjective element is supposedly
el i minated. But if one steps back from the persona of the scientist as a
soci al entity and attempts to ponray her as subsumed beneath the epis­
temologic demands of the view from nowhere, a "paradox of scientifc
subjec
t
ivi
t
" emere (Fox Keller 1 994). This refers to the ostensible goal
of a completely detached obserer, one independent of subjective foibles
and prejudices, whose conclusions come fom "somewhere else."
For positivist science, fcts (of a cenain kind) were to reign supreme.
The argument beteen posi tivists and thei r critics, a debate revolving
arund the standing of facts, has framed philosophy of science debates
i nro our own era. To fnher understand that histor, we begin with the
tl
rs
r cl ear separation of these vying conceptions of science.
Te Aent
A
t
t
h
e end of the eighteenth century, Johanne Wol fgang von Goethe
d
e
V
el
oped a sophisticated phi losophy of science that i n many respects
ser
ed both the later positivists and their detractors. Goethe, rejecting
th
e
al l ure
of a radically objective science, appreciated that facts do not
r
e
s
i d
e i n
dependent of a theory or hypothesis that must suppon them.
Hi
s pre
cept that "everything factual is already theor" (Goethe 1 998, 77)
�va
s o
fere
d as a warning about the complexity of objective knowledge.
r
h
e s
y
nthetic project of building a worldview proceeds dialecticly, but

r
om v
e
r diferent tenets: Facts become fcts because of their suppon­
m
g
t
h
eo
r, which orders the obsered phenomenon and conceptually
�e
f
n
e
s
th
ei r meaning. Reciprocally, the fcts suppon the theor, which
1 �
a p
r
ocess that continues with integrating that scientifc picture within
t
e b
r
oader and less obvious intellectual and cultural contexts i n which
s
6 SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING
the larger conceptual apparatus is si tuated. Thus he argued that fac
ts
,
as independent products of sensory experience, are always processe
d
­
interpreted, and then put into some overarching hypothesis or theor
.
In
shon, obserations assume thei r meanings within a panicular context,
for
fcts are not j ust products of sensation or measurement as the positi
vist
s
averred; rather, they reside within a conceptual framework, which plac
es
the fact into an intelligible picture of the world.6
Of course, Goethe understood the potential danger of subjectiv
e
contamination of scientifc obseration, and, more to the point, the tenu­
ous grounds of any objective fct that relied in any way on interpretatio
n
.
The concept of interpretation stretches from inference to direct obser
a
­
tion, for any perception must ultimately be processed to ft into a lar
ge
r
picture of nature and must cohere with previous experience. Moreover,
in recognizing the clai ms of positivism, Goethe countered that the place
of the obserer in scientifc discover could not be completely omitte
d
.
Indeed, he embraced this fculty of j udgment, broadly construed, as both
the source of creative insight as well as a regulative faculty of great impor­
tance to the scientifc venture (Tauber 1 993). (Goethe's position would
be developed in a postositvit challenge by Polanyi , which is a topic of
the next chapter.)
So, wel l before the positivists formally espoused their own agend
a
.
Goethe clearly recognized the complex question of scientifc identi ty
between the detached obserer, supposedly divorced from theoretic
a
l
presuppositions, and the creative investigator: "my thinki ng is not separa
t
e
fom objects; that the elements of the object, the perceptions of the objec
t
.
fow into my thinking and are flly permeated by it; that my perceptio
n
i tself is a thinking, and my thinking a perception" (Goethe 1 8231 1 9
88.
39) . This reliztion of a confuence beteen subject and object was lat
er
formalizd and developed in tentieth centur phenomenological ph
il
os·
ophy, where the g is the privileged vehicle of the subject's relation t
o
the world; consciousness and meaning depend quite literally on how we
M thing (Husseri 1 935/ 1 970).7 The scientist must still endeavor ide
al ly
to objectif, but as Goethe also recognized, the integrating creative insigh
t
resided within a more complex fculty:
This experimental reality, which is the eoqreality we live immediately (a
opposed to scientifc "reality," which is abstract and grasped intellectually
rather than experimentally), is thus fndamentally subjective in natu
re
.
The objects that surround us function less
º
Å they are" than
º
Å the
y
NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM
mea
n, " and objects only mean fr someone . . . . To see implies seeing
mea
ningflly. (Morrissey l º88, X, emphasis in original)
57
T
he
inextricability of subject and object contradicts the ideal of the scien­
t i
st
as
in
dependent from the world-the austere obserer, collector of
data
u
nc
ontaminated by projected personal prejudice.
How then do the crucial and variable elements of creative intuition,
de
d
u
ction, and assembly of disparate information create "objective" real­
i ty?
Much of our understanding rests on a di ferent, "non-scientifc"
i
ntell
igence where "events are not counted but weighed, and past events
not explai ned but i nterpreted" (Heisenberg, l º7º, 68). Accordi ngly,
whet
her others have castigated or praised Goethe for his scientifc philos­
op
hy, his argument ultimately reduced to the legitimacy of a holistic fc­
ulty that would seek an exhaustively comprehensive study of his subject.
De
s
p
ite his objective methods (and his rejection of Schelling's projection
of "mind" into nature) , an aesthetic sensibility guided Goethe's studies,
which lef him with an unresolved confict: To what extent, as scientist,
was he alowed to vent the power of his anistic intuitions? How might he
freely acknowledge the legitimacy of aesthetic j udgment in scientifc dis­
co
u
rse, and what aesthetic principle would he fnd usefl?8
G
oethe's holistic attitude, born in aesthetics, enjoyed strong sup­
port th
roughout the nineteenth centur. For instance, Benedetto Croce
|90?/ l º72) , similar to Goethe, would call an and poetr forms of cog­
ni ti
on and saw the aesthetic as discerning diversity within an encompass­
i ng
u
nit. But they stood on one side of a deep fult line beteen science
a
nd th
e h
umanities. A the positivist and reductive strains of scientifc
i nqu
i r
gained momentum, the more general admonition to i ntegrate
th
e
wi
dest scope of experience was lost. While scholarly debate has exten­
siv
ely
con
sidered Goethe's scientifc character (e.g. , Amrine, Zucker, and
Weeler l º87, Bonof l ºº6) , he must, on my view, be regarded not as
a
"
poet
scientist," but rather as a "holistic scientist. " To label him as a
p
oet s
cie
ntist inappropriately i mposes our own divided sensibility of a
T
�v
o
Cultures world, when he regarded a unifed nature with a unifed
n
u nd
integ
rating poetic and scientifc sensibilities. The poet and scientist
n
e
cess
arily
view the same object as diferently refacted experiences, but

·
Goeth
e, the experience of the object must ulti mately be integrated by
a

ar
bitr
ati ng obserer. Through a synthesis of scientifc reason and aes­
� eti c
_
j u
dgment, he purponedly achieved uni fcation of disparate ways of
"º°· »ç.where "science and poetr . . . when properly employed [were
ss
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
regarded] as parallel and complementar ways of seeing" (Abrams,
1
9
53
,
308-9). This theme was pursued in diverse di rections througho
ut
th
e
romantic era (McFarland 1 969; Cosslett 1 982) and inherited by the
m
id
­
ni neteenth-centur positivists, who put their own characteristic star
p
o
n
this philosophy in seeking a radical separation of objective and subj
ecti
v
e
modes of thought. So, from their perspective, by labeling Goethe a p
o
e
t
scientist, he sufers the stigma of subjectivity.
Purging subjectivity from science constituted the major reorientatio
n
of the postromantic period. To view the world objectively is to re
move
the subjective ego from the encounter. That is, the scientist as the kno
w
­
i ng subject must divorce hi mself from projecting bias and subjectivi t\'
onto his inquir. I ndeed, the ni neteenth century lef behind the mu
lt.­
dimensional (aesthetic, historical , speculative) approach to pursue a 00
method, one that would seek a unifed reason in ways Goethe would h
a
ve
disallowed. Positivism's aspiration for the unifcation of knowledge a0
d
a
universal reason to pursue it took part of Goethe's scientifc agenda and
narrowed it to a si ngle logic.
But the wheel again turned, and during the later decades of the t
e

tieth centur, science studies, dissatisfed with a positivism that soug
h
t
to radicaly divorce the scientist from the object of inquir, rediscovered
how the context of study represents a crucial factor of scientifc purs
u
it
These themes will be frther explored later. Sufce it to note that some
contemporar science studies interpretations do not radically difer from
Goethe's own conclusions, nor do they del iver us from the imbrogl ios
he so clearly understood. Hi s holistic project has been fractured, and.
despite the extraordi nar accomplishments of the approach he opposed.
the philosophical need to pursue a unifed reason remains.
The positivists, of course, rejected Goethean holism because
it
WJ�
so ti nged with subjective elements. A world built from their princip
le
'
would appear essentially the same to all viewers because facts for
t
hem
have inden
r
nt standing and universal accessibility, so that irrespec
ti\'
of individua obserations, facts constitute a picture of reality. From
t
h
i �
orientation, the i ndependence of the known fact rests on its canr·J¹
»

r
nce to a reality that any objective obserer might know. This ass
u
m
e�
both a universal perspective-a view from nowhere-and a corresp
o

dence theor of truth.
Let us begin to probe the positivists' presuppositions. In reg
ar
d
'`
the relationship of fct and value, it seems obvious that we cannot easi l.�
divide these beteen to domai ns that have no overlap. Even the p
o
sl ·
NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVSM
5
9
t
i
v
is
t
stan
dards applied to natural science represent values, historically
a
rr
i
ve
d at
and chosen in everday practice (Putnam 1 990). 1 0 Indeed, facts
a
re
fa
cts because of the values assigned to them. But the positivist main­
rains
th
at a natural fct refects a natural reality, and the objectivist values
e
m
ploy
ed
by scientists are suitable for ascertaini ng such bits of reality.
P
hil
os
op
hically speakng, their position rests upon the "correspondence
t
heor
of
truth" (Lynch 2001 ),
.
which states si mply that our cogni tive
f
n
ctions
present the world directly to U. Common sense holds that we
h
a
ve
perceptions and derivative language and symbols which depict that
r
e
al it
y d
it i. So, on that basis, facts are simply the currency scientists
em
pl
oy to kow nature, and we cn be confdent of their worth because
facts
are "bits" of that reality. In sum, fcts co"esponJ to nature's reality
i
n
the
positivist mind-set.
The alternate vie is perhaps counterintuitive at frst, or so obvious
that it hardly seems possible that frious arguments have ensued on its
:'.| ±. the world clearly exists, but the real i ty we perceive can only be
real ¾ we recogiu it. A reality greater than the one we have so far per­
ceived seems a reaonable inference, but that is not the question at hand.
T
h
e issue is that reality is that which we know. Our brains have certain
knowing capabilities that have evolved to allow successfl navigation of
the world. We are highly successfl and we C control many aspects of
nature, which prove the efectiveness of our cpacities and confrms the
confdence that we kow the real. But human cognition is disti nct to our
species and thus the reality we know, the human i ntercourse with that
r
eal i t,
ha a diferent character from that of my dog or the fy buzzing
arou
nd my
head. Al three of us live in the same world, but our respec­
t i ve per
ceptions of what is are quite distinct, so our respective realities
al s
o
di f
er.
Indeed, even human real i ty changes in history. Before the
t
e'
eSC
o
pe or
microscope were invented, reality appeared quite diferent
f
r
om
the
one we now appreciate, and with the relativity and quantum
r

vol
utions,
the ver notions of time and space have assumed a radically
d
• f
erent
con
fguration from that described by Newton. We now may
h
a
ve
-
more
complete understanding of the real, but in what sense can
�ve �
|
-
|
¬
to
know the real in any fnal sense? We are limited by our col­
e
c
u
ve
m
ind,
and as powerfl as it undoubtedly is, limits are at play. I n

t
h
e
r w
ords,
the human mind and nature together comprise realit. This
a�t
e
r
f
orm
ulation has several philosophical expressions, but for now, we
¨"'
dis
c
uss
the epistemolog of this mind-dep
endent world as a kind of
:
� ª³vzm.
6o SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
Constructivism, at least in the context of our discussion abo
u
t
sci .
ence, refers to the process of contctng the context in which
fa
ct
s
3l�
placed, that is, in a model or theor. For the positivist (who holds
to
¡g�
metaphyica realism discussed above) , fcts are real, and we j ust hav
e
__
be clever enough to ft them into the puzle, and thereby undertand
t
h
ei r
proper signifcnce and meaning. For the "anti-realist" critics,
fa
cts
3l�
constructed to some degree, and the debate among them is how
much.
Lter chapter are devoted to this isue, so here we only note that
w
h
i k
conta ha proven a highly platic concpt, we may distill the deb
ate
i
nto
a major dispute about whether fcts ft into a mosaic scientists
di
sco
z•e;
(and are therefore "real") , a opposed to placing fcts into a fra
mewo
r
k
which ha been constructed fom various elements. Those "extr
curricu­
lar" pieces are not j ust the frniture found in the natural world,
but
a
lso
include powerfl cognitive components derived fom culture, lang
u
a
g�-
and histor.
With this background, we come back to the fct/value dichotom� .
The question devolves to an argument about the values employed h
build the scientifc edifce, namely, to what etent epistemic (perin
i
n�
to kowledge) and nonepistemic (socia, cultural, linguistic, emotiona
l
.
etc. ) vaues play in portraying the reaity science ofers. Contempora�
scienc studies have concluded that, a peristent a the positivists might
have ben in attempting to stamp out subjective infuence, they only S0t·
ceeded in mang them seem disreputable (Daston and Galison 200/l
The stor is frther complicated by the stark distinction bet
e
en
theor and obseration made by nineteenth-centur positivists. Th
ey
t
o• '
reizd that placing fcts (obserations) within a larger construct, u
sual h
a model or theor, introduces a bias, even a circularity: the inte
rp
r
e
t.­
tion and the fct support each other: the theor places the fact
wi r
h
i r
the larger construct, and the construct is supported by the fct. In
o
thL •
words, the fct i s a fct becuse it flflls the criteria that permits its p
la
c

ment in the theor that require such fct, and the theor, in turn,
f
e
e
d
·
itself with fcts it ha construed a fctual. Considering their passio
n
t • '
excise biased i nterpretation, such potentially subjective commitme
nt ·
or prejudice remained troubling to nineteenth-centur positivists. T
h
('
had highlighted this problem a crucial to their own undertaking b
e
c
a
u·,·
they argued that, to have objectivity, obserations must be fre
ed
o
f

bias, and they were self-consciously aware that bias extended t
o
e
\e
r
·
apect of the scientist's obseration, from data retrieal to interpret
ati
l1
"
NI NETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVSM
61
oc
c
o
r
ding
ly,
psychological projection, self-interest, and, most abstractly,
· ·
o
m
mi t
ments to a particular hypothesis or theory, might contaminate

|
e
s
an
ctity of scientifc facts and thei r proper interpretation.
Thus
dis
ti nguishing facts from nonscientifc values provided a crucial
d
eme
nt
of the positivist program. The attempt to control for subjective
bi
a
s e
x
p
lai ns,
at least in pan, later efons to divide the criteria and logic of
| a
¹esIi
ga:ive "discover" from those of"verifcation. ` ` By diferentiating
: |cp
ro
cesses, obseration putatively moved fnher away from interpre­
t
Jti o
n, allowi ng that (assuming that) each requi red diferent modes of
o
b¡ ect|v
|q. In short, only if obserations were i ndependent of theories
(o
uld they sere as evidentiar warrants of a theor's adequacy, and that
usk re
quired the control of contaminating prejudice. Contemporar sci­
.a
ces
tudies accept these kinds of distinctions as sering an ideal , but
metic
u
lous obseration of practice (which I will discuss in chapters 4 and
; )
h
as s
hown them as only idealiztions and working standards.
Te Knowing Ant in Dispute
There i s no escape from the constraints of an obserer fxed by her indi­
. 1+.|
perspective, contextualized in some obserational setting and com­
mi ned to processing information through some interpretative schema.
·uc
h
.a
obserer cnnot adhere to a rigid identifction of facts based on
J
n
idealiz
ed separation of the knower and the known. Various kinds of
\ Ji ues kn
it the factual world together into a more or less coherent world­
\ i cw (
Tauber 200l ) .The strategies var. The social , linguistic, and polit­
i cJI
ef
ects ofen lie hidden. The ideological infuences invariably remain
'uh
tl e.
T
h
e commitments to obscure conceptual structures usually rest
Ju
rmanr.
B
ut in the end, each of these extracurricular i nfuences is i n
,; ,
r
ce
,
and
the strugle for objectivity becomes j ust that: a strugle. I n the
o
n
g
oi
ng negotiation with the natural world, on the one hand, and the
\u
m
muni
t of scientists and their panners, on the other hand, scientifc
· ·

.
-
em
erges
. . . not in any fnal form, but only as a tentative statement
ot w
-
.t
con
sti
tutes the rea.
T
h
es
e bro
ad concl usions, of course, are the product of our own
��
'

th
e nineteenth centur, despite some appreciation of the cveats

�c
rt bed
ab
ov
e, the radic separation of the obsering/knowing subject

11
• h
e
r obj
ect
of scrutiny sered as the single most i mportant character­

· .
o
f
po
sitivist epistemolog. Becuse of this understandi ng, positivists
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
claimed that science should rest on a foundation of neutral and
dis
p
a
.
sionate obseration: the more crefl the design of the experimental c
o
n.
ditions, the more precise the characteriztion of phenomena, th
e µ
Qj
g
likely the diminution of subjective containants. Thus the strict posi
ti
v
.
ist confned herself to phenomena and their ascenainable relatio
nsh
i
p
s
through a vigorous mechanica objectivity. That model, developed µ
Q
SI
asuredly in the physical sciences, W quicky translated to the biol
ogi
c
and social sciences, which stretched the positivist standards to acco
m
­
modate a diferent epistemological orientation, one fmed by normati
v
e
standards (Tauber 2005a).
This general approach was not limited to the study of the na
tur
a
l
world, for by the 1 850s, positivism came to be understood a a p
h
ilo­
sophica belief which held that the methods of natura science ofer the
only viable way of thinking correctly about huma af i rs. Human su

jectivity now reided under a ne lens of inquir, and with tis mandte,
the human sciences emerged (a matter discussed below [Smith l 99/,
2007] ). Accordingly, empiricism, processed with a self-conscious fear of
subjective contamination, sered a the basis of al knowledge. Facts, the
products of sensor experience and, by extrapolation, the data derived
from machines and i nstruments built as extensions of perceptive f
c
ul­
ties, were presented a self-sufcient entitie; "hypotheis" W defned 8
the expectation of obsering fct of a cenin kind under cenain condi­
tions; and a scientifc "law" wa undertood a the proposition that under
certain conditions of a cenain kind, facts of a cenain kind were
un
i ­
formly obserable. Any hypothesis or law tat scientist could not defn
e
in terms such as these would be written of 8 "pseudo-hypothesis" or
"pseudo-law. " A newly construed attitude would regulate the U of such
terms a knowldge, scence, cogiton, and inrton. Thus the sciences
separated themselves fom older traditions of inquir.
In summa, nineteenth-centur positivist proponent, who reg
ard
ed
scientifc growth a synonymous with modernit and progres, emb
r
ced
a method whose value have not only bequethed a increing cpa
ci
t
to control nature and raise human standards ofliving, but a provided
a
powerfl, albeit panicular, mens for undertding the world ad hum
a
n
nature. Doging that promotion, a critica chors sw science a distor·
ing human life and imperialistically dominating other modes of ex
p
e
r
i
­
ence. In i ts endeavor to seek some fnal truth (defned by its paroch
i
a
l
methods) and to embrce its own mode of rtional discour, critic w
ith
NI NETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVSM
c
hi
s
p
e
rsp
ective regarded science as overhel ming other kinds of knowl­
e
d
ge
.
m
ost
notably those oriented by humanistic values and concerns. On
c
hi
s
vi
e, the relentless assenion of positivist values-the scientism aris­
i
ng
fro
m the projection of such values beyond the domain of the natu­
ral
sci
en
ces-provided narrow and distoned views of human nature and
soci et
. So
me of the contentious issues in the Science Wars (see chapter
|)o
rigi nated in these ni neteenth-centur debates about the character of
re
ason an
d what counts as rtional .
The
posi tivism that arose in reaction to romanticism framed a
gr
oup
of
questions derived from the radical break beteen subject and
o
b
ject
that the positivist averred as necessar for scientifc inquir. From
s
u
c
h objective knowledge, the romanticist asked, i n turn, how scien­
t i fc knowledge becomes personall meani ngful. Or as Schiller asked,
" How are we to restore the uni ry of human nature" in a disenchanted
world?
(
1 80 1 / 1 993, 1 2 1 ) . To illustrate this issue, consider Henr David
Thoreau, who ofered a philosophy actively engaged in critic dialogue
with positivism. Although we have a diferent conception of science than
the one he combated in the mid-ni neteenth century, the basic issues
remain the same.
T
horeau powerflly depicted how individual j udgment in all of its
multitudes of expressions holds nature and the individual together. For
hi m, beyond the requirements of scientifc scrutiny, which he actively
p
u
rsued, creative efon places facts, both individualized and discrete, into
so
me larger structure. For Thoreau, analysis fndamentally was a sel
cmzsdou interpretative act that synthesizs the perceptions of the world
i nto
a
construct that confers meaning. Judgment mediates the action by
wh
ich
the i ndividual places the data within a theoretical framework or,
a
l ter
n
atively, incorporates their obserations into an aesthetic, moral , or
spi ritual framework that confers personal meaning to the obserer. In
e
a
ch
c
ase, the individual makes a self-conscious, interpretative, creative
j
ud
gm
ent. Ad j udgment is value-laden and thus undeniably individual­
i
z
ed
(Tauber 2001 ) .
Thoreau penned his most i magi native writi ngs, the result of hi s
"
e
x
periments i n l iving," duri ng the pivotal moment of romanticism's
e
.
b
b
and positivism's rise. I ndeed, during the 1 850s he expertly prac­
t
i
c
e
d
"n
atural histor" both in his own amateur pursuits and as a speci­
m
e
n
colle
ctor for the newly arrived Harard professor of zoology, Louis
A
g
g
asi
z (Tauber 200 1 , 1 22-24). (That faculry appointment signaled
Sci ENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENING
the professionaliztion of biolog in the United States, which in
cl
ud
e
d
a newly conceived organization of the academy beteen the scie
n
ce
s
and the humanities. ) Thoreau's scientifc endeavors i nvolved ca
ref
ul
measurement and obseration in many diferent venues. He cen
ai
nl
v
comprehended how to apply systematic thinking to a problem, w
he
th�
r
formulated as a record of the frst appearance of fowers or as the
te
ch­
nical challenge of determining the best mixture of day and grap
hite
to
make a better pencil. In other words, Thoreau knew what it mea
nt
to
engage in the science of his day, and reasonably followed the standards o
f
geolog, taonomy, ornithology, entomology, botany, and ichthyology
in the naturalist tradition (alls 1 995).
Î Z
However, from another vantage, Thoreau saw the stakes at risk in the
ascendancy of a new scientism that accompanied the rising tide of pos
i
­
tivism, which began to sweep the scientifc community of the 1 850s. Li ke
other romantic, when he repeatedly asked what the relationship beteen
the object of inquir-the natural world-and the method of study and
reporting was, the answer appeared to displace the i ndividual from th�
i nquir. For him, objectivity obstructed his individualized vision of wha
t
a description of nature must attain. He acknowledged the importance oi
scientifc i nquir; he denied that this was the end of his studies:
I fear that the character of my knowledge from year to year becoming
more distinct õ scientifc-That in exchange for vies Å wide Å heav­
en's cope I am being narrowed down to the feld of the microscopeI see
details not wholes nor the shadow of the whole. I count some parts, õ say
"I know." (Thoreau l ºº0,J80)
His epistemological endeavor contains multiple layers and as j
udg
ed
by positivist standards, would meet with only varing success-swi
ngi n�
beteen detailed obseration of all forms of nature to a distinctive p
r
o
se
poetry written i n the genre of nature vignettes (Tauber 2001 , 8
l
÷^'
9 1 -92). Thus Thoreau's natural history is a complex array of se
ver
a
l
modes of knowing and an overlapping of several kinds of writing. He
i nvoked diferent rationalities. To appreciate hi s achievements, we =-·'
be sensitive to the role each played in mediating his experience.
Of course, the positivists made no allowance for this more
glo
b
a
l
experience, while the romantic made this challenge their chief co
ncer
n·.
For the latter, the study of nature ofered a personal comprehen
si
o
n
`
the world, a picture of reality that sugests insight i nto, and th
ere
by
a
n
orientation of, humans in nature. The critical step moves the o
b
s
e
rer
NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVISM
' |
¡
_scien
tist) from outid the "picture" to a subject within the picture.
A
n
d th
us
we have the baic confict beteen to ways of looking at the
wo
rl
d an
d
being in it.
Two Cut
¿
¡
_
te
rm
scientist was coined by a Bri tish scientist and philosopher of
sc
i
e
nce,
William Whewell. In 1 840, writing in the introduction to his
¡,j,,,
¡
gof the Inducve Sceces, Wheell commented, "We need ver
much
a n
ame to decribe a cultivator of science in gneral. I should incline
to call him a Scett" (ciii). The defnition itelf is not noteorthy, but
:|el
ate
date of its birth is. Aer al, the word "science" is ancient. The
Lati n scientia means "knowledge" as opposed to sapientia, wisdom. I n
ata
_
t
words, scienta i s knowledge of, or cognition about, the world, as
opposed to the more self-refexive domain of wisdom. And sce, "know­
i ng," originally meant "to separate one thing from another, to distin­
guish, " which also points to analysis of a paricular kind. Certainly, this
etymolog closely adhere to what we broadly undertand science to seek.
In short, the word scence has an ancient etymolog, but "scientist" is
di sti nctly modern. Indeed, Charles Darin, who wrote during the same
peri od a Whewell, referred to himself a a "natural philosopher. " Darin
careflly composed his language, and as a gentleman, he had good reason
:o
prefer the older designation. The term philsophical was not explic­
| t| yd
efned but generally stood as the study of the natural world that
i nc
l ud
ed the search for laws in biolog, a dissatisfction with teleological
argum
ents, a certain speculative or intuitive attitude in method (especially
r
am
pa
nt amongst the Natrhilsophen), and a general commitment to
J
n i d
ea
l ist
approach (Rehbock 1 983, 31 1 ) . In addition, "scientist" was
|0U
ea
ily associated with commercial overtones of technical applications,
an
d
t
hus the designation carried a pejorative connotation of someone
w
h
o
wa
s inclined to look for the economic benefts of discoveries in con­
r
r_
a
st
to
the pristine search for true knowledge. Not until the end of the
nm
etee
nth
centur would the term scientist assume more neutrality.
1
T
h
us, u
ntil the mid-nineteenth centur, science was a ctegor of phi­
os
o
p
hy
.
The examination of the natural world was part of what philoso­

··
·
di
d.
Only as the methods of scientifc inquir became increasingly
��c
h
ni
c
al,
and a new professionalism took hold in its various disciplines

d -s
c
ientist emerge as someone di ferent from a philosopher. If one
66
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
exami nes rhe Western intellectual world as late as the American Civ
i
l
War, the educated classes were comfortably conversant with the l
at
e
st
scientifc fndings, and many pursued what we would cl "amateur"
sci
.
ence (Tauber 200 I , 1 2 1 -3 I ) .Chemistr and physic began to separ
at
e
_
bit earlier, bur cenainly natural history remained the province of a
wid
e
audience. I am nor referring to irs popular mode: gentlemen would go
îû
natural histor meeting well into rhe 1 850s and 1 860s without any p
ro.
fessional encumbrances to their fll paniciparion. In shon, until
ab
ou
t
1 50 years ago, most scientists and philosophers shared the same inte
ll
ec­
tual bed (Postlethwaite 1 987) .
However, advances in scientifc techniques and methods of srudr
required specializtion. The techniques developed i n the nineteenth c
e
�­
rury refected a growing sophistication in terms of both material i nv
e
s
­
tigations and the mathematics supponing them. The feld of "biology'
was invented as irs own discipline in rhe frst decde of rhe ninereemh
centur, and by rhe 1 820s, Claude Bernard ( 1 865/ 1 927; Holmes 1 974)
and other physiologists were reducing organic processes to physic and
chemistry (Galary 1 97 4; Lenoir 1 989; Kremer 1 990) . Concurrently.
physics and chemistr were employing new mathematic, primarily 5î3·
ristica in nature, which by the 1 870s created statistic mechanic and all
that it spawned. Focused anenrion to technica kowledge bece a pre·
requisite for active paniciparion, and this demanded speciaizd traini ng.
Eventually this professional narrowing led to academic and professional
segregation in Western Europe and in the United Stares (Knight 1 9
86:
Bruce 1 987) . For instance, in Prussia, rhe number of students enroll
ed
in
universities quadrupled during the nineteenth centur, while the num
b
e
r
of those studying newly formal ized sciences increased ffold (Proctor
1 99 1 , 76-77) . By rhe 1 870s, science was divided into various natural
an
d
social sciences, each of which assumed a high degree of technicl comp
e
·
renee and cognitive trai ning (Smith 1 997) .
The fruits of rhar labor resulted in new industries derived from
sc

entifc fnding and their successfl appliction ro materia culture. Si nce
the Renaissance, science had been sold as a shrewd investment: devel
op
scientifc inquir, and rhe discoveries will be convened into eco
no
mi
c
.
militar, and social power. Indeed, the ovenure has been tre to irs p
ron
·
ise; few can dispute rhar rhe triumphs of technolog are inseparably li
n
k
e
d
ro rhe success of rhe underlying science. Bur technolog is not science
; rhe
ro are distinct. Technolog builds materially on scientifc insigh
t
and
NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM
m
uc
h
el
se,
while science seeks to discover the character of nature and is
t
h
us p
art
of the philosophy of knowledge. On this view, technolog is the
11
ppli
a
t
on of knowledge for material innovation, while science underlies
s
u
c
h
en
gineeri ng. But the close identifcation of science and technolog
o
f
e
n
blurs this distinction. I mention these diferences here to emphaiz
th
at
science has been too ofen associated with its product, a opposed to
i ts
d
eep
er
commitments to philosophical inquir, albeit of a special kind.
More
importantly, the intellectual discipline of each domai n drifed
a
p
art.
The hermeneutical methods used in the humanities, writ large,
have
th
eir own standing. But the interpretations applied to human cre­
a
t i
vit
are not suitable for the study of nature under the present scien­
t i fc para
digm. The various objects of investigtion have evolved diferent
a
pp
roa
ches and diferent truth criteria. Those who would separate sci­
en
ce
and the humanities would do so primarily on these methodological
di
vergences. Indeed, the separation is rooted in the ni neteenth-centur
modi fcation of positivism to a more radical format and its extension to
the human sciences, one that increasi ngly sought to describe the world
-|,:::i-:[(Simon 1 963; Kolakowski 1 968; Daton and Gal ison 2007) .
C
onsequently, nineteenth-centur positivism provided a philosophy
tor the sciences to claim a unique i ntellectual and academic territory.
Those borders were jealously guarded and broke a long-standing arrange­
ment. The humanistic-scientifc all iance, rooted in the Renaissance and
matured during the early modern period, remai ned i ntegrated through
the Enl ightenment and spl it only during the mid-ni neteenth century.
Wi th the professionaliztion of the scientist and his segregation within
t he
lab
oratory, those who remained created thei r own domicile, the
h
umanities.
Not surprisi ngly, given the segregation of the scientist, humanism
(
·
e
fe
rri ng to the rediscovery of the classical tradition in the medieval
,
··
.a
+
, ;
was coi ned (like the word scimtist) in the ni neteenth centur.
H
uman
ists were origi nally concerned with a general eduction that spans
t
h
e
clas
sics to modern science. But humanists came to be associated
w
i
th
the broader liberal agenda: freedom of thought, tolerance, revision
a
nd
corr
ection of opinion, open communication, and a self-critical atti­
t
ud
e
-
all in the employ of frthering a humanist understanding of the
�'º¯
|
+

That interpretation was founded on a human-based understand­

ª
r
(
h
uman reason as opposed to divine revelation) and human-centered

ª

q
u
t (celebrating the autonomy of the moral agent and knower) . Of
68 SciENCE AND TE QuE FOR MENING
coursc thìs hzrd|ycxhzusts thc humznìst zgcndz, whìch wou|d ìn

c
coursc oIìts dcvc|opmcnt ìnc|udc thc prìmzcy oIpcrsonz| j udgmco
t
,
ìndìvìduz|-dcrìvcd Irccdom (zgzìnstznyIorm oIzuthorìtzrìznìsm) , ao
q
zn ìntcgrztìonoIvzrìcdIormsoIknow|cdgc. Notcthzt, rzmcrthzn
scn
-
ìngzsz mozt, thcscundcr|yìngprcccpuzndthcvz|ucsupponìngthc
g
brìdgc thc ccntrz| conccrns oIthc humznìtìcs znd thc scìcnccs ì
nto g
powcrm| z||ìzncc. Accordìng|y, thcscìcntìhcwor|dvìcw cou|d mzkc
ìt
s
c|zìmsbæcdonz |ong hìstoqoIcoup|ìngìtspznìcu|zrconccrns to
t
þ
is
|zrgcrprogram.Ahcrz||, scìcnccorìgìnztcdæzcontrìbutìngmcmbc
ro
f
thcphì|osophybcu|ty,zndonthìsbrozdvìw,scìcnccìspznoIzhìsto
ri-
cz|dcvc|opmcntoIhumznìstìcthought.
A|though scìcncc Io||ows z nzturz|ìstìc phì|osophy, ìts cmpìrìcìsæ
ìs bzscd on z rztìonz| ì qthzt hzs dccpcr roots ìn nzturz| phì|osop
þ
)
5cìcntìhccpìstcmo|o@cmcgcddìrcct|yhomnztum|phì|osophy,whìch,
ìn turn, wzs pzrt oIz comprchcnsìvc ìntc||cctuz| orìcntztìon. ruth|css
sc|I-crìtìcìsm|czvcs thchzmcoIrcIcrcnccz|ways ìndoubt, thchìstorìc
rccordrcvcz|s b||ìbì|ìty, thcp|zccoIobjcctìvcknow|cdgc, æopposmto
subjcctìvcopìnìon, ìstctcdzndcontcstcd, zndwhcnopìnìonìshc|d, it
ìsopcn to rcvìsìon through Ircc zrgumcnt.5cìcnccìssustzìncd, ìndccd
ìnstzntìztcd,byzsc|I-crìtìcz|phì|osophy, tctcd@ìnstthcìnvctìgztìoos
oInzturc. 1hcsc zrc thc dccpcst vz|ucs oIscìcncc znd thc undcr|yìog
phì|osophyguìdìngìts mcthodsznddchnìngìuzìms. Nzturcdcvoìdof
humzn vz|uc znd humzn czprìccs dcmzndcd honcstznswcrs to stzrHj
poscdgucstìons. I nshon, z|though thcscìcnccs zndthchumznìtìcsput·
sucdìhcrcntobjcctsoIìnguìq, mcysupponæchothcr ìn common pu

posc znd shzrc thcszmcsc|I-crìtìcz| zttìtudc. And bcyond thìs kìnshìp.
wchndomcrzspcctsthzt|ìnkthcm.
1hcrìscoIscìcncchc|pcdpzvcthcwzymrsccu|zrìsm`strìumph
ao
q
thcændznqoI|ìbcm|po|ìtìcz|socìctìc.A dìscusscd ìnchzptcr l ,
t
h
r
va|ucsztthcIoundztìonsoIscìcntìhcìnguìqzrcohcnztoddswìth
th¤
sr
oIrc|ìgìonìsu. In pznìcu|zr, scìcntìsu ìnstzntìztcdz mtìonz|ìtyth
zth+
q
bccomcztoo|Ioropcn-cndcdìnguìq,wìthzmodcoItmth-scckìn
gth+|
dìstìnguìshcsìtsc|Ibyrcmsìngtobcguìdcdbyorscncznyprcdctcrm
ìo
c
q
goz|,b||ìbì|ìtyìsæsumcd, objcctìvìtyìssou@t. Ocpìtcdccpmcturc
s|
·
thìs ìdæ|ìudvìw, thcsccpìstcmìcvz|uczrcmndzmcntz|tothcsucc
c
s
¹
oIscìcncc, zndconcomìtznt|y, thcrìscoImodcrnìty. (1hcobvìous
c¤^
¸
tmstìszrgumcntdìrcctcd byz rc|ìgìous bìth thzt ìsconstrzìncdz
p
rì¤
'•
byprcsupposìtìonsdccmcdìmmuncìnzdvzncctogucstìonìng.)
NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTMSM
Th
e
confict is clearly illustrated by the reception of Dari n' s On
the O
r
gn ofSpeces, publ ished in 1 859, which sparked a crisis over reli­
gi
ous b
elief and metaphysic based on the divine. This turbulent theatre
o
f contention drew distinct battle li nes beteen various ki nds of religion­
i
st
s an
d
secularists. In the United States stalwan promoters of secularism
(l ike
Roben Ingersoll and Cornell's founding president, Adrew Dickson
W
ite
[Feldman 2005] ) denounced religion as an ofense against science.
Da
r
in
's prescient early journal musi ngs Ouly 1 , 1 838) soon became
c
om
monplace sentiments: "Origin of man now proved.-Metaphysic
must fourish.-He who understands baboon <wi l l > would do more
to
ward metaphysics than Locke. " ( 1 987, 84e, p. 539) . And even before
011 the Orgn ofSpeces, Weell could assen with arrogant confdence,
"
Man is the i nterpreter ofNature, Science the right interpretation" ( 1 840,
xii) . He was undoubtedly echoing the opening inspir

tional (and wish­
f
u
l ) aphorism of Bacon' s Novum Oranon, which three hundred years
later had become a confdent summation of science's actual achievement,
or at least so Wewell thought. And by that assenion, he meant specif­
cally the fndings obtained by a radical objectivity guided by positivist
p
ri nciples of inquir. (Cosslett [ 1 984] ofers a rich compendium of the
ni neteenth-centur debate. )
Thus the drama was not limited to evolutionar science per se, that
is, Dari n' s theor of common descent, but about the metaphysics i n
which Dari nism functioned. The Darinians argued that science's
u
nderstanding of the universe and our place in it may or may not include
a
divine presence; put another way, God is besides the point. More than
j ust rejecting religious doctrine, Dari nism assened its own metaphysica
picture in contrast to it, namely, a stark, materialistic universe with no
telos.
S
uch a view leaves to humans the chore of defning signifcance and
m
eaning within a human construct. Imposing a secondar layer of divine
i
nt
erpr
etation upon those fndings does not warrant confating to ways
of
know
ing. Each has its place and, therein, its authority.
Ho
w to achieve pluralistic balance l ies at the base of the confict
b
e
t
een secularism and rel igious ideology. Whatever triumph science
m
i
g
ht
cla
im, the various alternatives to knowi ng have hardly lost their
a
p
p
eal .
In
deed, the pronouncement of science's promise is only one of
m
a
n
y
chapters of dispute that characterize the battle beteen science
a
n
d r
eligion as competing worldviews. From Gal ileo to current debate
a
b
o
ut
intelligent design, the character of truth remains hotly contested.
7
0 SCI ENCE AND TE QUET FOR MENING
If science were regarded simply as a tool for technological advancem
e
n
t
or master of nature, the debate would have been quelled, but all un
d
er­
stood that much more was at stake.
From divergent positions intractable argument ensued. Aer all ,
th
e
answers science provided were hardly neutral i nasmuch as the secul
ar
ist
s
regarded investigative fndings with one set of lenses, while the relig
io
n
­
ists peered through another. Indeed, both panies violated the borders
@
the sought to bolster their respective programs. Theoreticly, a stri
ctly
neutral science would posture i tself towards neither camp, but g
ive
n
i ts historical and cultural afnity with the humanist tradition, scie
n
ce
bece a powerfl i nstrment of humanist philosophy. Moreover, since
neutral i ty was never a viable option, science found i tself caught in the
crossfre of an ideological war that has been waged for over fve centuries.
And no wonder, for no less than the "Truth" was at stake.
Nineteenth-centur seculariztion signaled God's fnher retret from
the everday world of common experience and activities and also high­
lighted a major realignment of social hierchie and the rationale for ne
politic structures. Science panook in this social revolution in at leas
t
three ways: ( 1 ) the technolog baed on scientifc discoverie revolution­
i the material culture, reealing mysterious forces and eents as natur
and thereby open to human understanding; (2) this naturalized world­
view made divine interention increasingly peripherl to human under­
standing; and (3) the logic and standards of knowledge a applied to the
natural world were extended to the social and psychologic domai ns of
human experience, thereby rationalizing a redistribution of power and
authority fom monarchial and eccleiastic center to libera institut
ions.
These developments revised God's status, and a God's place in the u
ni­
verse shifed, so did humankind's. Here, the converence of other cultu
ra
frce combined in the eventual triumph of secularism: the relignment
of
authority, the autonomy of the individual, the claims for individuali
t. t
he
rise of fee agenc. (And, of coure, strong argment have been made ß
I0
how post-Rformation Protetantism also contributed to the rise of
m
o
d
­
ern scientifc epistemolog [Harrison 1 998] .) The success of the po
siti
vist
program fnhered the cuse by demonstrting how a more rigrous
ob
jec
­
tivity, which had replaced inti macies of the hean with a diferent lo
gi
c
and a diferent understanding of the world could master nature. So
, ß
r
he
objective eye achieved primacy, science increingly becme the adjudic·
tor of true knowledge.
NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVSM
71
The perasive philsoph of science is inextricable from the political
s
h
i
f
resulting from the rise of secularism. In a cascde, ( I ) the empiricist
m
ea
sures rational discourse against a natural object that "speaks" back
r
o
th
e
in
dividual obserer; (2) private reports assume a new position as
i
n
dep
endent sources of knowledge; (3) autonomous reports require pub­
l i
c confrmation, and thus objectivity attains a new standing as commu­
na
l
witnessing replaces private inspiration and insight as the fnal j udge
of tr
uth
claims. Certainly by the end of the nineteenth centur, science
a
nd
se
cularism were closely asociated in their combined attacks against
fol k psychology, superstition, and rel igious revelation, each of which
WJ
rep
laced with a diferent way of reaoning (Chadwick l º75, Wilson
|
77
9
I
Scientifc knowledge thus sought to displace opinion in every
real m of inquir, including, of course, the human sciences. It is here we
appre
ci
ate positivism's most general appeal.
Te Hua Science
P
o
sitivism a an ideal philosophy of science also found application in the
h
u
man sciences. Note how John Mer in his infuential (and magisterial)
revi
e
w of ni neteenth-centur thought summarized the situation at the
end of the centur:
Clearly, besides the abstract sciences, which profess to introduce us to the
general relations or laws which govern everthing that is or can be real,
there must be those sciences which study the actualy existing forms as
distinguished from the possible one, and "here" and "there", the "where"
and "how", of things and processes, which look upon rea things not as
examples of the gener and universa, but as aone possessed of that mys­
terious something which distinguishes the real and actual from the pos­
sible and artifcial . These sciences are the truly descriptive sciences, in
opposition to the abstract ones. They are indeed older than the abstract
scie
nces, and they have, in the course of the period under reie in this
work, made quite a much progress a the purely abstract sciences. In a
manner, though perhaps hardly a pwerfl in their infuence on practical
pursuits, they are more popular: they occupy a larger number of students;
and inasmuch as they also comprise the study of man himself, they have
d ver
profound infuence on our latest opinions, interests, and beliefs­
i
.
e
.
,
on our inner life. ( l 8º6ll º65, vol. Z, Z0J)
72
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
These human sciences, or what we now call the social sciences, follow
e
d
the natural sciences, albeit in a more self-conscious fashion (Smith 1 9
9
7
,
2007) .
The aspiration for scientifc objectivity becme a central concern
fo
r
the social sciences when Auguste Comte proclaimed his positivist i
de
as
in the 1 820s (Comte 1 825/ 1 974) . The enthusiasts argued that scienti
f
c
methods were applicable to all domai ns of human need and asened
s
ci­
entism as representing the best way to constrct a worldvie (albeit
uto­
pian) from one end of human experience to another-defning reality
and comprehensively characterizing human psychology and sociolog
.
(That ideolog continues to have infuence. For an Cple, see Wilso
n
1 998. ) I ronically, scientism aped its ersthile opponent, religion, itself
becoming a new religion, a new way of understanding nerthing, and i
n
its unbridled enthusiasm, it threatened the entire scientifc endeavor.
In the German context, "neutrality" sered a the means of protect­
ing the autonomy of the new science of society. And neutralit meant
that "human val ues" -encompassing the entire spectrum of poli tical,
personal, religious belief and commitments-would not enter the analy­
sis. Accordingly, science required dispassionate, neutral obseration and
interpretation. Anything less would putatively bias fndings, interpreta­
tions, theories, and so on. Indeed, neutrality and objectivity went hand
in hand into the laborator. I nvestigations deemed nonneutra relativ
e
to some personal or social agenda were disqualifed a "scientifc. " Thus
"value-free" science and "neutral i ty" were regarded as, if not synony­
mous, at least closely overlapping. With this underlying motive defning
the science/nonscience boundar, the emergence of the social sciences,
more specifclly sociolog, had ready-at-hand criteria for it professi
onal
standards. A the founders of German sociolog assembled themsel
ve
s
into professional groups, the "controversy over values" bCe a cen
tral
issue. While vi rtually all agreed that identifction with the natural
sci
·
ences seemed crucial for sociolog's legitimiztion, the boundaries
of
the
discipline remained contested. The appeal of politicl i nvolvement
was
entici ng: the social sciences might be employed not only to rationalize
social policy and promote the economy, but also to maintain social orde
r
and legi timate poli tical decisions. But while some saw sociolog
as
th
e
answer to Germany's social and economic woes, others sti fly resiste
d.
Among those of the latter group were the key architects of the new
dis
ci
·
pline, most notably Ma Weber, Germany's foremost sociologist.
NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVSM
73
Weber clearly demarcated his role as scientist citizen, and thereby
s
ough
t to protect the neutral (scientifc) standing of the discipline by
self-consciously distancing it from political movements, speci fcally
socialism and Marism. This was a contentious matter, si nce proponents
of various political persuasions attempted to enlist the new social sci­
e
nces to promote their own social ideals. But Weber was war of apply­
i ng biology to research programs devoted to provi ng theories of racial
hy
giene and social Darinism. He argued that the so-called data was but
"u
nb
ounded subjective valuations" (Proctor 1 99 1 , 1 1 1 ).
I n " 'Objectivity' i n social science and social policy," Weber drew
critical distinctions beteen the natural and social sciences by emphasiz­
ing the value-laden criteria of cultural and historical evaluations. Social
science "i nvolves subjective presuppositions insofar as it concerns itself
with those components of real i ty which have some relationship, how­
e
v
er indirect, to events to what we attach cultural sigicance" (Weber
1 904/ 1 949, 82,emphasis in origi nal), and "on this signi fcance alone
rests its scientifc interest" (8 1 ) . "We cannot discover what is meaning­
fl to U by means of 'presuppositionless' investigation of empi rical data.
Rther, perception ofits meaning to us is the presupposition of its becom­
i ng an object of investigation" (76; emphasis in original ). Ay semblance
o
f
order is achieved by the winnowi ng power of value-based selection,
for "in ever cse only a pan of concrete reality is interesting and sigi­
C00î to us, because only it is related to the cultral values with which we
approach reality" (78; emphasis in origi nal ). Such i nvestigations made
under the guidance of values, which direct selection and ordering of phe­
nomena, are "entirely diferent from the analysis of real i ty in terms of
la
ws
and general concepts" (77) , and more, laws are "meani ngless" for
t
he w
ork of social scientists.
Weber advocated self-refection and self-understanding of how
i n
cip
ient values and individual perspective i nfuence i nterpretation of
empi rical evidence. Only "will and conscience, not empirical knowledge"
can
hold the scientist to the "ultimate standards" of objectivity (54). A
Ro
be
n Proctor obseres ( 1 99 1 , 1 35), Weber raised the banner of neu­
t
r
alit
agai nst the positivism of Comte and the developmental theses of
M
a
r
ism (or for that matter, any of the "ideal types" of social theor
!Web
er 1 9041 1 949, 1 061 0] ) . Weber argued that each erred in assuming
a pr
ogressive, unique, and unili near progression, the former in terms of

o
des of thought, the latter in terms of economic transformations. Both
W
rongly assumed that there is some necessar relation beteen 'what is'
74
SCIENCE AD TE QUET FOR MENING
and 'what ought to be. ' In fct, Weber argued, the moral order cnno
t
g
e
derived from the movement of histor or any other fcts of social life. [g
e
real is not the rational . . . " (Proctor 1 991 , 1 3 5). ` ´
From this neutral platform, Weber ofered a general philosophy
a|
the value quetion, one that remains cogent today. Protecting sociolo
g
'
s
insularity from various political agndas, he reponded with an anicula
re
defense of value-neutrlity for the ne discipline. A scientist might inv
ol
v
e
himself in public debate by ( 1 ) identifing the contradictions beteen g
person's values and their interests, (2) asking what empiricl means
are
required to achieve those ends, and (3) pointing out the unintended
con­
sequences of pursuing those ends:
Thee and only thee cn the scientist, qua scientist, undenc. The frst
is a quetion oflogic; the second and third quetions of empiric fc. But
whether the gals should b pursued in the frt place, Webr sy, is a
quetion no science cn anser. For "this is a question of conscienc, of
peronal commitment, and in this rem, science cnnot trd." (Proctor
1 991 , 8889)
Lter, in his infuential esay "Science a a voction" ( 1 91 9/ 1 946) , Web
e
r
shrewdly extended his espousal of neutrality for science in a bidirectiona
manner-science would not be contaminated with ideological bias and
science, in turn, would not ofer its own "objectivity" to matters of inrer­
pretation. Weber, keenly cogniznt of the precrious status of the social
sciences as science, attempted to delimit the erosion of a objective ide.
which he redily admitted W unattainable.
Today, the positivist agenda for the social sciences is no longer gen·
erally accepted (see Proctor 1 99 1 , 1 63-8 1 , for discussion), and re
vised
notions of how the social sciences might be based on discover of the
i r
own generl laws perist as a centrl theoretical concern. One strt
e
g
is
to vie such an inquir as falling on a continuum of scientifc expla
na·
tion, where a more relaed view of laws from that espoused in the nat
ura
l
sciences might sufce (e.g. , Kincid 1 990) . This line of argument
o
f
e
n
leads to a suggestion that a new kind of science is required, which
the
n
seres a a loose rationale for many programs that do not even attemp
t
t
o
cloak their eforts in the garments of scientifc legitimac. This ad
missi
o
n
weakens the entire edifce, prompting some critic like Le Mcintyre
t
o
maintain a stauncher stance ( 1 993, 2006) . However, for our purp
ose
s.
the issue is not so much the conceptual basis of the social sciences an
d
t
h
e
quest for some frm scientifc principles which might guide social
p
o
li
C'·
NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTMSM
75
b
u
t
ra
th
er the ever-present challenge of even understanding that agenda.
g g
t
he
following chapters we will examine several aspects of this gen­
·
:s|
p
ro
blem, directing our attention, frst to the demise of the positivist
.á:s| .
and
then tracki ng the development of a revisionist philosophy­
_g¿
deci
dely less ambitious and more circumspect of its goals.
The Fall of Positivism
.
:
×
�•• ·r\ �

-. · ·
´ · · . `· ·
.
r
l0lm]par I d, qu by¡þsiot, b�lie��io¡þsualeb)msaodoetioHemoì gede
. . 8111 in peiote)gut�egcal)enogtb�¡þsualeb)msaodtb�geddy oeoq
ioq��aodoetiokiod
W. V. 0. Quine, "Two dogmas of empiricism"
Duri ng the last centur, global characteriztions of science fell into three
�oneral groupi ngs. The frst cluster concerned itself with the placement of
• (i on
ce w
ithin a general philosophical context, which meant interpreting
t h
o
m
ethods, products, and intellectual structure of science as part of a
'"m
p
re
hen
s
i
v
e epistemolog. Most prominently articulated by Edmund
l l u
sse
r
l
, Whi tehead, Heidegger, and John Dewey, cri ti cal themes
• re
r
g
ed about how science framed the modern world in ever aspect of
hum
an exp
erience and how that presentation distorted or imperial isti­

JI I y
trum
pe
d other forms of kowing. For convenience (and for reasons
t lJ
J
t wi ll become apparent in the conclusion) , I will refer to these diverse

h
J
r
ac
t
e
r
i
~tions as "agent-centered. " The second set, largely domi nated
��
th
e
lo
gic
al p
ositivists of the Vienna Circle but including earlier work
Pi e
r
re Duhem and Henri Poincare, regarded science analytically by
" 1 t

m
pt
i
n
g to
formal ize the nature of obseration, theor construction,

t
h
e b
asi s of truth claims. They promoted the scientifc enterprise
\
\
e
n
t
h
u
s
i
asti
cally building on the foundations establ ished by Comte,
e
w
ell ,
and John Stuart Mill. Of the to approaches, at least i n the
SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
Anglo American community, the success of the positivist movement
@
self-evident by mid-tentieth centur when Ma Horkeimer (a fou
nd
er
of the Frankfrt School , and thus a Marist in his orientation) op
in
e
d
­
firly, I think:
Today there is almost general agreement that society ha lost nothing by
the decline of philosophical thinking, for a much more pwerfl instru­
ment of knowledge has taken its place, namely, modern scientifc thought.
It is ofen said that all the problems that philosophy ha tried to solve are
either meaningless or cn be solved by modern experimental methods. In
fact, one of the dominant trends i n modern philosophy is to hand over
to science the work lef undone by traditional speculation. Such a trend
toward the hypostatiztion of science characterizs all the schools today
called positivist. ( l º47lZ004,40)
Those who resisted posi tivi sm' s advance or doubted i ts promis
es
were characterized as sufering from "a failure of nere" (Horkheimer
l º47l2004,40) , and when Husserl lamented that "positivism, in a man­
ner of speaki ng, decapitates philosophy" (l º35l l º70, º) , he obviously
was referring to a diferent species of philosophy.
A diferent as these divergent approaches might be, the to con­
tenders held in common a basic precept, for each assembly of critiques
i mpl icitly accepted that science claimed for itself a special form of reason
and knowledge acquisition. A diferent, thi rd major course in characteriz­
ing science appeared in the last four decdes of the tentieth centur, one
that radically disputed this ver claim and thereby rejected the unique
status of science. Led by Kuhn, Feyerabend, and like-minded sociologi­
clly oriented critics, the adherents of this group believed that the prac­
tice of science and the production of knowledge followed a pragmatic
course directed by unacknowledged social, politic, economic, and
cul­
tural infuences. Accordingly, they declared the positivists' formaliztion
project moribund. These later thinkers summarily rejected those asp
ira
·
tions and thei r various accompaniments as sufering irredeemable fa
ws.
not ostensibly as pan of a necromantic awakening, but rather a pa
n
o
f
another agenda altogether. For simplicity, let us cl it "postpositiv
is
r. "
Takng three nodal positions-agent-centered, positivist, and postp
os
i
·
tivist-for orientation, this chapter examines the basis for the last of th
ese
positions.
To announce that we l ive i n a postpositivist era hardly draws att
e

tion, but what such a declaration ponends remains a beguiling issu
e. A
t
THE FALL OF POSITIVI SM
7
9
le
a
st
if
scie
nce in its positivist mode has been "democratized, " then a new
p
ol
itical

rder has assumed primacy. Hav
.
ing dictated
.
for ove

a centur
t
he
critena of true knowledge, the promase of matenal utopaa, and the
j
ustif
ca
tion for belief in a rational secularism, science now must ofer its
k
no
wledge as fll ible, its material product as potentially dangerous, and
i t
s
sec
ular ideal ism as inadequate to address the resurgent fndamental­
i
s
ms of
our age. A new understanding replaced positivism, and with the
as
ce
n
sion
of the postpositivist contender, we must both acknowledge that
change and understand how it alters vinually everthing else.
This
chapter sureys the rise of a radically diferent view of science. It
doe
s so
with an eye on the status of the fact/value distinction as a guiding
framework for understanding the shifing meani ngs of objectivi ty and
t
h
e related problem of constructivism. The discussion probes a specifc
q
u
estion that has appeared again and again in diferent formats as philos­
o
p
h
ers, historians, and sociologists of science grapple with the problem of
how to depict science from their respective points of view: how do facts
and values relate to each other in the context of characterizing the epis­
temolog and social activity we cl "science"? The spectrum of this mat­
ter spans the character of objectivity to the subjectivity of the knowing
agent and invokes debates about the social construction of knowledge,
th
e strictures of language, and the boundaries of science in its political ,
social , and economic environments. These issues lie at the foundation of
science's truth claims and the process by which claims are made.
According to the revisionist approach, science was not entitled to any
s
pecial claims based on some rigorous rationali ty. Its li nguistic structure
and strictures were as restrictive as any other cognitive activity. Most dam­
aging to the underlying ideal ism of a logical rational ity was the resulting
relativism that seemed to undermine science's authori ty. In short, the
demarction problem shifed from the problem of disti nguishing science
f
ro
m
nonscience to one that considered how the new sociolog of scien­
ti fc
knowledge difsed, or even elimi nated, such diferentiations. While
th
e his
tory of this transition is highly convoluted and combi nes many
tri
bu
tar
ies of thought, this project gained momentum from to semi nal
W
o
rk
published essentially at the same time: Kuhn's Stctre ofScientfc
l1ve
stig
aton ( l º62)and Polanyi 's Peronal Knowldge (frst appearing in
1 958 and revised in l º62). We begin with the latter.
8O
Sci ENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
Polay: Peronag Kowed
Wether posed as the confict of science and religion, as the comp
eti
ng
claims of disjointed subjective and objective realms of experience, a
th
e
character of human nature and the status of the emotions, or a the
mor
a
standing of nature, a humanistic interpretation of an objective worldvi
e
remains a peraive challenge for modernity. By ting together the vari
­
ous strands of this abiding tension, Polanyi ofered a cogent preentatio
n
of this dilemma just as the positivist crest was about to crash. Peronal
Knowldge begins with the bald assenion, "I stan by rejecting the idea
l
of scientifc detachment" (Polanyi 1 962, vii) , and proceed by analying
the word "kowing" to show that its connotations refer to many level
s
of understandi ng. Impersonal , "objective" kowledge is only one kind
apired to, but even this ctegor, according to Polanyi, is a concit, and
a limiting one at that. His argument attacked the positivists' position
esentially fom within the strictures of their own logic (which was, inci­
dentally, ver diferent from the strategy that Kuhn employed) . I will
only highlight cenain aspects.
Much of Polanyi 's critique concerned the logical ftility of estab­
lishing any fxed framework that could critically test the positivist pro­
gram. In other words, the positivists ofered no perspective from which
their own aioms might be examined critically. Specifcally, we cannot
escape our own perspective, the personal assessment that is intrinsic l0
any knowing. Si mply put, Polanyi regarded the positivist view of sci ­
ence's logic a too narrow. He, like Husser) and Nietche, saw "rationa­
it" as a broader ctegor than the criterion of objectivity construed in
ª
narrow sense. He obsered:
the act of knowing includes an appraisal; and this personal coefcient,
which shapes all fctual knowledge, bridges in doing so the disjunction
beteen subjectivity and objectivity. It implies the claim that man can
transcend his own subjectivity by striving passionately to flfll his per­
sonal obligtions to universal standards. (Polanyi l 962, l 7)
Polanyi explicitly discounted subjectivism and substituted perso
nal. I
n
this fshion, he still aspired to objectivi ty's ostensible goals. Th
is
*
ª·
not an either/or choice, for Polanyi would simply broaden the
cog
n
i
­
tive ctegor of"objectivity" to include those mental fcultie whic
h
p
l
a
y
in the realm of discover and cannot, in any formal fashion be f
n
a
l
­
ized in logical format. He also explicitly recognized the "legiti ma
c
q
'
pre-theoretical experience- which is not the same a rndom sub
jc
~
l
i
`
THE fALL OF POSITIV
ISM
i
r
! "
(
Han
sen l 990, l 4) He called this broadened realm of knowing
th
e
"
t
a
cit
dim
ension" (Polanyi l 966) ,and in that domain the fll panoply
o
f
k
n
o
wing
-aesthetic sensibil ity, probabilistic j u
dgment, i n
tuition, meta­
p
h
oric
e
xtension, and the likeomes into play. Briefy, P
olanyi argue
d
t
h
a
t
we
see the world through diferent cognitive lenses, each of whi
ch
h
a
s a
p
art to play in scientifc discovery. In stil l ofering an objectiv
e
vi si
on
of the world mediated by the active perso
n i n his or
her various
k
n
o
wing modalities, Polanyi resurrected the deeper
metaph
yicl goals of
science. He would employ objectivity æ a humane tool :
Objectivity . . . does not require that we see ourselves as a mere grain of
sand in a million Saharas. It inspires U¡ on the contrar, with the hope
of overcoming the appalling disabilities of our bodily existence, even to
the point of conceiving a rational idea of the universe which can authori­
tatively speak for itself It is not a counsel of self-efcement, but the ver
reverse-a cal to the Pygmalion in the mind of man. ( Polanyi l 962,5)
For Polanyi, science is a passion, which, despite its apparent austerity and
aloofness, must refect a deeply persona way of viewing the world:
[ P)ersonal knowledge in science is not made but discovered, and as such
it clai ms to establish contact with reality beyond the cl ues on which it
rel ies. I t commits us, passionately and far beyond our comprehension,
to a vision of reality. Of this responsibility we cnnot divest ourselves by
setting up objective criteria of verifability-r falsifability, or testability,
or what you will. For we live in it as in the garment of our own skin. Like
love, to which it is aki n, this commitment is a "shin of fame," blazing
with passion and, also like love, consumed by devotion to a universal
demand. Such is the true sense of objectivity in science . . . the discover
of rationality in nature, a name which was meant to say that the kind of
order which the discoverer claims to see in nature goes far beyond his
understanding. ( l 962, 6)
E
cho
es of pre-Socratic lgos, the Reason that underlies reaity and governs
al l
physi
c and orgnic nature, may be herd in Polanyi's almost religious
t
est
am
ent. War of becoming ensnared in the confnes of restricted theor

di s
cip
lines of thought and, more importantly perhaps, limiting scien­
ti f
c m
ethod to only a narrow wedge of experience and modes of knowing,
P
olany
i th
ought that the scientist should again visit the dilemma of what
'

arr
ants
inclusion in the scientifc domai n. The problem of integrating
d
t
fere
nt
layers of reality coupled to the endeavor of widening the scope
of i
nv
es
tigation would then become a challenge of devisi ng i ncl usive
SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENI NG
cognitive criteria that would loosen the strictures encing notions
of s
ci ­
ence held by his contemporaries.
Polanyi did not revive subjectivism, but rather espoused sub
jectiv­
it's recognized rle in scientifc discover and theor formation. Inste
ad
of denying the selective process of obseration and the i nterpretativ
e
character of scientifc investigtion, Polanyi embraced them. Thu
s
"
p
er
­
sonal knowledge," became a catchall for the necessar, creative ele
me
n
t
s
that cannot be accounted for in the positivist rendi tion of science. For
Polanyi, objectivity is intrinsicaly coupled to notions of subjectivity: o
ne
cnnot speak of objectivity without at least i mplicit reference to its coun­
terpart. Said diferently, the subjective ha been recst. This perspective is
hardly novel, nor restricted to an eccentric. For example, Lewis Wolp
ert
and Alison Rchards (l ºº7) have amply documented (again) amo
n
g
3
diverse group of practicing scientists how subjectivity is at play in a
n
y
assessment-whether wonder, curiosity, passion, pleasure, disappoi nr­
ment, competitiveness, aesthetic appreciation, and so on. This spectrum
of emotions appears in the scientist's everday work-from postulati ng
ne experiments to their fnal public j udgment-and, despite the posi­
tivists' valiant attempt to formal ize scientifc discover or veri fcation.
these "contaminating" subjective elements require an accounting.
Polanyi's project expands postpositivism into reams vacted by objec
­
tifing positivism. Accordingly, scientifc fndi ngs alone are insufc
i
ent
for determining signifcance, and thus i nterpretation is required. I ndeed.
this insight has a long histor. Raw knowledge, a fact, is essentially
RC3ß·
ingles. Wat is the signifcance of a scientifc fact or larger theor unle
ss
we may apply it to human understanding? "Understanding" entails m
an�
layers of interpretation, and here we see the linkage to recent construc
tiv­
ist arguments. Science infuences its supporting culture, the val u
es t
hat
govern i ts use, and, ulti mately, the sense of meaning and signi f
cann
ascribed to the scientifc portrait of the world. Polanyi thus recog
n
ized.
as di d an entire generation following hi m, that scientifc kowl
ed
g
e
`'`
ultimately human centered in at least to senses.
First, Polanyi focused on the scientist as a unique knower.
H
e
·
|�
ci fflly emphasized the j udgmental and i nterpretative aspects
of
·
-'·ª
ti f
c
thi nki ng, which could not be adequately accounted for
»r·º�,
pres
cribed log
ic of scientifc discover. The creativity
of the sc
i
e
nU1 ' ·
i magi nation rested on many faculties, some "tacit"
and thus burie
d
. ·º"

`
i mpl ic
i
t and
thus undec
l
a
r
ed, and still others considered
subv
er
·
i

THE FALL oF PosiTIVI SM
s
cien
c
e
as normally understood (e.g. , aesthetic j udgment) and thus even
m
or
e s
ubtly operative. But he chastened those who denied their cogni­
ti
ve con
trib
utions. In other words, the simple inductive model-data in,
co
nc
lu
sio
ns out-ould not capture the scientifc process at the level of
th
e in
dividual scientist creating and i nterpreting her research.
Polanyi sought to bring the persona i nto the domain of science, or
we m
ight say, he endeavored to broaden scientifc thi nking to i nclude
the
pers
onal , without the radica de-legitimiztion of science itself. This
was
Web
er's strateg (abeit undeveloped) , and it has had a rich histor,
b
oth
in assessing the i ntersection of art and science and i n attempting
to d
eciphe
r the cognitive or, more broadly, the psycholog of scientifc
c
r
eativi ty. To be sure, a new movement in cognitive psychology has
gi v
en strong i mpetus to this i ntuition by describing mul tiple forms of
"emot i onal intell igence. " Accordi ngly, beyond IQ, i t appears that the
su
cc
essfl ability to navigate the world aso depends on such measurable
qual i ties as social sensitivities and self-awareness; self-control and self­
p
r
oj ecti on; motivation and empathy. Such acumen contributes to the
a
bi l i ty of efectively applyi ng analytical aptitude and the other multiple
di mensions of cognition (Nussbaum 2001 ) .
B
y
emphasizing what had heretofore been referred to as emotional
c
h
a
r
acteristics, Polanyi presciently identifed and promoted fculties of
knowi n
g
that have become key issues in contemporar cognitive psychol­
o
g.

I n the scientifc setting, intelligence is tyicaly regarded as a para­
mou
n
t co
g
nitive vi rtue, yet we might well ask, what kind of inteligencr
Lndoubtedly, anaytic abilit and its various cohorts are crucia for suc­
.�.
·
but efectiveness also require j udgments that are emotionaly based,
or
at
least inspired. ¯ Emotions color evaluations based on the context of
|hei
r
exp
ression, the web of belief in which they are situated, and these
d�m
e
nr
s
, as Polanyi hi msel f obsered, typically remain tacit (Polanyi
1 ?66) . I ndeed, Quine noted that j ustifction for theor choice or deter­
�n•
na
r
i o
n of
relevant i nformation entails a selection rarely understood
¸
a
n
y
r
i
g
orous "rationa" fashion (Quine 1 953a/ 1 961 / 1 980; discussed
� ··�·
This
suggests that emotions can render i nformation sal ient,
l l �ahh
n
g
sel
ecti
on of some and thereby weaning the overhelming infux

h
e
r
est
(
de
Sousa 1 987) . The theme that
evauation of epistemic j udg
­
¸ �¸·
·
r
e
veals the paricipation of extrarationa subjectivity extends
for
c
e
­
' V fr
o
m
'
ª
'
¤ ¤
f h
I
ª
f
¤ ¤ ¤
K h
d f
¸ •
i
:
n
_
u
m
e s crmque o t e ogtc o posmvtsm, to u n s stu Y. o
I
t
t f
c
r
e
v
ol
uti
ons to Ronald de Sousa's
T
he
µ:i»»atiµ
-
//¬-··-º
'>
H
7
)
.
'
SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENI NG
Because of the holistic character of decision and belief formation
we must also factor in the role of emotion as a cognitive faculty
in
fll�
ing gps in reason and perception (Hookway 2002, 259). Such patter
n
s
of salience that emotional processing provides can then fnction
"
as
'a source of reasons, ' as something that comes ' bere reasons' "
(260) .
Thus, while some emphasize the aesthetic infuences on decision ma
i n
g
(Tauber 1 996b) , de Sousa perceives that emotion more generaly
estab­
lishes patterns of relevance among objects of attention and i nfer
e
n
ti
al
strategies. Others pose the balance more abstractly as a complex mixture
of "informed intuition based on emotional coherence" (Thagrd 2000)
.
However relevance is establ ished or balance attained, al commentators
are seekng the means by which the multiple elements of cognitio
n
are
assimilated and action prioritized. Herein l ies the central point: coher­
ence of thought requi res the integration of al those elements that go i
n
to
thinkng-traditionally conceived rationality and emotion (the latter of
which is all too ofen understood as "i rrational ").
To separate scientifc rational i ty from other components of intel
­
l igence as some disti nct and i ndependent abil i ty distorts the process.
for thinki ng in all of i ts various formats requi res emotiona j udgment.
Our web of belief (discussed below) is diverse (Nelson 1 990) , and anv
representation has attached to it an "emotional valance" (Bower 1 98 1 )
that must be factored into the calculus of j udgment. Wile coheren
c
e
has been formalized (Thagard 2000) , it seems plain that at this level
o
f
intuitive emotional content, quantitative designations are highly impr
o

able. Nevertheless, appreciati ng that emotion plays i ts own role in
t
h
e
objectivity of scientifc research sugests that the unifed reason we
see
k
already resides in the ongoing project of understanding how integrati
on
of various facul ties of knowi ng might comprise a more compreh
en
siv
theor of reason. Perhaps more to the point, that quest seems j ustif
ed o
n
the merits of understanding the scientifc process in it fll employm
ent
.
This perspective has a venerable histor. Before Polanyi, Kant
¤
es|ç·
nated "j udgment," Goethe perceived the archetype (Tauber 1 993)
ªºº
Nietzche championed "art" in thei r respective attempts to characr
eri zt
the complex interplay of analytical and emotional fculties that resul t
| »
achieving insight. Each argued for the aesthetic fculty a accountin
g
for
a critical component of human intelligence (Tauber 1 996b) , wh
ile
c
o
n
·
t
e
mporar commentators have emphasizd broader cteories of
con
si
d
e

l
nd
a
tlo
n
. n any ce, we may draw a direct line from Goethe to
Pol
a
ny
a
ª
THE FALL OF PosiTIVISM
b
ey
on
d: human imagi nation exercised i n its various modalities is linked by
di
vers
e forms of human creativity. Afer all, the line separating objectivity
fr
om
subjectivity is highly dynamic, historically contextualized, and con­
t
i n
uously
contested. The romantics placed this problem font and center,
w
heth
er ad
dressed in philosophy, poetr, or psycholog. Cernly, how to
i n
teg
rate
diferent kinds of intelligence refected the deeper metaphysic
i ssue
of how to make the world wholewhole in the sense of placing the
i
nd
i
vidua
l in the world, as opposed to peering at it as a spectator. Polanyi
re
adily
falls i nto this tradition because for him, the scientifc endeavor
oH
_

a w
orldview that not only supplements other ways of knowing, but
does
so
as a result of drawing upon those sources.
Personal meaning is the union of objective knowledge and subjec­
t
ive modalities of various kinds. The scientifc project has expanded the
reaches of time and space, the complexity of the natural world, the order
of natural processes, and the evolution of nature. And each domai n of
i nqui r has ofered a picture of the world in which a systematic study
provides not only factual knowledge but also a world that must be inter­
preted and integrated into a personal worldview, one flled with mean­
i ng and signifcation. Interpretation origi nates i n the same metaphysical
won
d
er that stimulates scientifc inquir in the frst place. On this view,
not only is some portion of the scientifc enterprise beholden to subjective
el ements, an emotional motivation rests at the base of the entire enter­
pri se. Therefore, beyond the aesthetic components at play in scientifc
j udgment, the analytic and logical skills of the scientist ultimately sere
some existential fnction as wel l . Although such psychological factors
a
r
e r
a
rely discussed, they remain i nsistently present, albeit largely unac­
co
u
nted for in our comprehension of scientifc reasoning (e.g. , Maslow
1 966; Faust l º84,Root-Bernstein l º8º).
Kun: Rising te Lid of Pador's Box
Pri or
to
l 960,what passed for philosophy and histor of science we now
r�
c
all
-
º the Standrd View. In large measure a hagiography of "scien­
t
i
fc
m
ethod, " "scientifc rational i ty," "scientifc objectivity, " and "sci­
en
t
i
fc
pr
ogress, " the Standard View portrayed science as logical i n i ts
or
d
e
re
d
defnition of the real . D
espite the positivists' best eforts, when
e
a
c
h
o
f th
ese
categories was placed under a critical lens, it was found
to
f
a
i
l their
own cognitive standards. Indeed, "the idolatry" (Zammito
86 SCIENCE ÆDT QuæFR MEING
2004, 52) oIw|ea±ææWmmoeoIkaowag,pmtµ¿g
w|I<tmt|agmechaa|smsmmmædb|æ,shattemopa
cri
ti-
c qpm.Themost±|ebmtæoIthwwtkW Koha's
5
m
re
ofStf Rln (1 962, 1970), w|chmoæm æy othetwa:¦
cnpp|mmew|eat|smoImeem.
lma|m|y,
5
mnot|g yqpæoaeoImm |oages ys
in the |og|m| pos|t|v|sts' ptojectFounton ofrhr Unit of 5ciµ_¸
ÏwmmΤm mmEnmplofUnif &, wow
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eite
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mo|
ps|dv|sm,thatæw|eaæm|gtmoa|6moadeton|wmprcple.3
Temmw|eaæ,oIæom,æmæmoe|soImmm|@.ad
me|mayoIKoha'sw±|saotoa|ythat
5
mnappoadetmo.
amp|æ,botmat|tW |aæqmqpathedm|ypmapsbw
(
:,
|nmmeæm, m oa|vem||ætheso|o|ogoIsc|eamcmew|wg:.
dm|tw|thootæt|c|pat|agthem|two|dhaw|aoadetm|aing
r
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lIFo|aay|bo||tamm(à bTomo),Kohaemamion. ß¡
m|m|ycm|eagagmeaodoaoIw|ea±pm g|ammeµ:..
mt|oadBh|oa,Khamt|atodoobttheveq|@cædobjmv|qof sci­
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prh apmoooIæaßadagxea±'sdm|dmæp|mt|oasw
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cien
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æadwc|agby|umdoadæmtmmædad|~|ag|usU mm¤]'
mmeoabt|d|mobjmq. lammt|oa,Kohama|am|amthat
scien­
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hop|m |ywamþowmæd|mtæoagt|uvmiom|ate
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doas(Mætem1970)-rrnt mptoa|<aqtoa|h¤
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haadthæq,thegodot|acæmeawdaagoIw|ch="'''
a
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tive, Û"•
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a:+.8 ardy a¦m,þc
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rdi•1�
mdependent t:am¡µ
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THE FALor PosiSM
qq|
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be
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¿
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bse
nattheeadoIthee|gtuath±atµ.
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hep|ctoæKpmy|mtoæ|aæawh|stot|mp|omdon
¤
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sp
c|hcmwæoIx|eamcdaag,8m8 themoægaempmb
lem
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m|ngx|eamcddopment. Ft|otm
5
m n, mem
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phypmmotm8 s|mp|enomat|vev|~.Them m 0m
MemloIthee|gtunth±atoqpn|sm|atothemendeth±ntµ|n
r
hc
wotkoIGægSanoa,woma|awnedmatsc|en±æwæby
µt|onæ yW methos, mmngthe on|qædændno|qoIko-
ed
ge
. ladepadentoImpmomædhmt|mændngadm,xea±
W8 g
tdm8 pq|ng8 |tdvem theKWot|d (Km
l 987).Te&mmgMæl 6ntadwtæattheeadoIthee|g-
txod±atoq,emphæmthesoddenmoIth|mag|na@mþ
the Sc|eat|hcko|odoa|naogmþßn,Gdæ,ædCpmæ
(0euemdd1957. wtmtæ|odoawædæat|nommm|sopn
te|otcqæt|oa(e.g.,Shap|n 1996; Chea 1994). botmmxen±d|d
|add
d
aadegam|m|methoo|og|m|ædmemphµ|m|m|nthe
s|xtænm±atoq|sgaemadoç(e.g.,kµ1957). Wethet
gtewotæ|odon,æoIthww~gx|ea±8 æ at|d|y
pteg|agwm|uO s oImdoad|aqm,m g|umæ-
d
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te todmmDÖ objmy.
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88 SCIENCE ÆOTE QuæFOR MEING
Kaba cbaaged tbe Itame oIteIeteace. 5mrmrc bæed |ts
t
ad|·
m| |aIeteaces homas|mp|eobsenat|oa. sc|eat|hcmemoq|s sþ
µ
;
¡¸
Tbedepæc|at|oaoIb|stot|m|mct|sdup|y,ædptobab|ymact|
oa
d|j,
|ag|aed|atbe|dæ|ogoItbesc|eat|hcptoIm |oa,tbemepto|es-
s|oatbatp|aætbeb|gmtoIæ w|omoamctoa|dmoIotbet
5D
OS
(Koha 1 970, 138).Th|s|mpmat|as|gtgaemtmat|mtmo|dg¸
TbehntW tbemadameawqomt|oaoIbowædwbyw|ea±
Pres
w|thoatse|I-coasc|oasam oI|uown metbo. Tbeseæad~aad
t

oneKobah|m|Iaad|atettbeeadæd|sc|p||ae,ponom¬aot
oeá
tbemteatto wb|cb sc|ea±m|gtbecbamctet|udbysome b|st
ot|cal
æI-æ8m|veam .TbehntMoIqamt|oaswoo|d|nmmæetç@
asbæowmpawtotbewadM.
Atd|agtoKoha,tbepmct|c|agmoemw|eat|stbæ||tt|e,dµj,
hutot|m|æasc|omam ,mætbemoæb|stot|mdem||,wbetbete|
x|ea±'spmatot|upæt,otw|agmpas|b|||qtoaueadtotbeh|s·
tot|m|dem||sptmeatmmmth|g||gt|agbU |d|oqacm,ettet,
aad coams|oa. Wy d|ga|qwbat sc|eace's bmtand mostpets|5te0t
mmbavemade|tpæ|b|etodd?TbeWtpmvmæembæs·
meat.Howet, opact|dm|mnat|oa,tbeb|stoqoIxea±m||·
|tmao|ogm|,pmgm |veto|eotmetho.lastm|t~o|vmby,w
g
at
apphom|atetpnpt|vmæ,æavo|s|ve,saddeat~o|ot|oast
g
at
C hatd|ymaooatmhtbyas|mp|eam t|vethatdmct|b|
q
cte-
meata|,stepw|se, æa±ptoa|cbaagmgovemedbysome|ndepeadeat.
Womt|oaa||q.
lnpam||e|,pb||opbyoIsc|ea±W |tæ|~ttotbepmt|c|ags
c

eat|st(Koba 1970, 86). Am|agy,oa|y|act|s|spt|ooIæo|at|e»
woo|dsc|eat|su smkootthe to|maadæompt|oasoItbe|twotk. | »
"aotma|sc|ea±," tbetmcb ed|h±smadssmb|e,ædsc|eat|hc
se
lf­
æasc|omam |saotma|mædtbmaotmogt. (5mndf
rnti­
atm"aotma|"sc|ea±,weætbeæ|spq|aæammo|advemh
|e»
w|tb|aagveaµgmmtbowsaddenæa±ptodd@tbat
gen
­
emtea"æo|at|oa.")lah,theæ|adved±,otobjmv|q,
pµtr4
htsocbæmeats|mp|ymaomamoa|atbe~eqdayæaw|oæ
ae:·
oImewotk|agw|eat|st.lasbon,todow|ea±,ædmtomasaoÞ
|
xeadst,b|stonmotpb||opb|mawam |soaao .mdjæ
r
"`
a|ayeta=aotkaowso|o|ogm|tbæqoIsma||gopstopm
d
|c·
|awmæajaq,masc|eat|stbatd|yma|mam|o|ogmædp
|
·
o
f
howæmpt|dvegaptomact|oasom m||yw|th|a|t.
THE FALoF PosiSM
[
beaot|oatbatw|eat|sum||tt|eb=oItbeb|stot|m|æatmtoI
t
h
ei
r rec mmeæm,~eaapmpt,oIsc|ea±smd|m.Tome
e
,;e
q
t
tbatsc|eadsua4dmtbepæt,tb
qæasmadyæBb|oatbeæte-
c
ed
e
nt
oIme|twotk|nme|mgoIæatempµpm|agthæqæd
e
,
p|m
adoa.Tbmæobjm|veh|stot|mmontoItbed~dopmeatoI
sc
|e
qt|hc
oadenwd|agotæackaow|çeøtoIpæ|b|eaoamt|oad
|acton
at
p|ay|nme~o|ot|oaoImesc|eat|6c d|sc|p||ae aotd|agy
g|
¿
y
ao
s|g|6mtm|e|atbepmm|oadw|eamceadmvot. laomet
wo
rd, sd
-mmoaonx|eamcpm±mmmeaspqoIotb-
e
ø,w
b||exeamhtmemostpmmtt|ctmemwvmtoæi¤gsc|ea±
µ
bet tbqm|gt.
8atæommgapnpemmm,aaovdqomt|onpmau|m
or at let soKoha agom. Heækd, |Isc|ea±, toptoo,dm aot
te|joa aadenmad|ng|uowa ot|g|as aad tmc|ag |uh|stot|m|~o|o-
ti
o
n, tbea towhatmtentdm|tadbeteto socb mt|oaa| mtgot|moI
áoe|
µ
pmeat?TeWtbeo&md|aæt@|vdypanamto
the p|atoIh|sow gad|adoa~agomtbatsdeat|6cm&m¤W a
p
;
q
ægvemmbymyBton,oIwh|chtbeobj±t|vedetmt|oa
of asmhatd|ystmdoae. Fæoos|y,µgweætbeæagomet-
a
te olom,p||dm,maom|c,amtbedc,ædm|o|@m|agm|eau
that mmeadd|t|oaa|æatt|bot|agBtontowbathadb|tbenobua
sole
l
y sc|eamcmdoad|q. Fomet,æd~eamoæd|stotb|ag,tbepot-
suit oItmthæma|nmoa|yæ|dm|,Iotmrh, rammkg, ædsqrm»
/penæbymeh|stot|mmtdweææat|agadyæmtmctm.Mm|t
subje
totbemuoIDÖ ædh|g|y8m|b|e|a|u|ateqæt|ve
s
c
h
e
mt, w|ea±|mt|uæ omm|ogmæt|ag. Ua±m|aobj±t|v|q
j|:|áw
toæasmcdv|sm,bamth|agmepmb|emoIdeha|ag|ateqtc-
t
a
tive
scbe
g
bwa's
5
mn|mmmeaµgoImmbyg|ac|agaot-
=evep|auoIw~wmdmpdomempbæmagtbem|aæmepa-
1:

oI
w|enmcpm±ædtbæq,tbeph||ompb|m oa±m|aqoI
�:|:a
me
mmo,ædmespmo|cmmoIxeamcd.Ka's

;
eq
m
donisa0mMæl(Rcd 1987), tbat|s,w|eamcp-
°Pmmmatmeæmpgwt|dv|~apptæd|sdaop|Ö.
¹ o N=æ,m,htmp|e,memomdad-mbb|tdmw|agweæa
:ia
g
e
m
µyapptæe|metadockotB mb|t.Athntgaa±,mmt
peop
l
e M e|metoae|mgottbeotbenmat|s,oaeæ|ma|appto
º
:
=% 4oæd|adqadeat, æd,dpmmpæ, tbq
§
ab|etoM
9
0 SCIENCE AO TE QuE FOR MENING
thc othcr znìmzI. Lnc ìmzgc orthc othcr hoIds thcvìcwcr´s zttc
ntìo
g
·
nzmcIy, thc duck znd rzbbìt ænnot bc sccn togcthcr. 5ìmìIzrIy, þ
qþg
Qucd thztwhcnwcIookztthcworId thmu@ gzmdìgms,wcb
cho
[
d¿
gznìcuIzrgìcturc, nzmcIy, thztwcbmc"Iodìnto"zgzmdìgµ @g
thcmbyÑìIto"scc"(orshìh)bonthztvìwzndznzItcrnztìvc.l
ndcc
g
·
dìvcr@nt scìcntìhc thmrìc, whìIc mkrrìngto thc "æmc" ghcnomcno
g
·
æ cmbIcthoscghcnomcnzìn mdìæIymvc@ntwys.Ardìng
to
t
þ
ìs
@mtthcìs,thcdìhcmnooINwonìznædAìstotcIìæscìcncc

@
·
Iow tmnsIztìon oIthcìr rcsgcctìvc dcscrìgtìons Irom onc systcm
to
th
c
othcr. lnothcrwords, thq8 inmmmrabl, notjmtdìmrcnt.
1hc@tzItgìcturcoIscìcntìhcchzn@modcIshowmntcxt,gætc
y
pz
.
rìcno,zndÑmìIìzræumgtìonscontmIourgrccgtìonszndconccptu
¿
|
cxgcrìcnccs. Ln thìs vìw, thc mctzghysìc ìn whìch wc zrc cnvcIop
z
g
grccIudc Iìvìngwìthìn znothcr systcm orwcn trznsIztìng thzt systcæ
ìnto tcrms thzt zrc dìsccmzbIc to our own mndzmcntzI undcrstzndìog
oIwhat thcworId ìszndhowìtbæìczIIyworks. 1hcædìnzI grìncìp|c
hzrknsbzcktoLothc´sorìgìnUobscntìon thztÑozrcthmq-Izdco.
5ìmgIy,what scìcntìsusodcgndsonthcthmrìcormodcIswìthwhìch
thcy work.'
Kuhn´skcyconccgt,zndthconc@ncmtìngthcmostdìscussìon,was
not hìszgumcntconccrnìngscìcntìhcchzn@ (ì.c.,zskgtìczIæscssmcot
oIthcgìcturcoIzn ordcrIy grogrcssìon oIscìcntìhcgrowth) , butt
h
at
suchnoIutìonsmzyrcndcrthcvznguìshcdgzmdìgmìnmmmcnsurzb|c
wìth ìts succcssor. Hcrc thc rzdìczI chzmctcroIthc grcscntztìon ho
[
ds
mmrcc. ìIoncworIdvìwìsìnmmmcnsumtcwìthznothcr,humæs
1
tc
c cntìzIIyIìmìtcdtothcmcmghysìæworIdthztthqìnhcrìt.5opowcr
·
f ìssuchzvìwthztthcgrwìousIyzocgtcdthmqcscntìUIymptutc·
ìumIIowcrswìthìn ìucgìstcmoIogìæzndontoIogìcUwcb. Undcr
sucb
cìrcumstzno,howmì@tobjcctìvìqbzmncdîlndod,whztìs
reit
ìIthcmodcoIdccrìgtìon comgctc zgìnstothcrcontcndcnwìth Þ4|
·
æIydìhcrcnt grcccgts znd grcsuggosìtìons (thosc thzt ænot bc¢
h
a
'
·
Icn@d)thzthoIdìubcIìwcnhrmIywìthìnthcìrgmsgî1hcmcrìts
o|
t
h
e
æchzvcmngcdmm thc tcchnìæ Iìmìtztìons ìmgoscd by ìnstrum
co|:
oIìnguìqto thczrbìtrµconccgtuzI boundzrìcscìcnccmmtzcc
cp
t
i n
ìu gunuìt oI"tmth. "(5ccHoynìn@n-Hucnc l ººJmræhzustìvc
tc
|cr
·
cnccrc@dìngKuhn`szrgumcnt.)
Kuhn´s own vìcwswcrc modìhcd to thc goìnt oIdìszvow
ìn
§
t
h
.
e
"Kuhnìzns." lnmo Iztcrc zy (Kuhn l ººl , l ºº2), hcrcmrmuIztc
dh
ts
THE FALL oF PosiTIVISM
9
1
p
osit
ion
regarding scientifc knowledge, and more specifcally i ncom­
m
e
nsurab
ility, in an endeavor to salvage Stctre fom a radic relativ­
is
m. K
uh
n built his cse from fmiliar material: science frmly embedded
i
n
it
s culture ("The Archimedean platform outside of histor, outside
o
f
time and space, is gone beyond recl") , an evolutionar epistemol­
ogy
("
Scientifc development is like Dari nian evolution, a process
d
ri
ve
n from behind rather than pulled toward some ftxed goa to which
it
g
rows ever closer"), and a antirealist orientation for truth claims ("If
t
he not
ion of truth has a role to play in scientifc deelopment, which I
sh
all argue elsewhere that it does, then truth cannot be anything quite
l ik
e correspondence to relity" [ 1 992, 1 4] ) . From these positions, Kuhn
redefned incommensurability a a conceptua disparity beteen special­
ties that have grown apart, a "sort of un-translatability, locizd to one
or another area in which to lexic taonomies difer" ( 1 991 ) . In some
sense, he continued to share the same positions advocted by his more
radical followers, ad he could never disasociate himself from the radic
re
alignments that he spawned.
The historians following Kuhn developed new historiographic mod­
e
ls, which included more interest-driven scenarios, for example, socia­
psychological models describing science as feled by social i nterests and
psychological needs to the point of driving, if not determining, theor
conceptualiztion. Marist, Darinian, feminist, and various construc­
ti
v
ist orientations followed (Rchards 1 987) . Finally, those attempting to
fnd a more comprehensive scf olding turned to a variety of evolutionar
models, represented most promi nently by Gerald Holton, David Hull,
I mre Latos, Krl Popper, Robert Richards, and Stephen Toulmin. On
the
evolutionary vie, theor surives not solely by appeal to evidence
but be
cause other competitors are less ft. The intellectua environment
sele
cts ideas and restricts those that might otherise be entertained in a
co
m
plex
calculus of the intellectual traditions and the socia situations of
i
ts
practitioners. Science then is vieed as an ever-evolving enterprise, the
b
usi n
ess
of which is to attend to the picturing of the world. Howeer, a
r
epr
es
entation it only achieve an approximation. The pramatic episte­
mo
l
o
gical
judgment of its practitioners is always unsteady as they probe
to
veri f
their depictions with nature as best they C. This theme recur
t
hr
o
ug
hout contemporar science studies, so, besides stimulating com­
pe
ti
ng m
o
dels of scientifc change, Stcre spawned an entire genertion
of
s
ci
en
ce studies that is inspired by its central theis. That the book W
92
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FORMENING
later co-opted by strong constructivist Kuhnians,6 and other postmo
der

ists, whom he shunned, is only one of several ironie, which inclu
de h
is
professional homelessness, as he sought acceptance by philosoph
ers o
f
science who chose to ignore him.
Depite the undoubted infuence of its arument, the ultimate inf

ence of Stctrt more likely rests on deeper philosophical argum
en
ts
and other shifing elements in the study of science. By 1 960, the posi
tiv­
ist program was already unwinding from within (Friedman 1 999) ,
an
d
Kuhn, for all of his originality, dre upon a profound philosophical
re
a
­
sessment of positivism led by Quine. How Qui ne's insights have been
extended to the foreground of science studie cnnot be overemphasized,
for he, more than any other fgure, unhinged descriptions of scientifc
prctice and its pragmatic logic fom formal accounts.
Que ad te Dimtg of Lc Positism
For tentieth-centur positivists, that is, the logical positivists, languae
becme the arena in which to examine science's philosophy. The main­
tned that scientifc method is the only source of knowledge, and that a
sttnmt is meaningfl only if it is "scientifc," in other words, empi
r

clly verifable. (For our purose, we will ignore the diferences beteen
"logicl" and "empirical" positivists.) While discardi ng metaphysics ¾
meaningles and thus something that could be ignored, they endeavored
to ground science in language, which they had hoped would follow logi­
cal analysis (Ayer 1 952).
The logical positivist movement (also called the Vienna Circle)
of
the 1 920s arose, in large measure, as a reolt against the idealism that
dominated philosophy at the turn of the centur (M Reichenbach 1 95 1 ;
Frank 1 949; and various papers i n Ayer 1 959). Joining other analytic
philosophers, they rejected metaphysic tout coun by specifcally ar
g
uing
aginst traditional metaphysic through the logical analysis of languag
e
(Hylton 1 990; Giere and Richardson 1 996; Tait 1 997) . Statements allud­
ing to some transcendental reality were regarded as meaningless, si nce
they could not be verifed. Thus the knowledge criteria of science
were
extended to the domains that could not be so charcterizd, not only ª
beyond empirical science, but beyond analytic discourse altogether.8
In thei r analysis of language, the logical positivists pursued bo
th
a
"negtive" program and a "positive" one. The frst dispenses with "n
o
n
-
THE fALL oF PosJTMSM
93
s
cien
ce
" (a major focus of concern) by establishing a linguistic conception
o
f an
al
ytic truth that would provide an account of the nonempirical char­
acter of
logico-mathematical knowledge. Without appeal to metaphyi­
@
p
rin
ciples or abstrct entities (like concepts or idea), these positivists
attem
pt
ed to establish the a priori status oflogic and mathematic compat­
ible with a radical empiricism by showing the truth of such propositions
through logical analysis. Having putatively secured logic and mathemat­
ic and having pushed metaphysic aide, positivist philosophy wa then
freed to do epistemolog in the sme analytical lingitc manner. Their
philosophy thus becme the analysis and clarifcation of meaning with
the use oflogic and scientifc method. Accordingly, language W vieed
ß
a system for solving problems; from another vantage, philosophicl
problems were charcterized as confsions bestowed by language itself
or 8 Wittgenstein fmously noted, "philosophical problems arise when
languae goe on holiday" (Wingenstein 1 953/ 1 968, 1 9e). Accrdingly,
the aim of linguistic analysis is to solve philosophical problems, namely,
"to shew the fy the way out of the fy-bottle" ( 1 03e). These efors, how­
eer, filed (as Wittgenstein might have predicted given his suspicions
[see n. 8] ), and given this new opening, a spectrm of options ranging
over varieties of naturlism, pragmatism, constructivism, and relativism
have made their repective claims.
Logical positivism's failure had many sources, but for our present
purposes the issue reduce to a single fult: for the logical positivists, the
key to cognitive signifcnce reted on mutually exclusive criteria, that is,
logical and fctual. Thus meaningfl statements either were analtc­
i
nd
ependent of empirical considerations and reliant on language alone
(a
Quine wrote, "grounded in meanings independently of matters of
fct" -r snth�tc (asenions which were verifed or flsifed by empiricl
procedure, in other words, "grounded in fct" [ 1 953a/ 1 961 / 1 980, 20] ).
Indeed, the demarcations-theor/obseration, discover/verifcation,
fact/valuereted on this more fndamental division beteen synthetic
and analyic statements.
Mathematical and logical statements were regarded as analytical
(
t
autologies) and true by defnition. Such propositions are helpfl in
or
ganizing cognitively meaningfl statements, but are not verifable by
e
a
mining the world and thus say nothing about the world. In contrt,
synthetic truths are empirical. The analytidsynthetic division so under­
sto
od
originates with Kant, who argued in the Crtiqu� of Pur� R�aon
9
4
Sci ENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENING
( 1 787/ 1 998) that sensor experience requi res mental (cognitive) sy
nt
h

sis, while analytic statements are tautological and rest within their
o
w
n
i nternal logic and defnition. For instance, the truth of the state
me
n
t,
"All unwedded men are bachelors, " depends solely on the defnitio
n
of
"bachelor" and thus is an analytic statement. "I dropped the ball" is
a
synthetic statement. Its truth content is asessed by determining whethe
r
I actually dropped a physical sphere that bounces, and if not, whether
my statement refers to having failed an assignment or responsibility or
some other referent. In shon, synthetic j udgments require some inter­
pretative, empirical operation and thus are distinguished from analy
ti
c
l
statements. Or at least so it seemed.
The so-called analytic-synthetic distinction collapsed under Quine's
critique, which showed that synthetic statements could not be com­
pletely separated form analytic elements that supported them. To say
that "Caesar crossed the Rubicon" cnnot sufce as a synthetic statement
becuse the ver meaning and signifcance of that sentence require a vat
netork of supponing fcts, defnitions, and interpretations, which, in
turn, crete a web of belief. This "holism" set the stage for Kuhn's para­
digm, becuse Quine argued that it is entire theories that hold empiric
signifcnce. This position had broad rmifctions.
Quine efectively argued that theories are tested as ensembles, not
singly. Becuse ( 1 ) any scientifc statement cn be held true if adequate
revisions are made elsewhere in the system; and, conversely, (2) no state
­
ment is immune to change, truth claims are made within the context of
the whole, and not even analytical statements are fee of such adjustment
(Quine 1 953a/ 1 961 1 1 980, 1 991 ; Ludan 1 990b). A Quine wrote, �our
statements about the external world fce the tribunal of sense experience
not i ndividually but only as a corporate body" (Quine 1 953a/ 1 961 1 1 980,
41 ) . (Lter, he would moderate the general hol ism, that is, "all of sci­
ence," to the unit of empirical evidence.)
Two elements desere emphasis. Fi rst, language (and by extensi
on,
belief systems and scientifc theor) achieves stability by balancing
all
respective elements withi n a holistic construction ( 1 953b/ 1 961 / 1 98
0,
vi i i ). The web of belief acts as a kind of bufering system for accom­
modating ne elements and bestowing meaning on them by their coor­
dination withi n the system as a whole (Quine and Ullian 1 978). T
he
second element describes the relativity of the process inasmuch as ea
c
h
system (language, theor) has i ts own coordinates, its own inner logic
,
THE FALoF PosiTIVSM
95
ìts
e
wn
pesturc rc|ztìvc te etbcrsystcms. Merc Iermz||y, "bcczusc rcI-
ct
cn
cc ìszrbìtrzq, rcIcrcncc i nenscnsc cxccpt rc|ztìvc te z ceerdìnztc
gtc
m"
(Quìnc l ºº0, 7; cmpbæìs ìnerìgìnz|).1bìssìmp|ymczns tbzt
|anguz
gc hts |eesc|y te tbc wer|d, znd tbc mznncr ìnwbìcb werds er
st
atcm
cnu|ìnktetbcwer|dìszrbìtrzqzndtbusìndctcrmìnztc,cxccptæ
ìn
tcgrztcdwìtbìnsemc"ceerdìnztcqtcm. "Quìncdubbcdtbìs c|zìm æ
t
hc
"ìn
scrutzbì|ìtyeIrcIcrcncc" (Quìnc l º6ºz) .
1bc Quìnczn |ìmìts eItbc znz|ytìc, znd tbc cnscmb|c eIvzrìeus
ìndctcrmìnzncìc(eIrcIcrcncc,eIundcrdctcrmìnztìen,zndeItmns|ztìen
¡
l ºº0} ),"p|zccdscìcnccundcrzscrutìnytbztìnzugurztcdzrcve|utìenìn
chzrzctcrìzìngìts trutb c|zìms zndeb¡cctìvc mctbeds. lnstczd eIsemc
ìdcz|ìud netìeneItrutbertbcsìngu|zrtmtbguetìcnteIznypzrtìcu|zr
|act, z|| eItbc c|cmcnts eIkew|cdgc¬Izcts, bypetbcscs, tbcerìcs, tbc
dìvcrscvz|ucssuppertìngczcb, tbc |ìnguìstìcstructurcs zndmctzpbers,
thc|zrgcrsecìæ znd cu|turz| dctcrmìnznts, zndse Iertb-entrìbutcd
tewbztbcm||cdzwcbeIbc|ìch. Lìkczwcb,znyz|tcrztìeneIencpzrt
sìgnìhcd zn zd¡ ustmcnt tbztweu|d cìtbcrzccemmedztcerrc¡cct tbzt
cempencnt.Onccìncerpemtcd,z||tbcetbcrsuppertìngc|cmcntsweu|d
dsebzvctezdjustte tbcìntcgrztìeneItbcncpzrt. ln tbc|zst scctìen
o|"1we degmæeIcmpìrìcìsm,"Quìncsummzrìzcd bìs pesìtìen bcttcr
thznznycemmcntzter.
[T]otal science is like a feld of frce whose boundary conditions are expe­
rience. A confict with exprience at the pripher occions redjustments
in the interior of the feld. Truth value have to b redistributed over some
of our sttements. Reeuation of some statements entails reuation of
others, bu of their logicl interconnections . . . . But the total feld is
so underdetermined by its bundary conditions, exprience, that there is
much latitude of choice Ü to what statements to revaluate in the light
of any single contrar experience. No panicular experiences are linked
with any panicu statements in the interior of the feld, except indirectly
thrugh considertions of equilibrium afect the feld Ü a whole.
If t ve is right, it is misleding to spak of the empiricl content
of an individual statement-specially if it is a statement at all remote
fom the expriential peripher of the feld. Funhermore it becomes folly
to sek a bundar ben synthetic statements, which hold contingently
on eprienc, and analytic statements, which hold come what may. Any
statement L b held true come what may, if we make drastic enough
adjustments elseher in the system. ( 1 953a/ 1 961 / 1 980, 42-43)
SCIENCE AO TE QUE FOR MENING
ln rcgudìztìngthc"ìmzgìncdboundzrybcmon thcznzIytìcznd
,
j
-
synthctìc, " Quìnccsgouscdz "morcthorough gQmztìsm. Lch mzn
|s
gìvcn z scìcntìhc hcrìtzgc gIus zcontìnuìngbzrqoIscnsoq stìµ
u|
z
-
tìon, znd thc consìdcrztìonswhìch guìdc hìm ìn wzrgìng hìs scìc
ntì
§
ç
hcrìtzgc to ht hìs contìnuìngscnsoq gromgtìng zrc, whcrc rztì
onz| ,
grz@ztìc" (Quìnc l º5JUl º0l l l º80,40).
1hc grzgmztìc, Iocæ dcscrìgtìvc zItcrnztìvc Quìncohcrcd mzìn
-
tæncdthztthcræIìqsoughtbyscìcntìsuW zmcmghysìæægìrztìoµ,
dìsccrncdbysubstìtutìngthcìrIìnguìstìcznUysìs mrz trzdìtìonzI mctz
-
ghysìc (Quìnc l º0ºb). Hc zgucd thztwc must bc sztìshcd wìth
:
j
-
gìcturcohcrcd byour ìnvctìgtìons butcIæm nomorc (Quìnc l º6
ºç)
,
1mth C onIy bcdchncdwìthìn ìu gæìcuÍæ mmwork. A Nc
q
rzth
ÑmousIy notcd, "¼c zrc Íìkc szìÍorswho hzvc to rcbuìId thcìr shìp zt
§, wìthoutcvcr bìng zbIc to dìsmzndc ìt ìn d-dockznd rcconstm
ç
t
ìthom thcbctcomgoncnu" ( l ºJl Ul º8J,º2). Lngu@thcnu am-:
thcccntrzIìqoIghìIosoghìæznzIyìs:
lI¾ mnnetg euteIthc"cenoptuaIbat"npmcntcdbyencIìnguìs-
tìchamoerkeranethcrandgnade vìocIthcwerId Ü ìt rcaIIy
ìsìndæ,ìIìtdmnetocnm MM tc ìmagncsuchathìng-thcn
why net turn eur attcntìen teward thc bcat ìtscIIand thc cenccptìens
abutmIìqìtcmbu!(Kmanes l 98J,Jl )
lndccd, Quìnc IoIIowcd Lzrnzg znd Ncurzth ì nrccognìzìng thzt out
mnccgtìonsoIræIìqzrcdctcrmìncdbyIzngu@,zIznguzgcthztænnot
bcægdnorvìwcdmmæ.NoIc thznræìqìsztstzkc.
ThcmndamcntaI-sæmìngphìIeæphìæguutìen,HewmucheIeurscì-
cnoi mcrcIyontrìbutcdbyIanguagandhewmuchìsagnuìncrchcc-
tìeneIrcaIìty! ìs pcrhaps aspurìeusguutìen whìch ìtscIIæwheIIy
mmaortaìnpartìcuIart eIIangu@.CmìnIywcÜ ìnaprmìm-
mcntìIwct teanwcrthcguutìen,mrtcÅrthcguutìenwcmust
taIk abeut thcwerId Ü wcII Ü abeut Ianguagc, and tc taIk abeut thc
werId¾ mustaIrædyìmpscupnthcwerIdæmconoptuaI schcmc
gIìartceurewnspIæg. (Quìnc l 95Jd l 96l l l 980,78)
Ncìthcr Iznguzgc norscìcntìhc conccgtuU schcmcs mìrror nzturc, zu
d
thus 8 ìngthcsuccc oIznyschcmc ìs bzscd on gmgmztìc crìtcrì1
,
1hcczrc zdcguztc Ior thc tæk zt hznd, Ubcìt "tmth" æsumcs z
m
od
¯
ctsmno. 1hcgmo ìsgìcomæI,yct gm@sìvc. Fìckìngug thc
b
Þ
1
t
mgzìrmcmghorzgìn.
THE FALL oF PosiTIVISM
Yet we must not leap to the fatalistic conclusion that we are stuck with
the conceptual scheme that we gre up in. We L change it bit by bit,
plank by plank, though menwhile there is nothing to cr us aong, but
the evolving conceptual scheme itself. The philosopher's task wa well
compared by Neurath to that of a mariner who must rebuild his ship on
the open sea. (Quine 1 953dl 961 / 1 9
8
0,
78
-
7
9)
1 0
97
Accordì
ng|y, tbc bc|ìcIsystcm ìs net dcpcndcntenwbzt ìs reaDy tbcrc,
b
ut
rz
tbcren tbcsucccss wìtb wbìcb ìt werks. And ìt "werk" tbreugb
obscn
ztìon znd tbc bypetbctìcz|-dcductìvc mctbed, wbìcb tbcn ehcrs
z "conccptuz| scbcmc" eItbc rcz|. Andcenccptuz| scbcmcs, |ìkcImmc
o
|rcIcrcncc ìnrc|ztìvìtytbceq,scnczs our pcrspcctìvc. Realit ìs tbcn
oo|your bcst tbceq. Mctzpbysìc sbìhs te zn ente|egìcz| cemmìtmcnt
tonzturz|ìsm znd ìtsdcscns. 1rutbtbcn ìsz preducteItbìs przgmztìc
zpprozcb,znzpprezcbwbesc|ìmìtswcbcttcrundcrstzndbutwbescsuc-
ccssìsbcyendznyhnz||egìcz|znz|ysìs.
Yct przgmztìc rcsu|ts d zrrìvc. Accerdìng te Quìnc, scìcncc ìs zn
object-orented iiom, zndscìcntìsts "spczkeIeb¡ccts" tbztæccndz |zd-
der oIpub|ìcìdcntìhmtìenzndzbstrzctìon.Wczrcnetìn"cesmìccxì|c,"
butzpprezcbtbcrcz|wìtbcenhdcncc,z|bcìtcenIermìngtezgeedmæ-
surcoIskcptìcìsm. In tbccnd, znd mzyc ìncensìstcnt|y, Quìnc`s nztu-
t
z
|ìsm bz|znccd bìs rc|ztìvìsm, znd tbzt nzturz|ìsmwzs stczdIzst. Netc
thzttbcpesìtìendcrìvcshemzpbì|esepbìæcrìtìguceI|znguzgc,¡ustæ
thcposìtìvìstsìnsìstcdbutbzrd|ybzdIercsccn.
(l) Lnguzgcìsnetpìcterìz||yrc|ztcdtetbccxtcrnz|wer|dzndtbus
mnnetprevìdcznìsemerpbìcdcpìctìeneItbcwer|d(" cerrcspen-
dcncc" tbcerìcseItrutb zrc tbcrcIerc Ierbìddcn). 1bus |znguzgc
(prepesìtìens)mnnetprcscntuswìtbzpìcturceIrcz|ìtyæwbe|c,
nermn|znguzgcrcprccnt(cerrcspendte)semchnz|eru|tìmztc
rcz|ìty.
(2) Werd mænìng zrcdcrìvcdIremtbccentcxteItbcìrusc(c.g. , "l
zmgeìngtetbcbznk" mzy mczn I zm geìngtez rìvcrerI zm
geìngtegct semc mency) , zndtbus mcznìngsmustbccensìd-
crcdìntbcunìvcrsceIru|cs,centcxt,bzbìts,zndcenvcntìenstbzt
bcstewmænìng.
(3)
Oìhcrcnt|znguzgc mnctìens must bc dìhcrcntìztcd (c.g. , nzm-
ìng, c|zssìqìng, cemmzndìng, prcscrìbìng,dcscrìbìng, rcIcrrìng,
cxprcssìng,ctc.)zndnetconhztcd.
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
And, pcrbzpsmestìmpertznt|y.
(4) Lnguzgc cznnetge"bcbìnd" ìtsc|I, sìncc wc weu|dbzvc
te
use
cìtbcr ìtsewn symbe|s eretbcr symbe|s ìnzn cnd|css rcgrcss
to
dccrìbc|znguzgc. Lngu@ctbusehcrsusneArcbìmcdcznp
eìo
t
ìnwbìcb te cìtbcrdcscrìbc |znguzgc ìuc|Iertbc ræ|ìqtbzt |zo-
guzgcdcscrìbcs, tbuswczrc|chwìtbtbcdì|cmmzeIundcrstzn
d-
ìng|znguzgc`sstrìcturcs zs ìtscncs zs tbcvcbìc|ceItbc mìn
d's
cxp|erztìen eItbcwer|d. Kcz|ìty mzy bcvìcwcd ìn z|tcrnztìve
wzy, netbcmusctbcnzturceIhctsdcpcndsenbewwccenstrue
er undcrstznd tbcm te bc, butrztbcrbcczusc tbcrc zrc ne such
hcts cxccpt rc|ztìvc te semc |ìnguìstìcercenccptuz| Irzmcwetk
wìtbìnwbìcbwc|ìvc (Kemznes 1 983, 29). ln sben, zccerdìngto
tbcQuìncznpesìtìen (z|tbeugb mucbbzdbccnzrgucdczr|ìcrby
Ncurztb [sccn. 1 0] ), |znguzgcmnnetbcbæcbcd. Our¡udgmcots
zrccmbcddcdwìtbìntbcbezteIeur|znguzgczndmnccpts. Out
|znguzgc en|y cbzngcs pìcccmcz|, s|ew|y, wìtb ne ncw dcsìgo
zvzì|zb|c.1bczrcbìtcctenìceItbceqzrcsìmì|zr|ytmppcd.
Undcrstzndìng tbc bzsìc centeurs eIQuì nc`s pesìtìen znd tbesc he
dcbztcdp|zccstbccenccptuz| ìssucscurrcnt|yìndìsputcentbcìrpbì|o-
sepbìcz|sczhe|d¬nzmc|y, tbccenstructìvìstpesìtìen tbztdcIcndcrso|
z pesìtìvìstscìcnccscc zs tbrcztcnìngrczsen, eb¡cctìvìty, znd tbc put-
suìt eItrutb. Admìttcd|y, tbìs summzryeIQuìnc`svìcws bzrd|ydocs
justìcc te tbccemp|cxìty eItbc ìssucs bc rzìscd znd rcIermu|ztcd (scc
Quìnc 1 990 znd 1 991 Ier bìs ewn summzq) , but ìnzpprccìztìnghew
bcscncd zsz trznsìtìen bcmccn tbcpesìtìvìstszndtbc|ztcrcenstru
c-
tìvìsts wbe Ie||ewcd tbcm, wc scc z dccp unrcse|vcd tcnsìen. en thc
encbznd, bìscemmìtmcnt te nzturz| cpìstcme|egyp|zccs bìm hrm|¡
wìtbìn tbc rcz|ìst czmp,yct, en tbcetbcr, bìspbì|esepbyeI|znguzgc
epcns tbc wzy te zntìrcz|ìsm. ' ' And tbc nct rcsu|t! Wc|| Ier mes
t o
|
Quìnc`s Ie||ewcrs, z p|urz|ìstìc unìvcrsc cmcrgcs. "Wbzt wc must Iz
cc
ìs tbc Izct tbzt cvcn tbc trucst dcscrìptìen cemcs newbcrc nczr Izìth-
m||yrcpreducìngtbcwzytbcwer|dìs. . . . l rc¡ccttbcìdcztbzttbcrc
ìs
semc tcst eIrcz|ìsm erIzìtbm|ncss ìn zddìtìen te tbc tcsts eIpìcterìa|
geedncss znd dcscrìptìvc trutb. 1bcrc zrcvcq mzny dìhcrcntcguz||¡
truc dcscrìptìenseItbcwer|d, znd tbcìr trutb ìs tbc en|y stzndzrd
o
|
tbcìrIzìtbm|ncss"(Geedmzn 1 972, 29-31 ).WbztGeedmznmcznt

trutb bzsbccnznìmbreg|ìeeIvzstcenmsìen,`¨ but |czvìng tbzt mztt
ct
THE FALL OF Pos|1wsu
99
a

dc, sumccìtte cenc|udctbztQuìnc`sente|egìcz| rc|ztìvìsm,zherd-
ìn
g
en|y
przgmztìccrìtcrìzIerknewìngtbcwer|d, rcprcscntszbcdreck
p
o
sìtì
en tewbìcb |ztcrscìcncc studìcs censtznt|yrcIcr,cìtbcrcxp|ìcìt|y
ot,
mercehcn, ìmp|ìcìt|y.
Upen Quìnc`sp|ztIerm, Kubn buì|tzn zrgumcnt tbzt pìncd bìste-
tìanszndsecìe|egìsuzgzìnstscìcntìstswbecmbrzccdzpesìtìvìstvìceI
t
hc
wer|d.5e,wbìIcKubnmercdìrcct|yìnhucnccd|ztcrscìcnccstudìcs,
Quìnc,
merc tbzn znyetbcrpbì|esepbcr, mustbccrcdìtcdwìtbdìsæ-
sc
mb|
ìngtbcgesìtìvìst pregrzm (c.g. , Kemznes 1 983; Heekwzy 1 988;
ßzttctt znd Gìbsen 1 990; Nc|sen 1 990; írìcdmzn 1 999; Zzmmì te
2004). 1bztbc epcncd tbcdeerte rzdìczI rczctìens zgzìnstpesìtìvìsm
con¡urcszccrtzìnìreny,sìnccQuìnc`sewn nztumìzìngcpìstcme|e@ìs
sttong|ysuppenìvctetbcscìcntìhcpregrzmwrìt-|zrgc,æbìs|ztcrwerk
c|czr|y stztcs (c.g. , Quìnc 1 995). Hìs vìcw eIscìcncc ìs "trzdìtìenzI"
ìnmzny rcspccts, znd bcbìgb|yrcgzrdcd tbc Iruìts eIscìcntìhcIzbers
thzt Ie||ewcd z nzturz|ìsmbcstreng|ycnderscd,wbìcbehcrcd tbcbcst
apptexìmztìen eIobjtctvt, tt knew|cdgc. l netc bìs zttìtudcbcczusc
Quìncwczrs me pcrsenzc. 1bc hrst ìs cenIcrrcd by tbc pewcreIbìs
ctìtìquceItbc pesìtìvìst zgcndz. 1bzt crìtìquc W wìtbìntbcszmctrz-
dìtìen eI|egìcz| znz|ysìs tbztspzwncd tbc Vìcnnz 5cbee|, znd Quìnc,
ttaìncdæz|egìcìzn,W vcqmucbzmcmbcreItbzttrzdìtìen.5ccend,
hcwzsznìnhucntìzI ìntcr|ecutereILzrnzp(æwc||æetbcrpesìtìvìsts)
and,mercìmpenznt|y,bcwzsenchrm|ycemmìttcdtescìcncczszIerm
oIknewIcdgc, bcncc bìs nzturz|ìsm. 1bc etbcr ìdcntìhcztìen, enc bc
wou|dwczrwìtbdìscemIen,rcIcrstetbcpreducteItbztcrìtìquc,wbìcb
sct tbcceursc Ier gestpesìtìvìsm Ier tbc ncxt bz|I-ccntuq. 1bzt trz¡cc-
toqIe||ewcd z rzdìcz| secìz| censtructìvìst pztb Irem wbìcb bcweu|d
dìst
zncc bìmsc|I(mucb zs Kubn preIcsscd bestì|ìty Ier tbc Kubnìzns,
w
ho
mrrìcdbìswerktecndsIerwbìcbbcbzdnetsctceursc) .
1bcscmvcztszrc nco ìnerdcr te p|zcc ìn pcrspcctìvcQuìnc`s
ac
bìcvcmcnt,bethIerwbztbcìntcndcdzndIerwbztbcdìdnet.mcrzI|,
Quìnc`scenc|usìens,in toto, wcrcdcvætztìngteznynermztìvczcceunt
o
Iscìc
ncc. 5ìmp|y, tbccenstructìvìsm premetcd by pestpesìtìvìst bìs-
totì
zns
zndsecìe|egìsts rcstsen tbc rc|ztìvìsm Quìnczherdcd tbcm. lI
Iou
n
dztìenswcrc dìsæscmb|cd, wbzt rcmzìncd etbcrtbzn cenvcntìen,
c
onsìs
tcncy, zndcenscnsus! íergcttìngtbztQuìnccmbrzccd scìcntìhc
t
cQ
ìty
ædchncdbyznzturz|ìudcpìstcme|e@,mercspccìhcz||y,pbyì-
c scì
cncc,tbcìrenyìssc|I-zppzrcnt.
100 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
Those who opposed Quine's followers by embracing a metaphysi­
cal realism and an earlier positivist normative philosophy of truth seek­
ing were deeply disturbed by these developments. They held that
re
ality
would be discovered and increasingly defned as determined by wh
at
g
r�all there. They asked, appropriately, how does science ever procee
d
without testing itself against something "real?" Without asuming som
e
asymptotic approach towards some limit, in this case, the reality
of the
natural world, what does science d? More, by what criteria cn "progress"
be ascenained? Quine's naturalistic stance would rest itself on the pr
ag­
matic results of scientifc scrutiny. That pragmatism would not satisf
those seeking more formal explanations, and so the issues he identifed
continue to provoke debate about realism and objectivity. On the other
side of the aisle, historians and sociologists of science largely bypassed
the philosophical realism/antireaism debates and focused instead on t
h
e
methods and i nstruments that confer obj�ctiv� accounts. An emphasis
wa placed on "extra-curricular" infuences, which were decribed under
the banner of contctvim. The identifction of such fctors and their
fnction in the production of scientifc knowledge increasingly domi ­
nated the science studies literture in the 1 970s and 1 980s. While con­
tinuing to sufer from unresolved difculties of defnition (McMullin
1 988; Hacki ng 1 999; Kukla 2000) , constructivism then sered as the
conceptual battleground of the ensuing "warfre" during the 1 990s over
how to defne science and it place in society.
Te Cntct Chaleng
When a logical structure for scientifc discover and verifction see
me
d
elusive at best (philosophy) , and the histor of science seemed similarly
marked by nonprogressive, nonrational models of growth, students o
|
science paid closer attention to the social variables that might acc
ount
for scientifc practice. Following Kuhn, the organizing question in
sci­
ence studies becme how, and to what extent, aesthetic judgments, deep
cultural and gender values, and social, economic, and political pre
ss
ure
s
combine to infuence scientifc rtionality and method. A ne eth
os to
o
s
hold: if positivist tenets becme inadequate for such explanation, then
a
n
accounting of so-called "external" fctors would supply a more com
p
re
·
hensive undertanding of how science operates. And here, in the lac
u
n
a
lef by positivism's retreat, constructivism expanded its claims.
THE FALL oF PosiTIVSM
101
In the science studies community, constructivism "stands at the con­
fu
en
ce of to strems in the histor of sociolog: the sociolog of knowl­
e
ge an
d the sociolog of science" (Woolgr 1 988a; Ashmore 1 989; Kukla
2
000
,
7). The frt domain, shaped by Mar, Carl Mannheim, and Emil
O
urk
heim, asigns a cu role to socia fctors in forming individua
b
eli
ef,
yet ec eempted science and mathematic
f
m social or cultural
infuence (7). A to sociolog of science, the discipline experienced a radi­
@
cha
nge of coure, shifing fom Menonian descriptions of science a
g social institution to a pst-Kunian "sociolog of scientifc knowledg"
(SSK, where cnstrctivism of various stripe appear in fll fower.
Wit no precribed method of inquir or resting place for its truth
claims, the dominant sociolog of science depicted science immered in,
rther than riding above the needs of the tribulations and power politic
of science's supponing culture, lurching forard by rules not rigidly for­
maizd throug logical analysis. And becuse of the tight intercontextu­
aiztion of scientifc prctic within a comple matrix of philosophical,
historical, and cultural contingencies, these students of science argued
that we cnnot ep that science should possess a singular universal and
prescribed metho. From this gneral orientation, a spectrum of critiques
stretches fom the "strong" progrm of SSK (Barnes 1 985; Bloor 1 991 )
to various conjugte, for eample, the empirical-relativist school (Collins
ad Pinch 1 982; Collins 1 992; Pinch 1 986), ethno-methodological stud­
ies (Lynch 1 985) , actor-netork theor (Latour 1 987; Calion 1 995),
feminist epistemology (Haraway 1 989a, 1 989b; Harding 1 986) , and
smbolic interctionism (Fujimur 1 992). Thee various approaches are
h
eld togeter through a fmily resemblance that demands a circumspect
asessment of how to situate science's appropriate intellectual claims in
th
e co
ntext of sociological determinants.
A reonable defnition of constructivism begins with "X is said to be
co
nstr
ucted if it's produced by intentional human activity" (Kukla 2
00
0,
1I.and thus human anifcts or social activities are easily recognized as
pro
ducts of human invention. But are scientifc concepts constructed?
N
ot
according to the doctrine of natural kinds, whereby conceptual
s
c
h
e
mes ce nature at its preexisting joints, and these are then seen as
discov
ered, not invented. `´ But this simply gainsays the success of the
co
ncept
u structre erected, the succes, if you will, of the construction
W
e
c
ll
a
ther, fct, concept, and so fonh. At least that is the argument,
wh
ich
should bundertod with cenn distinctions, at time confated:
101 SciENCE AOTE QuE FORMEING
Lonstructìvìstsmzyzguczm�tphsial thcìszboutthcHcudcscrìbìµ
§
thcworÍd ìnwhìchwc Iìvc, zn eit�olgcal thcìs conomìngwhztw
c
c knowzbout thcworId, zndzsnntt thcìs rc@rdìngwhztwc
czµ
szyzboutthcworId (KuMz2000, 4).5omcconmìon æìsuìnthcIìt
cr
z
-
turcætowhztthccvzrìousgsìtìonsmzìnmn,znd,morcgoìntcd
Iy,

whcthcr constmctìvìsm ìs ìnvzrìzbIyæìztcdwìth rcIztìvìsm, whcthc
t
ontoIogìcU orcgìstcmoIogìczÍ (�). 1hc sgcctmm oIzÍIìznccs on
thìs
gmbIcmrcgrccntsonca oIthcconstructìvìstcontmvcny.
1hc sccond ægcctoIthcdcbztc conccrns thc cxtcnt to whìch o
µ
c
c mzkcz constructìvìst z@mcnt ìnscìcno. ln somcscnsc, mnstruc
-
tìvìsmìnzsocìzIzndgoIìtìæcontætìsscII¬ìdcnt. ccmnIy, scìcnccìs
gunucdzndsuggoncdIorsocìzIræonszndtcchnoÍogìæ@n. butthc
guctìonIoomsætowhztcxtcntmccmrcctin� scìcntìhchndìug
zndthmqconstructìon.`¯ 5cìcnccìs, ìnztrìvìzIvnsc, "æcìzI."lnothct
words, ìt ìs z humzn zctìvìtythztdw ugon zÍI thosc cÍcmcnts oIout
cmtummztsuggonìucntcgrìsc.1hìsi hzrmycontcntìousìnìtscIIbut
whìIc dccrìbìng thc ìntcrcontætuzIìætìon oIscìcnccznd ìusuggonìu
§
cuIturcmms ìnnoccntcnough,such dccrìgtìonshzvc@ncmtcdhætcd
dcbztcwhcn thczrgumcnu hzvc mIÍowcd z mmmtìczÍ contìnuum thzt
zggczrs to concIudc ìn rzdìczÍ dcconstructìon, thc cnd goìntoIwhìch
Iczvcs scìcncc rcduccd to goIìtìc znd ìnwhìch zn ìnsìdìous rcIztìvìsm
mìgns. 1hcìrcoIscìcntìsu (zndhcml8 mIcnìngto moscwho rcgrd
scìcnccæ zn objcctìvccntcrgrìscæ commonIyundcntood) mgcts thc
æscnìon thzt thcorctìczI IormuIztìons zrc hævìIydctcrmìncd by ìdco·
IogìczÍ orìcntztìons, whcthcr goIìtìczÍ orscxuzI (c.g. , Hzrzwzy, l º89z
,
l º8ºb,Hzrdìng l º86),orthztscìcntìhctmthcÍzìmszrcnomorcthzu
z
rhctorìæIcntcrgrìscìnwhìchgcnuæìon i u toovcmhcImthcopp

sìtìon (Ltour znd¼ooIgzr l º7º). Ln thìs Izttcrvìw, thc gursuìt
o|
knowIcdgc sccms to commznd ìntcrcst onIy æ z groccss ìnwhìch scì·
cntìstszrc rcgzrdcd æ gìttcd zgzìnstoncznothcr ìnzn "zgonìst hcÍd,¨
IockcdìntozmnstznttrìzIoIrhctorìæstmngth.
Not surgrìsìngIy, znswcrs to thc sccmìngIy ìnnoccnt socìoIogìc
z|
gucstìon, "How ìs truthcrcctcdorzrrìvcdztî" hæ, on thc onc hzu
d
,
bcn ìntcrgrctcdbyccrmncrìtìcæzcìrcumscnbcd, ncutmIdccrìptì
o
0
oIthcgzthwzysgovcrnìngscìcntìhcdìscounc (c.g. , LoIIìnsznd
Fìuc0
l º8Z,LoIIìns l ººZ,Ltour l º87),znd,byothcnæzrcIztìvìstæuIt
o
0
thcscìcntìhccntcrgrìsc (c.g. , Lrouznd Lvìtt l ºº4,LrouctzI. l
ºº
6)
.
1o bcsurc, hìstorìzns (c.g. , LoIìnskì 2005), ghdosoghcn (c.g. , Hz
c
8
ìu
b
THE FALL oF PosiTIVISM 10
3
l
ç
çç
, Kukla 2000) , and sociologists (e.g. , Cole l ºº2) have actively
debated
the merits of such constructivist cae studies. Yet, as discussed
belo
w, the more extreme proponents successflly polarized the science
st
udies
community over the general question of how much of scientifc
t
rth
claims result fom a process of dicove of nature (a a r
e
ist pos­
it
e
d) ,
as
opposed to those claims arising fom a conton of fcts and
t
heories derived not only from apparent sense data, but aso infuenced
(to
va
ring degrees) by incipient cultural values and contingent histori­
@,
p
olitica, and economic developments.
Historicaly, current constructivist arguments take of directly from
t
he p
ositivist progra. In the attempt to characterize the production of
sc
ientifc knowledge, the status of objectivity is obviously centr. In gen­
er
a
l, the constructivist challenges the relist's notion of strict objectivity
and the independent existence that realism pursues. From that position,
the fact/vaue entanglement becomes highly convoluted. At one end of
the spectrum, the adherence to a strict objectivity as the basis of scien­
tifc discourse sets a certain array of governing positivist vaues. Indeed,
the vanishing subject and the view from nowhere idealize this position.
In contrast, those advocating a strong constructivist position recognize
a
host of social and psychological values that play on scientifc discourse
in ways that are highly threatening to an objectivity that is tuned to a
reality simply there to behold or discover. This sociologicaly informed
orientation regards the structure and practice of scientifc institutions,
a
nd the wider political arena in which they fnction, as pang in the
ceaton of objectivity and its various judgments. Whether at the lowet
leel of fct gthering or at the last stages of theor development, the play
of unacknowledged conceptual, linguistic, and psychologica forces are
dee
m
ed important in understanding the process by which science ma
its truth claims.
In the setting of the constructivist assessment of scientifc practice,
positi
vist ideas seem quaint and na"ive. Science, in fact, ha no circum­
s
cribed boundaries, ei ther conceptually (dippi ng i nto the reseroi rs
of
v
ari
ous interpretative genres) or socialy, a the laborator gradually
s
preads into legislative halls, poll booths, newsrooms, courts, schools, and
c
h
urc
hes. Most importantly, reality becomes a "construction, " abeit a
h
i
ghly
successfl one, but hardly fnl or dnbk independent of human
ct
eg
o
ries with all of their irredeemable distortions and arbitrar orni­
ztion.
This disputed interpretation about what science moand what it
10
4
SciENCE AND THE QuET FOR MENING
cptures builds on the philosophical shif that cascded with the fall
of
positivism. Cenainly, those developments opened the door for sci
e
n
c
e
studies to reconfgure long-held belief about the character of an
ep
iste
­
molog riding above the confsion of human values.
When the study of nature and the study of society were seen as inexo­
rably linked-not only interoven in a trivial social sense, but locked
together at their deepest roots-a radically novel picture of scie
n
c
e
emer
g
ed. It make no sense, on this ne vie, to speak of nature (a s
c

ence Cines it) and culture (a historians, philosophers, or sociologist
s
prctice their studies) a independent domains. Needless to say, a fnda­
mentl debate ensued in the wake of this attack on old precepts, for the
ver conception of science had been rdically challenged:
[A}n anthrepeIe@eIknewIcdgc rcmaìnspessìbIc, but ìnstcadeIbcìng
Ü cxpIanateqand unìqìng mcta-thceq, ìt bccemcs thc Iecus eIdìa-
Iegucbcmccn centradìcteq cenccptuaI mmoerks that dctcrmìnc dìI-
Icrcnt medueIdchnìngwhat makabctabct, dìhcrcnt thærìcsand
dìhcrcnt crìtcrìaeIrcIoancc. Lvcn theugh crìtcrìaeItmthL mnctìen
ìnmcheIthuc mmoerks, nesìngIccrìtcrìentravcmaII eIthcm. ln
tcrmseIeurewndìscussìen,ocntheughmchgmch ìtsruIu,thcnìs
neunìqucruIcIerpIayìngwìththcgmcs.(Adan 1 993, 370)
What heretofore was an inquir into the social orgniztion and prac­
tice of science baed on some normative vie of scientifc discover ha
eolved to encompass a sociological account of how scientifc knowledge
is generted and how its validity is established. 1 5 In other words, sociol­
og ha taken on epistemological concerns of what science decribes and
how it does so.
Beginning in the 1 970s, sociologists embracing this constructivist
orientation ofered an alternative formulation to a "internalist" interpre­
tation of science. This older attitude arued that scientifc practice gro
ws
fom local, immanent concerns, that it is subject to and governed by
ratio­
na discoure, and that the world it Cine may be discerned objecti
vely
by the scientifc hypothetico-deductive method (Hempel 1 966) .
The
project to comprehend nature wa thus vieed as esentially logic
al
an
d
self-sufcient. This model of "Science as Rational Kowledge" (Cali
on
1 995) imposed severe constraints on the social orniztion of scienti
f
c
work, and implicitly relied on the relist vie of nature. Scientifc p
r

tice became, fndamentally, a normative exercise, where social infuen
ces
ae minimizd in the pursuit of truth.
THE fALOF POSITMSM lO
S
The spectrum of alternative to the "rtional models" of scientifc prog­
r
ess ha
embrced a strong sociologicl orientation and ha apprpriately
b
een
lab
eled a model of"Science a Sociocultura Practice" (Cion 1 995).
T
o
th
is
school Andre Pickering ascribe no less than "a ne approach to
th
in
kin
g about science . . . insist[ing) that science W interestingly ad
c
onstit
utively social all the wy into its technicl core: scientifc knowledg
it
se
lf h
ad to be undertood a a socia prduct" (Pickering 1 992, 1 ) , ad
p
erhaps ironicaly aping its subject, the sociologica approach is "deter­
minedly empirica and naturistic" ( 1 ). That argument, in its broadest
interpretation, claims that scienc cnnot be segregted fom to levels of
suppon: (a) the subtle ad complex cognitive and linguistic inftructure
in which scientifc prctice is aiculated, and (b) the economic and pliti­
g forces that suppon the myriad activitie of science. In fct, science is
heavily indebted to thee infuences and thus objectivity, the metier of sci­
entifc truth dm,is sen a fmed by various fctor. Studie fom this
school have shown that we cnot undertand "what is" (i.e., the reity a
described by science) indepndently from how that reity is eamined or
p
roducd in the labortor. Thus the constrctivist align themselve wit
the antireaist by auing that knowledg formation is "fltere" thrugh
various conceptual and cognitive sieves, so that the ontological claims
become hopelessly confated with the epistemolog employed to make
truth claims. They discrd positivist objectivity (arrived at by transcen­
dental, timeless norms) and substitute pragmatic, local-relist demands.
For thee constrctivist, objectivity is, in the end, a negtiated agreement
aong intereted panie and holds no singular conceptual idel attribute
that might charcteriz it (Megill 1 994). Accordingy, fct are laden with
both declared and unannounced values, and, correpondingly, scientifc
meth
ods are pragmatic and ristnt to formaliztion, M that no "stem"
c
o
uld
comprhensively (or frly) decribe scientifc method (Feerbend
1
97
5)
or theor deelopment (Kuhn 1 962, 1 970).
Polanyi's emphasis on the cognitive complexity, and irreducibility
of
scie
ntifc thinking lad the groundwork for Feyerbend's more radica
a
ttack
on a singular scientifc method:
Myìntcntìen ìs net te rcpIaccencsct eIgcncraI mIcs byanethcrsuch
wt. Myìntcntìenìs,mthcr,tecenvìnccthcmdcrthatadmnbæ@o,
fC tb� mestebeiemeo�s, bae� tb�irIimiu. Thc bcstway te shew thìs
ìs
te
dcmenstmtcthcIìmìts,cvcnthcìrratìenaIìqeIsemcruIcs,whìch
shc,
erhc, ìsIìkIytegæbæìc. (Fcycmbcnd 1 975, 32; cmphæìsìn
erì
gìnaI)
106 SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
Feyerabend opposed a formal istic schema of rational ity that follow
e
d
some set of rules in an algorithmic or procedurally structured ma
n
ner
that, while conceived as necessar, universal, and atemporal, was
cle
arly
not (Farrell 2003) . Indeed, simply by looki ng at scientifc practice h
e
found it obvious that merely understanding the rles, and even followi ng
them, hardly yielded scientifc truth. Instead, Feyerabend ofered wh
a
t
Roben Farrell cals "tightrope-walking rationaity," strung beteen theo­
retical/abstract traditions and empi rical ones. Inherent in each are a set
of vaues that structure a theor of reason characterized as the context­
balancing of inherently complex, even competing values (Farrell 2003,
1 88f. ). Within the theoretical/abstract tradition, the vaue of compre
­
hensiveness is associated with such concepts as simplicity, generalit,
explanator power, and consistency. The empirical tradition also bring
s
empi rical accuracy to play. To this, Feyerabend adds teastability and
fecundity as completing a quadrivalent set of values to account for ratio
­
nal inquir (Farrell 2003, 203) . Indeed, there is no distinction beteen
the kinds of rationality applied in diferent sectors:
Where distinctions L b made is in the interpretation and weighing of
the values . . . [and] diferential interpretation and weighing of vue is a
ubiquitous afir which j ust Å much distinguishes physic from biolog,
or ninetenth-centur physic from tentieth-centur physic Å it distin­
guishes science fom commonsense. (203)
Note that Feyerabend's ensemble of values are valuts, not rules, and thus
he revealed a false conceit: any notions of methodologica orthodoxy
that might follow from a formula of inquir had been dispelled. Perhaps
"anything goes" (the absence of any rule structure) was hyperbolic, but
he got everone's attention, and rightly so. For our purpose, he move
d
the discussion from formalizd rules to pragmatic appliction of values.
This was a decisive shif.
The dominant theme i n current science studies l iterature ado
pts 8
strate that seek to put the realism question to the side1 6 to ground sci­
entifc belief in the notion of "reasonable practice." By focusing on
p
rac­
tct, these scholars draw scientifc truth fom local realities. Such st
udies
have focused inquiry on the laborator, both the site of experimenta­
tion proper and its broader reaches, to describe the setting from which
fcts emerge. ' 7 We must distinguish loc cse studie from a second se
t
of perhaps more traditiona sociologica approaches, namely, discu
ssing
how such knowledge is propagated (e.g. , Rouse 1 987, 1 25) and
o
f
er
-
THE FALL oF PosiTIVSM 107
i o
g
dcscrìptìens thzt Iocus upen ìnstìtutìeuz| structurcs, pe|ìtìcz| znd
c
c
oue
mìc Izcters dìrcctìng rcsczrch, zs wc|| zs "cu|turz|" znd trzìnìng
j
gctì
ccs eIpreIcuìenz|szndscìcntìsts ìntrzìnìng. 1hcscmemedcs eI
so
cìe|eg
ìcz| ìnguìq, encpccrìngc|esc|yzt |zberzteqprzctìccs znd thc
oth
cr
zt thc ìnstìtutìengcncmtìngscìcntìhcknew|cdgc, zrc |ìnkcd, but
thchntmcuscenthcpreb|cmeIthczutenemeusknewcr,whìchìseur
j

mzqcensìdcmtìenhcrc.
Î ö
1hcncxtchzptcrprevìdcmnhcrdctzì|szbeuthewræsenhzsbccn
t
m
t ìn thcpstpesìtìvìstcm. Ne|engcrdecs thcthcerìst`s"g|ìmpsceI
so
mc
æpcct eIthctmcstructurceIrcz|ìty" cpìtemìzcthcrztìenz|ìtyeI
sc
icncc.Kthcrscìcntìhcmtìenz|ìtyìnve|vcszpreccsbywhìchthcskì||cd
j
rzctìtìencrceæcs uszb|c ebscnztìens te crzh thcerìcs znd "dynzmì-
g|ywerkseutzmercer|cssstzb|cbutz|wzysce|vìngzccemmedztìen
hcmccnthcprevìsìenz|rcsu|tseIthescmecntcrprìscs"(brzndem2004,
4). 1hìs pragmztìc erìcntztìen Ier undcrstzndìngscìcntìhcthìnkìngzs
hnt znd Iercmest greundcd ìn practìcz| |zberateq przctìcc rcgzrds thc
corcìmpenzncceIscìcnccte bcìnìtsprcdìctìvcpewcr,ìnìtscmpìrìce-
|ogìcz|præseImnstmctìngræ|ìty,zndhnz||yìnìtsdcmenstrzb|czbì|-
iqte mznìpu|ztc nzturc Ier tcchne|egìcz| zpp|ìmtìens. Hzrd|yznyenc
wou|ddìsputcthc przctìcz|succcsseIthcscìcntìhccntcrprìsc, but mrì-
oospe|cmìcarìscwhcnthcdìscussìenshìhstehewscìcncc`sthcerctìcz|
c|zìms zrcgreundcd, znd, pcrhzps merc ìmpenzndy, hewzndenwhzt
hæìstezpp|yscìcntìhcknew|cdgc te thcsecìz| wer|d. 1e thcsc mzttcrs
wcnewOØ.
+
The Science Wars
Í/ Íid»«/tksimpenibhteappmacbaoybamopmbhmitbamim )��)mbm.
ÌÍr uJ_ ioabubqaonemaæpat, tb�peioue)eum am�dpmappes�ar�bn»
r� »]iotmst;adcbarmnoimpqeaIao,amn" eb)�me�dneo,seca&d
implies ao�tbuaIbacgaod Rtbotbaoan¬pt teceoæaIpnoophmer�erks
qoit�gimph�d itubmotesmt�tb¬ep¬q,at tb�b�ooiog.
Sìmencdcbuveìr, ¡b�S�ceodS
I f k
n
ow
ledge ìs secìz|, ìI|znguzgc ìsdc|ìmìtìng, ìIhìsterìcz| znd secìz|
IJc
lors
moldthcscìcntìhccntcrprìsc,whztìnthcmcctìngeIthc"mìnd"
,J O
d
"
n
ature" dchncthcrcz|!Ormercmedcsdy,whztzrcthccpìstcme-
l ogical h
ouudzrìcs eIscìcncc ìn thcgucsteIthc rcz|! 1hcznswcrsthzt
··��emerged ìnthcpætIeurdcmdcsprccntìntcrprctztìensthzt,whì|c
dl
lte
re
nt ìuIerm,mnvcrgcenz"m|urc".scìcnccpwscnecscntìz|ìst
J.cf
n
it
i
on,
whìch, zt |czst ìn pzrt zrìscs Irem thcce||zpsc eIrìgìd dìs-
1 1
11
cl
i
o
ns bcmccn bctszndvz|ucs. 5emcsìngu|zrìdcz|ìzcd ebjcctìvìty
' 1 11
d
neu
t
rQ
ìt, |eugcentctcdzndnewdcIcztcd, m|stesztìsqthcc|esc
·
¤i
o
+tìoueIscìcncc`shìsteq,phì|esephy,zndsecìe|e@.Instæd,bcts
·Ì ÎL
u
nde
rs
teedzsmntcxtuz|ìzcdìn thceqermedc|s,whcrcthcyzcguìrc
: ncani
n
g.
þ
cy
end thìs dìmcnsìen, z |zrgcrsczhe|d eIsecìz|, |ìnguìstìc,
¸ '¹hi s
to

c vz|ucmmc,tevzryìngcxtcnt¶thescmedc|s.Accerdìngy,
_ J�£s f
t ìo
te
censtructs threugh thczpp|ìcztìen eIcxp|ìcìtznd ìmp|ìcìt
³
»
ç
:
-
h
oth
ìntrzcurrìcu|zrzndcxtrzcurrìcu|zr te zscìcntìhcgrzmmzr
, ,
n
o
al

r
r
Y
ce
nstrucd.
109
110 SCIENCE AND TE QUET FOR MENING
5ìncczsìmp|cpesìtìvìsm bywhìch scìcncc mìghtbc undcrste
edþ
+
bcemc ìnzdcguztc tedccrìbc thc mcd|cyeIscìcntìhcpmctìccznd
¡
_
¿
meszìceIìts|egìc,thcmcuseIzttcntìenhæshìhcdmmthcphì|esepþ
et
·
:
znz|ytìcz| zttcmpu te chzmctcrìuscìcntìhcdìsmvcqzndvcrìhç

oo
¡
_
enctì|tcdpremìncndytewzrdsznæythztwìnte zount thcsecì
q
|-
e@eIscìcntìhcìnguìq. 5cìcnccstudìchmevcd bcyendzn ìdg
ì
g
d
vìsìen eIscìcntìstsc|eìstcrcd tegcthcr ìn zcemmunìtycxc|usìvc|y
deq
i-
mtcdtethcunprcjudìccdpunuìteItmth,tewudzmnccptìeneIscìe
o
c
r
æìnc|udìngsoìz|punuìunetguz|ìtztìvc|ydìhcnntmmthesc
eIot
þ
ct
secìz| censtc||ztìens. On thìsvìw, scìcncc ìs netsìmp|ygevcrncd by
|:.
ewn ìnncr|egìc.Acsthctìcjudgmcnts,dccpcu|turz| vz|ucs, zndsoci
+| ,
ccenemìc, zndpe|ìtìcz| prcsurccembìncte Ierm z cemp|c mztrìx
ia
whìchscìcntìhcmtìenz|ìqznd mctho8 ìnhucnccd byctmcurrìco|
+
r
c|cmcnts. Wìth ne Ieundztìens, thc |egìc eIscìcncc bccemcs pzno|3
myìngcdìhcc eIvz|uczndpnpctìvc. 1hc se-m||cd dìsunìqeIsci-
cnothcnìsmercthmztepe|e@eIdìhcnntmnoptuz|schcmc,wherr
vzrìeus pznseInzturc zrcdcscrìbcd wìth tcnueuscenncctìens te othct
scìcntìhcdìscìp|ìncs (Ouprc l ººJ, Gz|ìsen znd 5tump l ºº0) . Kther,
dìsunìtychzractcrìusscmct' own rtaon, thccpìstcme|e@eIwhìch |:.
bundzrìcmdìnncrstmcturc,cbìtæm"epcnæchìtoturc."
Wìtheut unìIermmcthede|egìcz|chzrzctcrìstìc, ìnguìqìspushcd
ìn encdìrcctìen erznethcrìnrcpensc tedìvcncdcmznds thzt rcqoir
r
ìntcrprctztìen eIdìhcrcntkìnds, whìch thcn ìnvekc dìhcrcnt kìnds ¤
|
j udgmcnts znd vz|ucs te zdjudìmtc knew|cdgc. At Quìnc`strìbunz|
¤
|
cxpcrìcncc ( l º5Jzl l º0l l l º80) , thesc ìntcrprctztìens Ie||ew bre+d|j
dchncdcpìstcme|egìcz|m|cs.Lhcìvczcceuntscmc@,butthcpìc
tarr
eIscìcncc`s rczsens thcn |eeks, zt |cæt Irem thìsvzntzgc, zs z sczh
¤
|d
wìthgìrdcrswzvìngteandhosundìngtæ|æ thqzccemmedztc
|
|
²
wìnds thzt buhct thcm. A merc censcnztìvc dcpìctìen, encwhìch j
r
r
·
hzps nestz|gìcz||ypccrs ztz |est ìnneccncc, drzw thcb|ucprìnts eIthr
mznìIe|d wìth mercprccìsìen te centzìn thcz||ewcd |ìmìts, te
rcs
tti
ç
|
peer|ydchncd |ztìtudc,zndte ìmpesc IwcrdcgrcceIhoem.
Na:
·

hewccr, thc pìcturc ìsc cntìz||ythc szmc, znd thc bæìc re|ceI·»ª
·
·
cenhgurìngthcstructurcrcmzìn.
1e mpturcscìcncc`sdìsceursc,wc pccrztencpìcturcand thcn |
|
²
ethcrte hnz||ybche|d z dìptych. scìcncc ìn ìts |eæ| (er nczr)

¤
r

sìen ìsgevcrncd byzscteIru|cs, thc |egìceIwhìch zppczrs gcnc
t+
| |
|
uncentcstcd. Hcrc,ebjcctìvìty rcìgns sztìsbcterì|y te rcvcz| "th
c
r
c+
|

THE Sci ENCE WARS I l l
fh
i
s
ìst
hcscìcuccoI thcp
;
zctìcìugscìcutìst,whoscworkcou|duetzbìdc
trr
rot
h|css, rchcxìvccxcrcìscsthztthcphì|osophcrcu¡oys.1hccentrzst-
i
ng j
ìct
urcohcrs z dìhcrcutpcrspcctìvc, bcczusc thcstudcuteIscìcncc
zs
su
m
cs
hcr posìtìou zt z merc dìstzutvzntzgc. írem thcrc, scìcncc's
ft
35OD
zppczrs ìnhucuccd by coutrìbutìeus bcyeudsemc prcdìctzb|c,
o
rde
red
rczseu.1hcscìnc|udcvzrìoussecìz|zudìnstìtutìeuz|ìnhucnccs,
extr
roz|
po|ìtìcz|dcmzuds,psyche|egìcz|c|cmcntssuchæzcsthctìcìmzg-
|
6
atiou,
huzncìz|zndpreIcssìeuz|rczrds,zudseeu. 5tædbsdyheekcd
t
o oatorc, thìs mu|tìdìmcusìenz| rczseu crcztcs zs ìt dìscevcrs rcz|ìty,
[
rr
sru
tìugzcomposìtcbcmccu "nzturc"zud"mìnd"thztceutìnuous|y
ca
m
j
s zgìustthc |ìmìtseIczch. How thzt pìcturchædcvc|epcd ìs thc
s
tudy
oIscìcutìhc zchìcvcmcnt znd thccve|utìeneIhumzn ceuscìeus-
ßt55
whìchu|tìmztc|yzdmìnìstcrsìt.1hcru|cseIgevcrnzncchzvccUìb-
i ted
Dorcstìugdchuìtìenorstczdbstru|cs,sethczctìvìtycz||cd"scìcucc"
coostaudy rcguìrcs crìtìcz| cvz|uztìen te rcvcz| ìts ì uucrwerkìugs, ìts
|aa|tszudwczkcsscs,zudthccrætìvcmzchìnztìens,whìchpreduccthc
·
cirotìhc product. A zphilsophical pursuìt, thìs vìcweIscìcncc p|zccs
it w
el|wìthìn ìts pzrcuts' Io|d. Iudccd, scìcncc studìcs zrrìvcd ztz p|zcc
qu
i
t
e dìhcrcnthomìtsprcdcccssenznd, ìuthztmevcmcut,cucouutcrcd
r
rsistaucc. 1hc ceutrevcrsìcs thzt Ie||ewcd Kuhn'sStctre cvcntuz||y
led tothc5cìcuccW
×
eIthc l ºº0s.
Bate i te Nigt
A thc prcvìeus chzptcrdcscrìbcd, thc mudzmcntz| ìssuc prcoccupyìug
s
ci
ence studìcs hzs bccu thcdcgrccte whìch scìcntìhc hndìugs-Irem
th
eor
to c|cmcutz| bct-zrc censtructcd (Zzmmìte 2004). 1hìs ìssuc
·p+ouc
d thcæìseIthcsecìe|o@oIkow|cdgc, cxtcudìughem crudìtc
p
þ
i|oso
phìcz|znæyscte thcpe|ìtìcz| stzndìugeIscìcuccznd ì ts re|cìn
+
q
jodìcztìngsocìz| gucstìens. Lsscutìz|ìsts mzìntzìu thcpessìbì|ìtyznd
a
o
+|
ytìczdvzutzgceIìdcutìqìngthc uuìguczndìnvzrìzntguæìtìcsthzt
s
e
t
scìcucc zpzrt Irom ethcreccupztìeus zud thus cxp|zì u ìts sìngu|zr
+cþ
ic
vc
mcuts.1husm, IhzvcrcIcrrcdtothìsgreupæthc"dcIcndcneI

ci
en
c," bywhìchI mcznthcystì||he|dtenetìonsthztIe||ewzpesìtìv-
IS
t
ph
ì|osophyeIscìcucc.Leustructìvìsts,z|engzceutìnuumeIcrìtìgucs,

ui
cz||y
dcuyznysuch dcmzrmtìou znd ìustczd mzìntzìn thztscìcucc,
I
. k
e o
th
cr ìutc||cctuz| dìscìp|ìucs, ìscentcxtuz||yceutìugcntzuddrìvcn
"
rtþ
cp
rzgmztìc ìutcrcsts eIìtssuppertìngpe|ìtìcz| cu|turc. 1hìs|zttcr
I ll
SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENING
g
roup dominates the collective of disciplines comprising science stud
i
e
s
,
but it divides into to branches.
The frst branch asumes a more radical postmodern position, wh
e
re
rlativism and ideological bia, a opposed to objectivity and truth, fr
a
me
teir apprasal of science. Allowing for its particular object of stu
dy (
t
he
na
tural world), the radical critic not only see the demarctions that
h
a
d
preiously distinguished science from other conceptual pursuits a
pull­
ing science back fom its distinctive status to dwell among kindred
fcu

tie
, but regrd science's own logic a governed by strong social fcto
rs.
The second, more conserative group embraces a pragmatic, circum­
sribed attitude to argue that science requires a multifocal appreciation a|
it methods and truth claims. Furthermore, while the cnon of scientifc
method ha been replaced with a multiplicity of strategie, and scientifc
prgress follow a pragmatic coure (not some precribed logical path a|
inquir), this group, by and lare, still allows for a lare meure of re
a
­
son and objectivity to reign in the labortor. While both "radicals" and
"cnseratives" might agree that their respective criticisms could hardly
di
minish science's technical accomplishments, their descriptions of t
h
e
relationship of scientifc reason and other kinds of knowing markedly
difer. ' The polemic described in this chapter pit the radics aginst the
defnder, and, in some sense, the conserative constructivists are cugt
in
te middle. They are mfm a discrded positivism, but they seem to
implicitly agree that the thrust of their work is to undertand why knowl­
gacquisition in the sciences is special. This "score crd" of the player
cnfgured in a drmatic contest admittedly crictures the dispute, but
§we proceed to describe the Science Wars, we must distinguish the radi­
g
c
ritic fom those who did not join their rank.
Although largely an academic afir, the repercussions of the con­
tvery reched into many cornerthe judiciar, public polic, educ
­
tio
n, and beyond. Indeed, the scholarly squabble revealed, again, how
te rtionalit governing science is contetable, and hotly so. While
th
e
du
t h settled in some quaner, scrs remain and many wound are sti
ll
ueled. The argument, in its simplet expression, concerned the ch
ar
­
aer of scientifc truth claims, where those holding to a scientifc ralism
fut a defensive battle agnst those who regrded scientifc knowledg
e
§ehibiting various degrees of construction to account for a depiction
o
f
rity. Those battle were specifcally fought over the character of ob
jec­
ti
vit and how reality might be described. In another dimension,
th
e
THE SCIENCE WA 1 1
3
zt
g
u
m
cnt ccntcrcd en thc rc|ztìvc re|cs eIcpìstcmìc znd nencpìstcmìc
v
æu
csìnthcgevcrnìngeIscìcncc.
1hcchz||cngtepndcrthcc|zìmseIthcscìcntìhcvìsìen,neten|yìu
çh
a
g
ct
crìætìeneInzturcbuta ìupnmyz|eIæcìcqzndhumznkìnd,
sj
i||cd
evcrthc berdcrs eIscìcno. 1e bcsurc, thìsdìvìsìvccentrevcny
¤
vcrthcsoìe|@eIkew|cdg(ì.c. , mcvz|uceIscìcno, thcrc|ztìeneI
s
çicu
cc te ìtssuppenìngcu|turc, thcnzturceIscìcntìhcrcæenìng, ctc.)
W
µ p
roìvcdævìu|teìntc||o ìnguìq,gncrz||y. Lensqucnt|y, thc
q
cbztcærìcdevcrteethcrdìscìp|ìnc. In sìmì|æveìo, hìsterìzns (ízy,
Pompcr, zndVmn l ºº8) znd |ìtcrzq crìtìc (Adms znd 5czr|c l º80)
j
itchcd thcmsc|vcs ìnbztdcevcrhìsterìegrzphìm| ìntcgrìtyznddccen-
structìen eItcxts, rcspcctìvc|y. 1huswìth thc rìsceIthìs ncwcrìtìcìsm,
iotc||otcrrìterìcwcnmækdmddìvìdcdnetno|ybydìhcrcnt
zædcmìctmdìtìensmdsubjoeIìnguìq,butmthcrbyhewencrgrdcd
thcchæctcreIknew|m, mtìenz|ìq, mdebjcoìvìq. 1hc crìsìs, bcgun
iophì|eæphy, guìck|ycpzndcdtehìsteqmdsecìe|e@eIscìcncc.
5emc centcmperzqsecìe|egìsts eIthc censtructìvìst czmp scìzcd
thc mznt|c eIzntìrcz|ìsm ìn thcìr secìe|e@ eIknew|cdgc znz|yscs znd
cxtcndcdìtbqendwhztmestmtìræ|ìstphì|esephcrsprebzb|yìntcndcd.
Iremthztrzdìcz|pcnpcctìvc,rc|ztìvìsmcn|zgcdìudemzìntethcpeìnt
thztthcscìcntìhccemmunìty,whìchszwzthrcztte ìtsbzsìcprcccpts,
scnt eut zn z|zrm (He|ten l ººJ, Gress znd Lvìtt l ºº4, Gress ct æ.
l 996, Kess l ºº0, bzrncs, b|eer, znd Hcnq l ºº0, Kecngc l ºº8).And
jostæ mcrcwcrcdìvcncpcnpcctìvcsehcrcd bysecìz| censtructìvìstseI
vzrìeusstrìpc,thcrcbuttz|swcrcsìmì|æ|ys|zntcdtewædsdìhcrcntzgn-
dzs, whcthcr thc zrgumcntwzs peìscd ìn hìsterìm| znd cu|turz| (c.g. ,
He|ten l ººJ) , secìe|egìcz| (c.g. , Le|c l ºº2) , er phì|esephìcz| tcrms
|c.g. ,Ludzn l ºº0z).
It ìsteeær|ytejudgc mcm||mìhmtìenseIthìsdcbztcznd8C
thc prepcr zpp|ìcztìen eIthc vzrìeus brznds eIsecìz| censtructìvìsm,
th
ztìs,thcctcnteIsecìz|ìnhucnccìndctcrmìnìngcemmunz|scìcntìhc
knew|cdgczndthccenstmìntseImccmpìrìcz|wer|dencegnìtìvc rc|z-
tìv
ìsm. butwhztnmzìns mest zppæ|ìngzbeut scìcncc studìc, ìIzgcn-
crz|ìætìenìstebmzdc,ìsmcbzrbcdcrìtìguceIwhztHzrqLe||ìnshæ
c
z||cdmc"cthneccntrìsmeIthcprccnt,"thzt ìs, mcIo|ìngthzt"new"
|zs eppescd te thcpzst) wc hzvc hnzI|yzchìccd scìcntìhc "mzturìty"
zndhzvczmcthedzndzwer|dvìcwthztzpprezchcssemcíìnz|1hceq
|scc Wcìnbcrg l ºº2 Ierzn cxzmp|c eIsuch z thceq) . 1hcskcptìcìsm
1 1
4
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
rcgrdìngunìvcrsz|zndunchz||cngcd medcseIzsscssìngscìcntìhc
sta
te-
mcnts, erIerdìstìnguìshìngbcmccn ìntrìnsìcz||yscìcntìhcznd neo
s
ci-
cntìhcrcsczrchpregrzms,hzsbccnIerccm||yrcìtcrztcdbyrcccntscìc
o
c
c
studìcs,whìchin toto sccm teshzrcdeubt thztencsìngu|zr,rztìen
z|
s
ci-
cntìhcmcthede|e@hæhnz||yzrrìvcd.
1hìs crìtìcz| pesìtìen,encsuppertcd bybeth phì|esephìcz|zn
dhis-
terìcz|znz|yscs, hzrd|ysccms nevc|. mcrz||,skcptìcìsm Ierms thcvc
0
Ieundztìen eIrcsczrch przctìcc, zncthes thzt hæ ru|cd scìcncc sìn
cc
i t:
bìrth. Kcccnt secìe|egìca| studìcs hzvc rcìtcrztcd thzt mcszgc but
pet-
hzps hzvc Iermu|ztcd ìt ìn z merc cemp|cx znd merc tcxturcd mz
no
et
thzn prcvìeus|y zpprccìztcd (Gìcqn l ºº5). Whzt sccms nw zrc tþ
c
zngq rcbuttz|s Irem scìcnccdcIcndcrs, whe pcrccìvc thzt censtructìv-
ìstcrìtìcìsmhæ heìstcd thcbznncreIrc|ztìvìsm evcrscìcncc (Gress
zoq
Lvìtt l ºº4, Lìtt l ººº).1hcyrcgrdthcdchnìtìeneIscìcnccæbcìog
zt stzkc, zs wc|| zs thc dchnìtìen eItruth ìtsc|I. Ad thcyzskwhzt i s
rcz| ìIse much ìscentìngcnt. Lcd byFzu| GresszndNermzn Lcvìtt,
thcscscìcnccdcIcndcnhzvcehcnmìsrcprcscntcdznddìstertcdthccoo-
structìvìst pesìtìen (c.g. , Wcnd|ìng l ºº0,1zubcr2000). Futtìngzsì
q
c
dìstìnctìensbcmccn "wczk"znd"streng"IermseIsecìz|censtructìvìsm
zndthcvzrìeuspcrmutztìenszdeptcdz|engræ|ìstlætìræ|ìst,cerrcspoo-
dcncclcehcrcncc, znd Ieundztìenz|ìstIzntìIeundztìenæìst|ìnc, thccoo-
structìvìstsìmp|yhe|dsthztsemccmpìrìcz| truths zrcpzrt|ycenstìtutc
q
bycu|turæ bc|ìch. Kcz|ìty ìnc|udcs thccntìrc phcnemcnæ wer|d, bot
þ
thccmpìrìcz| zndthcsecìz|, znd, ìn thc cnd, hewwc c|æsìq ræ|ìtyìs3
secìz| mzttcr. 1hcìssucthcn bccemc, "whìchap�a eIræ|ìqzrcsecìæ,
th� t�� to which thcyzrcsecìz|, znd th� tmt to which thcyczn b
c
chzngcdsecìz||y" (Wcnd|ìng l ºº0,425).
5ethcevcmrchìngguctìenteækeIthcsoìz|censtmctìvìstìstewhat
dgroscìcnccpmctìcc,æsoìz||ydctcrmìncd,z||ewìumnrqmlwerkto
bcenstmctcd mmcxtmcurrìcu|zrseuro (ì.c.,thesc thzt8 mnstrum
æ euuìdc scìcntìhc thìnkìngægncra||yundcntod hem æ ìntcrn
z|ìst
pnpctìvc)!Inethcrwerds,tewhztdgdescìcntìhcthmrìc,hyp
e
g
·
C, ccn bcts, rchcct thc ìnhucncceIsecìctz| merc, cxpotìens, ¤
¤
undcr|yìngcu|turz| structurc, æ eppescd te thccxprcsìenseIscìcntìh
c
cprìcnothztzrcdcpcndcntenzrhcterìceImmmen|ægu@!'
1hczrmìcsjeìncdìnthc5cìcnccWzndìsp|zycdvecìIcreuszppctìtc
s
Ier thccenhìct. 1hc scìcnccstudìcs sche|zrs c|zìmcd thzt "thc hìsteq·
phì|esephy, znd secìe|e@eIscìcncc sheu|d net bccntrustcd tepm
ctì

THE SCI ENCE WA 1 1
5
i
o
g
scìcn
tìsts" (Lynch l ººJ, 268). Accerdìng|y, whì|cscìcntìsts ehcrcd
c
tu
cìU
sc|I-penrzìts zndcyc wìtncsszcceunts, thcscwcrc net gcncra||y
t
c
þ
tdcdzssumcìcnt|ysephìstìmtcderdctzchcdtezchìcvcznznz|ysìseI
di
sce
vcq,thceqIermztìen,mcthede|e@,scìcntìhcprzctìcc,zndseen.
[
h
csc |zttcrchemrcguìrcd z rchcxìvc stzncc, z pcrspcctìvz| "dìstzncc."
_
o
th
c
ethcrsìdc, dcIcndcrseIscìcnccdccrìcd thc pestmedcrn tcncts
h
c|d by
thcìr eppencnts, whesc zttzcks en thc cìtzdc| eIKczsen znd
[tuth
wcrctzntzmeunttedìsmznt|ìngthcgrcztcstcu|turzIzchìcvcmcnt
»
|
W
cstcrn secìctìcs.1husmcz||cgcddìstznccthcmezt, ìIyeuwì||~
scj
atztìngthcscìcnccstudìcsche|zrzndscìcntìstW czsì|ycresscd,znd
µ
hco thcwz||s eIthc|zberzteqwcrcbrczchcd, hznd-te-hznd cembzt
cosucd (Gress ctz|. l ºº0,Kess l ºº0,Hzzck l ºº8,brewn200l ). Lìtt|c
asc|u| ìntcrchzngc eccurrcd. In z scnsc, thc crìtìc czmc te z pzp te
µ
hìch thqwcrcnetìnvìtcd,zndenccthcrc,thcyweu|dnet|czvc.
Thc dìscussìen en beth sìdcs wzs demìnztcd by rhcterìcz| hypcr-
a
»
|:,Iercxzmp|c. "1hcrc ìsnegddcs, 1ruth, eIwhemzmdcmìcznd
tcsmrchcnC rgdmcmsc|vcæprìcuerdcetæ"(Hæ| l º87~l º88,
l
08) . 1hcdcIcnsc rcpendcdwìthìmpæìencdzndsemctìmcsstrìdcnt
tcbuttz|, Ier ìnstzncc, "Itìsdewnrìghtìndcccnt Ierencwhedcnìgrztc
thcìmpemoerdcnìcthcpuìbì|ìqeIhenctìnguìqtemzkchìs|ìv-
iogæzn zmdcmìc" (Hzzck l ºº0, 60), se enc weu|dj ustìhzb|ybznìsh
sach"cu|mm|gbzgc" pmpundmbyzmdcmìc"s|ebs"zndmcìrm||cc-
tivc
"
gg
"
(bungc l ºº6, l l 0, º0, º7) . 1zkìng thcse|cpreprìctenhìp
oohencqmu|dnetIestcrdìscuuìen, much |c z rce|utìen.1hczcrì-
mooygìn l ºº0wìthmc5ek|Heæ(LìtenLing Franca 2000).
Aa Sek,zphyìcìst,wmtcwhzthcmeughtcenstìtutcdzpzroyeImc
t+dìæeppesìtìen`sveìcczndsubmìttcd thcpzpcrtezrcpcctcdcrìtìcz|
joutoz|(Sod/ Tt), whesccdìtenpub|ìshcdìt,ìgnemnteImcrìdìcu|ìng
iotcnt(5ek| l ºº6).5ek|shewcdz||centctznumcvu|ncmbì|ìtìceImc
0
otceut|zndìshcrìtìgucznd,ztthcmmc tìmc, pìntcd te mc nccd Ier
so
mcmmmengrcundIerhenctdcbztc(5ekz|2008).'
1hcì ndìctmcnt wzs c|czr. 1hc rzdìcz| secìz| censtructìvìst steed
+c
cu
scd eIzrguìngz dzmnìng rc|ztìvìst pesìtìen. zccerdìngte rzdìca|
coo
str
uctìvìsm,bcyend thc usurpztìen eIcemmen |znguzgczndpub|ìc
=tc
gerìcstedccrìbcnzturc,thcscìcntìstmznubcturcthcerìcshemthc
s
o

z|
rcsìduzeIhìshìddcnprcjudìcczndprcIermcdsecìz|censcìeusncss
s
o
th
zt thc cenccptuz| preduct ìsen|y thcsecìz| wer|d pertrzycd ìn z
dìh
crcnt,z|bcìt "nztura|," guìsc. (íercxzmp|cs eIthìs vìw, scc Le||ìns
1 16
SCIENCE AND THE QuE FOR MENING
l ºº2,Hzrdìng l º86,zndHzrzwzy l º8ºz, l º8ºb.) ln etbcrwer
ds,I
a
n
.
guzgc ìsse ìmbucdwìtb tbcsecìzI censtructìen eIræIìtytbztscìcn
tìst
s
mnnetIcgìtìmztcIyscpzmtcscìcntìhchctshemtbcìrsuppenìngcu|tq
,_
mìIìcu. íurtbcr, semc rzdìczI censtructìvìsts Iìkc5tccWeeIgr ( l º
8
¿
¡
·
l º88b)cxtcndcdtbczgumcntbycentcndìngtbztscìcnccU zrztìon
_
·
ìqdcsìgncd Ier ìtsewn bcgcmenìccn±znd tbmweuIdcnIìstz r
z

@
scII-rchæìvcsecìe|e@æpzneIzm-rczcbìngìdceIegìmIbztdcevcr
the
vcqnzturceIknewIcdgcìtscII.lndccd,tbcsecìzIcenscgucnoweu|d
b
e
rce|utìenzq, puìbIyscìsmìc,ìItbcmdìczIssuocdcd ìn htzIIyun
dct
·
mìnìngtbctctìmenyeIeb¡cctìvc scìcno (Abmerc l º8º). 1bcymì
g
¡
bcæìIydìsmìsscdægzneIzmerccemp|æìdceIegìmIgmgmwìthìa
wbìcb scìcnccìn tbc nzmceIsemc bìgbcrmerzI vìsìen¬bcmm
caa
eb¡ccttebcdìsmzndcd. butccntbescmerccìrcumsgcctzbeuttbczbì|-
ìqtedchncscìcntìhcìnguìqzndtbcruIc tbztgvcrn ìt,ærncdzngq
rcpensc hem tbescwbe r@dcdzttzckentbc"scìcntìhcmctbed" 8
brækìngr wìtb rztìenzIdìsceunc.
Kc¡eìndcrsrcgrìmznd.scìcncci succcumI,zndtecenhztctbccon-
tcxtuzIìtycIknew|cdgcwìtb tbccemgremìsceIìtseb¡coìvìtyìstedcny
tbc ebvìeus zccempIìsbmcnts eIscìcntìhc mctbed. Ne deubtscìcntìhc
eb¡cctìvìtydcgcnds ìn pznen ìts centcxtuzIìq, but tbzt ìs net te dcny
ìu grevcn strcngtbs eIvcrìhmtìen, cebcrcncc, znd grcdìctzbìIìty, cvcn
wìtbìn tbc IeczI centcxt eIscìcntìhc ìnguìq. 5e,wbìIczcknew|cdgìng
tbzt secìzI hcters de ìndccd pIzyzn ìmgenznt reIc, wc must net|osc
sìgbteIbewscìcncc Iecks ente nzturc,ehcrìng mczns Ier mznìpu|a-
tìen znd pewcrmI prcdìctìen. 5cìcnccehcrs nezrbìtrzqdcscrìptìon,
zndwìtbìn ìtsIeczI demzìn, scìcntìhcìnvctìgtìenscncæ zn ìmpot-
tznt Iìmìttcrc|ztìvìsttbìnkìng. Lcnzìn|y, wbìIcscìcntìsu mìgbt cbeosc
zmengvzrìeus rcsczrcb pregrzms bywbzt mzybc¡ udgcd æ "ìdce|og-
ìczI" (c.g. , 1zubcr znd 5zrkr l ººZ, l ºº3, Lwentìn l ºº l ) , er "zcs-
tbctìc,"crìtcrìz (scc Kubn l º70 znd tbc rcsgcctìvccsszys byMzrge|ìs,
McIIìstcr, znd 5zrkzr ìn 1zubcr l ºº6b) , er cvcn æ z censcgucncco
|
trìvìzI egtìens dìctztcd by dìscìgIìnzq trzdìtìens cr cemmìtmcnt to
brezdcr secìzI cenccrns, tbesc dctcrmì nznts bzrdIy gzìnszy tbc
we
tk
eb¡cctìvìtygcrIerms. (1bìs pesìtìen rcgrcscnts tbc bæìcepìnìeneI
tb
c
"censcnztìvc"censtmctìvìstsìdcntìhcdzbevc.)
Mznyæpccts eItbccentrevcrsydcscnc mnbcrscrutìny, but
en
c
ìuuc ìn pznìcuIzr bìgbIìgbutbcscII-cenhdcntcnmusìæmeIsemc
rz
dì-
mIscìcncccrìtìc.ltìsenctbìngIersecìe|egìsuzndbìsterìznseIcen
tcm·
THE SCI ENCE WAR 1 1
7
p
o
r
a
r
science to obtain fcts and to attempt analysis by means that have
pro
ven
so successfl in the natural sciences. This may be a legitimate proj­
ec
t, b
ut a not-too-subtle inversion takes place when, rather than applying
n
a
tural
scientifc method to social analysis, the historical or sociologic
s
tudy
becomes integral to science itself, or at least is perceived as such
¡
ç
¸
g
, , Soderqvist 1 997 and critiqued by Tauber 1 999b) .4 The boundar
b
et
een science and its study then becomes hopelessly blurred: " [We] see
t
he
so
ciolog of scientifc knowledge as pan of the prjec ofsdmce itel
an attempt to understand science in the idiom of science" (Barnes, Bloor,
and
Henr 1 996, x; emphasis added).
To be sure, at one level, these critic assened their methodologica
l
eitimac a social scientists (i.e., using the "idiom" of science and thereby
"honour[ing] science by imitation" [Barnes, Bloor, and Henr 1 996, x] ). 5
At another leel, they did more than ape scientifc method in the project
»
|undertanding science, for thee sociologists maintained that the were
ç
agagcJ in the "project of science" itelf, which must include the study
»
|human or
g
aniztion and behavior. Science then, extends beyond the
examination of the natural world to include culture studies and, recip­
rcally, the unique standing of the scientifc endeavor is now open to
o
t
her kinds of analysis that i ncludes sociologica or historic comment.
||the net is cast wide enough, the entire enterprise becomes one piece.
The strcture of knowledge then ha no boundarie or subdivisions, and
histor and sociolog have extended their own imperialistic ambitions to
include science itself within their own bailiwick. The implicit challenge
is over the ver defnition of science, which no longer, fom this point of
vie, C clam any autonomy.
If the traditional intemalist undertanding is invoked, scientist in the
laborator do science, where those who repon on science do so fm the
outside (i. e. , externalists) , whether it is a sociologist, historian, or phi­
l
osopher. But this deignation breaks down when the notion of scientifc
knowledg and the mode by which it is obtained are perceived a esen­
ti
ally no diferent fom other forms of human understanding. This per­
sp
ective is now widely held in science studies. Some rerd the isue a a
i
nstanc of simple plitic, for eample, "Science itelfis not SCIENTIFIC
except i n so far as it represents itself as such" (Woolgar 1 988a, 1 07;
e
mphais in original). This position rets on what Lrr Ludan refers to
Æ
an epistemological conceit: with the emergnce and eentu triumph of
t
he
flibilistic perspective in epistemolog, it becme generally accepted
u8 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
thztscìcuccehcnuezpedìctìcccnzìuty,zudthusz||scìcntìhcthc
erì
o
a
r
e
petcutìz||ycerrìgìb|czndsub¡ccttescrìeuscmcudztìen.OnccthcIeon
g

tìens hzvcbccn shzkcn, thcstrzìght |ìncdrzwn bcmccn knew|c
dg
ca
n
d
epìnìen bcgìns te mczndcr. Adwìtheut hrm dcmzrmtìen crìtcrìz, d
i

tìnguìshìngscìcno mm nenscìcno bcemc preb|cmztìc zndz||e
wt
h
e
rc|ztìvìst te dcmznd nwcrìtcrìzerdìspc| thczutherìtyeIthce|d s
tan
­
dzrd. Wìthìn thìs b||ìbì|ìstìcIrzmwerk, scìcntìhc bc|ìcIthcn turuso
ut
tebzspìceIepìnìen(Ludzn l ºº0,2l J).º IIenczdeputhìsg
cuct¿
erìcnutìen, thc scpzmtìen eIebscncrhem hìs erhcrebjccteIstudy-
whcthcrscìcnoerhìsteq¬mzybcæì|yb|urrcd znd thc psìtìvìst pro­
g cmmb|cz||thcwzydewnteìuvcqmundztìen.
The Char of Rn
1hczrgmcntsztthcccntcreIthc5cìcnccWzngewc||bcyendchzr+c-
tcrìzìngscìcnccæzIermeIknew|cdg. Mznypcrccìvcthztthc8u|t of
mntcmperzqscìcn�studìcsìsnet enIyenzpesìtìvìstvìsìeneIscìcu
p
,
but, merc dccp|y, en thc chzrzctcr eIrczsen ìtsc|I(We||gr l º88z) . If
thc mtìenæìtyupenwhìch scìcncc`scntcrprìscìsbzscd bccemcs z Iecos
eIchæ|cngc, thczgumcnthæ mevcdwc|| bcyend thctradìtìenz|qocs-
tìensìnphì|esephyeIscìcncc. íercxzmp|c,suchquctìensæ,"1ewh+t
ctcnt mzyscìcncc mæìtstruth c|zìms!"er"bywhztcrìtcrìz zrcwcto
judgc ìts zvewæs eIrztìenz|ìty znd ebjcctìvìty!" trzdìtìenæ|yzssumcd
rcæen`s zutenemy. 1hc ncw crìtìqucs de net, znd ratìenæìty ìtsc|Ihæ
nec cntìz|structurcunìguctescìcntìhcprzctìcc.
Scìcncc may bc cempIcx, thcy say, but ìt ìs stìII "ratìenaI . " New thc
werd "ratìenaI" can bc uscd cìthcrÅ a ceIIcctìng bag Ier avarìctyeI
prmumthìsweuId b ìtsnemìnaIìst ìntcrprctatìen¬rìtducrìb
agncræ ImtunIeundìnocqsìngIc æìcntìhc actìen. lacccptthc hnt
dchnìtìen,butl njcctthcsccend. lnthcmndL mtìenaIìqìscìthcr
dchncdìnanarmwwaythatcxcIudu,my,thcM} thcn ìta cxcIudu
IargcsotìenseIthcscìcncu. OrìtìsdchncdìnawaythatIctsaleIscì-
cnccsu~ìvc, thcn ìtaIseappIìcsteIevc-makìng,cemcdy,andde@ghu.
ThcrcìsnewayeIdcIìmìtìng"scìcncc"bysemcthìngstmngcrandmerc
cehcrcntt aIìst. (Fcycrabnd 1 975, 246)
1erccegnìuthztscìcncc |urchcIemrdbym|csncìthcrrìgìd|yIer-
mæ nerncccsszrì|y|egìca| nerìnsu|zrte ìts nzrrew ìntcrcsts IerIcìtszu
e|dcenccìtzndìnstczdcmbrzcczmerccemprchcnsìvcundcntzndìnge|
THE SCIENCE wA 1 1
9
t
h
i
s
com
p|cxzctìvìty(ícycrzbcnd I º75). Accordìng|y, suchcìrcumspcct
>
sc
ssm
cntseIscìcncc'szpproprìztcìntc||cctuzI c|zìmsznd thcpewcroI
i
ts
visìon (noton|yeInzturc,buteIsocìctyzndoursc|vcs) cnuncìztcsz
g
o
tchoncstzpprzìszI. Frzgmztìsm ru|cs.
þydchnìngscìcntìhc rcæen ìn zcenstructìvìst Iermu|ztìen,whcrc
t
hc
cz|c
u|us eIvæuccxpIìcìtIyhgurcs ìn ìtsepcrztìens, me schcmzs eI
tc
æon,ìndìz|cctìcz|ìntcrp|zy,prcscntthcmsc|vcs umnítrzndsocil.
( l ) Oìscunìvc rcæen ìs Iermu|ztcdwìthìnz |engphì|osophìca| trz-
dition, ìn whìch mtìenæìqznd zdvznccmcnteIscìcnccewc m |css to
a
con
hdcnt rc|ìzncc en dztz, mctheds, znd wzrrznts thzn te thc sc|I-
do
obtìng5ecmtìc "dìz|cctìceIìntcrregtìen"tewhìch bctszndthcerìcs
atc rcgu|zr|y subjcctcd (íìsch 2000). Inmpzb|c (æz mzttcr eI|ogìc) oI
ob¡cctìvc|ycenhrmìngthcìr cheru, |ct æenceIpmtíng thcm, thcscìcn-
tistC, ìnprìncìp|c,beætnemercthzntehzvcprudcnt|ysubjcctcdhcr
worktethcmostthereughtcuzvaì|zb|c.1hztkew|cdgcìsìncemp|ctc
aod mustbcscrutìnìud threugh thc |cnseIskcptìcìsm rcmzìn thc kcy
j
tcccptseIcrìtìcæìnvcstìgtìeneIz|| kìnds.
«
1hìscpìstcme|o@scncscìcnccæìtdìdphì|esephyhemìuczr|ìct
awzkcnìng. 5ecrztcsspccìhcæ|ycentrætcd such ræenìngte rcvc|ztìon
aodopìnìen. bycnd|cssìntcrregtìen,hcdrevchìsìntcr|ecuters te bcc
thcìrcomp|zccntæsumptìens znd |æybc|ìch. Hc thuscstzb|ìshcd thc
bæìcdcmzndeIphì|esephìcæ ìnguìq. íæ|ìbì|ìqìs thc|ìnchpìneIthc
cotìrccntcrprìsc,IorthcbedyeIkew|cdgcìsæsumcdtebcìncomp|ctc,
ì|not ìncrror (Feppcr I º0J, 228h. ). '1hc pcrIcctìenìsmoIcnd|csscrì-
tìqucprevìdcthcscìcntìstwìththcbæìcvzIuceIìnguìq,zvz|ucwhìch
b
ìnds scìcncc te ìts phì|esephìczI zntcccdcnts. Oeubt znd skcptìcìsm
tcmzìn thcmrdìnævìnucseIscìcntìhcthceqæwc||zsundcr|yìngìts
v
zrìousmodcseIpreeI
Ocrìvcd Irem thìs sc|I-crìtìcæ Ieundztìon, scìcncc dcvc|opcd vz|ucs
th
ztscckte|cgìtìmztcìntcrprcutìenbypzrsìmeny,cehcrcncc,zndprcdìc-
tìvcmpzcìtìc.Andsuccc ìsæbymen-gìngmtìenz|crìtìcìsm.
LntcmnìngadeubtaddupteIìttIcmenthanappIyìngaquætìenmark,
ermìsìngenc'sqbrew,wrìeuscrìtìcìsm,bycentmt,rcquìræbshìenìng
ana@umcnt.Tcdeubtìstesusptæmcthìngmìghtbmm,tccrìtìcìu
ìstea
q
thatìtìs.SkcptìmIdìsccumrpuìræasuppIyeIìntcrregtìvæ,
crìtìcaI dìsceursc rcquìrcs rìch backgreund knewIcdgc and adcvcIepcd
|egìceIpmbIcm-scckìngand seIvìng. Crìtìcìsm nCìIyprcsuppescs
deubt,butìsa anoprcnquìsìtcmrpsìtìvcactìen.lnthcfc eI
1 10
SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
suspected imperfection the frst step toward improvement will alw
ys
be
criticl. Hence the term "constructive skepticism." (Fisch 2006)
Ktìenz|ìtyenthìsvìcwbccemcszmtcgeqeIzctìen,zmcznste
cx
p
q
\
ç
zndse|vcpreb|cms,zndzmcthedbywhìchìnguìqmìghtgugcìt
s
s
u
r
¸
osserbì|urcædctcrmìncdbyzbrezdcrscteIgez|szndstzndzrds.
T
h
i
s
ìnstrumcntz|guz|ìtyeIrztìenz|ìtyepcnsthcìnguìq'sImmceIrcIcrc
o
c
_

1hc|ecz| preb|cm ìssct ìn z centcxt thzt ìtsc|Ihzs zn erìcntztìen, a

|
eI|zrgcr ìssuc thztcenIcrdìrcctìentethcmerc|ecæ ìnvcstìgtìen. I
o
_
scnsc,thccrìtìcz|pesìtìenìsebtzìncdbystzndìngeuuìdcthc|ecz|
Irz
0
c-
werk,wìthpcrsìstcntrcIcrcnccte|ecz|strìcturc.
1hìs dcscrìptìen, whìch zppczrs ìmmìncnt|ycrcdìb|c, he|ds sway
zmeng thesc whe hepc te szvc scìcncc's ewn |egìc ìn tcrms thzt |
¤
l -
|ewsemcgcncrz| ru|cseIepcrztìen. Indccd, cvcn ícycrzbcnd'scrìtìqu
ç
ìnvekcs z medc eIundcrstzndìngrztìenz|ìty by dcscrìbìngìts guìdiog
w|uc, znd thztchensucts neten|ythzthcW netæ mdìcz| ¾ h
ç
|ìkcd te pesturc (ízrrc|| 200J), but thzt hìs tcmpcrcdzgumcntehcteq
z tcmp|ztc ìn whìch te undcrstznd thc rczsen eIscìcncc. mcrz||, sci-
cncc werks, zndwcweu|d dewc|| te undcrstzndwhy|1hc scìcntìhc
cntcrprìsc ìscemmìttcd te z kìndeIvcrìhmtìen netIeund (znd usuæ|y
unzttzìnzb|c) ìnethcrdemzìnseIknew|cdgc. Ocpìtcthcebvìeussoc-
ccsscs thzt rc|yen thìs c|zìm,ebjcctìvìtyæ undcnteed ìn thcscìcntìhc
centcxtrcstsenz cemp|cx phì|esephìcz| Ieundztìen thzt rcmzìnscoo-
tcntìeus. 1hìs ìsz hìgh|y cemp|cx ìssuc, but ìn ìtssìmp|ctIermu|ztì
¤
o,
thczrgumcntcenccrnshewcrìtcrìzzrc chescn Iersucccsm| prcdìctì
¤o
zndvcrìhmtìen. 8
(2) In centrætte"dìscursìvcræen,""secìz|ræen"hæ|ædc|zìmt¤
zmnstc||ztìeneIscìcntìhcprzctìccæcontttvt tescìcntìhcræenìog,
whesc ìntc||cctuz| dìmcnsìensmnnetbscpzrztcd hem thc m|| centct
eIscìcncc ìn zctìen, wìth z|| thzt such z cenccptìen cntzì|s. 5cìcnccß
"secìæ" bccemcztrìvìz|ebscnztìen ìnthcscnscthztscìcnccæznìnsti
·
tutìen ìssocil, æ zrcz|| ce||cctìvc humzn zctìvìtìcs. butte cz|| scìcnc
e
"secìz|" æzsytcmeIknew|cdg,whìchìssocUy contd chz||cngÞ
stzndzrds eIebjcctìvìty znd scìcntìhc mcthed thzt hzvc rcseundcd
Io
t
gcncmtìens.
A z|rczdydìscusscd,secìz|censtructìvìsmhævzqìngmænìng¤¤
zpp|ìcztìens, but z|| cenIcss te z vìsìen eIscìcntìhcprzctìcc zs hzrd|)
vz|uc-ncutrz| . 1hus, ìnstczd eIrìdìngzbevc thc trìbu|ztìens eIse
cìa|
ìntcrceursc, scìcntìsts zrc sccn zs cnggcd ìn prejccts, whìch drzw he
m
THE SCIENCE WA 111
ra
n
y
|ìn
guìstìczndcenccptuz| (cu|turz|,hìsterìcz|,phì|esephìcz|,secìe-
gç| it
i
m)
rcscneìrs, en|y enc eIwhìch ìs "nzturc. " Indccd, rcz|ìtyen|y
c
m
c
tg
cs
zs z mnctìen eIhewìtìs rcvcz|cd by thc humzn mìnd znd ìts
a[
[
a
g
t
uscs-tcchnìcz|,cenccptuz|,an secìz|.
Onznhìsterìcìstzcceunt,scìcncctedzy,rc|ztìvcteycstcrdzy,dcpìcu
a
di
hcrcntvìweIthcwer|d,zndìnthcrcceuntìngeIhewscìcnccztzny
gi
ven stz
gc mzdc ìts truth c|zìms,wcwìtncss hewcrìtcrìzeIvcrìsìmì|ì-
t
a
dchzvcundcrgencchzngc,znd,nztum||y,thcscìcntìhcthmrìczrìsìng
|r¤
m
thescstzndzrds. "1ruth" thcn ìsz mevìngtzrgct, z cztcgeq thzt
hc|p
sergznìuthcìnvcstìgtìvccndczver,butnecrìtcrìzzvzì|thcmsc|vcs
|
¤
tap
pmxìmztìnghewc|esccurrcntthcerìcszrc tesemc hnz| vìsìen. II
this ìsrc|ztìvìsm, thcn ìtìsen|yìntcrcstìngzsz secìe|egìcz| dcpìctìen,
6
amc|y, rcz|ìq |eek dìhcrcnt new, zs eppescd te thcn (zswc|| zs dìI-
|crcnt Irem hcrc zs eppescd te thcrc) . Acccptìngsuch z rc|ztìvìst pesì-
tion decs netz||ewthcdìsmìssz|eIscìcntìhcknew|cdgcæsemchewzn
atbìtrzqcenstructìenerthztrcz|ìtyìsonl zcenstruct. IIthcrc|ztìvìstìs
c
¤
ohdcnttegeupìnznzìrp|zncersubjccthìmsc|Iteepcnhcznsugq,
then dcbunkìngscìcnccæzccnstruct(zndthussemchewzrbìtmq)æn-

tbchìsgmc. Hcænnetbcszyìngthztscìcnccprevìdcæ "truthm|"
apìcturceInzturcìn2008zs ìtdìd ìn l 008. Kthcr, hche|dste z pìc-
tatceItruththztìsthcbcstcenscnsuz|zpprexìmztìentesemcunkewn
idcz| zndthcmestprzgmztìcæ|yuscm| ìnstrumcnt Iervzrìeusvcnturc,
agzìn zs dctcrmìncd by thcgreup`s ewn netìens eIhumzn heurìshìng
|Lteur l ººº).Accerdìng|y,czchcmhe|dsrcz|ìtywìthìnìtsewncu|turz|
momcnt,zndthztschcmcchzngcswìthtìmc.
IIchzngcznd unccnzìnqzrc ìmp|ìcìt tewhztwc zsccrtzìn zs "thc
t
=|,"thcnnercstìngp|zcccxìsts,nehnz|thceq,zndeIceursc,necem-
p|z
ccncy. 1hìs zttìtudc erìgìnztcs ìn thc bìrth eIphì|esephy, nzmc|y
Socrztìc rczsen,whescìntcrregztìen ìscczsc|css. A wc swìngbcmccn
dìscursìvczndsecìz| rczsen, wc nccd netcheescencevcrthcethcr, Ier
czch rcIrzcts thc scìcntìhccntcrprìsczccurztc|y Irem ìts ewn pesìtìen.
T
hc trìckìstehndthcìrzccemmedztìen teczch ethcr, znd u|tìmztc|y,
t
þ
cìrunìen.Yctzgu|Isccmstescpzrztcthcsc undcr|yìngnetìenseIrcz-
so
n.
whì|cczch schee| mìghtzgrcc thzt scìcncc grews, thc |cssen te bc
|czrncdìshow ìtdcc|eps.
Oìscursìvc rczsen zrgucs Irem zn "ìntcrnz|ìst" Iermu|ztìen-scì-
cutìhcthìnkng Ie||ews semc ìntcrnz| |egìc-whì|csecìz| rczsen mzìn-
tzìnsthztsuch|egìcìsneten|yìmpeuìb|ctedcmenstrztc, butz|sebì|s
111 SCIENCE AOTE QUET FOR MENING
te m|h|| ìts 0RR zspìrztìens. Irenìcz||y, thcsc zsscrtìens tzkc dìscu
rsìv
c
ræenteìuewn|egìcz|cnd,whcrcznepcn-cndcdprecc C en|y
p
ro
-
vìdcznethcrgucstìen drìvcn by thc prcsumcd m|ìbìIìtyeIthc pes
ìtìo
o
currcnt|y hc|d. Indccd, I denetrcgrdthccenstmctìvìst(cvcn rc|ztìvìst)
pesìtìen se ìntcrcstìngæ cìthcrzn cpìstcmeIegìcæ zrgmcnt er cvcn g
mctzphysìmenc, butrzthcrìt8O zmerz|pesìtìenzbeutscìcncca
d
thcvz|ucsthztgvcrn ìt. KìchzrdKerqmgntIymæcthcæc.
[\hcrc ìs nercasen te praìsc scìcntìsts Ier bcìngmerc "ebjcctìvc" er
"IegìcaI" er"mcthedìcaI"er"doetcd tetmth"thanethcrpepIc. but
thcrcìspIcntyeIrmentepmìwthcìnstìtutìensthqhavcdocIepdand
wìthìnwhìchthqwerk,andteÜ thucÜ mocIsmrthcmteIcuIturc.
FerthucìnstìtutìensgìvccencrctcnæanddctaìItethcìdæeI"unIemd
agrccmcnt." KIcrcno tesuch ìnstìtutìens huhueutthcìdæeIa"fe
andepncnountcr"-thcæneIcnountcrìnwhìchtruthmnetbìIte
wìn.Onthìsve, temythat tmth wìIIwìn ìn suchancnountcrìsnette
makcamctaphysìcaIcIæm abutthconnotìen bæn humæmen
andthcnatuneIthìng. ltìsmcnIytemythatthcbtwytehndeut
whattebIìocìsteIìstcnteÜ manysutìensanda@umcntsÜ yeu
mn. ( l 99I b,J9)'
1hc undcrmìnìngeIscìcntìsm æ zbse|utcerhnz| knewIcdg rchccts z
dccpcr merz| zpprchcnsìen cenccrnìngthc petcntìz| tyrznnyeIz nzr-
rew|ycenccìvcd rztìenz|ìtyzndthc rcguìrcmcnt Iercentìnucdvìgì|znt
pretcctìen eIepcn ìnguìqznd Ircc cxchzngc eIìdcæ (5erc|| l ººl ) .
[ìn,thìs ìsthcmedcrnìstprejccttzkcnteìtsewnìntcrnæcenc|usìen.
1hztìntcrprctztìenìntcrcumcmercthznthczrgmcntzbutcenstruc-
tìen æ zn cpìstcme|egìcz| dìsceursc bcmusc ìt bcgìns te uncevcrethcr
ìuuc thzt thccentcntìeus h@tsevcrthcsecìzI censtructìen eIknew|-
cdghìdc. I8 mestìntcrctcdìnthìsmerædìmcnsìeneIthcµmcnt,
encthztìsburìcd bcnæth thcethcrdcbztc.
[ìnbuì|dìngenKerty`sIermu|ztìen,rztìenz|ìtyìsneten|yzcem-
mìtmcnttezccrtzìnkìndeImcthedìcz|thìnkìng, butz|sercIcntebcìng
ræenzb|c. Ktìenz|, ìnthìs|zttcrscnsc.
namuascteImeraIvìnuu. te|crancc, mptmrthcepìnìenseIthesc
amundenc,wìIIìngnæteIìstcn,rcIìanccenpnuæìenmthcrthanIem.
ThmarcthcvìnuuwhìchmcmbneIacìvìIìæsmìcqmustpssìI
thcsmìctyìstecndurc. ln thìsscnw, "mtìenaI," thcwrd mæsæmc-
thìngmercIìkc"cìvì|ìud"thanIìkc"mcthoìmI. . . . "Onthìscenstruc-
tìen, tebmtìenaI • ø ø ee degmatìsm,dchnsìvcnus,andrìghtmus
THE SciENCE WA
indignation . . . . My rejection of traditional notions of rationality L be
summed up by sying that the only sense in which science is exemplat is
that it is a model of human solidarity. (Rorty 1 991 b, 37, 39)
1 1
3
Iu
"
dcIcndìng" scìcncc, semc prepencnts hzvc ìrenìcz||yp|zccd thcm-
sc|vcs bcyend thcrczcheI|ìbcrz| dìsceursc. 1hc dccpcr merz| zgcndz
eImznycrìtìcìsteshewhewvz|uc-hccscìcnccìsz cenccìt, znd merc,
z
dìstenìen eIìts ewn mctheds. byepcnìngscìcncc te such crìtìcìsm,
zwcdgc ìs p|zccd Ier thc kìnd eIepcn dìz|eguc Kerty zdvecztcd, enc
whìch|ìcsztthchczneIscìcnccæzncxcmp|zreIcrìtìczIcxchzngc.
Tag Stoc
Much ìnk hæbccnspì|tenthc 5cìcuccWzrcentrevcrsy, dìszgrccmcnts
zmp|y zìrcd, cpìstcme|egìcz| znd merz| stzkcs c|czr|y zrtìcu|ztcd. A
thc pe|cmìcs hzvc cbbcd, ìt ìs tìmc Ier zn zcceuntìng. Wìth thc bcn-
chteIhìndsìght, wc mìghtwc|| rcgzrd thc pe|cmìcs zs ne merc thzn
zu zczdcmìccìvì| dìsputc¬vcrb|ewn, strìdcnt, mìsceuccìvcd,hystcrì-
cz|, ìndccd, semczgucdthztdcc|zrìngz "wzr" neten|ymìszpp|ìcd thc
tcrm,butceutrìbutcdtethcIcrecìtyeIthcpe|cmìc (5hzpìn200l). but
thcweundszrcstì||hcsh bcmuscthcdìztrìbcswcrc undcrsteedzshzv-
ìngpreIeundsìgnìhmnccbrbcyend thcc|zìmseIscìcnccteìnc|udcthc
IeuudztìenseIcthìc,thcrztìeuz| bzsìseIpub|ìcpe|ìq,thcbæìs eIpcr-
senz| bc|ìch, znd seeu.1hc ìssucs rzìscd ìn thc5cìcnccWzrsebvìeus|y
cz|| Ierzttcutìen. 1e bcsurc, phì|esephcrshzvc|enggrzpp|cdwìth thc
c|zìmseInzturz|ìsm vcrsus ceustructìvìsm, rcz|ìsm vcrsus zntìrcz|ìsm,
pesìtìvìsmvcrsusrc|ztìvìsm.Wì|cthcsccpìstcme|egìm|gucstìeuserìgì-
nztcd ìn zncìcnt phì|esephy, thcgreunds Ier thccurrcntdcbztcshìhcd
Irem thc nìnctccnth-ccntuq remzntìczttzcken pesìtìvìsm te z merc
subt|czgumcntzbeutthcstrìcturcseI|znguzgc, thcnzturceIeb¡cctìv-
ìty, znd thc |ìmìts eIrztìenz|ìty thzt mcdìztcscìcntìhcknew|cdgc. 1hc
bæìcpreb|cmsceuccrncdthcdcgrcceIeb¡cctìvìtyzndncutrz|ìtyscìcncc
cmp|eycd ìndcscrìbìng rcz|ìty, thc ìnsu|zrìtyeIscìcutìhc mcthed, thc
secìz|chzrzctcreItruth, znd, mestgcncrz||y, thcspcctcreIrc|ztìvìsm
(He||ìszndLukcs l º82).
Kcse|utìeu eIthcsc ìssucs, net surprìsìng|y, rcmzìnsc|usìvc, butz
trcztyeIserts,erzt|czstzccæchrc,sccmstebcìnchcct.1hcdìsputznts
eIthcmercnzrrew5cìcuccWzrshzvcmzdczn unczsypczcc, newthzt
thcsecìe|egìsu`c|zìms hzvc bccnhczrd znd thcscìcnccstudìcspesìtìen
I 2 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
bcttcr undcrsteed (Lzbìngcr znd Le||ìns 200I ) . L|zrìhcztìens
eI

e
ìuucs hzvc scvcræ seurccs, but Fctcr Oczr, zt |czst Ier mc, rcse|v
cd

e
mzttcr mestdccìdcd|ywìth hìs ìnvcntìen eIthc tcrm "cpìstcmegrzph
y
°
tedcscrìbcsecìe|e@eIscìcntìhcknew|cdgc,whìchdìstìnguìshcskne
w|-
cdgc(er truth) hemhewknew|cdg (er truth) ìsmzdc.
Lpìstcmegraphyìs thccndmver thatattcmpts te ìnvcstìgatcscìcncc "ìn
thchcId". . . ækìng. . . WhatceuntsææìcntìhcknewImgc!Hewìsthat
knewIcdgmadcandccnìhcd!lnwhatwy ìsìtvaIucd!. . . ltdæìgnatcs
an cntcrprìscccntraIIycenccrncd wìth dcvcIepìngan cmpìrìcaI undcr-
standìngeIscìcntìhcknewIcdgc, ìncentrættecpìstcmeIe@,whìchìsa
præcrìptìvcstudyeIhewknewIcdgcmnersheuIdbmadc. (De 200Î,
l J�Jl )
Lpìstcmegmphyrcguìrcs znebjcctìvczttìtudc, whìch sìmp|ymczos
mzt thc secìz| scìcntìstC mzkc necemmìtmcntsæ tewhcthcrscìco-
tìhcknew|cdgc ìs truc er b|sc. Accerdìng|y, Iremthcsecìe|egìsts` pcr-
spcctìvc, whcn cenIrentìngcìthcrthc rcz|ìster thc rc|ztìvìst, thc ìssue
eIscìcntìhcsucccs ìs hzrd|yzddrcscd, ìnæmuchæ thcy|µc|yrcmzìo
@nestìczbeutthcrcspcctìvcmcrìueIvæìeusmcthede|egìcæzndcvæu-
ztìvcscìcntìhcstmtcgìc (c.g. , Lteur I º87).1husthcmzttcrìsnetcvco
p|zccd en thc zgcndz, Iersecìe|egìstszrc centcntwìth z dcscrìptìenof
scìcnccæsìmp|yenc zmengethcrsecìz|zctìvìtìc.
Indccd, truth ìs netzt ìssuc, bc|ìcIìs.1hìsdìstìnctìenW |estzod
thcpesìtìenæsumcdbythccpìstcmegrzphcrbreughtthcchzgceIrc|a-
tìvìsmupenOcæ`szgnestìcìsm,tewhìchhcrcspendcd.
FæpIcdenetbcIìcvcpmpsìtìensteb tmcbu thewpmpsìtìens
arc ìn Iact truc, ìnstcad, thcybcIìcvc thìngs Iervarìeus rcasensthatan
cpìstcmegraphcr ìs ìntcrcstcd te uncevcr. . . . Thc cempIctc anaIytìcaI
dìvercc bcmccn truth and bcIìcI mcans that thc cpìstcmìc rcIatìvìsm
attachìngtebcIìcIshænebrìngenanykìndeIpsìtìenthatmaìntaìns
that truth ìssemchew"rcIatìvc."A cpìstcmegraphcrceuId maìntaìna
bIìcIìnabseIutctruthandstìIIbamcthoeIegìcaInIatìvìst,bu thc
nIatìvìsmenIyappIìæte undcrsundìngwhatpanìcuIægmupseIppIc
bIìocandwhythcybIìocìt. (De 200l , l Jl )
1estudyscìcncczsz IermeIknew|cdg rccz|s thztì ubc|ìcIstructurc,
bcyend truth c|zìms bzscd en Izctuæ dztz, ìnc|udcs mu|tìp|c |zyc
rs
o
f
ìntcrprctztìen,vzrìeus medcs eIsecìz| znd pe|ìtìm| ìntcrceursc, zn
d
a
cemp|cxzrrzyeIìntcr|eckìng bc|ìcIqtcms thzt mzyermzy net h
z
v
c
mcmmccpìstcme|egìcz|stzndìngæthcerìgìnæc|zìm. 1hìsìsnette
s
a)
THE SciENCE WA
t
h
at
sc
ìcnccdecs netpreducctruth, but en|y thztscìcntìststqte mzkc
ttu
th
c|zìmszbeut thc nzturz| wer|d, znd scìcncc studìcs sche|zn tqte
c
haractcrìzc hewscìcntìstsdese. 5uch zcrìtìc mìghtwc|| bcz mcthed-
o|ogìcz| rc|ztìvìst znd yct stì|| he|d te z bc|ìcIìn zbse|utc truth. Netc
thatwhì|cthcebjcctseIstudyzrcdìhcrcnt,zcemmenundcrstzndìngeI
tcasenìshc|dbybethsìdcs.mchmkebjcctìvìtyzndìmpzrtìæìq.1hzt
commenz|ìtyscncsmyewnzttìtudc.
I de netcentctthztscìcncchæIe||ewcdz unìgucìntc||cctuz| hcrì-
tag
c znddcvc|epcd dìstìnctìvcmctheds, butthc"scpzrztìsts" bì| te rcc-
oguìzc zdccpcrstrztumeIshzrcd ìnguìqznd purpesc. 1e dìsccrn thzt
sharcd zgcndz rcguìrcs zpprccìztìng thc zrrzy eIvz|ucs gevcrnìng thc
iustìtutìeneIscìcncc,whescvæìeuszctìvìtìcgewc||bcyendthcwz||seI
thc|zberzteq. Itz|sem|sIerzpprccìztìngthcnetìeneIzshzrcdrczsen,
orat|czstrcæenæìtmnctìensìnsemcìntcrp|zyeIìtsvzrìeusIerms.
Onthìsvìw, thc mìuìen te crìtìguc scìcncc, ìntcrprct ìts dcvc|ep-
mcut,zndæsìstchemmzdchemwìthìn thcscìcntìhcctzb|ìshmcnt ìn
i tsewnsc|I-crìtìmcz|uztìenswzrrzntsscìcnccstudìcs.mcrz|| , ìtsccms
sc||-cìdcntthztthczbì|ìtyte tms|ztcscìcntìhcdìscevcrìcsædthcerìcs
iutewìdcrcenccptuæædsecìzImntcxts,whcrcthcìrsìgnìhæcc mìght
hcmercm||yzpprccìztcd, rcguìrcsengeìngcrìtìm zpprzìsz|s. 5cìcnccìs
ou|yencqtcmeIìnvctìgtìenwìthìnthzt|z@ræcnzeIhumznstudy
o|nzturc, pcrsens, znd secìcty. A such, ìt hæprevcn te bc z crucìz|
mcznseIdìsmvcrìngeurwer|dmdchzmctcrìzìngeur rc|ztìenshìpteìt.
bot|ìkcznymedceIstudy,ìtìssubjccttecrìtìcìsm,zndìnthztcrìtìguc,
scicutìhcmcthedìtsc|Iìsscrutìnìudmdthcrcbyundcrsteedìnìtswìdcst
contcxt. 1hìs ìspzrteIthc humznìstcntcrprìsc ìnwhìch scìcncc erìgì-
u+tcd zndtewhìch ìtcentìnucstecentrìbutc. Oncmìghtcvcnszythzt
sc||-crìtìcæscìcntìsuzrcthcmsc|vccnggcd ìnthcphì|esephìcz|prejcct
o|"
nzturz| phì|esephy" ìn thcìrewn cxmìnztìeneImcthedsæd truth
c|
+ìms. 1hìscsscntìæ|yphì|esephìm| sc|I-cvz|uztìen rcprcscnuz mndz-
0
cntz| |ìnkbcmccn scìcncc znd phì|esephy, znd se wc rcturn te eur
orìgìnz|chz||cngceIdchnìngscìcnccìnzhumznìstìccentcxt.
On zsynthctìcvìw, scìcncc`sbrezdcst phì|esephìcæ zgcndzz|ìgns
i
tsc|I
wìth thc humznìst trzdìtìen, zndwhì|c thzt z||ìzncc hzs suhcrcd
tc
usìens, thc |zrgcr |ìbcræ pregrzm must brìng thcm zgzìn ìnte c|esc
pr
ex
ì
mìty. 5e,dcspìtc thcebvìeuscentrzsts ìnthcìr rcspcctìvc pursuìts
+o
d
m
ctheds, zn zbìdìngæ|ìzncc bcmccn thcm ìs, Irem my peì nt eI
"
i
c
w,
nzturz| �nd ncccsszq. nzturz| , bcczusc thcy zrc |ìnkcd by thcìr
116 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
shzrcd hìsterìcszudkìudrcd phì|esephìcs, ucccsszq, bcmusceu|y
thc
ìt
cembìucdstrcugthwì||sustzìu|ìbcrz|ìsmzudæurc thcìrewuwc|
brc.
Hewcvcr, thìs z||ìzucc hzs bccu ìu crìsìs zud ìts Iuturc rcmzìo
s
unc|czr. buì|dìugeu thcìrtcchuìcz| cxpcnìsc zud ceguìtìvcscpzrztì
eo
,
scìcntìsts hzvc genc tegrczt |cugths te dìstìnguìsh thcìrmctheds
Ire
m
mescchzractcrìstìceIhumzuìststudyzndhumzuccxpcrìcno.Neteo
|y
zrc thc ebjccts eIìnguìqdìhcrcnt, but thcvcq "|egìc" eIthc |zbora-
teqputztìvc|yrcstseudìhcrcutcrìtcrìzeIræen. Ncvcnhc|c , dcc
pct
ænìtìcscìstwìthscìcucc'sìutc||cctuz|prccunen.Iudod,mcscpzrztìst
hìsteqìsì||ustrztìvceIzb|scdìchetemythzthebscurcdthcrc|ztìeo-
shìpeIscìcutìhcthìukngte ìts undcr|yìngphì|esephìmseurccs. 1hc
gucstìen zt hzud ìs tewhzt dcgrcc scìcncc rcmzìns nzturæ phì|esephy,
z bmncheIìuguìqtìcd te ethcrdìscìp|ìucbyz shzrcd cemmen mtìo-
nz|ìty. íunhcr, zshzrcdcemmìtmcutte thcvz|uc ìnstzntìztcdbyepco
ìnguìqzud ìutcgrctztìeu bìuds thcm. 1hcscvæucgvcrn scìcncc zud
suppert thc IeuudztìenseI|ìbcrz| secìcty. 1hus te undcrstzndscìcucc
æ z preducteIWcstcrucu|turcrcguìrcszckew|cdgìng ìure|cìnbut-
trcssìugcutrcprcucurìz| Irccdem¬Ircc ìuguìq, uuIcttcrcd j udgmcut
,
uucempremìscd p|urz|ìtyeItheught, whìch ce||cctìvc|y CD scìcncc ìu
ìubrezdcstceutcxt,euccrucìz|tethcvìtz|ìtyeIWcstcrnsecìctìc.
5ewhztceuc|usìeus mìghtbcdrzwn! íìrst, thccenstmctìvìstchz|-
|cughycttep|zyìufl munc, buteucmzjerrcmtmmmntcmpe-
r studìci thztìthzsdcmeustmtcdhewscìcuobuì|dskew|mìu8
mæegus bshìen teethcrkudseIkuew|cdgmrmztìen.Wì|cc|zìmìug
zprìvì|cgcd cpìstcme|egìcz| stzudìug, scìcutìsts mìghtµc mrzdìhcr-
cuoìndgro,uetìukud,eImustmctìvìstc|cmcnu.1ztstnomest
ìsgcucm|yzcccptcd, but ceutrevcny rcmzìns æ te thcdcgrcctewhìch
soìz|Iercczrcz||ewcdtedctcrmìucscìcutìhccentcntzndmmæ otthc
crìtcrìzeIwhztmuutsæzbctzud
¡
up|zomcutìnsemcmmqermedc|.
II"mìud" ìutcrpescs ìtsc|I, thcu hìddcu va|uc, prcjudìcc, mdpnpctìvc
|ìngræpcnìstcntbcten. Inshen,C mcmìuddìroykewthcwer|d!
LeustructìvìsueIvarìeusstrìphzvcz|cnmthcìrzudìcuotemcvarìeus
dgeIceustræut eudìrot kuew|cdg (Ie||ewìngKt), md ìn deìug
se,thqhzvcpmmuud|ychz||cugdscìcutìhcrmìsu.
5cceud,zrcæeuzb|cz|tcruztìvcpesìtìenhæbonehcrcd,encwhìch
zrgucs thzt scìcutìhccxp|znztìen Ie||ews z przgmztìcceursc, znd thzt,
ìdcz|ìzcd truth c|zìms eIthcequemìthstzndìug, scìcncc ìsdrìvcn by ìts
pmctìczIceuccrus.5cìcucczsscrtszpewcrm|uudcrstzudìugeInzturcthzt
THE SCIENCE WA 1 17
cauuetbcdcnìcd ìIìtsc|zìmszrccìrcumspcctteìtsmcthedeIstudyznd
wc
zrczb|ctedìhcrcutìztcthcvz|ìdìtyeIìtsrzugceIæscnìeus. Guìdcd
a
ud
preddcd by ìts pe|ìtìcæ cnvìrenmcnt, zud ìmp|ìcìt|ystructurcd by
ìts
undcr|yìng mctzphysìc, scìcucc rcmzìnsz przgmztìc cntcgrìsc rcst-
ìug
en z censtructìvccmpìrìcìsm znd thc pewcreI"|em" dcscrìptìens
(ì.
c. ,
wc||-dchncdcxpcrìmcntz|systcms) eIrcz|ìty.1ængthztpesìtìen,
scìc
ucc`struthc|zìmszppczrproviionR
y
truc.Netc, "prevìsìenæ" znd
"
H||ìb|c"zrcnetsynenymseI"centìngcnt. "On thìsvìcw, przgmztìsm
æsumcs tep bì||ìngæwc mkz rcstìngp|zccbcmccn thcme ctrcmc
o|zn untcnzb|c rmìsm zndz rc|ztìvìsm thzt rcgzrds scìcuccæ nethìng
mercthznzsecìæcenstruct.
In dcscrìbìngthzt rctìngp|zcc,wc dewc|| te rcturn te thc hcurìs-
tìc medc| dcvc|epcd byLteste cxp|zìn scìcntìhcchzngc(I º70) znd
adeptìtteerìcntthcsccpìstcme|egìm ìssucs. Ltus rcgrd thcbedyeI
scìcntìhcknew|cdgczs censìstìngeIcemp|cx|cvc|swìth zn csscntìz||y
stzb|ccercthztrcmzìnsunpcnurbcdbythccenccptuz|zudsecìzIwhìr|-
wìnds rushìngzreund ìu mercpcrìphcrz| zctìvìtìcs, thcsìtcswhcrcnw
kew|cdgc ìsbcìngbshìencd.1hcscpcrìphcmsìtcszrcmercsubjcctte
vzrìeus thcerctìm ìntcrprctztìens thzt ìnc|udc thc ìnhucncceIIzcters
zrìsìnghemthccegnìtìvccemmìtmcutszudsecìz|scttìngeIthcrcsczrch.
butcvcntuæ|y, ztsemcpeìntìnthctrìz|seIscìcntìhc thceqcenstruc-
tìen, Irem ìuewn thcerctìcævzgrìcsznd thc unccnzìntìceIebscurc
cenccptuævzrìzb|cs, thccenccptuz| bzsìs ìs"hzrdcncd" bymnhcrtct-
ìugzgìnstnzturc. Ne|engrsubjcctte rzdìcz| dcvc|epmcnt,z rcczrch
pregmmmzturc,zndìtscerccentcutìspretcctcd zndcedìhcd. In ethcr
werds, hewscìcntìhcthcerìcscmcgmzywc||bcCìncdæpreducu
eIzpznìcu|zrscìcntìhcmcthed, thcpe|ìtìcæ ìntcrcstseIthcsuppenìng
cu|turc, thchìsterìm|centìngcncìcseIthcscttìng, zndse Ienh, butthc
cve|utìeneIthztpreccudecrcsu|tìnzpractcal zchìcvcmcnteIchcctìvc
mznìpu|ztìeneInzturc. OnthcbæìseINcwten`s|zws, wchzvc|zndcd
en thc meen o o • znd rcturncd. bcyendsemcsecìz| censcnsus, thcrc ìs
a ebjcctìvc, qu rcæ rcsu|trc|ztcd teeurmznìpu|ztìeneInzturc. 1hzt
"preduct" censtìtutcs zn cnd peìnt, rcgzrd|css eIwhcthcr er net thc
thceq thzt cxp|zìns ìt ìs truc ìn zny hnz| scnsc. In ethcr werds, much
"spzcc"cìsubmccnscìcntìhchndìng,whìchdccrìbcnzturc,zndthc
thcerìc,whìchscnctecxp|zìntheschudìng. Iudccd,zuzcknew|cdgcd
hìcmrchyeIvæìdztìenzpp|ìcstescìcntìhcknew|cdg,zndthcthcerctìcz|
cerc mzybcrgrdcdæ guìtc |ìmìtcd whcnvìcwcdcrìtìcæ|y, thc rcst ìs
I 18 SCIENCE AND TE QUET FOR MEING
zpprexìmztìenwìthz dìhcrcntstztuseItruth. 1hus,cvcn thc"|zw
s o
f
nzturc" rchcctznìdcz| stztc, zndscìcntìstsmnctìen Ierthcmestpz
rt
ìo
zwer|dwhcrcthcìrìnvcstìgtìensmnnetm|h||crìtcrìz ìnwhìchthc
sp
c-
cìz|cendìtìenseI|zwzrczpp|ìmb|c,zndthcìrdccrìptìenscenscgucnt|y
f
ll
ìnte |ewcr Ierms eIknew|cdgc (scc, c.g. , Lzmrìght l º8J, l º99
,
Gìcrc l ººº).
1hcthìrdcenc|usìenìsthztwchzvcwìtnc cdzmestìntcrctìngcpì-
sedcìnìntc||ohìsteqìnwhìchmeerìcntztìensdcc|epcdtezcem-
menpmb|cm.1hchrstwc mì@t |zbc|8 thc"pæsìngtmns" medz|ìq,
whcrccrìtìczndthcìrsubjccu,whì|czwzrceIæchethcr, cUìbìtcd|ìtt|c
ìntcrzctìen. íremthcscìcntìst`spcrspcctìvc,encænetræenzb|yzr@
c
zgnst thcpregmsìvcIæturceIscìcntìhcìnvctìgtìens.Advznomcut
evcrær|ìcr thcerìcìssc|I-cìdcntbyc|ìmìnztìeneIcrrer, ìmprevcdprc-
dìctzbì|ìty, thc pewcreIæsìmì|ztìngdìvcrgcnt mzttcrseIbct, znd thc
zbì|ìqtemznìpu|ztcnzturz| phcnemcnz.Wztmu|dencdìsputczbeut
thc"truth"znd"rcz|ìty"eIzdcìgncrdrug(c.g. ,z||epurìne|)thztspccìh-
m||yìnhìbìts zrcccptereræ cnqmc (ì.c. , xmthìnc exdzsc), whìch, ìu
turn, ìnìtìztcszn cntìrcæmdceIphysìe|egìm cvcnts thztcnd ìnthc
rccrsz|eIz pzthe|e@ (ì.c.,geut)!1hìs ìs scìcncc 8 zsuosm cmpìrì-
m, przgmztìc cntcrprìsc thzt works. 1hztsecìe|egìsts hzvc shewn thzt
scìcntìhcmcthedmmmhy(ì.c. , mrmz||y)decnetcìsthæd|yzddrcscs
thcscìcntìsts` cenccrn. 1hcyde whzt thcyæn. 1hcguctìen eIhew ìs
semcencc|sc`spreb|cm.
írem thìs pzrechìz| pcrspcctìvc, secìe|egìsts, hìsterìzns, znd phì-
|esephcrseIscìcnccthesc I hzvc rcIcrrcd te 8 "scìcncc crìtìc"¬zrc
cemmìttcd te thcìrewn preIcsìenz| cnds 8 socolgt, hitrn, an
philsophm. Indccd,zstmtc@cmcrgcdtewzrdehthczttzckeIscìcncc
dcIcndcnbyæ cnìngthcpreIc ìenz|ìntcrctseIthccrìtìceIscìcncc8
cscntìz||ythcìrewncenccrn.Accerdìng|y,en|yzmdìmhìngcseughtte
z|tcrscìcntìhcpmctìcc er te ìnsìnuztcthcmsc|vc ìnte thc |zberzteqte
bccemc pzrt eIthcscìcntìhc tcm. butthcdemìnmtstmoW thzteI
pæìngtmns,sethztthcscìcntìhcmmmunìtyzpprccìztcdthztthccrìtì-
m| bzrbs bcìng threwn bythccrìtìcweu|dg|znccehthcìr preIc ìenz|
shìc|ds, zndwerkweu|dprecccdwìtheut hcìtztìen eIìntmspcctìener
sc|I-crìtìcæ deubt. 5cìcncc rcmzìncd cemmìttcd te ìts ewn zgcndz 8
przctìtìencnsedchncd ìt, zndthccrìtìc, ìn mymdz||guìsc, ceu|dde
whztthqwntcdzmengthcmsc|vcs.
THE SCI ENCE WA 1 2
9
íìuz||y, wc mìght cousìdcr thcdccpcst mctzphysìcz| chz||cugcs hìd-
d
cu
bcuczth thcpo|cmìc. IIrcccutscìcuccstudìcscrìtìcchcctìvc|ydìs-
mzut|cd thccpìstcme|ogìcz| projcct prcscutcd bystzunch dcIcudcrseI
scìcucc, thcuwhztìs thcstztuseIthc mctzphysìm pìcturcscìcucchzs
prcscutcd! IIscìcucc'sewnvz|ucstructurcshows ìtsc|Iwczkcucdbyceu-
ccìtseIebjcctìvìtyzud ucutrz|ìq, ìIìts truth c|zìms zrcvìcwcdwìth z
dccpcrskcptìcìsmzndìts thcorìc thrcztcucdwìthdìsmìssz|, ìIìtsprem-
ìscseIbctuz|knew|cdgcprevcìusccurc, realit ce||zpscs. . . zt|ætthc
rcz|æcenstrucdbywhztWctcrusecìctyhzsrcgrdcdzsthcpzrzgeueI
rcæeu. Wcucvcrtru|ycxpcctcdccrtzìnty,butwcdìdcxpcctpregrcssznd
z rczsenzb|y rc|ìzb|c ìmzgc eIrcz|ìty.Whztcou|dtzkcìts p|zcc!Whcn
sevìwcd,thc5cìcuccWzntzkcenzuwurgcnq.1hcznzrchìstszrczt
thcgtcs,zudwhztwì||bc|chìIthcìrzttzcksæuetbctetz||yrcpu|scd!
IIthcybrczchthcwz||soIthc|zberztoq, thcu,tru|y,whcrczrcwc!
A wchzvcdìscusscd, thc "mdìm" crìtìguc cmphæìæ thcdyuzmìc
chzrzctcreIscìcutìhczdvzncc,whcrc ueprescrìbcdmcthedcxìsts, zud
thmrìcrìsczndb||uetso|c|yeuthcìrc|zìmsteebjcctìvctruths,butzrc
z|se bche|dcn tehìddcuzcthctìczndpe|ìtìmIero. Kcvìsìeuìstdccrìp-
tìouseIscìcntìhcpmctìcchzvcshowuhowthcsoìz|ìustìtutìeueIscìcno
hæhzdzpewcrm|chccteuwhzt scìcutìstsstudyzudhewthcyczmìuc
thcìrebjccts eIìuvcstìgztìen. 1hcy hzvc z|se rccz|cd hew thcpe|ìtìc
eIscìcucc, beth zt thc|ecz||zberztoqzud zt thc g|ebz| zrcnz, Ie||ew
secìe|egìm|ydctcrmìucdwzys eIknew|cdgc Iermztìen sìmì|zrte thesc
Ieuud ìn neuscìcutìhc pursuìts. Fcrhzps mest ìmportzut|y, dcspìtc z||
thccmvmts tethcpesìtìvìstpìcturceIscìcuo,truthceutìuuc te rcìgn,
z|meu@semctruthszrcmerctructhzuethcn,rc|ztìvìsmhe|dsnewzy,
zndebjcctìvìty,dcpìtcthcìmpessìbì|ìtyeIìtsdcmznds,rcmzìusstzudìng
ìuWctcrusecìctìc. The guctìeuthcu,gìvcnthc|ìmìtseIscìcutìhcrztìe-
uz|ìty,ebjcctìvìty,zudthcstzudìugeItruth,ìs.hewdecsscìcuccmuctìeu
sechcctìvc|yìnìtsguctIerthcrm!1hìs|ætgucstìen,thìshuz|,ìmpossì-
b|c,ìrrcvcrcntgucq,ceutìuucstewzgìtswmhmdztm,Ieruudcr|yìng
thccrìtìmzppmsz|seIscìcutìhcdìsceuncrcsìdcpreIeuudphì|esephìm
ìmbreg|ìeszbeuthowthcscìcutìhcmìudzddrcsscsthcmostpreIeuudeI
mystcrìc,whzt"mìud"ìszudhowìtæknowthcwor|d.5e,bcyeudthc
cpìstcme|egìmguzudzrìcszud thc ìutc||cctuz| ræìgnmcutsrchcctcdby
thc5cìcnoWzn,preIeuudmctzphysìcz|ìuucrcmzìn|zgc|yuudcc|zrcd
znddermzntbcumththcebvìousìssucsztstzkc.
Sci ENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
Cncuion
Irenìcz||y, epcnìngscìcncc te z ncw|y ìnvìgerztcd crìtìcìsm ce||zpsc
d
thc me cu|turc mcntz|ìtyzs z preb|cm eIscìcntìhc|ìtcrzcy, but
zt
th
c
szmc tìmc, thccrìtìcìsm sìgnz|cd thc centìnucd scpzrztìen eIscìcntìsts
md humznìsts, net by |zckeIcemmen |znguzgc, but bydìhcrcntpro-
Icssìenz| ì ntcrcsts znd, merc ìmpertznt|y, phì|esephìcz| erìcntztìons.
(íerìnstzncc,phì|esephyeIscìcnccsccmcdteehcr|ìu|c,ìIznythìng, to
pmctìcìngscìcntìsts,butthcphì|esephìcæìnsìghugrncrcdevcrthcpæt
hhyycznhzvchzdzpreIeundchcctenphì|esephy`sewncpìstcmo|ogì-
m zgcndz. 1hcszmc ìs truc Ier thc hìsterìznsznd secìe|egìsts ìn thcìr
rcpcctìvchc|ds.)
but dìd thcscpzrztìen eIthc centcndìng pzrtìcs zctuz||y rcsu|t ìo
nenwsynthctìcpesìtìen!Amerccìrcumspcctvìw,encI wì||cz||thc
"epcndeerpo|ìq,"rcprccntsthcz|tcrnztìvctethc"pzuìngtrzìns"socì-
e|e@, znd Irem thìs pesìtìen, znethcrcenc|usìen bcckens. Hìsterìcz|
mdsecìe|egìmstudìcshzvcdcmenstrztcdbcyendrcæenzb|cdeubtthzt
thcwerkìngpraccts eIscìcntìhcdìscìp|ìncszrc beth ìncemp|ctc|yznd
ìnzccurztc|ypenrzycdbythcmcthede|egìctewhìch scìcntìsuemcìz||y
subscrìbc. 1hc chz||cngcs te thc prctcnsìens eIthc scìcnccs thzt such
dìscrcpzncìcs pesc zrc surc|y net te bc dìsmìsscd zs ì||cgìtìmztc ìntcr-
vcntìens hem "eutsìdc" scìcncc. Kthcr, thcyzrìsc Iremwìthìn thcscì-
cnccs, theughhemæpcctsìgnercdbymest przctìtìencn Qzrdìnc
¿
000,
¿
gg
_
¸
!
a
Hewccr, thcccpìstcme|egìcz| ìssuc sheu|d netebscurc thcdccpcr
mem|chz||cng,encthztdrzwshemscìcncc`sewnerìgìnszndthcundc-
nìzb|c strcngth eIìts mcthed. Lensìdcrìngthcwìdc-sprczdskcptìcìsm
zbeut thcchzmctcreImtìenz|ìty, thc nzturceItruth, zndthcnetìeno|
ebjcctìvìty, whìch tegcthcr hzvc Iermcd z pewcrm| zttzcken Kczson,
scìcnccehcrsìtsunìgucz|tcrnztìvc æzpzmgeneIknew|cdgczndjudg-
mcnt. At thc ìntcrbcc bcmccn z phì|esephythztcenhdcnt|yprecccds
tedìscevcr thc erdcr eInzturc zndz cu|turz| cthes ìncræìng|ydeubt-
m| zbeut unìvcrsz| truth, rczsen erebjcctìvcknew|cdgc, z rìh epcns.
Fzn eIthc ìntcnsìty eIthc 5cìcncc Wzrs rchcctcd thc dccp dìsunìtìcs
eIhew rczsen ìscenccptuz|ìzcd. Wc szw thìs ìn thc ìntc||ìgcntdcsìgn
centrevcrsy, znd ìt zppczrs ìn mzny guìscs eIsecìz| pe|ìcy, zs wc wì||
censìdcr ìn thc ncxtchzptcr. In zsecìctythzt pretccts p|uræìstìcvæucs
mddìspzmtccenccptuz|mmwerkeIundcrstzndìngthcwer|dmdth
c
p|zcceIhumznsìn ìt, ìnIermcdcìtìunshe|dthcbtceI|ìbcrædcmecm
-
THE SciENCE WA 1
3
1
_
cs.
1hcsc dìhcrcnccs cznnetbccrzscd ner cvcn rcse|vcd. On|y |ìbcrz|
t
o
|cr
znccz||ews such dìvcrsìtyte cecxìst, znd scìcnccpcrhzps mzkcs ìts
c
tìt
ìcz| merz| centrìbutìen bycxhìbìtìngstzndzrdseIdìsceursc, whìch
arcepcnzndthcerctìm|ytrznspzrcnt,æzmedc|eI|ìbcmdìæeguc.5c|I-
a
wzrcncss eIthìs merz| pesturc mzkcs thc scìcntìst`scthìcz| re|c merc
ìmpenzntzs thc unìgucguz|ìtìcs eIhcrvecztìen bccemc ìncrczsìng|y
dìstìnctìvc.5uchmemsc|I-censcìeusncssp|zccshcrwìthìnzncvcn|zrgcr
ìut
c||cctuz| undcnzkìng thzn thcdcscrìptìen eIthc nzturz|wer|d erìts
mzstcq.1hzthumznìstundcmngweu|dzgnmæczscìcntìstznztu-
qphì|esephcr. íersemc,thìscz||ìngweu|dzddrcsszwìdcrpe|ìtìcz|znd
se
cìz| zgcndz, znd, æ thc ncxtchzptcrdìscusscs, whcn scìcnccbccemcs
apznìcìpznt ìn secìz| pe|ìq, cn|ìghtcncd cxpcrts scncz crìtìcz| re|c ìn
dcmecrztìcdc|ìbcrztìen. 5cìcnccæ pe|ìtìc ìs thc ncxtstcp ìnthc trzjcc-
teq chzncd hcrc. ìndìvìduz| knewcr te cemmunìty eIrcsczrchcrs, znd
uewtethcsecìæwer|dtewhìchthcycentrìbutc.
S
ci
ence in Its Socio-politica Contexts
wrcaocemprrb¬eoqamerUtbatMC eambaerm.
Frìcdrìch Nìcmchc, IbrWN mPemo
Scìcntìhc knew|cdgc ìs ncìthcr vz|uc-Ircc ner zs "ncutrz| " zs Wcbcr
had hepcd (sccchzptcr 2), Ier thccheìcceIìnvcstìgtìen, thc rcseurcc
æ|ocztcd te thc cndczver, znd thc uscs te whìch thc knew|cdgc ìs put,
tcprcscnts z gez|-dìrcctcd vcnturc. 5zturztcd wìth secìz| purpesc, thc
+pp|ìcztìeneIscìcntìhchndìngìnIermsdccìsìen-mzkìngzhcctìngsecìz|
wc|brc,oenemìcwæ|th,zndmì|ìtzqstrcngth. (Nntalit, eIceunc, ìs
dìhcrcnthem objtctvit, z tepìcdìscusscd ìndctzì| bc|ew.) I 8 rcIcr-
tìugtesuchìuucæ.
( l ) 5heu|d merc prìsensbcbuì|t!FzrtoIthcznswcrdcpcndsenthc
re|ceIrchzbì|ìutìen,whìch, ìn turn, rctsenæìngthcdgro
tewhìchgnctìcìnhcrìunodctcrmìnchumznbhzvìerznd thcn
cub|ìshìngthcctcnttewhìchtraìnìngermcdìmtìenmìghtz|tcr
such gcnctìcdctcrmìnìsm. bæcd enthcscjudgmcnts, bchzvìeræ
scìcnop|zyzcrucìz|re|cìnscnìngthcmmwerkIercub|ìshìng
gz|seIìnmomtìen.
(2) Gìvcn thccests eIcncr@, whztzrc thc mestcmcìcnt, szIc,znd
cnvìrenmcntz||ycenscnztìvcz|tcrnztìvcteIeuì|mc|s!FzneIthc
znwcrdcpndsenbæìc rcærch, pzrten tcchno|egìc, zndpzrt
SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MENING
enccenemìc.1hcscìcnccundcr|ìcsczchdemzìn,neten|y
ìn

c
dcc|epmcnteIzpp|ìmtìens,butz|seìnæsc ìngmturcchccts.
(J) Lenccrnìngzbenìen,ztwhzt peìnt ìn dcvc|epmcntdecs
z |c
t
us
bccemc vìzb|c, znd whzt mcdìcz| ìntcncntìens zrc rcguìrcd
t
q
smtzìn thc |ìIc eIz prcmzturc ìnbnt!L|ìnìcz| scìcncc Iramc
s

c
dcbztc,whìch ebvìeus|y ìshczvì|y|zdcnwìth mem|znd rc|ìgìo
us
ìnhucno, but thc rztìenzIc Ierznypesìtìen buì|dsenzcencc
p-
tìeneI|ìIcprevìdcdbymcdìcìnc.
AppIìmtìen eIscìcntìhcc|æms rcguìrcsjudìcìeusznd mczsurcd bz|zup
eIwhzt censtìtutcs ebjcctìvc cvìdcncc znd whzt ìnIermztìen bcc
em
cs
cnIìstcdìnthcpremetìeneIccenemìc,pe|ìtìm|,errc|ìgìempewcr
ìutct-
cts. In ethcrwerds, pe|ìqdìsguìscdæscìcntìhcdcbztcìsehcn ìdce|og
byznethcrnzmc.
1hìspeìntW zmp|yìIIustmtcdbythcGcegcW. bushzdmìnìstta-
tìen,whescìdce|egìmpesìtìens ìnsìnuztcd thcmsc|vcs ìnte dìvcrscsci-
cntìhczrcnæ, ìnc|udìngthc tcrmìnztìeneIIcdcmsuppenIerstcmcc||
rcsczrch znd thc dcnìzI eIg|ebz| wzrmìng (Meency 2005). In thc hrst
ìnstzncc, rc|ìgìeusdectrìncìntcgescd ìuc|ItesIewzdmmztìcscìcntihc
zdvzncc, znd ìnthcethcrìnstzncc, thcmyepìzeIbusìncs ìntcrcstsdis-
tencdthcìntcrprctztìeneIcznhscìcntìsts`wænìngzbeutsìgnìhmntc|i-
mztcchzngcs.1hccmercccntcxp|chìgh|ìghthewscìcnccbccemcs
subjccttethcpe|ìtìmzndsecìzIcurrcnts thztmzybuhctthcwa||seIth
r
|zberzteq. And ìn zn ccrìcOmc||ìzn scnsc, thczttzckzrc mzdc ìn thc
nzmc eI"seundscìcncc,"z phmc ceìncd ìn I ººJ byz nenprehtIreut
gmupIerthctebzcceìndustqmIcd1hcAdvznccmcnteI5eund5cìcncc
LezIìtìen (1A55L) , whìch wæ Iermcd teeppescthc rcguIztìen eIcìg-
rcttcs. 1hc tcrm hzs bccn rcpcztcd|y cmp|eycd zs pzrt eIz |cxìcen |ot
puttìngz pre-scìcnccvcnccrenpe|ìcìcs thzt thcgcncrz| scìcntìhccem-
munìtydìszvews.1hìsrhcterìchzszI|ewcdIerthczrtìcu|ztìenzndzpp|ì-
mtìeneI"pccrrcvìw" crìtcrìzdcsìgncdteebstructpe|ìcìcs thztwcrcat
eddswìthbush`spe|ìtìcz|zgcndz(Meency2004).
Gzq1rudmu, threughenceIhìs Ooncbuqmneens, c|egucnd)
mpturmeurpe|ìtìm| tcmprìnhìsgìm| trcnchznt bshìen (2000).10
r
monpìourczdì|ìgcntstudcntwerkìngenzm|cuIztìenmdcc|zìmìug
ìnhustmtìen,"íudg|1hztmn`tbrì@t|"Ahcrthmwìngzwaythcm|cu-
Izter,hcmumb|c, "Omt|1hæp[scìcntìhcHmwen`t|ìncupbch
ìud
mybcIìch|" Or.NzthznNm|,thcWhìtcHeuæ"sìtuztìenz|scìcno"zd
vì-
ær,thcncntcn.Nm|cenhrmsthcby`sìnsìghtzndthcnepìnc.
SciENCE IN ITs Socio-POLITICL CoNTEXTS
Situational science is about respecting bot sides of a scientifc argu­
ment, not j ust the one supported by facts! That's why I awy teach
the controversy like the evolution controversy, or the global warming
controversy . . . not to mention the tobacco controversy, the coa slurr
controversy, the dioxin controversy, the everglades contrversy, ad the
acid rain controversy.
The eet student rplie, "You'r right, Situational Scienceman­
I'U neer trst sience agin! It's j ust to controversial!" The crton end
with te advisr pering out at the rder, "Steie gets it now folk! Do
yu?" (emphais in original).
1
35
1hc peIìtìcs eIscìcncc hzs czpturcd ccntcr stzgc ìn mzny pe|ìcy
dcbztc,zndìnthcmestrcccntzttcmpu tecurtaì|thcusceIscìcncc,wc
wìtucssz pe|ìtìcz|shìh ìn thcc stru|cs. thc stzgc hzs bccn tzkcn hem
thescenthc|ch, whezgcncmtìen a eppescd nuc|czrpewcrzndpre-
metcdcnvìrenmcntz|pretcctìen,byznw|yìnspìrcdcensc~ztìvcmevc-
mcnt thzt weu|d b|eck stcm cc|| rcsczrch znd gcnctìc cngìnccrìng Ier
thcìrewn ìdm|egìm| rcæens.
Our censìdcrztìen eIthcsc mzttcrs bcgìns wìth me ebscnztìens.
Fìrst, thc"pzckzgcdczI" eIding scìcncczndplcng scìcnccwìthìn ìts
ìutc||cctuz| znd secìz| centcxts zrgucs thzt scìcncc znd ìts studyzs z
humzn zctìvìty mnnetbcscpzrztcd. 1hìs ìntcrdìscìp|ìnzqchenzrìscs
bcmusc ncìthcr thc |zbemteq nertcchnìcz| dìsceurscmncìrcumscrìbc
thcbeundzrìceIscìcncc(Gìcqn l ºº5). 1hchndìngsopìntezpp|ìm-
tìens,whìchzhccteurmztcrìz|cu|turc,mcdìcìnc,thcmì|ìtzq,zndvìnu-
z||yz||æpcctseIWcstcrn secìctìcs. On|yzncdumtcd pub|ìc mn mzkc
zppreprìztc usceIthc huìts eIscìcntìhc|zber, thusscìcntìstsznd pe|ìq
mzkcrs mustc|esc|yceerdìnztc thcìrcherts terczpthcgrcztcst hzncst
Iremthcìnvcstmcntmzdcìn rcsczrch.
5ccend, thccrìtìguceIscìcncc ìscscntìz| te ìts heurìshìng. 5cìcncc
gzìnsìtsp|zccztthctzb|cprccìsc|ybcmusceIìtspewcrtedchnczcem-
pctìng wer|dvìw.1hc"nzturz|ìætìen"eIhumzns,Iremthccve|utìeneI
spccìctethcbìe|egìcz|chzrzctcreIthcmcntz|,tctìhcstehewsucccs-
m||yscìcntìhccxp|znztìens hzvc bccn trzns|ztcd ìnte petcnt thcerìcs eI
humzn nzturczndsecìcty. Hewcvcr, nemìthstzndìngthcchcctìvcpcn-
ctrztìen eIscìcntìhc thceq ìnte netìens zbeut thc nzturc eIeur secìz|
znd psyche|egìca| cxìstcncc, z czrcm| scrutìny ìs rcguìrcd te zpp|y thc
cenccptuz||cssenszppreprìztc|y.L|esc|y|ìnkcdtesuchzpp|ìmtìens,thc
cenvcnc epcrztìen ìsz|se ncccsszq, nzmc|y, z crìtìcz| vìcweIthc truth
c|zìms mzdc byscìcntìsts. Wìth thcsccrìtìgucs, phì|esephy znd hìsteq
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
oIscicucc hudthcirmost prcssiugcz||i ug. A z|rczdydiscusscd, ou t
þ
is
brozd vic,scicucc ispznoIz |zrgcr hìstorìcz| dcvc|opmcutoIhumzo-
ìsmzudu|tìmztc|yhndsìtsc|IìuìtsscnicctopursucmmusoIzchìcvìug
humzn goz|szudìdcz|s.
bouudzrìcseIìnguìqdchnc thc rcz|ìtìcs thzt scìcncc cxp|orcszod
dcscrìbcs, znd thosc bouudzrìcs, whìch wc hzvc z|rczdy censìdcrcd i o
thcìr ìntc||cctuz| coutcxt, zrc hcrc cxp|orcd zsz pe|ìtìcz| ìssuc. I It
þ
c
pcrìod brzckctcd by thc 5ccoud Wor|d Wzr znd Kuhn`sStctr� i s
|zbc|cd"1woLu|turcs,"thcnourewncrzhæbccu "OucLu|turc,"zud
rzdìm|y so. Wc uewzpprccìztc how hrm|yscìcncc ìs cmbcddcd ìu i ts
secìæ mztrìx.1egìn zpcrspcctìvcouthìs ìssuc,wcmustbcttcrzpprcci-
ztc how thc "ucmork" eIscìcntìhczctìvìtìcs, hndìugs, znd cthos hzvc
dccp|ypcuctrztcdcu|turcznd ìu turuhzvc bccu mo|dcdbythztcu|turc.
A bruuo Lztourdcscrìbcs thc phcuomcneu, scìcucc ìs "b|cndcd," by
whìch hcmczustecmphæìuhowznìhcìz|ìtìstezttcmpt tedìsscctsci-
cncczwzyIromìtssupponìngsocictyzssomccìrcumscrìbcdìntc||cctuz|
znd tcchuìcz| zctìvity (Lztour l ººJ, l ººº) . bcyoud thc socìæ znz|yscs
thzt dìvìdccomp|cxcu|turæzctìvìtìcs ìn erdcrtecxzmìuc thcm æcuti-
tìcs, coutcmperzqsociz| thcoq zvcrs zgzìn zud zgzìn thc mndzmcutz|
ìntcr-coutcxtuz|ìætìou eIcomp|cxWcstcrnsocìz| ìnstìtutìous ìnwhìch
scìcucc tzkcs pzn. íorourpurposc, thcncmorkìszcemp|cxoIvz|ucs
thztboth p|zìn|yzudcevcn|yguidcscìcncc`sræon.
1hcso-cz||cd modc| oI "Lxtcudcd1rzus|ztìou" (Lz||ou l ºº5) dìs-
p|zysscìcuccæzvzst|yìutrìmtcucmorkopcrztìngìnzcommuuìcztìou
qstcm thztcouuccts thcvzrìous |cvc|s oIìtsdìscoursccenstìtutìvc|y, ¾
wc||æeumzrdsthroughzsupponìugsocìz|mì|ìcu.byzud|zrgc,scicucc
ìscrroucous|y (orpcrhzps¡ ustsupcrhcìz||y) rcgzrdcd æ hzvìugìtsowu
sephìstìmtcddomzìn, zndvcnturcsIonhhomìtsìnsu|zrìtywìthmutìou
zgzìnstz potcutìz||yìntrudìngpub|ìc. 1hc |obby premotìug scìcutìhc
rcsczrch zud trzìnìugreutìuc|ycxpouuds thcobvìous bcnchtsoIscìcu-
tìhc progrcssIertcchuo|o@zndmcdìcìuczndohcu trcztsthc|zypcrs
ou
tezdrzmztìcprcscntztionoI5cìcuccztWerk.Whcthcrthreu@pìcturc
eIzcomctcræhìngìnto|upìtcr,thcpìnpoìntzccurzqeIsmznmìssì|cs,
erthcin-vit Icnì|ìætionoIzstcrì|csìxty-meyczro|dwomzn, bzcou`s
cpoumeIscìcucc`spremìsctobcttcrsocìctyìscenstznt|yrcìtcrztcd.Not
se|c|ythcbusìucseIscìcutìsts,thcìrhudìugznddìsputcsbccemcìutcr-
mìucd ìnto thc ìntcrstìccsoIsccmìng|ydisìutcrcstcd pznìcs to bccomc
ìntcgrztcdwìthìusocìctyzszwho|c.`
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTETS 1
37
1hc pe|ìtìcz| uscs eIscìcucc zppczr threugheut secìcty. I ceustruc
"pe|ìtìm" zs cxtcudìng Irem secìz| pe|ìcy te cceuemìc rcseurccs znd
z
||ewznccs, Irem dchnìtìens eInermz| zud zbuermz| te prcscrìptìens
eIhcæthznd dìsczsc, IremcdumtìenznddchnìtìeuseIknew|cdgc te
dc
crìbìngthc|ìmìueIknew|mgcmdthcp|zccmrrc|ìgìeusbc|ìch hem
dcpìctìens eIsecìæ ergnìætìen te thc psyche|e@ eIceguìtìen, cme-
tìens, znd metìvztìens. In shen, scìcntìhccxp|zuztìeuszrc ìuscpzrzb|c
hem dchnìtìenseIwhewc zrc, prcscrìbìugwhztwcdezndcxp|zìnìng
whywc dewhztwc de. 5cìcnccthus mevcswc|| bcyeud thc|zberzteq
te thc nwmem, thc|cgìs|ztìvccemmìttccs, thcc|zssreem, znd thcpe||
beeth,wìthscìcntìhczdvìserscemprìsìngthc "hhh brzuch" eIgevcrn-
mcnt, scnìng beth demcstìc pe|ìcy mzkcrs (Grccnbcrg l º07, Gìcqn
zndíìgn l ºº0,|æehl ºº8)zudthescdcìgnìngIercìgupe|ìq(Om
l ºº7).Indcm,beundzrìchzvcbccndìmcu|ttedctcrmìucIerthescwhe
weuIdcìrcumscrìbcscìcncc`szctìvìtìcs ìn erdcr te chzrzctcrìu ìts ìnhu-
cncc,cests, zndsecìæcentrìbutìens.1hcmestjudìcìeusceuc|udc thzt
bunæìchzvcvmìshcd,ìIthcyhzd,ìnbct,cvcrcxìstcd.
Obvìeus|ycpìstcme|egìm |ìmìtszrcz|wzys zt p|zy ìnthcbeundzq
dcbztc.1hc hrstbeundzqìssucpcrtzìns te dctcrmìnìngwhcthcrsecìz|
phcnemcnz zrc zmcnzb|c te scìcntìhc scrutìuy zud crìtcrìz. In ethcr
werds,whztzrcthcrc|ztìensbcmccnthcnzturz|scìcnccszndthchumzn
scìcnccs! Whzt zspìrztìeussheu|d thc humzn scìcnccs scck zs scìcncc!
Or,mercmndzmcntz||y,zrcthcsecìz|scìcuccscìcuccìnthcszmcscusc
wcthìnkeIphyìc, chcmìstq, erbìe|e@!1hcsccendbeuudzqgucs-
tìenpcmns te thcsecìz| centcxtuz|ìætìeu eIthc nzturz| scìcuccs. hew
dewcundcnundscìcuccsecìe|egìcz||y!
1e zpprezch thcsc gucstìens,wc rcturu te thccrìtìcz| prevìses wc
hzvc ærczdyeut|ìncd zbeut thc preIcsscd ìdcz|s eIscìcntìhc ìuguìq.
1hccìnc|udcthcmbìguìtìcsrcgrdìugebjcctìvìty,thcdc|ìucztìeneIthc
|ìmìts eInzturæ scìcntìhcthceq, thczutìrcz|ìstcenccrn thztcpìstcmìc
judgmcntdcpndsupn|ecæmntcxtseIusc,zndthcprzgmztìczttìtudc
thztdemìnztcscìcntìhcìnguìq. Frcvìeus|y,wccxp|ercdthcthcerctìcz|
æpccts eIthìs preb|cm, zud hcrcwc turn te thc "beuudzqgucstìen"
ævìwcd byzc|æsìcsecìe|egìcz| pcrspcctìvc, uzmc|y, hew thc ímnm-
ton eIscìcnccmìghtbcchzrzctcrìud.1hcstru|cseIthc5cìcuccWzn
ctcndcd te thìs pe|ìtìmdemzìn, uet en|yæ æ| sìdcs Ic|t thc rcpcrcus-
sìenseIhìgh|yìcenec|ætìczttzcksenthcIeuudztìenseIknew|cdgc,but
æse æ thcdcbztccxtcudcd te thc mercmundzucìssucseIhewmuch
Sci ENCE AO TE QuE FOR MEING
moncygovcrnmcntsshouÍdbudgctIorbzsìcrcsczrch.lromthìsvznt
z
_
c,
scìcnccstudìcscrìtìczrccnggcd ìnzbrozdgoIìtìcaIgroccs.
Kccntdcbztcs nomìthstzndìng, ìntcnsc dìscuuìon zbout thc m
org
stzndìng oIscìcncc zssumcd ìts dìstìnctìvcAcrìczn voìcc wìth
|ohµ
Owq, who zdvoætcd ìn mc l ºZ0s mc ìnt@tìon oIscìcnccwìth
th
c
Iµrmom-goIìtìczIdomzìnægznoIhìsIìbcmIzgcndz.
WhcnaII ìsmìdanddencìncrìtìcìsmeIpmntæìaIdchcìcncìu,enc
maywcII wendcrwhcthcr thc reet dìmcuItydeu net Iìc ìn thcscpa-
mtìeneInatumIand meraI scìcno. Whcn physìo, chcmìstq, bìeIe@,
mcdìcìnc, centrìbutc te thc dctcctìen eIccncrctc humanwecsand te
thcdocIepmcnt eIpIans mrrcmcdyìngthcm and rcIìoìngthc human
utatc, thcybcemc meraI, thcybcomcpaneIthcappamtuseImeraI
ìnguìqø ø ø • (Doq l 920l l 948, l 7J)
5uchzmcIdìngwouIddìrcoIybcnchtmomI-gIìtìæIdìscounczndgro-
vìdcmcnzturzIscìcnowìthzbcncræìcuÍztcdscnvoIgugsc.
NatumscìcnccIesuìtsdìvemmmhumanìty, ìtbmuìtscIIhuman-
ìstìcìnguaIìq. ltìssemcthìngtebpunumnetìnatcchnìæandsp-
oæwymrwhatìsmIImtmthmrìucwns, butwìththcMM eI
ìusmìaIbrìng,ìuìntcIIoìndìspnmbIcnæ. ltìstohnìmIenIyìn
thcMM thatìtpmvìduthctohnìgucmræìaIandmemcngìnærìng.
( l 7J)
A wc wìII dìscuss ìn thc LoncIusìon, Ocwcy ìdcntìhcd thìs ìntcgrz-
tìvc gmjcctæ thckcy ghìIosoghìczI grobIcm oIhìszgc (znd I bcIìcvc ìt
rcmzìnsounæwcII), nzmcIytobrìngmcmìuoIscìcntìhcìnvctìgtìon
to mcìrmI humzn gotcntìzI znd mc tmnshgumtìon oImorzI dìscounc
mmmìn gcdzntìczr@mcntto ìntcIIì@ndyìnIormcddcbztc.
Whcn thccenscìeusncsseIscìcncc ìs mIIy ìmprcgnatcd wìth thccen-
scìeusncss cIhuman vaIuc, thc grcatcst duaIìsm whìch new wcìghs
hMìqdewn, thcspIìtbn thcmatcrìaI,thcmcchanìæ, thcæì-
cntìhcandthcmemìdæIwìIIbdutmyd. ( l 7J)
loIIowìng Ocwcy, Iztcr commcntztors Iìkc |zmcs Lonznt ( l º5J
)
znd|. bronowskì ( l º50) sou@t to sìtuztc scìcncc hrmIy wìthìnz trz
-
dìtìon oIgubIìc dìscoursc znd humznc vzIucs, but othcrs, Iìkc 5now,
wcrcgMgìcdwìthmcdìsjunctìonoIìntcIIoIìIczndthccuIturzI
s@r@tìon oIscìcncc ( l º5ºl l º04). 1hc gmwìngzutonomyoIscìcncc,
rcsìdìngìn ìts tcchnìczIìtyzndcsotcrìæ, sccmcd to go unchcckcd znd
to bc unchzIIcngczbIc. 5now´s zgumcnt rconztcd strongIywìth thosc
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS 1
3
9
suspìcìeuseIscìcncc`scu|turz| pewcr, znd merc pznìcu|zr|y, thc thrczt
oInuc|czr mzdncs.A|theugh 5newwzs zrguìngzdìhcrcntzgcndz, thc
centrætbcmccn thcn znd new ìs strìkìng, Ierhcwretc ztz tìmc whcn
scìcnccwzsgncra||yrcgrdcdæsemcdìstzntce|eny,z|eeI, ìInetmzrk-
cd|yscpzrztc, hem thcrcsteIsecìcty. but new, mestcemmcntztenso
scìcncczs m||yìncerperztcd ìnte ìts |zrgcrcu|turc te thcpeìnt thzt ìt
ì shghtìngtercgzìn ìts ewn "scnsc eIsc|I. "1hc pcndu|um hzs swung
wì|d|yìnthcpætIeurdcmdc.scìcnccmnnetbcgìvcnthcstztuseIsemc
zutenemeussecìzI zctìvìty, ercvcn eIz dìstznt tcrrìteq thztcnrìchcs
thcmethcrceuntq. Instczd,scìcncchæbccemccenstìtutìvcteeurvcq
sc|vcs, ìntcrprctìngthreugh ìts ewn rcIrzctìens ìssucs hcrcteIerc |ch te
cthìc, rc|ìgìen, zndphì|esephy.
Disntnging Fa ad Vaue A
Thc beundzrìcs eIscìcncc mzy bc drzwn ìn vzrìeus dìmcnsìens, znd
newwcwì||censìdcrcentcmperzqvìcws eIhewscìcntìhcknew|cdgc
ìs zpp|ìcd ìn pub|ìc pe|ìq dccìsìen mzkìng. A z|rczdydìscuucd, scìcn-
tìhczndmerz|dìsmursczrchìsterìcz||yìntcmevcn (5hzpìn l ºº4) ,znd
dcspìtczttcmpuztmzìntzìnìngscìcncc`sncutra|ìty, thc|ìncscgrgtìng
scìcncchem pe|ìtìczrcchzrzctcrìstìcz||yb|urrcd. 5e,whì|cscìcncchæ
typìm||ybccn ætzs zn zcterìnpe|ìtìcz| drzmzs, zs ìIthcscìcnccdìc-
tztcs encscteIcheìccvcnusznethcr,thczctuz| scrìpt ìshzrd|ysewc||
dchncd.Mercehcn thzn net, thcscìcntìhchndìngìszmzttcreIdìsputc
znd thc "bcts" thcn scncæ ìnstrumcnts Ierzdvemtcs eIenc pesìtìen
erznethcr. At thìsj uncturcwc wìtncss hew thccenstructìvìstcrìtìguc
mzkcs ìtsbìtc. nztum|rcz|ìtìcszrccenhgurcd byvzrìeuscxtrz-currìcu|zr
bctenzndthusebjcctìvìtybccemcscentctcd. 5ìmp|y,æbcuzrctrans-
|ztcd ìnte thcdemzìn eIpe|ìcy, cducztìen, sc|I-undcrstzndìng, zndse
en, thcyzssumc dìsputcd mcznìngznd thcebjcctìvìtythzt dìscevcrcd
zndrcpencdthcmæ knew|cdgcbccemcsznethcrvzrìzb|c ìn thcpe|ìtì-
cz|mntct.
Ocpìtcthcsczmbìguìtìcs,mebæìcvìceIthcscìcntìstdemìnztc
thcpub|ìc`sìmzgceIthcìnvctìgter.1hchrstwcwì|||zbc|æ"zbevcthc
my."1hìspcnenzprccntshcnc|Izszn ìnguìrcrIer1mthzndKcz|ìty.
5hcrcìdcwìthìnthc|zberzteq,shìc|dcdIremthcmcssydcbztceIhew
thchuìtseIhcr|zberzrczpp|ìcd (whcthcrìnwzrbrc, mcdìcìnc,ertcch-
ne|e@zt|zgc) erhewhcrhndìngmìghtprccìpìtztc dìrccenscgucncc
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
Ierthccuvìreumcut,secìcty, erthc ìudìvìduz|. I usu|ztcd ìu thcìrwo
r
k
hemdzì|ytrìbu|ztìeus,"zbevcthcIrzy"scìcutìstscxp|ercnzturc's
sccrct
s,
eb|ìvìeus te thcpe|ìtìcz|, secìz|, zud cceuemìcnccds eIthcsupp
er

o
§
cu|turc. Accerdìng|y, thc uetìeu eI"Ierbìddcu kuew|cdgc" (5hzttuck
l ºº0)centrzdìctsthcvcqctheseIthcscìcutìhccntcrprìsc,rcsærchmust
precccdìnwhztcvcrdìrcctìencurìesìtyzndnccddìctztc.
1hcz|tcruztcscìcntìhccge,"ízust,"dcp|ercsthccenccìtszudmor
a
ìrrcspensìbì|ìtyeIsuchzncutræstzncc. Hestì|ccrìtìcdccqthcscìcntìst's
mscucutrz|ìtythztIccdszrzvcueustcchue-ìndustrìz|secìctybuì|tupoo
z dìspzssìenztc rztìeuz|ìty, whìch ìscmp|eycd Ier knew|cdgcdìverccd
mm humn� vz|ucs.
bacen wcnt ìn scarch eIa phìIesephy eIaIìcnatìen. Thcy [scìcntìsts]
bmkbìthwìththcìrcnvìmnmcntbyutabIìshìngbmænìtandthcm-
scIvcs thcaIìcnatìvcdìchetemycaIIcd "ebjcctìvìty." bythat mcans thcy
seughtte ìncmthcìrpwcr,wìth nethìng-nescnsìtìvìtyteethcner
thccnvìrenmcnt-te bar thcìracccsste "thcdcIìcatcmystcrìcseIman
andnaturc."ThccuIteIebjotìvìtyh Icdscìcntìstsandthcgcncræpub-
Iìc, te thìnkeIocrythìngamundus-pepIcandbìesphcrcæ "mcrc
thìngsenwhìchwccxcrcìscpwcr."ObjotìvìtyìsìnpmctìccacIeakIer
meusncss. (Kesæk l 972, l 69)
1hìsvìsìenpenmys thcscìcntìst`spe|ìtìcæevcnurcsænemercthzn8
undìsguìscdchente premetc thcscìcntìst`ssc|I-ìntcrcst.
5e me pcrsenìhmtìensvìc Ier thcpub|ìc`s undcrstzndìng. Ou thc
bcnìgnvìw, thc"cemmen"pcep|c ræp thcmztcrìz| hæcsteIscìcucc's
chens. 1hcqnìcz| zpprzìsz| zgucs thztWctcrn secìctìcs hzvcmzdcz
ízustìzn bzrgìn,thcdc|ctcrìeuschcctseIwhìch ænetbmntm||cd.Iu
mchntC, whì|cthcscìcutìstrcmænsdìverccdmmthcsecìz|-pe|ìtìcz|
wer|d,thcproucteIhcr|zbernccnhc|c pcrce|ztcthmughìutcchue-
|egìæzpp|ìmtìenzud p|ìqdcbztc te bcucht secìcq. Objcctìvìqthcu,
zssumcs z pznìcu|zrsecìz| væuc. At bcst, such zn zgcnt ìs rcgzrdcd zs
bcnìgnædtmsmerthy. 1hccì|z|tcrnztcz|se c|zìmszcknew|cdgmcnt,
thcscìcntìstcmcrgcs eut eIthc |zberzteq ìn pe|ìtìcæ zttìrc te cngzgc
ethcr centctzuts ìn pub|ìcdcbztc en secìz|, ccenemìc,cdìmtìenz|, znd
cuItura| mzttcn. In thztæc, shc uet ìnhcgucndyzppææztrcpæ cr
whe weu|d premetc hcr ewn hcudìshvìsìen upen hcr Ic||ewcìtìzcns.
íremímkcnstcìnte Or. 5tmng|evc, thìsìm@hmpturmthcpub-
|ìc'swerstmmìczpcnenìhmtìeneIzdìspzrìtybcmonhewthcneu-
scìcntìstM thcscìcntìstzndhewthcscìcntìstM hcnc|I1hìsdcpìctìen
i dìsturbìng, temythc|æt.
SCIENCE IN ITS SOCIO-POLITICAL CoNTETS
5uchdìzbe|ìcz|czrìczturcszrc,byznd|zrgc,strzwhgurcscenstructcd
b)
v
zrìeus|ebbìcIerthcìrewnpurpescs.Onccthcpe|zrìætìeneIscìcn-
tist/
cìtìun ìs zbzndencd, cvcqenc, scìcntìsts znd|zypcrsensz|ìkc, turns
o
uttebcz|ìgncdenthc pe|ìtìæ spcctrum,zdvemtìngvzrìeuspesìtìens
wìth
vzqìngcemmìtmcnts te scìcntìhczrgumcntsIersuppen. In thcsc
d
cb
ztcs, thcuscseIscìcncc ænetbc ncutrz|. Wcn thchndìngeIscì-
cucc
zrc uscd ìn secìz| dcbztc, thesc hndìngs must bc ì ntcrprctcd znd
cxtrzpe|ztcd te dccìsìenszbeutpub|ìcpe|ìq.5cìcncc`s nmtalit ìs |est
bcmuschumzn 8 mcntszrc ìmpescdentewhzt, |ch ìse|ztcd, mìght
othcmìscc|zìm nevæuc. 1hc objtctvit eIscìcnccdcpcndsen rcgrd-
ìug nzturczs he|dìngnevæuc. Væucs zrc reetcd ìn humzn nccds znd
dcsìrcs, whcrczs nzturc, strìppcd eIguz|ìtìcs, tc|ce|e@, znd mcznìng,
ìs|chsccu|zrìud, væuc-ncutm, dìscnchzntcd. (In thcncxtchzptcr, wc
cxp|ercthìsæ cnìen.)
1hccmcìæphì|esephìcz|dìstìnctìenupenwhìchthcdìscuuìenrcu
cenccrnshewtedìhcrcntìztc"whzteughttebc"hem"whztìs"(Humc`s
Lw).'1hczttcmptteIrccbcthemvz|ucwzste|ìbcratcscìcncchemìu
mcdìcwthm|egìca|reets,zndrcmzìnsthc|ynchpìnIerscìcntìstsp|æd-
ìngzutenemy undcr thcrubrìceIebjcctìvìty, æwc||æ Ier thcìr crìtìc,
whedccqthcvìe|ztìen eIncutrz|ìtyeIscìcncc, whìch ebvìeus|yscnc
pznìcu|zrsecìz|@ndæ. butzsKebcnFrecterhæcegcnt|yebscncd.
ncutraIìty and ebjcctìvìty arc net thc samc thìng. NcutraIìty rcIcrs te
whcthcr scìcncc takcs a stand, ebjcctìvìty, te whcthcr scìcncc mcrìts
cIaìms te rcIìabìIìty.Thc me nccdnet havcanythìngte dewìthcach
ethcr. Ccnaìn scìcnccs may bc cempIctcIy "ebjcctìvc" -that ìs, vaIìd~
andyctduìgnmtew~comnpIìtìcaIìntcruts.GceIegìstsknewmerc
abeut eìI-bcarìngshaIcs than abeut many ethcr recks, but thc knewI-
cdgcìs thcnbyneIus rcIìab|c. Ceuntcrìnsurgcncy thærìsts knewhew
te manìpuIatcppuIatìensìnroeIt, butthcbct that thcìrknewIcdgci
g-dìrcctcddmnetmmnìtdmsn'twerk.
Thc appreprìatc crìtìquceIthcsc scìcnccs ìs net that thcyarc net
"ebjcctìvc"butthatthqÜ panìaI,ernarrew,erdìrotcd tewardscnds
whìchenceppæ.lngncm,knewIcdgcìsneIcssebjotìvc(thatìstruc,
ernIìabIc)bìngìnthcsc~ìcceIìntcrcsts. (l 99l , Î0)
1hìscrìtìm|stznoìsbzscdenthcæ cnìenthztscìcnoæpmctìccdìs
netzm -stzndìngcntcrprìsc,butìshrm|ybæmìnthcsecìz|zndsubjcct
te thcnccdszndva|uceIìusuppenìngcu|turc. 1hìs pub|ìc demzìn eI
scìcntìhc rcsczrch rcIcrs neten|yte thc rcncwz| zndsuppen thztsecì-
ctygìvcscìcntìhcìnstìtutìens, butte thc roegnìtìen thztscìcnoscnc
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
diverse interests in a political culture striving to balance competing
e
c

nomic and social forces. From this perspective, the relevant issue, be
o
n
d
defning the social origi ns of knowledge, is the requirement for
a
ph

losophy that focuses on the forms of power in and around the scie
n
ce
s:
"Why do we know what we know and why don't we know what w
e
d
o
n'
t
kow? What shoul we know and what shouldn' t we know? How
migh
t
we know diferently?" (Proctor 1 991 , 1 3) . In short, citizns must be cog­
niznt of the complexitie of science a plitic and not confse the inter­
pretative applictions of science with the businesof scientifc inquir. So
while it is appropriate that extrapolations be madeafer all , science is
the paron of knowledge acquisition-interpretations must be acknowl­
tdgeJ d int
e
rttton. We might well asume a cutious attitude towards
scientifc neutrality, becuse scientists, perhaps unknowingly, may hide
behind an objective mak to pursue unstated ideologic gals. This issue
fme much of the rdic constructivist critique and is the one point that
ause the most hostility among defender of science, who would arge
that in thee perere uses of science, we witness the politic usurpation of
what should be an autonomous endevor. In characterizing and acknowl­
edging scientifc accomplishments, we must still reliz limitations, flse
applictions, inappropriate expectations, and the dangrs of unbridled sci­
entism,3 where the limits of science, the contingencies of its methods, and
the boundarie of its applictions are not undertod.
The debate over science's place in society has a long histor. Four
hundred years ago, Bacon astutely recognized that scientifc knowledge
confers social power and technic master, as science turned from "a
contemplation of eternal truth to science as instrument of social prog­
ress" (Rorty 1 991 a, JJ). Indeed, some would argue that science is only
that which cn be traced to some technological advance. A pureyors
of technolog and power, scientists may be regarded as an i nstrument
of politic authority, whether in monarchial, totalitarian or democrtic
societies. Further, as the scientifc community has grown in the pat sixty
years, scientists and thei r supporting industr have increasingly been
characterized as an interest group advocting their method and product
for their own economic purposes. Unfortunately, there are draatic his­
toric examples of perere politic manipulation of science in the ce
ofStalinistic genetic (the Lysenko afir) and Nai racial vie, but these
are regrded by radica critic a only more obvious example of the polit­
ic nature of even normal science.
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS 1
43
A
umcntevcrthcusceIscìcnccIer pe|ìtìcz| pregrzmserthcdcvc|-
o
[
m
cnt
eIsecìæ pe|ìc|cs hzs hzd scvcrz| |ìvcs ìn thc mcutìcth ccntuq.
g
orìngthchrstIeurdcmdceIthztccntuq,dcbztccnIìstcdthc|ztcstscì-
co
tìhc
hndìngteµuczbeutthccguzIìtyeIwemcn,thcmcrìueIsecìæ
g
z
çìnìsm, thc Iegìc eIcugcnìc, znd thc rztìenz|c eIrzcìæ hygìcnc.
Fo||e
wìngHìreshìmz, thc n|ztìenshìpeIscìcncczndpe|ìtìmcndsteek
ou
uwmemugcnq,whìchrcve|vcdzmundbznthcbembmevcmcnts
¡
h
reu
@thcl º50s.Ourìngthcl º00s,pe|ìtìcæzctìvìsmthztwæergnìzcd
te
pr
etcothccnvìrenmcntgncdpepu|zrsuppen,zndìnthc l º70s,mc|
cmcìcncìcs, peIIutìen,zndgcnctìccngìnccrìngczch cemmzndcd brezd
[
ub|ìcmìenzbeutthczpp|ìmtìeneIscìcntìhcknew|cdgctezchìcc
rztìenæ secìæ pe|ìq. Ocbztcs Iecuscd en hew pe|ìtìczI ìdce|e@ mìght
ce|ernetenIyscìcntìhcgeæs,butthcvcqrcczrch pregrzms premetcd
a
vz|uc ncutm. Wì|c thìs guctìen wæ be|stcrcd byrcuwcdcrìtìcìsm
hemLuregnpst-Wer|dWæIIsecìzIphì|esephyzndAmcrìmnIcmì-
uìsm, thcerìgìnseIthccentrevcrsyzbeutscìcncc`s ncutrzIìtyzrcmerc
dìrccdytrzccd te thcbìrtheIGcrmzn secìe|e@z ccntuqzge (ærczdy
dìm ìn chzptcr 2).1edzy eur currcntIæ zbut thccenscgucno
eIg|ebæwmìngbrìngthìsmæ gctethcIerchenteIpub|ìcdìsceunc.
A wcstmcte ìdcntìq thcmnscgucuoeIpætpmctìcc, wc turn te
scìcntìsuteprmìctthc mturceIthccnvìrenmcntznd teprevìdceptìens
thztwìIIætcreurcvcqdzycxìstcncc. 1e stztc thcebvìeus. scìcnccpcr-
vadæccqìng.Wcdewc||teundcntzndìtswerkìngbcttcr.
Senc W Poltc
Ourìngmc l ºJ0s,secìe|egìst KebcrtMcrtenc|zberztcdIeurprìncìp|cs,
ernerms, bywhìch scìcncc mìghtbccvz|uztcd, z thcmcbreughtupte
dztcby5hc|denKìms[(200J).
(l) univmalim rcIcntehewscìcncctrznsccndsnztìenzI,cuIturz|,er
ìnstìtutìenæbeundzrìczndthcrcbyìszshzrcdzctìvìtyeIhumzn-
ìqztIzgc,
(2) communl rcpccts pub|ìcewncrshìpeIthc preducts eIscìcn-
tìhcìnvætìgtìen,cpccìzIIyìnrcgrdtethccxtcnsìvcgevcrnmcnt
suppnprevìdcdtercærch,
(J) Jiinttrtsttdnm rcguìrcs scìcntìsts te pcrIerm znd te ìntcrprct
thcìrwerkwìtheutcensìdcrztìenseIpcrsenz|gìn,znd
I 4
SciENCE AND TE QuET FOR MENING
(4) oranid sk�ptcim dcmzndstbztscìcntìstssuspcnd¡udgmcn
t
of
hndìngznd tbcìrzpp|ìmtìenuntì|dc|ìbcrztc rcìcìsm
zd
c.
L|esc|ytìcd te ncutrzIìty, tbcsc|ætme prìncìp|cssucttbzts
cìcntìst
s
sheu|dIævcthcìrìdce|egìczIbzuzndpeIìtìczIjzckcuztbemc.
Lcntrevcrsìcs surreundìng gubIìc peIìcy cenccrnìng ìnvcstmcn
t i
n
mzjcr scìcntìhc grejccts thzt zrc teutcd 8 tbc gcnuItìmztc, ìI
net
the
uItìmztc, gækeIscìcntìhcdccIepmcnt (c.g. , mr meIccu|zr bìe|e@
b
y
GìIbn l ººZ,zndIergznìc|cphyìcbyWcìnbgl ººZ)zrcIzrgc|y
coo-
nomtcthrccrcccnt8 mcnu.lìnt,tbcsìmìIzrgrcgrzmseItbc
p
¿
t,
such æ Nìxen` s"Wzren Lznccr" znd ethcr evcr|ycptìmìstìcpro¡ccts
tbzt grcmìscd tc dcIìvcr unrczIìstìc se|utìens, bzvc hzd dìszppeìntìo
g
mmu. 1hc ge|ìtìm| mgenschæbccnzgmwìngmnorn tbztrcseurccs
sbeu|dbcmercærcmIyzI|cmtcd tewrddìrcctmzpp|ìmtìenzndmorc
mcdcdyzchìczb|cgzIs. 5cccnd, scìcnozndìu U zrc net æì|yscp-
zmtcd, se gc|ìqmzkcrs hzvc bcccmc ìncrczsìngIyzIcn te thc pessìb|c
gcncsìs eIncw ìndustrìcs znd thcgrewtheIthesc z|rczdycstzb|ìsbcd.
lmgesìngpetcntìz|IìmìuenthcgrewtbeIscìcnccbæ|cdsemccrìtìcto
gmpsc thzt ìndccdthcrczrcIermseI"mrbìddcnknew|cdg" (5bzttuck
l ºº6). 1bc mest ebvìeus currcnt æc ìn gcìntccnccrns gcnctìccngì-
nccrìng. AdhnzI|y, pcrhzgs thcætcbzI|eIz ncprudcncc, tbcwìdc-
sgrædrognìtìentbzttbcpsìtìvìstìdæ|seIthcscìcntìhcmctbedbzvc
bcn wæncd mæns thzt tbc pmgrc znd zgp|ìmtìen eIscìcncc must
bcvìcwcd wìtb merc cìrcumspcctìen (Ktcbcr l ººJ) . ln etbcr werds,
scìcntìhctruthcIzìmszrcsubjccttezmercskcptìæ8 mcnt.
lnvctìgtenæìIymevchemthcIzbemteqìntcsecìcq-zt-|zgcby
zdvìsìngznddìrcctìngpubIìcpeIìq (c.g. , AhIerd znd Grcgeq l º80,
|æehl ºº8,GmnbrgZ00J).Hcrcwcwìtnc thcmzkìngeIzpe|ìt-
ìcæphìIeseghycIscìcno, mrìntbcjudìcìz|errcgu|ztìvczdvìseqgesì-
tìen, thc scìcntìstg|zystebeth scìcntìhczndbmzdcrhumzncccnccrns.
1hcægnmustehcrhcrbctgmhsìenzIepìnìenr@rdìngrìskbutzt
thcæc tìmc ncegnìu thztznyestcnsìb|yebjcctìvcjudgmcnt mzybc
bìzscd. 1hc hrstmvczt ìs te zcknew|cdgc tbzt ìntcrgrctztìens eIscìcn-
tìhcfc zrcnetnO ìIyìmpznìz|,znd thztscìcntìsuærqcemp|cx
gcnenzc. Frc¡ udìcìz|j udgmcnt bæ mznyseuro, semc ìntrìnsìcte tbc
scìcncc gcrsc (c.g. , z ccmmìtmcnt te z gznìcuIzr tbceq tbzt mzy bc
ìndìsgutc, crcenhdcncc ìn z ccnzìn mcthede|e@ thzt mzy bc gucs-
tìcncd)zndethcrscxtrìnsìctcthcnzrrewccnhnceIthc|zbmtcq(c.g
. ,
zpIìtìæzmIìztìenerrc|ìgìembIìcIthztmìghtæckscìcntìhcsuppn).
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS 1
45
_
|sp
utc,wbctbcrzbeuttbcszIctyeIzdrugertbccnvìrenmcntz|ìmpzct
¿[
a
cbc
mìcz|,gcncrz||yrcbcctszcentìnuumeIscìcntìhcccnzìntyz|eng
_

cbhctsmzyzssumcvzrìeusmcznìng.1bìspeìntrcìtcrztcsFrecter`s
c
¿
n
ccrns,wbìcb u|tìmztc|yzrìsc Irem scìcncc`s ewn gucst Ierzn c|usìvc
cc
n
zìnty.Accerdìng|y,tbcrmenzb|cdeubtsrzìscdbypbì|esepbcrs, bìs-
t
¿
t|zns, znd secìe|egìstscenccrnìngtbccpìstcme|egìcæ IeundztìenseI
sc|cntìhc ìnguìqbzvc secìz| censcgucnccs, nzmc|y zn zsscssmcnt tbzt
zpp
tccìztctbccemp|cxhctentbzt|ædteznyscìcntìhccenc|mìen.
1bcscìcntìst typìcz||y ìscrìtìcìzcd net Ier bcrscìcntìhcc|zìms but,
merc ehcn tbzn net, Ier bcr pe|ìtìcz| stzncc. 5bcwì|| ìncrcæìng|y bc
p|a
ccdìntbccentcntìeusre|ceIsecìz|zctìvìstundcrtbcc|ezkeIbcrpre-
|cssìenz|crcdcntìz|s,æscìcntìhcguctìenszrcpescdzndtbcznmcrsIer-
mu|ztcd bccemcontm|tetbcpub|ìcdcbztc, Ierìnstzncc,zbeutbumzn
nzturcercnvìrenmcntz| pe|ìcy. OIceursc, sucb centrevcrsywì|| z|se
cxpesctbcvu|ncrzbì|ìtyeIscìcntìhcknew|cdgc, tbzt ìs, ìts prevìsìenæ
andtcntztìvccbæctcr.Andtbescwbevìcwscìcnccæznermztìvczctìv-
|tymzy hnd ìt pzìnm| tescc ìnvcstìgztersdrzggcdìnte tbc trcncbc eI
currcnt pe|ìtìcz| wzrIzrc, wbcrc b|eedy centcstscnsucæ enc greup eI
scìcntìhccxpcrtsìspìttcdzgìnstznetbcr. 5cìcntìstsdcbztcmengtbcm-
sc|vcs zbeutdztzznd tbceqzs z mzttcreItbcìr nermz| dìsceunc. 1bc
pub|ìcIerum,ehcncxpescstbcscszmcscìcntìstszs|cssccnzìn (zndtbus
|csszutberìtztìvc) tbzntbc|zypub|ìcmìgbtwìsb.
5cìcnccdec bzvc |cgìtìmztcc|zìms te rztìenz|ìtyzndeb¡cctìvìqìn
pursuìteIìtsnzrrew|yznìcu|ztcd eb¡cctìvcs,zndtbcsceb¡cctìvcs be|d
ìmpenznt premìsc Ier bumzn wc|Izrc. but wbcn scìcntìstscngzgc ìn
pub|ìcdcbztcensecìz| gucstìens, tbcìrzutberìtyìssub¡ccttedìhcrcnt
ru|cseIìnguìq.Onvìnuæ|yznycentrevcrsìz|secìz|gucstìen,hemzber-
tìen tewtccentre|, scìcntìhctctìmeny typìcz||y z|ìgns ìtsc|Ien betb
sìdceItbcìuuc. Argumcntìsusuz||ypìtcbcdbcmccneppesìngcxpcrts,
zndcìtìunswztcb tbcspcctzc|ceIz centcst cenccrnìngwbesc dztzzrc
mercvæìderenwbztbæìssucbdztzmìgbtbccn|ìstcd.5kcptìcìsmzbeut
scìcntìhcccnzìnty,erzttbcvcq|mtzbeutbenzhdcknew|cdgc,epcns
tbcdortedccìsìensdctcrmìncdbycrìtcrìzetbcrtbznwbztzrcnermæ|y
censtrucdæ "scìcntìhc."1bcscdccìsìensmzy, eIceursc, bcdctcrmìncd
by meræ, |cg|, er, Irznk|y, pe|ìtìcz| rztìenz|cs, znd tbc scìcntìst tbcn
bccemczbìtp|zycrìnz|zrgcrsecìz|drzmz.
Wì|cguìdc|ìncs Ier pe|ìcy mzkcrs mzyehcrz przctìcz| se|utìen,
z|bcìtìmpcrIcctznd|ìmìtcd,zctìvìstssucbæícycmbcnd(l º78)zrgucIer
SCIENCE AD THE QUEST FOR MENING
mercrzdìcz|cìtìzcupzrtìcìpztìeuìn¡ udgìugscìcucc,whcthcrìurcg
zrd
to
ìts tcchue|egìcz| preducts erìtstcstìmeuy,whìch mzyhzvcbrezdsecì
¿
ceuscgucuccs. A scìcucccentìnucs tezmzss mrthcr sephìstìcztìen
zoq
cemp|cxìty, znd ìts preducts centìnuc te drzmztìcz||ychzngc dzì|y
| ì|c
,
cìtìunswì||bcìncrcæìng|ycenccrucd thztscìcncc ìsteesìgnìhmntte
g
c
Ichtecxpcruz|enc. Indccd,gevcrnmcntevcrsìghtzndcìtìunpznìcì
p+-
tìen ìn pe|ìqdccìsìen mzkìnghzs pregrcsscd stczdì|y Irem thc¡e
cu|
+t
zcoptzncceIthczutherìtyeIscìcutìhccxpcm ("1hcrc ìszcurrcutszy-
ìngzmenggevcrnmcntsuppertcrs eIrcsczrch thztscìcntìhc rcsczrch
ìs
thcen|y perk bzrrc| Ier whìch thc pìgs dctcrmìncwhe gcts thc perk"
[Kcnncth M. Wztsen, guetcd by Grccnbcrg l º07, l 5 l } ) te vìgì|zot
scrutìnyeIrcsærchbudgctszndthcpurpertcd bcuchts eIthcpregrzms
mndcd. 1hcgrewìugprcscucceIgevcrnmcnts ìn rcgu|ztìngthc|zberz-
teq,pretcctìnghumznsubjccts,cxzmìnìngrcsærch budgcu, zndmeuì-
terìng ìnvctìgters rchcctsthcvzrìeus dcmznds tecentre|thcceursce|
rcsærch(Grccnbcg2007) .
.
1hc grewth eIthc cnvìrenmcntz| mevcmcnt Ierccm|Iyzrtìcu|ztcs
brezd|yhc|dscntìmcnts thztscìcncc must net bc dcìhcd ìnte zn unzs-
szì|zb|c ìdce|e@eIthcstztcercerperztc ìntcrcsts. (íercxzmp|c, Oew
Lhcmìcz|`s s|egn, "bcttcr|ìvìng threugh chcmìstq" weu|d bczggrcs-
sìvc|ychzI|cngcd Irem thìs peìnt eIvìcw.) Neten|y weu|d such crìt-
ìc rcgzrd scìcncc wìth z skcptìcz| cyc, thcy weu|d Iurthcrzrguc thzt
ethcr Ierms eIknew|cdgczrc cguz||y ìmpertznt znd ehcr |cgìtìmztc
bzscs te zsscss scìcntìhc zdvzncc. 5emc rcgzrd such zrgumcnts zs, zt
Icæt ìncìpìcnt|y, "zntìscìcncc. " but ìn scckìngte cxzmìncthc undcr|y-
ìngc|zìms mzdc byscìcnccIer Iermu|ztìugeur censtructìen eIræ|ìty,
thcdcbztc muststrcngthcn thcscìcntìhcprejcct ìtsc|I 1hc ìssuc ìs net
scìcntìhcvzIìdìty,zhcrz||,nencceu|dræenzb|ydcnyscìcntìhczchìcvc-
mcnts. but ícycrzbcud znd |ìkc-mìndcd crìtìccndæverte p|zo thesc
zccemp|ìshmcnuwìthìn thcìr prepcr truth c|zìms zndteræscnzmerc
cncempzssìngphì|esephy. Adwhcn enc z|se censìdcrs hewscìcntìhc
mcthed mìghtscnc brezdcrsecìzIvz|ucs, thc cxzmìnztìen dcmznds z
prepcræsc mcnteIthcscìcntìst`sre|c.5cìcntìsuæccxpcncensu|tznts
,
net ìnb||ìb|czutherìtìcs. Wc must U thcìr knew|cdgccrìtìm||yæ pzn
eIcemp|csecìz|dc|ìbcrztìens(Iercxzmp|ceIthescwhede,sccLe|Iìns
l ºº2znd|æznehl ºº8).
In sum, scìcucc mnctìenszs z pe|ìtìm Iercc ìn whìch scìcntìsts vìc
wìth ethcr ìntcrcst greups te gzrncr pubIìc suppert. Octrzcters hzvc
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POUTICAL CoNTETS 1
47
a
_
c
m
ptcd te dcpìct thc prepeucuts eIsuch prejccts zs thc supcr ce|-
|idcr
zs
sc|I-zggrzudìzìugcempctìters ceutcudìugIer sczrcc cceuemìc
tc
y
eu
rccswìthìuz pe|ìtìcz| zrcuz. 5cìcuccthcu bccemcsznethcrprejcct
|o
tdcbztc, just|ìkcsubsìdìcs Ier mì|k, perkbzrrc| pztreuzgc Ierpub|ìc
work,erspccìz| D brczksIerstru|ìugìudustrìcs. Iu thìscentcxt,scì-
cu
tìsts
eccupyneszcresznctpesìtìeuzndmustpìtthcìr|ebbyìsuzgìnst
th
esc
eIethcrìutcrcstgreupssìmì|zr|yscckìnggevcrumcntsubsìdy.1hc
yamcru|czpp|y,zndthcszmcutì|ìtzrìznbctersdctcrmìucthceutcemc.
Outhcscp|zyìnghc|±,scìcuccìsjustzuethcrpznìcìpznt ìn mntcmpe-
gqpewcrpe|ìtìc.
Senc ad Hua Nat
ThckìnshìpeIhumznsteethcrznìmz|shæprceccupìcdthchumznscì-
cuccssìnoOzmìn,æbìe|egìstshzvcseughtteìnIermzudìnhucnothc
g
tìeuz|undcrstzndìngeIhumzu uzturcìnthcceutcxteIeurcve|utìen-
zqerìgìns. íerìustzncc, cve|utìeuzqcxp|zuztìeuszrc uewehcrcd te
c|ucìdztccemp|cxsecìz|bchzvìer|ìkcz|truìsmerthcccenemìceIcem-
mcrcc(dcWzæ l ºº0,Kì±cy l ºº7,5cgcntrz|c2000z) .Kccnthettepìc
ìuc|udc.IsIQmcìz||ycerrc|ztcdzndthcrcIercbæcdenìuhcrcntbìe|egì-
cz|dìhcrcucc!Oechemescuz|ìtyzrìscæzrcsu|teIzgcucerzc|ustcr
eIgcnc, znd ìs ìt thcrcIerc bìe|egìcz||y dctcrmìucd! 1e whztdcgrcc ìs
schìmphrcnìz, erznyethcrmcntz| ì||ucss, gcnctìcz||ydctcrmì ncd, znd
bycxtcnsìen,ìsbchzvìererpcrsenz|ìqucurenz||yhzrd-wìrcd-zndthus
gcnctìc!bcyendsuchmthe|ìcgucstìeus,bìe|egìcz|crìtcrìzæcseughtIer
whzt ìs"butìm|" (Kcntsch|crctz|. l º88), E. 0. W|seu, Iercxzmp|c,
pestu|ztcs thztsemcìnuztc (pregrzmmcd) bc|ìcIìu thc dìvìnc greun±
("cxp|zìns") rc|ìgìeus przctìcc (Wì|seu l º78) . Iudccd, thcvcqwzywc
thìnkznd thccegnìtìvc bzsìs eI|znguzgc zrc new hcztcd|y dcbztcd zs
bìe|egìm phcuemcnz, bcst uudcrsteed ìn thccentcxt eIcve|utìenzq
prcssurc(Oæmu l ºº7,Fìukcrl ºº7) .
1hcc ìssuc de uet sìmp|yrcsìdcwìthìnbìe|e@ but hzvc surrcptì-
tìeus|ycresscdevcrìnte thcdemzìu eIhumznvz|ucswhcrcmeræerì-
cntztìensznd humzn prcjudìcchczvì|yìnhucucchewthcsc mzttcrs zrc
mcdznddìæ. 1hìs tmnsìtìen hem estcnsìb|cebjcctìvc scìcntìhc
c|uztìentesecìz|epìnìeuh boumzdcchert|c |yìucurrcutpe|cmìc
zbeut thccuvìreumcut,cdumtìeu, rzcc,zbenìeu,scxuz|ìty, mcntz| ì||-
nc ,crìmìnz|dcìzno,erznynumbcreIethcrsecìz|gucstìensthzthzvc
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
sought biological, especially genetic (Lwontin l 99l ) , models of explana­
tion. At the most basic level, the ver possibility that science might answe
r
such questions already frames the kinds of responses that will be of
ere
d.
Undoubtedly, science is a powerfl ally that many parties invo
ke
d to
support or challenge contending positions in social policy debates inv
olv­
ing the life sciences. If indeed we seek rationality in adj udicting
com­
plicated social questions, it is expected that we would call on the
mo
st
sophisticted and informed scientifc opinion to derive the best solution.
But debates are ongoing about how, or even whether, biolog should be
used to formulate the human sciences. To what degree biolog defnes
human nature-for example, the degree of genetic determinism that
might program complex human behavior-has a profound infuence on
ethics. In efect, the question is to what extent people are responsible
for their behavior if biolog dictates that they are little more than their
genes, as opposed to autonomous, free moral agents. In fct, we might
well question the status of a psycholog that is reduced to aberrant bio­
chemistr. How do we judge and punish the criminally insane? What is
addiction? What are the eductional "rights" of dysleic? Is homosexual­
it "normal"? What, indeed, is normal? A answer to the lat, and most
basic question remains elusive, not only because of the complexity of
human behaviors, but also becuse the "normative" is alway contended
(Canguilhem l º8º,Foucult l º80, l º94) .
It is impossible to totally separate current scientifc appraisals from
the rational construction of social choices and mandates, which, in turn,
refect deep cultural bias and tradition. The epistemological and moral
debates are i ntertined, supporting each other in obvious and not so
obvious ways, so that the boundaries which would separate them end­
lessly shif, if not disappear. Scientists have become willing actors in this
discussion. They ofen fnd themselves choosing a line of inquir that
posits an ideological endpoint with profound social ramifctions. Thus,
for example, the Human Genome Project (HGP) received fnancial and
politic support ostensibly to develop better technolog for nucleotide
sequencing and information processing to construct genetic maps (most
immediately) and to sere as the foundation for advances in basic molec­
ular biolog. But it also has been enlisted to identif genes for various
"social diseases" such as alcoholism or violent behavior. Thus the HGP
has been trumpeted as both a Holy Grail for molecular biolog and the
Rosetta Stone for a fture biolog of human nature. Supported by many
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS 1
4
9
ç
mps, netz||eIwbemsbzrctbcszmczgcndz, thcHGFìsbetbscìcncc
z
nd
pe|ìtìc.
1bcpremìsceIgcnctìcmcdìcìncìsbzscd upendctcrmìnìstìcmusz-
tìen. 5ìmp|y, Ier ìuzdvemtcs, "tbcgcnc" ìnìtìztcs z strìngeIbcbzvìers
tb
zt
mì@tbcætcrcd ìIwc undcrsteed thc ìnìtìztìngcvcnt (tbc zbcrrznt
gcnc) . Aoerdìng|y, bcbzvìer, ne mzttcrbew cemp|cx, bccemcsz preb-
|c
m Iergcnctìc. Merz| rcspensìbì|ìty tbcn zssumcs ncw hccts znd tbc
rìpp|cchcotbreugbeutsecìctyzppzrcnt|ybzvcnecnd.
Fcrhzpsmcbæìccbæ|cngcenccrnìngtbcmturceIscìcnoæzsecìz|
ìnstìtutìengmìnstewbcrctbcbeundµbmon tbc|zbemteqznd ìu
surmmdìngm|turc ìsdmwn. A tbc ScìcnccWæ sewc|| dcmenstmtcd,
tbìs guctìen bæ preIeundpe|ìtìcæ evcnencs. 1bc rzdìcæ censtructìv-
ìstcntìguc8U tbcmestbestì|ìqzmengdcIcndcneIscìcnobcmusc
tbqundcnmnd tbzt tedoenstmoscìcntìhceb¡oìvìqundcrmìnc tbc
zutberìqeIscìcno te mc pub|ìcepìnìen. 5ucb crìtìcæ dcpìctìenseI
scìcno8, zordìngtedcIcndcneIzn ìnsu|æscìcno, pztcnt|y pncnc
znd rcpmcntm ìdce|egìcæ murpztìeneIwbztsbeu|d (znd C) bc zn
zutenemem, ìInetvz|uc-ncutm, cndczver. 5emc censtructìvìstcrìtìc
muntcrtbzt,æehcnæ net,zpznìcu|zrrcmcb stmt@bæ,wìtbìnìu
vcqmundztìens,zbìæ(ætbeu@usuz||y|chunsmtcderunrccegnìudby
tbcæìcntìst) tbzth bmzd secìz| mìhmtìensbqend ìts nzrmwrmrch
@n±. AC ìn pìntìstbcsuppngnctìcrcduoìenìsmgìvctezpzr-
tìmækndeIbìe|egm|dctcrmìnìsm(1zubcrznd5zrkr l ºº2).5ewbcn
cnuc m|m @ìnsttbc HGF,tbcydìd se net en|ybcmusc eImìsgìvìng
zbutìuæìcntìhcstmt@,buta bcmusctbqproìvcdtbztìtcensìstm
eImerct tbcsmtmdìrcopuqsceImzppìngzndspucncìnggnc.
Me|ccu|zr bìe|egy bæ zn undcnìzb|c zutberìty wbcn ìt rcmzìns
wìmìnznærewdemzìneIìnguìq,butcxtcndìngtbcrcsu|tseItbcHGF
te secìæpe|ìqprevìdczvìvìd ì||ustrztìen eIscìcncc`s preIeund ìnhu-
cnccencu|turc. 1bc nzggìnggucstìen cndurcs rcgzrdìng tbccxtcntte
wbìchscìcnosbeu|dcn¡eysucbzutberìtywbcnìtshndìngzrcpre¡cctcd
erzpp|ìcdìndemzìnssewìdc|yeuuìdcìtsmercenbedexpunìc. 1bìs
ìs tbcæc gucstìen Wcbcr pescd, znd ìt rcmzìns zs ve|ztì|c tedzyzs z
ccntuq@e, znd Ier tbc szmc rczsens. 1bc dctrzcters` gcncrz| cenccrn
zbeutgcnctìc rcductìenìsmdrzws Irem tbcìr rcsìstzncc te tbc undcr|y-
ìnggcnctìcdctcrmìnìsmeItbìsscìcntìhcpregrzm, wbìcb ìn turn |czds
te zpæìu|æ|ynexìem, dctcrmìnìstìcerìcntztìen tewzrd bumzn nzturc
(ì|sen l º78, l ºº8, Lwentìn l ººl , 1zubcr znd 5zrkzr l ººJ) . 1bìs
SciENCE AND TE QuET FOR MEING
ìs zn ìdce|egìcz| zrgumcnt, rcstìng en z cemp|cx zrrzyeIpbì|esep
hì-
æ erìcntztìens. 1e zdvemtcrce|utìeneIcentìngcntzndcemp|ì
mtcd
ìntcrzctìenseIcnvìrenmcntzndbcrcdìq¬whcnsuchzdctcrmìn
ztìen
ìs
ìmpeuìbIcrcvæ|s enIyepìnìen, netscìcntìhcknew|cdgc. 1bc st
Ncs
zrc hìgh, Icr thcvìsìen zdeptcd scck te dctcrmìnc tbc wzy wc rcg
zrd
cuncIvcbethìndìvìduzIIyzndm|Icctìvc|y.
ln sum, thcpe|cmìc thztswìr|cdzreund thc HGFwbcn hrstpro-
gescd¬thesccthìczI zndphì|esephìæ ìssucs thztccIìpsc thc tccbnì¢
guctìenseIbewtechcctìvc|ymzggncerpD thccnermeusguzn-
tìqeIdztz¬mzybc Ñìr|yrcgrdcd æ zncxzmp|ceIscìcncc`s pe|ìtì¢
gcnenz.1hcHGFzmpIyìIIustmtcthztscìcnccìsnetsìmp|yprccrìbcd
byIzberzteq-bæcd zctìvìtyscckìng "stubbern Ñcts," butz|se ìnc|udcs
me dczr|ydcc|zrcd peIìtìcz| zctìvìtìcs. 1bc prejcct ìs beth z |ebbyto
zccmcgvcrnmcntsuppenmrme|ccmzrbìeIe@zndgcnctìczndzpbì|-
esephìcz| dcbztczbeut thc mcrìtseIgcnctìc rcductìenìsm. 1hcdcbztc
thcnbccemcenczbutpub|ìcsecìæpeIìqìnæcbvcnuc. peIìtìm| æJ
hnzncìzIsuppenIerzpznìcu|zrbmncheIscìcncczndthczppIìmtìenoI
zgznìcu|zrphìIesephìæerìcntztìentesecìæìuuc.
1hcnIcntìuucrcgrdìngscìcno'speIìtìcìætìenbqenddchnìng
thcsecìæerìgìnseIknewIcdg, ìsthcrcguìnmcntIerzphì|esepbytbzt
mentbcmrmseIpewcrìnzndzmundthcscìcno. lt ìs, zhcrall,
nzìvcte rcgrd ìnvctìgtenæsemcbewìse|ztcd mm thcìr|zrgrsecì-
cqzndcenhncd te thcìr ìmmcdìztcrcsczrchcenccrns. mcrzII, wbì|c
@zrdìngtbcìrewndemzìn,scìcntìsustìI|sok te ìnIerm znd ìnhucncc
thc peIìtìæzgcndzeIsecìzI pe|ìqæ z rcæenzb|c cxtcnsìen eIscìcn-
tìhckewIcdg. lntbczrcnzeIsecìæge|ìq,thccpìstcme|egìæzndtbc
merzIdemzìnszrcìnscpzrzbIcbcmuscwc ìntcgrztc thcm æ ìnIermcd
cpìnìen en z cemp|cx centìnuum bcmccn eur sczrcb Ier "whzt ìs"
znd eur æpìrztìens Ier "whzteught te bc. "[ìn, hrm beundzrìcs m|
bcmuscthcÑctlvz|ucdìstìnctìen ÑìIs,whìch sheuId mzkc uspzuscznd
ccnsìdcrzncbewz ge|ìtìc eIscìcncc mìghtcmcrg (so, Ieræzmp|c
Kusc l º87,Lngìne l ºº0,GìIbcn l ºº7).
1hc ìndcpcndcncc eIscìcncc ìs crucìzI tc ìts bczItb, se tbzt zny
zncmpu te guìdcthc dìrcctìen eIscìcnoby peIìtìæ erccenemìc cen-
tm|smmtbcsonæpzneIzp|ìtìæprOìnsìdìeus,n&,znd
thmpznìcu|zrIydìmcmt te znæy, Iemt,znd dìnct. bcmusceIthc
surrcptìtìeus usceIscìcncc Iervzrìeus bzrmm| peIìtìæ zgcndæ ìn tbc
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS
p
ast
cc
ntuq, |ìbcrz|dcmocrzcìcshzvcbccomcpznìcu|zr|yzttuncd tethc
dan
gc
rseIzusurpcdob¡cctìvczuthorìty.1hcchzractcroIscìcncc ìn tbìs
b
ro
zd
cncdvìc¬no|ongcr¡ ustz|zborztoqchon,butzcomp|cxsecìzI
ìnstìtutìonthzt ìmpzcts othcrcu|tum| zctìvìtìcs¬rcmzìns z crìtìcz| ìssuc
|or
thcmturc.
Yct, dcspìtcmutìenzqprevìses,wc stì|| scck zuthorìty, ìInetccr-
tzìnty, ìneur pub|ìcdcbztc. 5eìnthcvcqzcteIdchnìngeursc|vc,tbc
scìc
ntìhc vìcw, wìth ìts streng c|zìms to ob¡cctìvìty, ìs uscd te dìsp|zcc
zndoumcìgbethcrmedcseI dìscoursc.1hcdìz|cctìcìseIcouncbìdìrcc-
tìonzI bcmusc eur secìz| znd cthìcz| ìdco|ogìcs mzyz|se ce|or scìcntìhc
ìntcrprctztìenseIthcnzturceIbumzn psycho|o@zndsocìzI bcbzvìer.
buteItbc me vccters, wc mercc|czr|yzpprccìztc thc ìnhucncceIscì-
cncc0R cu|turc, zndæ tbczutberìtyoIscìcncc hægrown, ìuìnhucno
on humzn nzturc bzs ìncrczscd ìn pzrzI|c|, znd Irom thìs posìtìen,wc
wìtncssbìe|egìæ tbceqzpp|ìcd to thc morzI domzìn. íorcxzmp|c, ìI
homoscxuz|ìty ìs rcgrdcd æ bìo|egìcz||ydctcrmìncd (zscìcntìhc¡ udg-
mcnt) , znd ìIbìe|ogìczI dctcrmìnìsm trzns|ztcs ìnto psycbe|ogìcz| znd
socìz|dctcrmìnìsm(tbccenc|usìeneIzhumznscìcncc),tbcnbewmìgbt
wc rcgzrd sucb bcbzvìerzs dcvìznt (z hnz| merz| dctcrmìnztìen) ! 1e
mzkc hemescxuz|ìty z trznsgrcssìen orzn zbcrrzncy, onc mustcìtbcr
ü crìtcrìzethcrtbznscìcncc`s(c.g. , rc|ìgìous orctbìcz|) erzttcmptte
undcrmìnczndrcmtctbcscìcnccuscdte rczcb tbìs unwzntcdcenc|u-
sìon. lncræìng|y, tbcceursceIcmp|oyìngothcrkìndsoIknow|cdgcer
rztìonz|ìtìcs bccemc|csstcnzb|c, zndsocìz| dcbztc ìscentcstcd enscì-
cntìhcgmundswbcrctbcob¡cctìvìtylncutra|ìtydìstìnctìenmustbcmrc-
m||y scrutìnìud. 1bìs comp|cxdìzIcctìceIscìcncczhcctìng eur merz|
stzncc znd eur merzI vìcws subt|y dìrcctìngscìcncc ìs, zt ìts bczn, tbc
preb|cmeIp|zcìngscìcnccwìthìnìtscu|turz|centcxt.
Fe|ìtìcz|chz||cngcszrctebccxpcctcdbcmusctbcìntcrruptcdbeund-
zrìcsbcmccnscìcncc zndothcrsocìz| zctìvìtìcs zrc notrczdìIydchncd.
1bìs preb|cm ìspcrbzps |css cpìstcmo|ogìcz| thzn cthìcz|, Ier bew tbc
berdcn zrcdmwnìsbzscd enchoìcc,choìccìsgroundcdenvz|uc,znd
vz|ucìszmerz|mtgqìnIormcdbyundcrstzndìng.Acdumtcdpub|ìc
ìstbcbctæsumcctbztscìcnccwì||bcprotcctcd,prometcd,zndundcr-
steed ìn ìum||cemp|cxìty¬Ierwbztìtohcrs,zswc||æIorwbztìtmn-
netprevìdc.Ltusconsìdcrzmsccxzmp|cbc|ew.
1
5
1
SciENCE AD THE QuEsT FOR MENING
A C Stdy Envnmentm
Clim fr G Scmce-baed Ethis
Hew ìs nzturc, zndcspccìz||yeurrc|ztìen te ìt, mcznìngm| te us,
zo
d
ìn thccentcxt eIcnvìrenmcntz|ìsm,whztzrc eur rcspensìbì|ìtìcsIer

e
U eInzturc! Ourzgc hæwìtncsscd zn ìncrcæìngscpzrztìen Irem
t
þ
e
nztum|wer|d. bethìndìvìduz||yzndæzcu|turc,wcspcndz|zgcpzno|
eur nztìenz| Ienuncenstudyìng nzturzI phcnemcnz Ier eur ccene
mìc
znd secìz| wc|Izrc, znd thc tcchne|egìca| preducteIthzt cndczver

hzdztrcmcndeusprìcc.Abìeccntrìccthìchæcmcrgcdìnthczttcmptto
premetc z humzncphì|esephyeInzturc." Instæd eIm||ycxp|erìngthe
merz| phì|esephythzt zccempznìcs thccnvìrenmcntz| pregrzm, I see
k
hcrcteshewhewvz|ucscmbcddcdìn bìe|e@hzvc|cdsemcteìntcrpret
nzturcwìth thìscnvìrenmcntz|scnsìtìvìty. Myzrgumcntcxp|ercszmu-
dzmcntz| cenmsìen cenccrnìnghew thzt "grccn" pesìtìen drzws Irem
bìe|e@,whcrc thc|ìIcscìcnccs hzvcbccnce-eptcd tescnczn ìdce|egì-
cz|zgcndz. Lnvìrenmcntz|cthìc mzybc|cgìtìmztìudbyscvcra| reutcs,
but I zm |css cenccrncd wìth thc merz| |egìc ìnve|vcd thzn te dcmen-
stmtchewbctszndvz|ucsìntcrp|zyìnthccrcztìeneIthcrìghtseInzture
mevcmcnt. Lce|egìcz| cthìc ìszn ìmpenzntczsccxzmp|ceIhew the
bctlvz|uc dìstìnctìen hzs bccn ìntcrprctcd¬cIcndcderce||zpscd-ìn
thcpe|ìtìca| zrcnz, znd thusdcmenstratcs hewcæì|ythc |ìnc scpzmtìug
cpìstcme|e@zndcthìc ìscresscd. In shen, I wìsh teeudìncz "merz|-
cpìstcme|e@"ztwerk.
Much eIwhzt pzsscs zs cce|egìcz| cthìcc|zìms thzt, un|ìkc ether
cthìcz| vcnturcs bzscd en rc|ìgìeus er mctzphysìcz| Ieundztìens eI
bc|ìcI, thcsc cthìcs zrc reetcd, ìn Izct "prevcn" er"dcmenstrztcd, "by
thcìncentcstzb|cbctseIz ncwscìcncCe|e@.Accerdìng|y, ìI|zbe-
rzterìcs can dcmenstrztcthcdc|ctcrìeuschcctseIzcrese|s ìn thcztme-
sphcrcerpznìcu|zr|ytexìcchcmìcz|sìneurrìvcrserzutemebì|cmmcs
ìneur cìtìcs, thcn ìtìsscnsc|css, ìInet ìmmerz|, tecentìnuc z|engthc
pzth eIcnvìrenmcntz| dcgrzdztìen. írem thìs pcrspcctìvc, thcrc ìsz
sczm|css jeìntbcmccn thc hndìngs eIcce|egìsts zs scìcntìsts znd thc
vz|ucsdrzwn Iremthcìrstudìcs.´
Whyzndhewìsthcc|zìmmzdc,zndìsìt|cgìtìmztc!1hcrczrcmzny
rcæens thzt mìght bccenjurcd tesuppenzncnvìrenmcntzI cthìc, znd
I wì|| en|y mcntìen enczndthcndc|vc ìnteznethcr.1hchrstìsz utì|
ì-
tzrìzn ìmpcrztìvc, whìchscckste reetcthìcz| dccìsìens ìnznebjcctìvc
SciENCE IN ITs Socio-POLITICA CoNTETS
I
S3
zc
cou
ntìngeIgzìns znd |osscs. by ìnvokìng thc powcr oIzn ob¡cctìvc
s
cìcncctezttzìnsomcrztìonz|ìdcz|,sccmìng|yìnnocuousìntcrprctztìens
o
|th
c
ob¡cctìvcdztztbcnscgucìntozmoræconc|usìen. butsuchìntcr-
p
t
ctzt
ìons, eIceunc,bzvcz morz| scttìng,whìchwbì|cerìctncdbyeur
s
cìcn
tìhcundcrstzndìng,ìshzrd|yncutm|.A Lucícrqputsìt,tbcrcìsz
q||ogìsmztwork.
( l )
1hc bìe|egìcz| scìcnccs, ìnc|udìng cce|egy, bzvc dìsc|escd tbzt
ergìcnzturcìssystcmztìcz||yìnt@mtcd.
(2z) 1bzt mznkìnd ìsz nen-prìvì|cgcd mcmbcreItbcergnìccentìn-
uum,znd
(2b) Lnvìrenmcntz|zbuscthrætcnsbumzn |ìIc,bæ|tb,znd uItìmztc|y
bzppìnc ,tbcrcIerc
(3) Wceughtnetvìe|ztctbcìntcgrìtyzndstzbì|ìtyeIthccnvìrenmcnt
( l ºº5, 88) .
Lìkc zny utì|ìtzrìzn zrgumcnt, enc mzy centcst ìts rc|ztìvc mcrìts. ln
thìs czsc, tbc cce|egìcz| sy||egìsm Izì|s tezcknew|cdgc tbc rc|ztìvìq
oItbc ìdcz|, "bcz|tb. "Mercevcr, ìtzsscns z nennermztìvc znz|ysìs eI
whztwc,dc hcte, zrc supposcd te|evcerzbher. "1bccthìczI crìtcrìz
bccemcs ìdcntìhcdwìtb wbztcmpìrìczI zntbrepe|e@tczcbcs uszbeut
humzn. . . psycbe|e@" (8º). lnæsumìngtbztwcz||shzrctbcszmcvz|-
uccenccrnìngwbztìsbcz|tby, znydcvìzncc thcn bccomcspztho|egìcz|.
And pcrbzps mestcompc|Iìng, utì|ìtzrìzn zrgumcnts czsì|y h|| prcy te
tbcpe|ìtìcæ centcntìenseIcempctìngìntcrcsts, Iercxzmp|c, Frcsìdcnt
busb`serìgìnz| dìsmìsszI eIcurbìngpctre|cumcmìssìens (ìn thchcceI
g|ebzIwrmìng) ìnerdcrteprotccttbcU.S. ccenemy.
bcæusceIthcdìmcu|tìcscncountcrcd bytbc utì|ìtzrìzn pesìtìen, z
sccond zrgmcnt ìsehcn mzdc tbzt merczpt|yì||ustrztcs thctbcmcwc
zrccxp|erìng,encthztweu|dæsumcthc mom| bìgb greund.1bìspesì-
tìenbuì|dsentbcìdcztbzt|ìIchæztels, tbztìs,goz|sbywbìcbe@n-
ìsmsergznìzc tbcìr bcbzvìorznd pbysìo|ogìcz| ergznìætìon te suppen
cnd-scckìngmnctìons.1bczrgumcntbcgìnswìtbæscnìngtbztergnìc
|ìIc pesscsscs ccrtzìn eb¡cctìvcs, Ior ìnstzncc tbc prcscnztìon ìnstìnct,
ìndcpcndcnteIeurbumzncersub¡cctìvc scntìmcnts. írem tbìs pesì-
tìen,tc|ce|e@b|euems|ìkczpre|ìhcbusb,sproutìngæscnìensìnmzny
dìrcctìens. Ltmcszmp|czIcwrcprcscntztìvcopìnìens.
íìrst,mnsìdcrhewzncmpztbctìcc|cmcntìsìntreduccd.íorìnstzncc,
Fzu|1zy|erwrìtcbowscìcnccdecumcntstbc|ìIcqc|ceItbcspccìcs,ìts
1
54
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENI NG
ecological interactions, and so fo
n
h, and at the same time recog
ni
z
es
t
h
e
uniqueness of each individual, which he believes may easily conven
to
moral perspective. A he writes:
This progressive development from objective, detached knowledge to the
recognition of individuality, and from the recognition of individuality to
a fll awareness of an orism's standpint, is a process of heightening
our consciousness of what it means to be an individual living thing. We
conceive of the orism as a telelogical center oflife, striving to presere
itself and reaiz its god in its own unique way. (Taylor 1 9
8
6, 1 20
-
21 )
The telos of the orgnism defnes what i s good for it, and the s
hared
sense that ornisms are individuals, like human agents, confers a mora
standing to them. Simply, teleological centers of life sere a the founda­
tion of value. Ad the entire enterprise rests on the science of biolog, for
a Taylor asserts:
certainly our acquiring scientifc knowledge about certain kinds of
animals and plants c help us enormously in the attempt to undertand
objectively the evetday existence of particular individuals of those kinds.
( 1 26)
Thus a biocentric value is insened into the biolog, putatively an objec­
tive, fct-based science.
Note what is occurring: the purponedly objective science is in fct
documenting valu� as constructed within an evolutionar and physio­
logical context. In this vein of thought, Holmes Rolston writes that the
organism is an "aiologicl system," an "evaluative system" as it grows,
reproduces, repairs its wounds, and resists death. He then slips in the V
word, value:
Value is present in this achieement. Vital sems a better word for it tha
biekgcal. We will want to rcogniz that we are not dealing simply with
another individual defending its solitar life but with an individua hav­
ing situated ftness in an ecosystem it inhabits. Still, we want to afrm
here that the living individual . ø • is per se an intrinsic value. . ø • The
organism ha something it is consering, something for which it is std­
ing: its life. ( I 988, I 00)
Then the ethic become explicit:
There seems no rn why such own-standing normative orisms Ü
not morally signifcant ( 1 998, 1 00) . . . . [Thus a] tree ha a trksbefore
the loger arrives, and the loger destroys it, it is aate-trlic, it h a law
(Grek: nomos) on its own [= aateoemes} .( 1 05)
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS 1
55
1c|es,csscntìz||yzdcscrìptìvcmedctbztbìe|egìstscmp|eytedcscrìbc
g
n
ct
ìen, Ke|sten bzs cxtcndcd te z merz| cztcgeq. Wztbccz||s tbc
[
oeJ
eItbce@nìsm, nzmc|ystrìvìngteprcscncìtsc|Izbìe|egìst,cvcn
c
g
p|e
yìngz tc|ce|egìcz| erìcntztìen,weu|dszyìszsunìvz| bcbzvìerIe|-
|
o
wìng tbc ru|cseIbìe|egìcz| htncss,wbcrchtncss rcIcrs te tbczbì|ìty
oI
tbce@nìsm te cnsurc tbccentìnucd cxìstcncc eIìtsgcncs ìn mturc
ìn

vìduz|s.1bìsìszprcccpteIcve|utìenzqtbceq, butKe|stenzssìgns
g me
mw|ucteìt.
VaIucìsnetjustanoenemìcpsycheIegìcaI,secìaI,andpeIìtìcaIwerdbut
aIsea bìeIegìcaIenc.VaIuc, erwhat ìsgmd Ierthce@nìsm . . . ìsIer
thcergnìsmatcIìccndstatc,an ìntrìnsìcvaIuc, netæwaysaIcItpnIcr-
cno. (257)
OIceuncsucbvæuc ìs ìntcrprctcd, zndzgìntc|ce|e@ehcrs tbc rztìe-
nz|cIereuræumìngtbzt¡udgmcnt.
Otbcrsbzvcstrctcbcdvz|uccvcn mnbcr. íerìnstzncc, Hzns|enzs
msumcstbztbumzns zrc tbc mestc|cvztcd preducteInzturc, znd tbus
en|ybummszrcmpzb|ceIdccìpbcrìngzndtzkìngrcspensìbì|ìtyIertbc
wer|dtbqcebzbìmtcQenæ l º84).1ru|y,zdìvìnc|yìnspìrcdAdzm,Ier
en tbìsvìc,wc ræd tbc |zweInzturc zndzd¡udìmtczccerdìng te eur
ce||cctìvcwìsdem.Mìcbzc|Scrrcsepìncssìmì|zr|ywbcnbc8O¦
ThcIìheIthccntìnspìuìsìneurhands,ìtìsabæìsætrucandbìth-
m tethìngæ thateIthcscìcnccsthcmscIvu.WcÜ cntcrìngapcrìed
ìnwhìch memìty ìs bccemìng ebjcctìvc. (LMem, ]anuaq 2l , l 992,
guetmbyFcrql 995,87)
VeìIz| lzctszndvz|ucsbzvcbccn supcrìmpescd, enc upen tbc etbcr.
Lmìæc|zìmsbzvc bccemceb¡cctìvc, erpcrbzpsmerccerrccdy, rzdìæ
cnvìrenmcntz|ìstsbzvcstrctcbcd tbcscìcncc te¡ ustìqtbcìr merz|zdve-
mq. ln tbcpe|ìtìm| demzìn,sucb mevcs mìgbtwc|| bc ìntcrprctcd zs
dìsìngnueusbytbesceppesìngtbcpesìtìenzdvemtcd. Nettzkìngsìdcs,
|ctU sìmp|yebscnctbzt( l ) tbcìnvekcdhctszndvz|ucszrccntzng|cd,
æd (2) tbcìssuc ìs netvæucpcrsc, but which vz|ucs zrc uscd znd Ier
wbztIzrgrzrgumcnt.
ln tbìscxzmp|c, tbcse-cz||cdbeundzqgucstìen bzs mevcd Irem
zsecìe|egìæ dccrìptìen bzcktez pbì|esepbìcz| enc, tbcszmcgcncrz|
dcmzrmtìen preb|cm ìdcntìhcd by tbc |egìcz| pesìtìvìsts cbzrzctcrìzcs
mucb eItbcdcbztc zbeutcnvìrenmcntz|ìsm. A tbczbevc cemmcnts
sbew, o|egìm| ctbìc bæbccn suppncd by bìe|egìcz| tc|ce|e@. 1bzt
SciENCE AD TE QuE FOR MEING
conncctìon ìs mzdc chonIcsIybcæuscoIthc hìddcn vzIuc structurc
o|
thcbìoIogìæIdccrìgtìon.tcIcoIo@ìsìtscIIznìntcrgrctztìon(sccbcIow)
,
¼chzvczIrczdydìsæthc ÑìIurcoIrìgìdIyscgzmtìngÑctsIroµy
z
[-
uczndthcrcuItìngcoIIzgscoIthcdcmzrætìonschcmz,but,ztthc
sz
mc
tìmc,wc8 Ñodwìthzn ìncorrìgìbIc mmngthztIædstozwækµ
org
µmcnt. lndccd, mustwc hzmccnvìronmcntzI cthìconbìoIo
@, zµ
d
ìInot, howwcIIænzbordcrbcgIzodzroundbìoIo@togrotcctìtsow
µ
ncutmìqî1hcmIIowìngdccrìgtìonoItcIcoIo@ìIIustmtcthcmtìIìqoI
hrmdcmzrætìons,zndbcyondthztghìIosoghìczIdìstìnctìon,wc
wìtncs
how thc coIIzgsc oIthc Ñctlwucdìchotomy ìIIustrztcs thc "gorosìty"
oIthcwæIs zroundobjcctìvc scìcno. Lncc dccrìbcd, wc wìII turn to
g
stmt@mrzmorchonct bmkcrìngoIscìcno mrmorædìscoursc.
Ïchak@
1cImIo@gìvc zn zccountoIsomcthìngby rcIcrcno to zn cndorgozI.
1cIcoIogìczI cxgIznztìons sgzn thc cntìrc rzngc oI bìoIo@, Irom thc
zggæcnt@zI-dìrcctcdnc oIcmbqoIogìczI dwcIogmcnt, tothczdzg-
tìvc chzrzctcr oItrzìts znd orgznìc systcms, to thc sccmìng"gurgosc"
oIbchzvìor. 1hc tcIcoIo@ hovcrìng ovcr both moIccuIzrdcscrìgtìons,
such æ cnpmztìcæædcsznd comgIcx socìzI bchzvìors, ìs to somc z
"sgcctcr" oIz tzìntcd modcoIthìnkìng. Whyî ln znmcrìng thzt gucs-
tìon,bothìnìuhìstorìæ zndznzIytìæI mntæt, wc mìghtdìsccrn morc
cIczrIy thc sourcc oIconmsìngtcIcoIogìczI dcscrìgtìonswìth oncs thzt
gìvcrìscto value.
1cImIo@ìsìntcgrætoznoIdcrnzturæghìIosoghythztsoughtzghì-
IosoghyoInzturc ìnhumzntcrms. LurrcntbìoIo@ìszscìcnccdwotcd
togrovìdìngmcchznìstìcægIznztìons,zndto thccxtcntthztztcIosorì-
cnu ìuthcoq,wcwìtnc vctìgc oIthcoIdcrmctzghyìc.1o gutthc
mzttcrsìmgIy, zIthoughwc dctccttcIcoIogìczI dcscrìgtìons ìn modcrn
bìoIo@, thqrcgrccntthc ìnzdcguzcìc oIscìcntìhcægìmtìons to ohcr
mechanical cxgIznztìons Ior orgznìc groccsscs, whcthcr ghyìoIogìczI,
dwcIogmcntzI, orcvoIutìonzq. Athough l bcIìcvcthztsuch tcIcoIogì-
æ dccrìgtìons ænnot bccntìrcIygugcd hom bìoIo@ znd mustcon-
tìnuctoscnczcomgIcmcntzqroIctomcchznìæægIznztìons,wcmust
zcknowIcdgcthcgrccìscscìcntìhcstztusoItls.
Mzny scc bìoIogy czught ìn z mndzmcntzI gzrzdox. 5gccìhczIIy,
bìoIo@ìs chzrzctcrìud by mo wzys oIthìnkìng. an objcctìvc grogrzm
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS 1
57
th
at
s
ccks zdcscrìptìonoIbìo|ogìcz| proccsscs, andz tc|co|ogìcz| modc
o
|addr
cssìngthoscpbcnomcnzìntcrmsoImnctìon.6 1c|co|o@cmp|oy
dcs
crìp
tìvccrìtcrìz Ior c|ucìdztìngsccmìng|y ìntcntìonz| |ìIc proccsscs,
sccmìng|y Izr rcmovcd ìnto thcmturc znd thcrcbydctcrmìncd by czu-
sa|ìtìcsguìtcdìstìncthom tbosc normz||ycncountcrcd ìnchzrzctcrìzìng
bìochcmìcz|zndbìopbysìcz| proccsscs. "Furposc" smzcksoIzsub¡cctìvc
pro¡cctìonorìntcrprctztìon,yctnomìthstzndìngthcscrup|csoIzscìcncc
dctcrmìncd te hnd mcchznìcz| cxp|znztìon (czuscs) , bìo|o@ must ncv-
crtbc|css rc|yen t�ls to ordcr ìts tbcoqznd mctbodo|ogìcs. 1c|co|o@
þnctìonszs tbc pre¡cctìon eIz pznìcu|zr rztìonz| undcrstzndìng, znd
a|thougb potcntìz||y dìstortìng, such dcscrìptìons orìcnt ìnguìq. Lct
mccmpbæìu, tc|co|ogìcz|dscpton do notsubstìtutcIermcchznìstìc
eplnton, butbcmuscoItbcdcscrìptìvccbzractcroItbc|ìIcscìcncc,
such scbcmzzrc comp|cmcntzqto pbysìcz| zndchcmìcz| cxp|znztìons
oIbìo|ogìcæmnctìons.1bìsduz|ìtyrcmzìnsz|cgìtìmztcstrztc@. 1bcrc
ìsnocentradìctìen,sìmp|y, mocomp|cmcntzqwzyscocxìsttodcscrìbc
orgznìcpbcnemcnz. 1hcdìmcu|ty, duc to tbc ìncomp|ctcncss eIcen-
tcmporzq bìe|o@, ìs tbzt wc cznnot tru|yscpzrztc thc mo, znd tbzt
ourundcrstzndìng¬whztcvcrscìcntìhccrudìtìonourbìo|o@ehcrsU
ìntrìnsìcz||y ìntcrmìncs eurbìopbysìcz| znd bìochcmìcz| dcscrìptìons
wìtheurtc|co|ogìcæerìcntztìon(Koscnbcg l º85, 255). '
lsubmìtthzttc|co|o@rcsuontbcvcqhu|t|ìncbcmccnfat zndìts
int
e
r�tton. 1c|co|ogìcz|dcscrìptìonszrcstì||ncccsszq,scnìngæpreto-
thcorìcs,zndthusrcguìsìtctep|zcìngthc "ob¡cctìvc"dztzìnerdcr.1ocxpc|
tc|co|ogìcæ dcscrìptìons,znd bcrc l zm rcIcrrìngon|y todcscrìptìonseI
cnd-scckìngmnctìon, wou|d strìpbìo|o@oIìtslgos. 1hcscìcncc must
cxp|zìn mnctìenmccbznìstìcz||y, thzt ìs, wìtb Izctuz| dcscrìptìons, but
tboschctszrcp|zccdìnsemc mnctìonz| (ìntcrprctztìvc) cdìhcc. 1bcrc
ìs ne centrzdìctìon but z tcnsìoncd comp|cmcntzry bcmccn preb|cms
stztcdìn mnctìonz| tcrms znd cxp|znztìonsgìvcn ìn mccbznìstìconcs.
Ncvcnbc|css, tc|ce|o@crcztcszn"zurz"oIìntcrprctztìonthztsurrounds
hcts.1bcmotìvztìon Iorzpurc|yob¡cctìvczccountrcsìdcs ìntbcIoun-
dztìons eIz nìnctccnth-ccntury scìcncc thzt, ìn ìts stzrkcst stztcmcnt,
zttcmptstegìvc hctuz| zccounts dcoìd oIìntcrprctztìon.1bczttcmpt
tepurgc tc|ce|o@hembìo|o@ìnthcnìnctccntbccntuqwzsmotìvztcd
by tbìs conccrn, Ier bìe|ogìsts wcrc zwzrc oIthc omì nous dìstertìen
tbztpro¡cctìon eIzn ìntcrprctztìon mìghthzvcon thccrcztìon oIhcts,
tbcrcbycorruptìngthcoqconstructìon buì|t upon posìtìvìst ìdcz|s. On
SCIENCE AO TE QUET FOR MENING
thìsvìcw, tcIcoIogìczI cxgIznztìons mìght scncæ zn undccIzrcd thc
oq
gosìngzsÑct,zndìnsuchconstmctìons,Ñctssìtuztcdbythcoqzrcthc
¿
uscd to crcct thc suggoscd objcctìvc cdìhcc to suggon thzt thcoq
ìn g
cìrcuIzr chzìn oIrczsonìng. but ìIwc zIIow zn objcctìvc scìcncc to j
,
jud@c cntìzIIyon thcsucooIìuzbìIìqto gmdìct ghcnomcnz
a
d
cohcrctoægIznztoqgrìncìgIcdomcdcongrucntwìthìuownthcorctì-
czIconstruct, thcnwcmzyIcgìtìmztcIyr@dtcIcoIogìædccrìgtìonsæ
gznoIthcvcqÑbrìcoIbìoIogìæIscìcncc. ltscnctoordcrobscnztìons
znd orìcnt thcoq, whìch thcn ìs tcstcd zncw. And morc to thc goìnt,
bìoIogìczIghcnomcnzsìmgIyænnotbcdccrìbcdìnìsoIztìon homcnd-
scckng, gurgoscmI mnctìon. 1hc vzIuc-hcc ìdæ ìs shzkcn, Iorzt zny
IwcI, such ìntcntìonzIìtyìs ìntcrgrctìvc, wcn grojcctìvc oIhumzn bìæ,
zndthusbìoIo@mmzìnsshzckIcdtozncgìstcmoIo@thztHthcmost
strìn@nt gosìtìvìst rcguìrcmcnts.
byzcccgtìngobjcctìvìqznd ìusuggnìng tcIos Iorthcscnìccæch
gcrIorms, wc zcknowIcdgc thcìr ìnhcrcnt Iìmìts znd zt thc szmc tìmc
rccognìzc thcìrgznìcuIzrcontrìbutìon to thc scìcntìhc cntcrgrìsc. 1hc
mìstzkc ìs to cxtcnd ttls to suggon somc brozdcr mcznìng, Ior thzt
cxtrzgoIztìon, tcIcoIogìczI thìnknghæjusdy bccn znzckcd. Lìvcn thc
gowcr oIthìs IormuIztìon Ior thcstmct oIIìIc znd ìts ghìIosoghìczÍ
ìmgIìætìons,cnvìronmcntzIcthìcìstsmìghtwcII gondcrthcwìsdomoI
groundìngthcìrownzrgumcnuonthcmundztìonomrmbykls zndìu
vzrìousægrc ìons.
lromWhìtchæd( l ºZ5)toOznìcIOcnnctt( l º8 l , c.g. ,Z8),numcr-
ous commcntztors hzvc notcd thzt thc ìntcntìons wc æcrìbc to nztu-
m systcmszrc zbstrzctìons oIz son, ìnwhìch z rztìonzIìtyrcscmbIìng
ourown ìsæcrìbcdto nzturzI systcms orbchzvìor. ltìs thìs rztìonzIìty
thzt cnzbIc us to undcnmndznd to ægIzìn thcm mìngourown ìntcI-
Iì@nt ÑcuItìc. ltrchcozdccg-sætm mnhdcnoìnthc mtìonzI ordcr
oInzturc, zndwc thusgroIounmybothcndoncznd rogìtuIztc Knt´s
gmjcct. A Hcrbn5ìmon ( l º0º) h notcd, thìs zmounu toznzIyìng
nzturæsystcmsæìIthqwcrcznìÑcu,zttrìbutìngtothcmthcæmct
oImtìonzI zdzgmtìonoImæs tocnds thztwc cmgIoyìn thcdcìgnoI
ourmzchìnc. bqondwhztLrc@qbztcon( l º80,c.g. , Zºº) zndoth-
cn hzvcundcncormæ thc nzvctcoIbIìwìngthzt nzturcmnmrmsto
our gznìcuIzrscìcntìhc rztìonzIìty (Adzn l ºº5, n. 85,g. ºl ) , znothcr
stznIìng ghìIosoghìczI rwcIztìon grcscnts ìtscIh thìs grojcctìon oIour
rztìonzIìty ugon bìoIo@ "ìszn cvcn strongcr gostuIztc thæ thzt oIz
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTS I
S9
rational intelligibility of nature, namely, that of an intentional rationality
in
nature" (75,emphasis in original).
Imposing goals on nature results from anthropomorphological rea­
soning. Intentionality, used to characteriz psychological or social action
of c
onscious beings, is applied to apparendy intelligent behaviors adapted
to the achievement of some goals obsered in individuals, whether human
or animal (Adan l ºº4,74). A illustrated, there are those who use the so­
called "teleological centers of activity" (to quote Taylor [ l º86} )a a node
of value and fom there take a short step to asigning a true moral stand­
ing of life. Of course, one might eaily enlist in such an ethical venture,
but let us do so with a more self-aware and honest rationale. Taylor and
fellow travelers make their move from a construal of biolog in which
their interpretation supports a metaphysical picture that ha a strong grip
upon our culture, one upon which the epistemological basis of teleolog
reside. The problem lies in lare meaure with the "semantic instability"
of the term teleolog.
In summation, teleological descriptions are, by their ver nature,
interpretative. In a strict biological context, they are used to defne end­
seeking fnction. The categor mistake occurs when one proposes that
purpose ha moral standing. Certainly human intentionality is structured
by a value system: we make choices embedded in an ethical construct.
But do purposefl animals have moral standing? The ecological ethicist
must believe that beyond sharing purpose, animals share with humans
the same biological origi ns of morali t itself, the ver matrix by which
purpose, whether human or animal, attains its moral meaning. 8 Thus
telos efortlesly jumps fom human to animal morality, fom which an
ethic fmework, purportedly built fom science, is erected. Of course,
as seen in this case example, the li nes of division beteen the catego­
ries we call science and subjective values remain blurred. Indeed, in this
instance, we have a particularly rich interplay that we can discern in the
historical development of environmentalism as a distinct response to the
challenge of industrializtion and the economic efects of mass popula­
tion growth in the nineteenth centur.
Environmetlim tReligou Orgn
The division beteen scientifc description and moral argument obviously
hbeen blurred in creating the conceptual framework for environmental
160
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
cthìc.1hìsìntc||cctuz| structurczresc Iremz cemp|cx hìsterìcz| d
ce
| ·
epmcntznddìvcrsccu|turz|Ierccs.OIthcsc,pcrhzpstbcmestìmp
erta
nt
zrc whzt must bc zssìgncd zs rc|ìgìeus metìvztìens. Indccd, mcntìcth
·
ccntuqcnvìrenmcntz|ìsm ìs reetcd ìn thc remzntìcpcrìed, whc
n
n
g
spìrìtuz|scntìmcntscc|cbrztcd thcsub|ìmcnztum| æzIecmeIrc|ìgìoos
zwczndwendcr. 1hcmem|structurceIthccentcmperzqGrccn movc-
mcntcxprcsscs tbìsdccpcrspìrìtuz|ìty.
1bcremzntìc`sìgnz|zchìccmcntwætemevcbcyendthcstrìcturcs
eIrcæendcveìdeIsub¡cctìvcwzyeIknewìng.1bqdìspcnscdwìththe
chente unìqræen er te brìdgc zdìvìdcbcmccn bumznsznd nzture,
butìnstczdstczdÑt|ybc|dtezncprìncìp|c.rztbcrtbznrcìdìngzbove
nzturc zkìn te zngc|s wìtb merz| rcspensìbì|ìty znd sc|I-censcìeusncss,
humzns |ìvc ìn nzturc zs csscntìz||ywì|dznd nzturæ. Lerrcspendcncc
bcmccn nzturz| |zwzndGed`s |zwz||ewcdthcstudyeInzturc te pre-
vìdc kcy meræ zndspìrìtuz| ìnsìgbts, znd mnbcr, tbc seurcc eIbumzn
vìnucweu|d bcdìscevcrcd,netby rcvc|ztìen, buttbreugbcemmunìen
wìtb nzturc (Lmcrsen l º7l ). Accerdìng|y, zny eItbcsecìz| censtrzìnts
en humzn zpprccìztìen eItbc nzturz| dìstrzcts, znd petcntìz||y cer-
rupts, enc`s cxp|erztìen eIbìserbcrcsscntìz| cbzrzctcrzndgeedncss.
In shen, hem Keussczu te1heræu, tbc wi/ cndewsthcvìtz|ccntcreI
bumzncrcztìvìtyzndhumznvìnucwìtbdìvìnczutberìtyzndìnspìrztìen
(1zubcrZ00l , l 77-87).
lnæscnìngtbzt thcnztum| ìs tbc bumzn`scercbcìng, tbcremzn-
tìctbcn mzkcs hìsmìssìen thcdìscevcq(zndrcu|tzntìntìmzq) wìthz
grìmìtìvc csscncc, whìch cennccts bumzns wìtb thc cesmes. 1bcwì|d,
bcczusceIìtsvcqchzrzctcr,mnnetbc"knewn,"thztìs,tmcderrztìe-
næìud,zndmzdczspccìcseIcenscìeusncu.A||tbescmedcseIknewìng
tbztwcmmtpunuczrcserqrcìduceIzprìmzqknewìng. lntbcwì|d,
rczsen decsnet ru|c, ìtmn, ztbcst, en|ymcdìztc. Nzturc ìs preccsscd
bytbc mìnd (znd tbcrcbycenstructcd [Lvcrndcn l ººZ} ). Hcncc, nzturc
ìscxpcrìcnccd ìn myrìzd vzrìznts æ z tvatv� preduct eI"tbcwì|d. "
1bìs rcsìduz| cxpcrìcncc mustbcevcrcemczsbetb zn cpìstcme|egìæ
cndczverzndzmerz|enc. In tbìsvcìn,tbczrcbAmcrìmncnvìmnmcn-
tæìst,1herczu,wretc.
lwish to spk a word for Nature, for abslute fe dom and wildnes, Ü
contrasted with a freedom and culture merely civil,-to regard man Ü
an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of Nature, rather than a member of
siety, lwish to make an etreme statement. ( l 980,9J)
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICA CoNTETS 161
bytzppìngìnte bìsewn "wì|dncss,"1herczu bc|ìcvcd tbzt nzturc
was
netrcdccmcdse mucb zs trznsIermcd ìn zn engeìngcrcztìen eI
hìs
ìmzgìnztìen. Senewwccnceuntcr1berczu Ier tbcsccend tìmc ìn
thìs
csszy, mevìng bìm Irem bìsgcncrz| chert te ìntcgrztc bìsscìcncc
wìtb
pcnenz|zcceuntìngeItbcnzturz|wer|dtetbcspccìhcmedz|ìtyeI
cn
vìr
enmcntz|ìsm. lntbztmevc,bcehcrcdzncscnsìbì|ìty. Hìsvìsìen
chæ|cngcdæcbeIustecrcztczunìguczndpreIeundspìrìtuz|rc|ztìen-
shìp
wìthnzturc.
In cbzmpìenìng thc ìndìvìduz| ìsm Ier wbìcb bc ìs mest Izmeus,
Th
oræupremetcdznìntìmzqwìthnzturc,wbìcbìnmznyrcpcctscem-
p|cmcntcdzcu|turz|ctbes.mcrz||, bc|ìvcd ìn zn zgræìzn secìcq, znd
Cencerd`smmcnm bzrd|yb rgdm ædìverccd hem tbcìrnzturz|
cnvìrenmcnt, wbìcb bc|d vìnuz||yz|| Ienuncs. Hcwzs scnsìtìvc te tbc
NztìvcAmcrìmn bcrìtzgc, znd|ìkcetbcrAmcrìmn remzntìc, rcgdcd
tboscerìgìnz| ìnbzbìtzntswìtbz onzìn dcgroeIzwc.Andwbcn p|zccd
wìtbìntbctmdìtìeneIAmcrìmcp|emtìen,1beræusbzrcdzrccrcno
Iornzturz|bczuqz|rædybc|dbytbescsmcbìngIernctmdcreutcs(æ
ìn tbcmceILìszndL|zrk) erstudyìng tbc hunz eIz nc|znd (Ier
cxzmp|cWì||ìzm bæmer|ebn|zmcAuduben). 1beræu`sp|zccæ
a zrcbìtccteIeurewncnvìmnmcntz|mevcmcnt|ìcc|scbcrc.
1berczu`s cnvìrenmcntz|ìsm drzws Irem z rc| ìgìeus scnsìbì|ìty
(HeddcrZ00l ) , wbìcb cembìncs me cempencnts. hrst, tbc netìen eI
tbc sub|ìmcceup|cd te z crudc pzntbcìsm, znd sccend, zn zcutc sc|I-
censcìeusncss, wbìcb Iecuscd bìs ewn nzturc study znd wersbìp zs zn
cxcrcìsc ìn ìdcntìqìngbìmsc|Iìn rc|ztìen te nzturc. 1egctbcr, z mctz-
pbyìceInzturcmdzmctzpbyìceIsc|meedcembìncdteehcrzpzr-
tìcu|zrvìsìen eIbumzns in nzturc. 1bzt prejcct bc|pcd Ierm eur ewn
cnvìrenmcntz|ìsm. Mznybzvcbccn ìnspìrcdby1beræu`s cxzmp|c, znd
mcntìctb-ccntuqcnvìrenmcntz|ìsts bzvc bzì|cd bìmzs tbcìrprepbct.
Frec|zìmìngznzntbcmtetbcsìmp|c|ìIc,tbccemmen|zbercr,tbcgeed-
nc eImzn ìn nzturc,1berczu, tbcAmcrìmn Keuuczu, teektbcmerz|
bì@greundìnzsecìctyzdjustìngtetbccbz||cngcseImìtcbìnghemzn
zgmìzncu|turcte zn ìndustrìz|enc. Hcveìccdwbztbcmcz medcrn
cheruseIcrìtìcìsmseImæs secìcty'scemmcrcìz|ìsm znd dcpcrsenz|ìæ-
tìen. lncc|cbrztìngtbcwì|dæzvz|ucsui gmn, bcmzdczmerz|c|zìm
zgìnstbìspccn,wbembcrcgrdcdæcerruptcdbyzsecìz|mcrmntì|ìsm
zndzdcbumznìzìngpesìtìvìsm.
1berczu`sìmpenznccæsecìz| rcIermcrzndzn ær|yspekcsmzn eI
cnvìrenmcntz|ìsmrcìdcmercdop|yenbìsmctzpbyìceItbcsc|I. Hìs
SCIENCE AND THE QuET FOR MENING
wasapartìcu|arrcspousctoacommonremantìcqucq,nzmc|y
tbcpr

¸
|cm eIsc| I-couscìeusucss tbat wì|| net abìdc zny rcspìtc Irem
ìts
o
__
rc|cnt|css sc|I-scrutìuy (1zubcr 200l ) . 1berczuehcrcd tbczntìdotcof
sc|I-knew|cdgczndsc|I-rc|ìznccprec|zìmcdzttbccndeIWa
ln. In
h
ìs
zdmenìtìen, bcadvìscd zn zcknew|cdgmcnt¬"Wc knew netw
bcrc
@
g
zrc" ( l º7l , 332)¬znd tbcn dcmzndcd cstzb|ìsbìngtbcwbcrc
ìtbz|
t
o
cbzrt enc`s ceursc te "hnd eursc|vcs znd rcz|ìzc wbcrcwc zrc
znd
the
ìnhnìtc cxtcnt eIeur rc|ztìens" ( l 7l ) . In tbc nìnctccntb ccnt
uq,
th
ìs
eptìmìstìcmætbztAmcrìmnswcrcmætcrseItbcìrewndctìnyaud
tbus czpzb|c eIcenqucrìng betb z centìncnt znd tbcmsc|vcs sìgnìhcd
z trust ìn bumzn rcseurccm|nCpìrìtuz|, cxìstcntìz|, znd psycbo|ogì-
cz|. 1bc trìumpbeIz pìenccrcìvì|ìætìen, enc whìch cc|cbrztcd God's
beuntyzndgeedncss, Hozcrìsìswìtb tbccIesìngeItbchentìcr. Iu
g
surgc eInatìena| sc|I-censcìeusncss, tbccnvìrenmcntzI mevcmcntwas
bern te cc|cbrztc Ged`ssp|cnder. 1berczu prcscìcntIy mzrsbzIcd thìs
spìrìtuz|bueyznqznd mzdc ìttbcIeundztìeneIz ncnzturcrc|ìgìou.
On tbìsvìcw, bcwæ z psz|mìsteIAmcrìmnsucccszndeptìmìsm,zud
Iermì||ìenseIAmcrìmns,bcìszprepbct(1zubcrZ00l , Zl º-Z l , Z003).
Wcn bcwretc ìn Wa/n, "Lvcqbìngìs stzn|ìng|y merz|, "1bercau
undcrsteod tbzt nzturc bzs mcznìngznd sìgnìhmncc]rbumzns zud
bewsucbvzIucpre¡cctcdupennzturcscncdspìrìtuz|nccds.mcrz||,Ier
1beræu, Nzturc W z seurcceIvìtz|ìty, zn erìgìneIspìrìtuæ rccegnì-
tìenzndunìenwìtbtbcUnknewn,tbcseurcceIz||bæuq,zndhnz||y,
tbcsz|vztìoneIcerruptmatcrìz|ìsts.
1beræu`s rc|ztìen wìtb nzturczresc hem zncxìstcntìzIscnsceI8
ìse|ztcd cge, wbcrc nzturc rcsìdcd "eut tbcrc," u|tìmztc|y mzgnìhccnt
bcyendbumznìmzgìnztìen,butz|ìcn,strzng,zndpetcntìz||ydgcreus.
1e bc surc, bìs sc|I-censcìeusncs, tbczwzrcncss eIbìs scpætìen Irem
nzturc,drevcmucbeI 1berczu`schemte ¡eìn nzturcmenìntìmztc|y.
1bztìrrcdccmzb|cscpzmtìenbcmccnbìmscIIzndtbcwer|dìnwbìcbbc
|ìvcd rcmzìncdzn zbìdìngpreb|cm, zndæwc gcrzt1bemu mmugb
tbcscspcctzc|cs, wc scc tbztcnvìrenmcntz|ìsm prcscnu z rcgensc tez
dccpmctzpbysìcz|dìs¡eìntcdncss. lneurewncm,wbcntbccnvìmnmcnt
tcctcrs ìnprcmrìeusbz|znccwìtbccenemìcz|Iydrìvcnæu|ts, tbccnvì-
renmcntæìstcrcdebzstzkcnenzncugcnqzndmmpc|Iìngmtìenæc.
but bcyend tbzt ìmmcdìztc crìsìs, |eekìngzt 1berczu 8 z remzntìc,
encz|ìcnztcd znddìs¡eìntcdhemtbcwer|d,wcM bewzn zttcmptte
bcttcrìntcgrztc bìmsc|Iwìtb nzturcehcrcd rcspìtc Iremzn cxìstcntìæ
SciENCE IN ITs SociO-POLITICAL CoNTEXTs
an
x
iety. So at the hean ofThoreau's environmentalism, and our own, we
fnd a
primitive motive for what is fndamentally a religious response to
a
ie
na
tion and danger.9 The intuition of nature's sanctity then addresses
a p
ri mordial human experience: honor the gods and revere them or be
sm
itten by their wrath.
The irony of employing a scmtfc rationale for this essentially rtli­
gou or mttphsial problem only highlights how science has become so
p
erasive to Western thought that its ofering must somehow be incorpo­
rted into a venture reiding well beyond the claims of objective knowl­
edge. My asessment points in several directions, but the most imporant
co
ncerns science's place in constructing our pmon/world. This humanist
p
roject draws fom many sources, and in the conclusion of this book, we
will eplore the challenge of integrating the objective with the subjective
to bridge domains that seem separate but fow feely one into the other.
We have emphasizd the tribulations of an insular objectivit operating
with a reaon onto itself Now we ponder how the product of objective
science might become personally meaningfl.
LOnCÌuãìOn
The Chalen
g
e of Coherence
M�aoioguamiosce¡�M a�dM mer�¡r�oemioeala�tbaoumtb.
John Deey, "Philosophy ad Civiliztion"
Wcbcgzn tbìscsszycbzrzctcrìzìngscìcncczs zn cpìstcme|e@zndeut-
|ìnìngìtsp|zccìncentcmperzqAmcrìmncu|turc. lntbcc|zsbeImctz-
pbysìczI vìcws zcccntuztcd by tbc Oevcrczsc zbeut ìntc||ìgcnt dcsìgn,
zceurtreem bztt|cwzgcdevcrzn zrgumcnt cenccrnìngrczsen,wbìcb
wæsctt|cdby|zw,netcempremìsc. lndccd,mctzpbysìm|c|zìmszrcnet
zd¡udìmtcd.dìhcrìngvìsìenssìmp|ys|ìdcpzstczcbetbcrwìtb|ìtt|ctrzc-
tìen znd cerrcspendìng|y |ìtt|c ìnhucncc cxcrtcd en etbcrcentcndìng
pesìtìens. FrcIcrrìngtecscbcwsucbdcbztc, scìcncc rcsts en ìtsprzctìczI
zcbìcvcmcnts znd tbcrcby mzkcs en|y medcst mctzpbysìczI c|zìms. Yct
ìtìs net se æsì|y cxcuscd hem sucb dìscussìens, Ier ìts erìgìnzI, zncìcnt
zgcndzcentìnucs te bccken¬tbc mctzpbysìcz| wendcrtbztdrìvcsscì-
cntìhc ìnguìq znd tbc hndìngs tbzt must bc trzns|ztcd ìnte bumzn
mcznìng. (Hcrc l zm rcIcrrìng te mcznìngìn tbc bumznìstìccentcxt,
net"mænìng" ìntbcscnsccxp|ercdbymcntìctb-ccntuqznz|ytìm|pbì-
|e
sepby[5ezmcsZ003j .)
lntbcmedcrnpcrìed,tbcLzrtcsìzncenstructìeneItbcmìndlnzturc

vìdccstzb|ìsbcd tbc tcrms eIpbì|esepbìcz| dìsceursc. Lzr|y medcrn
cpìstcme|e@seugbttedìsccrntbcnzturceIbumznpcrccptìenzndtbc
zbì|ìty te dcrìvc mcntz| "pìcturcs" eItbcwer|d. 5cìcncc, wìtb ìts |egìc
J66
SciENCE AND THE QuET FOR MENING
znd unìvcrsz| mcthods, dìdohcrz powcrIu| modc| Ier undcrstzn
dìog
bow thosc scnsoqhndìngszrc cxtcndcd ìntescìcntìhchctsznd
|zw
s,

gre¡cct Ocsmrtcs theughtweu|d rcsu|t ìn thcæìomztìætìeneI
nzto
re,
1bztdrczmwzszbrupt|yìntcrruptcdbyHumc,whezrgucdtbzt
mos
a|-
ìtywzsmcrc|yzpsycbe|egìcz|bzbìt(ercenccìt) ,zseppescdtez|ogì
@
er ìnbcrcntpregcrtyeInzturc. 1bìszgpzrcntzrtìhcc eImìn
d zwo
ke
KntIremhìs"degmztìcs|umbcr", hìscntìrctrznsccndcntz|pre¡
cctw¿
dcsìgncd te grevìdc tbccendìtìensbywbìcb mìndzddrcsscd thc
quzn-
dzryHumcprcscntcd.
Kzntpesìtcd tbzt because eIrczsen`s zutenemy, tbc mìndbcczme
tbc "|zwgìvcr" te nzturc (ì.c. , ìt prevìdcd |zw zs z greduct eIbumao
cegnìtìen znd ìmzgìnztìen) , znd, zt tbcszmctìmc, mìndgztre||cdznd
crcztcd ìts ewn humznsecìz| znd spìrìtuz| unìvcrsc wìtb z ræsen dcsìg-
nztcd Ier thzt purgosc (Ncìmzn l ºº4) . Kznt thus dìrcct|ycenIrentcd
tbcbumznlnzturcdìvìdcwìtb ræen`sewn "dìvìsìen,"zndbìsIermu|z-
tìentbcndcmzndcdsemcundcrstzndìngtercunìqthztwbìcbhzdbccn
sp|ìt. Hchì|cd,znd mucbeIGcrmzn ldcz|ìsm ìncembztìngtbcsub¡cc-
tìvìsm bcbcguczthcd zttcmgtcd te rcse|vc tbc ìmbreg|ìe (bcìscrZ002).
butthztpre¡cctz|se heundcrcd,zndwìtbthcæccndqeIpesìtìvìsm
ìntbc mìd-nìnctccnth ccntuq, zs z|rczdydìscusscd ìnscvcrz| centcxts,
tbcmctzphysìcz| cbz||cngcbcmmcsuberdìnztcteethcrcenorns.
Scìcno, |chte ìuewn nzrrew punuìu, æccndmte grcztbcìgbtsoI
tccbnìæmætcqeInztun,wbìch|zrg|ydìsp|zccdtbcLzrtcìzn-Kzntìzn
gucstìen Irem scrìeus phì|esephìcz| dìscussìen zs pesìtìvìst pbì|esephy
æsumcdìtsewncmpìrìcz|cendìtìenseIkewìng.1ethcctcnttbztthc
ìssucwzs cntcrtzìncd, ìt bcczmc, ìn tbc remzntìc Iermu|ztìen, bew te
g|zcc thc sc|Iìn rc|ztìen te thc nzturc ìt cxpcrìcnccd. Wbì|c tbc eb¡cc-
tìvc cempencnt eIthztgreb|cmW seen zdeptcd byz ncdìscìg|ìnc,
gsyche|e@, thc cxìstcntìz| cxprcssìen eItbc dccpcr mctzpbysìæ cbz|-
|cngcsondemìnztcddìscussìeneItbcsìgnìhmtìeneIscìcno`shndìng.
lnethcrwerds,wìtbeb¡cctìvìtygìvcn, tbc unrcse|vcd greb|cm bcmmc
subecvit. Andse, znyzttcmptte cmp|eyscìcnccæ zn ìnstrumcntIer
uniing ræsenweu|dbzvcmevcdzgìnstzstmngpesìtìvìsttìdctbztW
hrm|ycemmìttcdteìtsetbcrcenorns. Hewccr,tbcunìhmtìengreb|cm
rægpærcdìntbcær|y mcntìctb ccnmq, gcrbzps ìn dìmrcntguìsc,yct
nccrtbc|ædcmzndìngzttcntìen.Wbcrætbcnìnctontbontuqpscd
tbcsub¡cctleb¡cctdìvìdc ìneppesìtìen, semc mcntìctb-ontuqgbì|ese-
ghcnstì||seughtzsyntbcìs.Andsewccomcm|cìrc|cbzcktetbccbz|-
CoNCLUSION
|
cngc
eIhndìngcehcrcncc bcmccn thcwer|d scìcnccdcscrìbcs znd thc
p
cn
enz| unìvcncìnwhìchwcczch|ìvc.
OIceursc, enc mìght zrguc thzt "cehcrcncc" ìs ncìthcr ncccsszq
n
orp
essìb|c ìn z pestmedcrn wer|d. Much phì|esephìcz| zndcu|turz|
ctìtìcìsmcemmcndsthztvìcw,butlrc¡cctìt. lzssumczdìsscntìngpesì-
tìen
en tbcbzsìs thzt,zItbeugh ìncehcrcnccmzychzrzctcrìueur|ìvcs,
su
ch
dìs¡eìntcdncssìszsymptemeIzmctzphysìcz|crìsìs, netznecmar
tcsu|teIeurpest-ìndustrìz|cxìstcntìzIcendìtìen.Acccptìngtbc dcscrìp-
tìon eIeur prcdìmmcnt decs net rcsuIt ìn semc rcguìrcd zcguìcsccncc
thztwcmustzbzndenchertstercdchnceurpesìtìen.lncehcrcnccìsnet
thc"stczdystztc"eIpestmedcrncnnuì, overoming eurprcdìmmcntìs.
Indccd, ìINìcmchcdìzgnescd nìhìIìsm,hcæseprcscrìbcd ìtszntìdetc.
IIe||ewbìs|czdbcrc.lwì||netzrgucmypesìtìentbreughzncxcrcìsceI
|ogìc (zItheugh l ceu|d, censìdcrìngtbc ìmpertzncceIcehcrcncczszn
cpìstcmeIegìcæ crìtcrìen eItruth), ìnstczd, myerìcntztìen ìs bzscd en
zmoral zpprzìsæeIwhewczrczndwhztwcmìghtbccemc.1huslzm
mzkìngzcheìcc. lselct zwzyeI"bcìng-ìn-tbc-wer|d. "On tbcìntcgrz-
tìvc vìcw, scìcnccshìhs Irem ìts reIc zs zwcdgc bcmccn humzns znd
nzturcteznìnstrumcnttbzthc|pstebrìngusinto thcwer|d.1hìsìssuc
hzs z |engzndcemp|cx ìntc||cctuæ hìsteq, whìcb wc wì|| newbrìchy
rcvtc.
Senc W BWorldve
ln eurewn pestpesìtìvìst@c, tbc remzntìccemp|zìnthæstì|| net bccn
znswcrcd. 1hc "spcctztergzp" rcmzìns zs cherts te humznìzcscìcncc
by brìngìng thc eb¡cctìvcwer|d ìnte c|escr prexìmìty te thc knewìng
sub¡ccthzvcyct te yìc|dz mbzncst. lndccd, thcvcqdìvìsìen eIsc|I
zndethcrmzkcunìtythe preb|cm,gìvcnthcpewcreIthescìnstrumcnts
thzthzvcsesucccssm||ycenspìrcd te scpzrztc znddìvìdc. Nìnctccnth-
ccntuqremzntìcveìccdthcìrewnrcpensc,whì|cthcscntìmcnt, ìInet
tbcszmczrgumcnu,hzvcrcsurhccd ztvzrìeus peìnts ìn thc mcntìcth
ccntuqìntbcphì|esephìcseIHcìdccrznd Husscr|, tbccnvìrenmcn-
mìsmcmcgìngIremAmcrìmn1rznsccndcntz|ìsm(1zubcrZ003), znd
thcvzrìeus zntìscìcncc crìtìc eIthc l º60s (c.g. , Mìshzn l º67, Keszzk
l º7Z). Lch hzì|m zgnst m ìnvìdìeusscìcntìsm, znd whì|che|dìngte
tbcìrrcspcctìvcsccu|zrceunc,czchzttcmptcdtehndzpæszgctecsmpc
mccempremìsceIræsen'sm| cxprcssìen. ln thc rcccnt ScìcnccWzrs,
J68
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FORMENING
tbìsrcsìstancc tooktbcIorm oIrc¡cctìngtbcc|zìmsIorscìcncc`s unì
Q
_
e
cpìstcmo|ogìcz|standì ng.
Fu||ìngscìcncc back Irom ìts stcadIast z|ooIebscnztìen (zn
d
m¿
·
tcq)of naturctoìnc|udcìtscomp|cmcntzqerìgìnz| pursuìteIoh
crìn
g

p|ztIormenwbìcbwcmìgbtscckmænìngzndsìgnìhmtìenste
buma
ns
in nzturc bìgb|ìgbts scìcntìhc knew|cdgc cngzgcd ìn z |zrgcr bum
ane
pro¡cct. At tbcvcq |czst, somc stì|| scck z scìcncc tbzt mevcs bcyond
mzstcqoInzturctepznìcìpztcìnzmerccncempæìngW�ltnchauung.
1bzt rcguìrcs rccenhgurìngtbc knewìngzgcntwìtbìn z rcvìscd pbì|o
·
sepbìcz| cemp|cmcntzrìty-utsìdc obscncrlìntcgrztcd pzrtìcìpznt~
znddìsccrnìngtbcvz|ucstbztwou|dzI|ewsucbzceup|ìng.lbc|ìcvcthat
tbescsyntbctìcvz|ucs|ìcdormzntìnthcscìcntìhccntcgrìsc,zndwcmay
nowcensìdcrtbcm ìn nc|ìgbt.
Otbcrsbzvcz|seczI|cdIerz"rcturnte rczsen"(1eu|mìnZ00l )~a
brozd rczsen tbzt z||ews Iordìhcrcntknds eIdìsceurscwìth dìhcrcnt
stzndzrdsoIknow|cdgc to mpturc z spcctrum eIcxpcrìcnccdìrcctcd at
dìhcrcntcnds. 1bìs p|urz|ìstìc, przgmztìc rczsen ìs dcsìgncd net en|y
te ìdcntìqtbcdì|cmmzeIp|zcìngscìcnccìnzhumzncgcrspcctìvc, but
z|se te æk tbckcygucstìen, Hew mìgbtrczsenscncvzrìeus knds oI
crcztìvìtyto mzkc tbcwer|d morc mcznìng|! Humznìsm Irzmcs tbat
gucstìenzndtbcrcbyu|tìmztc|y brìng scìcncc bzckìnte ìtsIe|dsìmp|y
bypesìngtbztcbz||cngc.1bìs bumznìsm ìs netnOì|ymchumzn-
ìsm eI|ìbcrz| dìsceursc, sccu|zrìsm ìn ìts vzrìeus guìscs, nercvcn scì-
cncc8 z brzncb eIpbì|esopby¬zcb eIwbìcb cemmznds ìntcrcst ìn
thìsdìscussìen¬but ratbcr ìsz pznìcuIzrwzyeIrcgædìngscìcncczsa
humn-cmtn�d zctìvìty.
5ucbzpro¡cctbæmemz¡orcemponcnts.1bchntìstewævczwcb
eIbc|ìch tbzt p|zccs scìcntìhcknew|cdgc cen¡eìncdwìthethcr undcr-
stzndìng. 1bus,bcyondtbcmztcrìz| huìtseIscìcntìhc |zber, mcmost
preIoundchcctthatdcmzndszttcntìoncenccrnsscìcncc'swer|dvìc,er
æ Hcìdccr notcd ( l º54æl º77), zcknew|cdgìngmzt thcrc i zwer|d-
vìcztz|||1bctbcorìczndmctbedsmzthzvcdcmenstmtcdmcwer|ds
eIme|ccu|zr bìo|e@, tcctenìc p|ztcs, guzntum mcchznìc, znd se en
hzvc mzrkcdIyz|tcrcdbewwcconccìvctbcwer|d ìnwbìchwcIìvcznd
eurrc|ztìon to ìt. íunbcr,thcbumznscìcno, IerbcncrzndIerwenc,
hzvcbcstewcdtbcìrewn tbcorìcon bumzn cbzmctcrzndcenduct. 1bìs
scteIìssucsh||sundcrthcrubrìceI"scìcncczndctbìc"er"scìcnoznd
pe|ìq,"mzttcrswchzvczIrædyconsìdcrcd.
CoNCLUSION
A scconddìmcnsìonoIìntcgtatìoncomptìscsthchmì|yoIptob|cms
that
maybcca||cd thc romantic awakening. 1hcscco||cctìvc|yatìsc Itom
s
cìcncc`sìnstantìatìonoIthcLancsìansub¡cctlob¡cctdìvìdc,whìchp|accs
thc
obscnctouuìdc tbcwot|dtopcctatìtandtopcctathctsc|I.A|wzy
a
watcoIscpzmtìen,zndapptoptìatc|yso,sìnccscìcnccwou|d pugcìtsc|I
oIsub¡cctìvccontzmìnatìon, thìs"sub¡ccdcsssub¡cct" (íox Kc||ct l ºº4)
µccsthcmctzpbysìmcba||cngcoIhndìngbctsc|Iìntbcwet|ddcsctìbcd
wìthout bct. 1bìs tcIcts to sbìhìngtbc buman "stztc" at tbcwot|d te
human p|zccmcntwithin ìt. Sìmp|y,out mctzpbysìcposcsthccbæ|cngc
oIhow te mcnd thcwet|d, to makc thcwet|d¬bumzns and natutc
who|c@ìn.A dìscusscdìntbcptcvìouschaptct,enccxptcuìonoItbìs
scntìmcntmzybc Iound ìncnvìtonmcntz|ìsm,wbìcbdtawsItem betb
thc cznb znd bìo|egìca| scìcnccs, as wc|| as Itomz tc|ìgìous scntìmcnt
(A|bzncsc l ººl , Oun|ap2005).
1wcntìctb-ccntuqcontìncntz|pbì|osophcts,mostnotzb|yHcìdcct
( l º54æl º77, l º54bl l º77),Wcbct ( l ºl ºl l º46), Hussct| ( l º35l l º70),
Santc( l º43l l º56) ,zndGadmct ( l º8l ) takìngtbcìt|cadhomGocthc
( l 7º4l l º88)zndScbì||ct( l 80l l l ºº3,bcìsct2005), tcpcztcd|yaddtcsscd
thìs mctzpbyìm guzndzqznd ptovìdcd cemmcntztìcs zbouta tcz|ìty
dcpìctcd eb¡cctìvc|y, thzt ìs, zwot|d ìnwbìch bumzns sc|I-conscìous|y
tcsìdcscpzmtcdItomthztwet|d. ítomthcìtdcctìptìons,thccbaI|cngc
oIdchnìng mcanìngznd sìgnìhczncc oIhuman cxìstcncc took dìvctsc
courscs, but |ìnkìngthcm ìs thc evcttìdìng concctn oIhndìnga phì|e-
sopbìæ| mcans by wbìch te stìtch togcthct thc sub¡cct and ìtsob¡cct.
A scìcntìhcwet|dvìcw must bcttans|atcd ìnto tctms eIbumzn mczn-
ìng,zndwhì|cmænìngW tradìtìona||yohctcdìntc|ìgìoustctms,ethct
optìens cxìst. 1e zttìvc at sucb opponunìtìcs, scìcncc must bc p|accd
wìtbìn ìts wìdcst pbì|osophìcaI ca||ìng, and tbìstcguìtcs undctstandìng
scìcnccæpaneItbcbumanìstìctradìtìon.
íetbcttctotIotwotsc, Hcìdcggctsct thcztgumcnt ìn thcstatkcst
tctms by zttzckìng tbc vcq basìs eIob¡cctìhcztìon and tbc pursuìt eI
wbzt bc tcIcttcd to æ "ob¡cct-ncss. " bcyond thccommonconcctn tbat
znìmpctìæìstìcscìcnccmayunì|atcra||ycstab|ìsbthe pìctutceIthcwot|d,
bc pctccìvcd tbat "wot|d pìctutc . . . docs not mcan z pìctutc oItbc
wet|dbuttbcwot|dconccìvcd andgtaspcd as z pìctutc" ( l º54æl º77,
l 2º).([ìn, tbcìso|ztcdobscnìngLancsìansub¡cctìstbcpìvotæpbì|o-
sopbìmtutnìngpoìntuponwbìchtbccntìtccntctptìsctcsts.) Howcvct,
ìn Hcìdcct`svìcw, ìttcspcctìvceItbc potcntìa| Itccdom tbc ìnguìtìng
I70 SciENCE AO TE QuET FOR MENING
sub]cct mìght now gosscs, scìcncc`sdomìnztìonwæuItìmztcIy|
ìµ
ìt
c
_
bcczuscthcmcthodoIscìcncc, ìtsvcqcsscncc,cxcIudcs thztwhìch
_
not bc ìncorgorztcd ìnto ìts worId gìcturc, nzmc|y, thztwhìch czµ
µ
o
¡
bc rcgrcscntcd znddìrcctIy rcIztcd to humzns ìn thc znthrogo
morph
ìç
msmìcgìcturc. 5o,wcnbcyndthcovcmhcImìnggrccnooI
scìcµ
ç
in
ìndustq, cduætìon,goIìtìc,zndwcìndodìugowcrto ình
ucµ
c
c
orshzgcwcqdomìnìonoIour IìvCìcnohbcomc "tht thto
r
o
f
tht rtaf ( l º54bl l º77, l 57, cmghæìs ìnorìgìnzI), zndæ such,
zcc
ord-
ìng to Hcìdccr, thcscìcntìhc gìcturc rcstrìcu humzn undcrstzndìµ
§
wìthìn nzrrow boundzrìc. AscìcntìhcworIdvìw ænot mzkc z
tot
g
-
ìzìng cIzìm to knowIcdgc, znd hom hìs gcrsgcctìvc, wc hzvc bccn |ch
unzbIc to grobc thc shzdow wc rccognìubcyond thc bordcrs oIsuch
ìnguìq. 1hztzco ìsIìmìtcd to onIyoncwy ìnwhìch nzturcæhìbìts
ìucIL orìnomcrwords, nzturc ìs notm yægmd byob]cctìqìngthc
worIdìnmæurcmcnt, mcLzIìIæncrìtcrìonoIvæìdìq.
Hcìdccr´svìcws convcrgcd wìth othcrswho gcncrUIyzgrccd o
µ
thc Iìmìtztìons oIthc thcn currcnt cxgcctztìons oIscìcncc to grovìdc
z comgrchcnsìvc worIdvìcw znd z bzsìs by whìch knowIcdgc mìght
bc unìhcd undcr ìts zusgìcc, Ior cxzmgIc, ¼hìtchczd ( l º25), zs wc||
zs Husscr|, whodrzmztìcæIygoscdthc chUIcngc ìn Tht Cri of tht
Eurptan Scmct
McrcIy hct-mìndcd scìcnccs makc mcrcIy Iact-mìndcd pcepIc. . . .
Scìcntìhc,ebjotìvc truth ìsecImìvcIyamattcreIæmIìshìngwhat thc
werId, thcphysìcaI Ü wch Ü thcspìrìtuaIwerId, ìs ìn]m. but L thc
werId, and human cxìstcncc ìn ìt, truthmIy havca mmnìng ìIth� scì-
cnomìuÜ tmcenIywhatìsebjoìwIymIìshmìnt hshìen.
( l 9J5ll 970,67)
¼hzt bcgzn æ Ocsczrtcs´ Orczm, bcczmc HusscrI´s nìghtmzrc,
z ghìIosoghy thztsoughtto dccrìbc nzturc ìn IormzI tcrms (ì.c.,gco-
mctrìæIyormzthcmztìæIy) hæIchscìcnoæ"zrcìduzI conogt" (º).
by thìs, HusscrÍ notcd thzt "mctzghyìczI" or"ghìIosoghìæ" gmbIcms
thztshouIdstìII bcbmzdIyIìnkd toscìcnoundcrthcmbrìcoImtìonzI
ìnguìqwcrcnowscgzmtcdovcrthccrìtcrìonoIÑct. lnzgowcrmIscnsc,
"gosìtìvìsm . . . dcægìtztc ghìIosoghy" (º) byI@ìtìmìzìngoncIorm oI
knowIcd@ztthcægcnscoIznothcr. 5odcsgìtcKnt´sowndcgìctìonoI
thmmtìæI zndgmctìæI ræonunìtcdundcrzcommon rcguIztìvc bzn-
ncr, thzt dìvìsìonW nwcrtmIymcndcd. 1hc "crìsìs" bctowcd by thc
scìcnorcìdcìnthcìrscgzmtìonhomthcìrorìgìnzIghìIosoghìæmun-
CoNCLUSION 1
7
1
datìons (Hopp 2008) . 1hìs rcsu|tcd ìn dìvìdcd rztìouz|ìtìcs znd zcorrc-
sj
on
dìngìuzbì|ìtytozddrcsshumzn ìntcrcstszsdchncd ìn zhumznìstìc
|ta
mcerk,orzsHusscr|putìt,"ìnthìsvìtz|stztcoInccd. . . thìsscìcncc
ha nothìngteszytous" ( l º35l l º70,6).
Husscr|`scrìtìcìsmcenIrontspesìtìvìsmìntcrmsguìtcdìverccdIrem
an)
tcchne|ogìcz|ìnhucncccxcncdonthcwìdcrsocìz|demæn. Hcdrw
thc
dìstìnctìon bcmccn scìcncc, z product eIrczsen, znd rczson ìn ìts
cxìstcntìz| znd mctzphysìcz| ro|cs (thc vìtz| seurcc eIscìcntìhc ìnguìq)
torcìtcmtcthcerìgìnz| romzntìccomp|zìnt. ' Husscr| cz||cd Ierzcehcr-
cut rczson,z mcznseIunìqìngcxpcrìcncc ìn ìtsvzrìouscxprcssìons,se
thc "crìsìs"wzsprcscntcdæ z rchcctìon eIthcdccp|ydìvìsìvc nzturceI
mokìndseIknew|cdgc. Inscckìngto ctzb|ìsh z cemmenphì|esophì-
mgroundìngIerczch sphcrcoIcxpcrìcncc, Husscr| rcvìsìtcdthc"unìty
oIrcæen"preb|cmbcguczthcdby Knt (Hzncy l º8º,Ncìmzn l ºº4).
Funhcrmerc,IerHusscr|,thccrìsìswzsnet|ìmìtcdtescìcnccorphì|ose-
phybutrchcctcdz mndzmcntz| chz||cngcto Lurepczn cu|turz| |ìIc, ìts
totz|Etm
MznytrìbutzrìcshzvcIcdìntethczbzndenmcnteIzunìqìngunìvcr-
s phì|esephy. 1e thcAng|eAcrìmnczr, such spccuIztìen sccms net
on|yIercìgn, butstrzngc|ywhìmsìcz| zndcvcnchctc. íerthìsdubìeus
greup,scìcntìhcrczson ìsæsìgncd tegovcrn encdomzìneIknew|cdgc,
znd ethcr kìnds eIrcæen zrc|chto mzttcrseIvz|ucznd cthìc. Indod,
|ìncshzvcbccn drzwn prccìsc|yenthìsbzsìs,zndthoscwhodìsmrd thc
vcqpossìbì|ìtyeIsomccnvc|epìng phì|osophybzsìcz||yìgnorcHusscr|`s
prejccterdìsmìss ìtæ mìscenccìvcd. íerthosc ìn thzt rcjcctìngczmp,
"mu|tìIecz|"ræenchzrzctcrìæhumzn|ìIc,zndtepursucHuucr|`sprej-
cctsmzckeIcc|ìpscdmctzphysìc. Indccd,thcmcntìcth-ccntuqphì|es-
ephìcszttcmptìngthc Husscr|ìzn cntcrprìsCìstcntìz|ìsm, Mznìsm,
structurz|ìsm, Hcìdcggzrìzn phcnomcne|ogy-hzvcczchprovcn ìncz-
pzb|ceIthc tzsk zssìgncd thcmsc|vcs. Instczd, Io||ewìngWìttgcnstcìn,
znæytìc phì|esephcrs hzvc sought to showthztthcvcqcenccptìoneI
suchzvcnturc ìs mìsconstrucd. Ironìcz||y,thìsgcncrz| posturc mzywc|I
bcthcmostcndurìngoIthccentrìbutìensmzdcbythc|ogìca|posìtìvìsu,
IerwhìIcthcybì|cd to Iermz|ìuscìcncc,thcysuccccdcd ìndìscrcdìtìng
prejo such zs Husscr|`s. I tzkcthìs dìvìsìon ægìvcn. zn ìrrccencì|zb|c
dìhcrcncc ìn thcWìttgcnstcìnìzn zndHcìdcrìzncompctìngconccp-
tìens eIcentcmporzqphì|esephytrzns|ztcs ìnto dìvcrgcnt ìntc||cctuz|
æpìrztìens znd dìhcrcnt phì|osophìcz| cxpcctztìens. Hewcvcr, ìIwc
I7
1 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
zssumcz przgmztìstorìcntztìon,oncdìrcctcd zttbchumzn uscoIscì-
cncc,pcrbzpszmorcsztìsqìngunìhmtìonmìgbtdcvc|op.¨
Brdg te Dide
1bcnccdIerhndìngmænìng,tbìsrc|ìcoIznzncìcntmctzpbyìc,rcsì
dcs
dccp|y wìtbìn bumzn psycbe|e@, znd scìcncc ìs bzrd|y ìmmuncIrom
bcìngce-eptcdIortbìs|zgcrpurposc. lndccd,ìIscìcntìhcknew|cdgcb
¿
bccemczpzrzgoneItrutb mdzsourcceIwendcrztnzturc`serdcrznd
mnctìon,bewcou|d tbosc hndìngs rcmzìn ìmmuncIrem bcìngp|zccd
wìtbìnz|zrgrcontcxt!HcnrìAdznsucststbzt tbìs mctzpbysìcz| pos-
turc rcsu|ts hem z proIeund dcsìrc Ier scìcncc teprevìdczcemprcbcn-
sìvccxp|znztìoneInzturc. HcrcIcrstotbìsæzmystìæ|æpìmtìen.
The need for an explanation of reality is, fndamentally, antiscientifc.
The stisfctor eplanation is a bnus, the ethetic pinnacle that accom­
panies and sometimes completes . . . the result truly sought; technical
performance . . . For the practitioners of contemporar science ø • ø the
need for explanation is merely a relic of metaphysical, indeed religious,
wonder. (At|æ l 99J, l 9J)³
ío||ewìngtbìs tbcmc, Gzsten bzcbc|zrd ( l º34l l º84) , rztbcrtbzn
|zmcntìngtbccentzmìnztìenoIsucbzmctzpbyìcz|rcmnznt,o|cbrztcs
ìts ro|c. Hc szw ìn tbcpursuìteImcznìngtbc motìvc IercceIrcærcb,
enctbztwou|d znìmztc scìcntìhcgucqìnzmoIe|dhsbìen. nzturc not
en|ybæ z rztìonz|ìtywbìcb ìnvìtcs dìscovcq (znd tbuscnzb|cs bumzns
tep|zcctbcmsc|vcwìtbìnnzturchemwbìcbeb¡cctìvìtyscpzmtcstbcm),
but morc ìntìmztc|y, tbzt know|cdgc, trzns|ztcd ìnto wendcr, prevìdcs
tbc cmetìonz| rccognìtìen to mznc|, znd tbus rcgzìn, z |est cncbznt-
mcnt.1ehndpcnenz| mcznìngrcprcscnts tbcpreobywbìcb eb¡cc-
tìvìtyzndsub¡cctìvìty(betbzcknow|cdgcdznd¡ ustìhcd)zrcbmu@tìnte
prexìmìty,teovcr|zp,zndccnteìntcgrztc.1espczkeInzturc,wcdrzw
Irembetbtbceb¡cctìvcscìcntìhczccountsæwc||zstbcrc|ztìenz|æpccu
dcrìvcd Irom tbc pcnzsìvc mctzpbysìæ| pìcturc scìcncc prcscnts. 1bc
gursuìteItbc rcz|, ìn tbccnd, ìsz gucst Ier mtaning. ln tbìs |zttcr tzsk,
wcu|tìmztc|ydchnczndp|zccounc|vcswìtbìntbccesmes.
1e sbun mctzpbysìc decs net mczn wc csmpc ìts æ||. ¯ 1bc mctz-
gbyìceItbco|e@mzynetbccken, but mctzpbyìm|wendcr rcmæns,
mdccnmercdccp|y,tbctækeIundcntzndìngtbccxìstcntìz|p|zomcnt
CoNCLUSION 1
7
3
oIbumznsìntbcwor|dmnotbcìgnond. IntbcbcgmonìctrìumpbeIz
ræ|ìtycomposcdbyscìcno,wcmzybzvcccbzngcdencscteIb|ìchwìtb
znomcr, buttbztdms netsìgnìqtbczbscncceIzmctzpbysìctbztbc|ps
dchnc eur undcrstzndìngeItbc rcz|. Ktbcrtbzn dcnytbc mctzpbysìc
oItbìs scìcntìhc a, prbzpswc sbeu|ddc|vcmendop|yte undcnmd
tbcm.lbc|ìccznærmztìvcmcrmmtpnzì|bu, wbì|cwcmìgbt
rc
ìst z||udìng te mctzpbyìc ìntbìs"pest-mctzpbysìcz|" cm,wc mnnet
qpc tbcguctìeneIr�alit mdeurp|zcc ìn ìt. Ad dchnìng tbzt ræ|-
ìtycxtcnds mbcyend tbcpunìceIscìcncc znd ìuvzrìeusmnjugtc.
IIpbì|osepbymnetzddm tbccbz||cng, etbcrvcnucwì||centìnucte
ohcrtbcìrmæseIcxprc ìen¬zrt, rc|ìgìen, |ìtcmturc, musìc, pe|ìtìcz|
dìsceunc,zndse Iertb. Wì|cæcb mn preccmen ìuewn, bìsterìcz||y,
pbì|esepby bzs bccn ìnstrumcntz| ìn dchnìng tbcccntrz| mctzpbysìcz|
quctìens. I mnnethtbem pbì|eæpbcnzbdìmtìngtbzt re|c. IImyc y
bæzmndzmcntz|tbcmc,ìti temtbztmcìcntmìuìen.
ln tbc remzntìcs' rcsìstzncc eItbc mìgbty pesìtìvìst tìdc, tbcy
cn¡eìncdzmctzpbysìctbztrcjcctcdtbcnzrrewpìcturceIræ|ìtyscìcncc
ohcrcd.`1bc remzntìc dìscncbzntmcnt rcìdc ztsccm| |cc|s butmzy
bc trzccd te z hì|urc. Ocsmncs' drczm eIIermz|ìzìng nzturc te mztb-
cmztìc znd tbcrcbydìsccrnìngtbcdìvìnccesmìcmzcbìnchì|cd. 1bc
premìsceIdchnìngnzturcc|cvztcsscìcnccæ tbcbærcreIz||s�ning/
cetcrìc knew|cdgc, butbu tbcpreoseIìntc||cctuz|ìætìen dcnìc
mctzpbysìcz| er rc|ìgìeus cncbzntmcnt, tbc preb|cm eItbc Lzrtcsìzn
cogto, scpzrztcd ìrrcpzmb|yhem tbcwer|dìtsunq, |czvcs tbcsub¡cct
z|ìcnztcd. Ontbìsvìc,scìcnomnnetzddrcsstbcpreb|cmeImcznìng.
Lzcb ìndìvìduz| ìs |ch te scckvz|ucen bìs erbcrewn, zndzs z censc-
gucncc,nìbì|ìsmræscsìtsbezqbczd. Mercsz|ìcnt|y, Iremtbcremzntìc
pcrspcctìvc, scìcncc ìs rccìprem||yrc¡cctcdbyz tcmpcrzmcnt tbzt hnds
tbc rzdìcz||yebjcctìvcwer|dvìcw bcrch eIpcrsenz| znd, merc ìmper-
tznt|y,cmetìenz|mcznìng.
When I he the lc'd atronomer,
When the prof, the Figure, wer rnge in
Columns bfore me,
When I ¾ shown the chans and diagrams, to add,
Divide, and meure them.
When I sitting he the atrnomer where he
Lctured with much applause in the lecture rom.
How son unaccountable I bme tired and sick.
I
74
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENI NG
Till rising and gliding out I wander'd of by myelf,
In the mystical moist night-air, and fom time to time,
Lok'd up in perfect silence at the stars. (itman l 865l l 902)
Wz|tWbìtmzn`spreneunccmcntwæ,zndcentìnucstebc,zwìdc|y
sbzrcd scntìmcnt. lt ìs cemmenp|zcc te netc tbzt, sìncc tbc remzntìc
pcrìed, tbc znzIytìc, mccbznìcz|, zbstrzct guz|ìtìcs eIscìcncc bzvc dìs-
p|zccd tbc prìmzq cnceuntcrwìtb nzturc, |czvìngtbc pcrsenz|, cme-
tìenz|,zndzctbctìcdìmcnsìenseIcxpcrìcncctehndtbcìrewnceursc.
Accerdìngtetbcc remzntìc, tbcpìcmrceIræìqehcrcdbyscìcno
ìsbzrd|y"rcz|" ìnbumzn tcrms.Aypìcturcprcscntcdmmtbctmns|ztcd
ìnte sìgnìhmncc. 1bus, bcyend tbc knew|cdgc dcrìvcd Irem scìcntìhc
ìnguìq, zcstbctìczndspìrìtuz|ìnsìgbtzbeuttbcsp|cnder, wendcr, znd
mìrzc|ceIcxìstcncc must z|se bczcknew|cdgcd. Wbcræ tbcscìcntìhc
hctstbcmsc|vcmnnetmrqsucbundcrstzndìng, mæìngìsgre¡cctcd
bytbcbumznczpprccìztìeneItbchcu prevìdcd. ln tbìs ænsc, tbcræ|-
ìqscìcncc prevìdc ìsìrenìc, ìnæmucbæ tbc eb¡cctìvc pìcturcìsbzrd|y
thc rcz|ìty wc knew ìn znyìntìmztcer pcrsenz| tcrms. lrem tbcguzn-
mmunìvcncteætrepbyìc,hemtbcbumzngcnemctetcctenìcp|ztc,
scìcntìhccxp|znztìen ìsdìverccd hem ccqdzycpcrìcno. Hcrc, zttbc
ìntcrhcc eItbceb¡cctìvclsub¡cctìvcdìvìdc, wc zgnwìtncs thc mdìcz|
dìstìnctìeneIhctzndvz|ucce||zpsc.
5emckndseIknew|cdgczrcprmuodzttbcmcndeItbceb¡otìvc
pe|c,zndsucbknew|cdgcdcmznds(zppreprìztc|y) mìnìmzI"mnmmìnz-
tìen"wìtbtbcsub¡cctìvc. buttbìsìsnettbcìuuc,Iertbztbzn|chæbon
|engIeugbtznddccìdcd.1bcpeìntpunucdbcrcìssemctbìngc|sccntìrc|y.
pcnenz| knew|cdgcìs net ncO ì|ycentìngcnterzrbìtm. Ktbcr, te
trzns|ztc zn eb¡cctìvc pìcturc eItbc wer|d ìnte tcrms thzt bzvc bumzn
mæìngzndsìgnìhmnorcguìrcetbcr kìnds eIvz|uczndæmcnu,
zndtbccteebzvctbcìr|cgìtìmzqznd¡ustzpp|ìmtìens.1bcìuucìsnet
te cntìrc|ypugc tbcsub¡cctìvc,butte rcmgnìuìtsrìgbm|p|zoìntbc
trìbunz|eI¡udgmcnt,wbcrcknew|cdgcìsu|tìmztc|yvz|ucdznddcpIeycd
Ier bumzn usc znd undcrstzndìng, Ier ìt ìs betb usc|css znd ìrrc|cvznt
dìverccdhem tbc ræ|ìtyeItbcpcnenz| demzìn. lnsben, Knew|cdgìs
ìncxemb|yvz|ucdz|engtbcmtre eb¡cctìvclsub¡cctìvccentìnuum.
1bescwbeweu|ddìsmrd remzntìcìsm`syczrnìngmzìntæncdtbzt
"mænìng"wæncvcr|ìstcdenscìcncc`smcnu,zt|ætnetæzmzìnmunc.
Wbztcvcr mænìngìsdcrìvcd Iremscìcntìhchndìng mustbmkcna |z
mc,prebzb|yen|yædc cn.Accerdìng|y,mæìngcemchemeuuìdc
CONCLUSION 1
75
of science, and such interpretation arises æ a matter of choice, a ques­
tion of belief and peronal need. Given that both partie agree that mean­
in
g resides beyond science, it seems that the romantic quest remains for
those so inclined. Simply, let those who seek a better syntheis crr on 8
best they C. Before accepting this de fcto conclusion, let me retate the
"
unifer" C.
A Mor-epitemolog
Let us return to where the path of science veered of fom its parent phi­
losophy. A we have discussed, beyond its unique object of study and a
particular empiricist methodolog to flfll its goals, science placed par­
ticular values on certain kinds of knowledge and dismissed others, and
rightly so in light of its own pursuits. However, in following its own way,
science lef no means to integrate its own agenda with the humanistic
body it deserted. Accordingly, æ the romantic so well understood, mean­
ing mut be sought in some fsion of the personal domain with objective
knowledge of nature. In seeking a synthesis wherein objectivity might be
mixed with the personal and thereby achieve what Polanyi caled "per­
sonal knowledge" ( l º62), certain cognitive strategies might be employed.
We reieed them erlier, but essentially I have presented how both sci­
ence and poesi should be viewed æ vehicles of knowing or expressing.
One might assign them the status of "tools" of an i nterpretative fculty
that confer human sigicance. Neither science nor poetr individually
sufce because, in a sense, they are appendages to a deeper cognitive fnc­
tion, a fculty Kant called "judgment." From this perspective, meaning
cnnot directly arise from epistemolog or any of its branches, but rather
arises fom a dynamic synthesis-the morl vision (or orientation) of the
knower who weves fcts into their fbric of signifction. If the positiv­
ist insists that science reside within narrow epistemological constraints
of "knowing, " then the larger picture of the world remains incomplete.
Alternatively, the true scientist will not leave the world beref of his own
preence. One would not place the subjective into science and contami­
nate its hard-won reality; rather, we seek a way to add the personal to
make science flly rel . . . in human terms. In short, the humanist rejects
the positivist stance, not so much becuse it distorts reality, but because
it cptures too little:
SCIENCE AO TE QuE FOR MEING
Thcmturcwì|| nedeubtbcamercnaturaI |ìIc thanthìs.Wcsha||bc
acguaìntcd and sha|I usc hewcrs and stars, and sun and meen, and
oupythìsnatunwhìchnewstandsevcrandamundÜ- Wcsha||rmch
upte thc smand p|uckhuìtmm many pans eIthc unìvcnc.Wcsha||
purc|ymthcmandnetabmìt¬oìsìnmcbr~andwhìspr-
ìng|ævuandwcshaü thcnhmrhìm.Wc|ìvcìnthcmìdsteIa||buty
ædgdcurmatwordmrìberonoìvm. Qemu l 98l , 460)
So I again turn to Thoreau to illustrate this expansive descripti
on o
f
science.
Thoreu sought "fct," the leicn for his decriptions; inded, the
wer the metier of his life (æhe exclaims shortly afer moving into his
Walden cbin: "I wish to meet the fct of life . . . fc to fce" [ l º84
,
l 56} ) , and he would eng them "diretly. " Concomitandy, he also rec­
ognizd how fcts are contextualized by their standing within a certain
milieu of conceptual suppon and theoretical understanding. Thus he
appriated how fct
Þ
the ver compleit they are mto simplif.
Note how Thoreau ponrayed the knower æ processing fcts to attain
their fll signifcnce and mening:
Senetwìththce eIæìcnæwhìchi barnn-nereIyuthmpr
whìch ìs ìmptcnt. butmtcthcwer|d. 8 dìgst ìt. ltweu|dsæmÜ ìI
thìnggtsaìdbutm|y8 bychanæAyu��� m at|cngmwlyeu
s. Whcn mmmn supmcìa||ythqmsænÜ thqIìcìn n|atìen
te ccrtaìn ìnstìtutìen'spcrchancc. but l weuId havc thcmepm Ü
mercdccp|ysccnwìth dccpcrrcIcrcnccs.-se that thc hmrcrerrmdcr
mnnet rm@ìuthcmerappnhcndthcìrsì@ìhmommthcp|atmrm
eIommen |ìkbutìtwìübnothathcbìnaMM tms|atmìn
erdcrteundcnund mcm. ( l 992, l 58,cmpmsìs ìnerìgìna|)
Te intimation underlying this pasfom Thoreu's jourl decribes
the rle of the obserer in signifing the world.
From Thoreau's perspective, the scientifc view of the detached
obserer should etend objective fnding gleaned fm nature to other
domains of individual experiencethe emotional, the subjective. The
problem for him w not how the scientist attempt to bobjective, but
rather how knowledge of the world becomes sigi�J. The impon of
that synthesis concerns the ver nature of objectifed knowledge itself
which is thereby trnsformed fom its public domain back to the indi­
vidual. In dismissing a positivist notion of objectivit, Thoru claimed
that we must make choices and thereby asign panicular impnance to
CoNCLUSION 1
77
onc kì nd eIebscnatìen evcr anethcr. Wcwcìgh ìnIermatìen, ccrtaìn
dctaì|sbccemcìmpenantwìthìnthccentcxtìnwbìch tbcyarcsccn, tbc
obsc
ncrcrcatcs that centcxt. Se, en thc enc hand, 1hercau seugbt te
"çpturc" naturcthreugh mctìcu|eusebscnatìon, en thc etbcrhznd,bc
"pcrsenz|ìzcd" rca|ìty se dìstì||cd bysìtuatìnghìmsc|Iìn tbcerdcr znd
bcautyeIthcnztura|wer|d(Fcck l ºº0,1zubcrZ00l).1bcactbctìcznd
spìrìtua|wcrcnetatch�J teeb¡cctìvcsccìng,butwcrcmtbcrcontttv�
toìt.Sìmp|y,Ierbìm,pectqznd znwcrccegnìtìvchcu|tìctemcznìng-
þ|erdcrcxpcrìcncc(Lrecc l º0Z/ l º7Z).º
íer1berczu, thìs preccssìngeIhctsyìc|ds z g|ebz| pìcturc thzt,
bc
ç
usceIìts seurccdccpwìtbìnthckewìngsc|I, szturztcs bìs bcìng.
"thctrutbrcpcctìnghi tbìngshz||nzturz||ychz|chemzmzn|ìkctbc
odereItbc muskrzt Irem tbcceateIz trzppcr" (l ººZ, l 58, cmphzsìs
ìnerìgìnz|). Netc tbccmphasìzcd pesscssìvcpreneun,hi. 1berczu hæ
pcrsenz|ìudknew|cdgctestrìkc"trutb,"wbìcb,ratbcrthznrcìdìngeut
thcrcìntbcwer|d,attaìnsìtsstatusen|ythreugb tbcçpacìtyeIzscnsì-
tìvczndrcadyknewcr. 1rutb Ier1berczu ìs net¡udgcd tbreugb semc
pesìtìvìst stzndzrd, but rztbcr Iz||ssguzrc|y ìn tbc pcrsenz| rcz|m zs z
preduct eIsynthcsìs b�t�m mìnd (scnseq and acsthctìc hcu|tìcs) znd
thcwer|d. Sebc ìs netcrcztìngtrutb byan ìdcz|ìstìcp|ey. 1bcwer|d,
Io||ewìngKnt,cxìstsasræ|zndknewzb|c,butzdìz|cctìcp|zybcmccn
thcsub¡cctznd hìs eb¡ccteIìnguìq. U|tìmatc|y, tbcebscnìngcyc must
gthcrhcts,buttbc mìnderdcrs thcm ìntea Iermu|ztìen.1hìsmzybc
dencundcrthcIermz|structurcseIcìtbcrscìcnccerpectq,buttbcsctee
arc trzns|atìens. íer1herczu, naturc u|tìmatc|ymustbccxpcrìcnccd,
dìrcctIyzndìntìmztc|y.A hcwretcìnbìs¡eurnz|,
I think the man of science makes this mistake, and the mas of mankind
along with him: that you should coolly give your chief attention to the
phenomenon which excites you a something independent on you, and
not a it is related to you. The important fct is its efect on me. He thinks
that l have no business to æ anything else but j ust what he defnes the
rainbow to be, but . . . it is the subjet of the vision, the truth alone that
concerns me. The philosopher for whom rainbows, etc. , L b eplained
away never saw them. With reard to such objects, I fnd it is not they
themselve (with which men of science deal) that concern me; the pint
of interest is somehere bm�¬ me and the objects. ( l 962, l 0. l �5,
emphais in original)
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
1berczu cndczvercd te czpturc z bumznìzcd wer|dvìcw, enc w
h
i
c
h
cmp|eycd tbcIruìtseIscìcntìhcìnvcstìgtìentecrcztcbìs own wer|d.
I
n
tbìsscnsc, l rcgrd bìm æzn cxcmp|zreIzscìcntìstguìdcdby
zbq


ìstìcctbes(cxpzndcdìn1zubcr200l ) .
1berczu ehcrcd nezpe|e@ tbzt bìs nzturæ bìsterìcs (sp|ìc
cdwit
h
pmtìc znd mcmpbers) mìgbt netcenIerm te tbcstzndzrdseIbon ¿¿
scìcntìhcknew|cdgc. 5emcpzsszgcdìd,etbcndìdnet. butIer
bìm
,the
werkwæsyntbctìc,znengeìngncgtìztìeneImc|dìngtbceb¡cctìvcworl
d
wìtbpcrsenz|cxpcrìcncczndundcntzndìng.5ewbì|cbcseugbteb¡otìve
knew|cdgc,1beræucngcdz|zgcrpre¡cct.1bc"ctbìc"eIunttnd­
ing drevc 1berczu`s gucst te knew. Hìs merz| vcnturcwæ z mznd
¡
te
eIsccìng-nc dcvc|epcd, cxcrcìscd, znd pursucdæ zn zcteIdchnìog
bìmsc|Izndbìsp|zccìntbccesmes. (Seeing, eImunc,neten|yìnc|
q
de
J
pectìcvìsìenserwngdrms,butmctìcu|eusebscnztìen.)Knew|cdge
rcmzìncdìn tbccmp|eyeItbztzgndz, butscìcnccWen|yenceIscvcm
tee|s te zcbìcvc tbc grcztcr purpesceIbumzn-ccntcrcd knew|cdgc. He
dìsmìucdzh|sccbeìoknew|cdgcor remzncc,scìcnccor pectq. both
medceIcxprìcnccwcrccrucìz|ìnmh||ìngbìsguctIerræìq. UnìheJ
ræenbpuætbcdunìhcdcpcrìcncc.
ln sum, 1berczuwæcegnìænteItbc|ìmìtseIbìsre|czscpìstcm
ol­
egìstæencwbeceu|dknewtbcwer|dæsemctbìngrcæbcyendbìsewo
vìsìen. Ad, æzcrìtìæ cere||zq, tbcrcwcrc vzrìeus hcu|tìcs eIsccìng,
æcb mpturìngzn æpccteIrcz|ìtytbzt must bc Iegcd ìnte semcunìq
tbreugb tbc mìndeItbcbcbe|dcr. 5esccìngwzsu|tìmztc|ydcpcndcnt
en tbc ìndìvìduz|`sabilit te pcrccìvcznd ìntcgrztc, znd tbus tbcwor|J
æknewncmcrgcs ìn crætìvcchen. ln tbcpunuìteInzturc, tbcpre¡ect
ìuc|Iwæ ìnIermcd byz sc|I-censcìeusding eItbesc ìnguìrìcs. ln sem
e
scnsc, bczntìcìpztcd tbc|ztcr przgmztìsu` cmpbæìsen tbcccntmìtyof
cnggìng |ìvcd cxpcrìcncc. ln tbìs scnsc, tbczct eIcrcztìen ìtsc|Iwm a
vìnuc. 1beræu`s scìcncc tbusbcmmczpoesi
Nature ha loked uncommonly bare & dr to me for a day or to. With
our snse applied to the surrounding world we are reding our own phys­
ic & correponding moral reolutions. Nature ¾ m shallow all at once
I did not know what had attracted me all my life. I ¾ therefor encour­
agd when going through a feld this eening, I ¾ uneptedly struck
with the beaury of an apple tree-The perception of beaury is a moral
test. ( l 997, l 20)
CoNCLUSION t
79
Tbìs¡ournz|cntqQunc Z l , l 85Z) rcsoundswìtb waH`sdcc|zrz-
t
|
on
tbzt "Ourwbo|c |ìIc ìs stzn|ìng|ymom|" ( l º7 l , Zl 8) , wbìcb mzy
g
c
u
ndcrstood zs our p|zccmcntonzsctoIcoordìnztcs dchncd byscv-
cta| æ
cs.|ustzs spzcc ìs gcomctrìm||ydchncd by tbrccvccton ìn sìm-
g|c
gc
omctq, se too mìgbtwcdrzwz "spzcc" by "vcctors" wbìcb wì||
zoz|ogous|y dchnc tbc ceordìnztcs eI1berczu's cxpcrìcncc. tbc hrst,
thczcstbctìc ìmzgìnztìen, tbcsccend, tbcìmpcrztìvceIzttcntìon, tbc
thìrd,tbcpsycbe|o@eIsc|I-zwzrcncss.1bcìrmcctìngzttbcerìgìneItbc
vcctors tbztdcIìnætcmìs mctzpborìcz| spzcc ìs¡eìncd byzvz|uc-|zdcn
cooscìousncsstbztguìdcsczcbhcuItyæìtprobcsìtsìntcntìon. Hcrcwc
hoJscìcntìhc tbìnkìngpznìcìpztìngæenchcu|qzmengscvcrz|tobc|p
[
ormtbztcempesìtcwcm||"tbcwor|d."
íor1borczu, tbztwer|dwzssìgnìhcd rc|ztìvc to bìmsc|Itbrougb
z "moræ-cpìstcmo|e@," onc bc Ionbrìgbdydcc|zrcd zs zyoung mzn.
¨Howtrcmcndous|ymeræìseur|ìIc.mcræ|nemznC bcsædto|ìvc
mucb ìn tbcscnsc, but cvcq momcntìs tbc productoIso mucb cbzr-
z
ctcr. Wbzt pzìntcrs oIsccncqwczrc. Wc ìmpzn to tbc |zndsmpc tbc
pcrIcctce|erseIourmìnd" ( l º8 l , 4667). NzturccouIdon|ybccomc
mcznìngm| zs knew|cdgceIìtbcmmc ìntcgrztcd ìnto 1berczu's own
cxpcrìcncc.Andcpcrìcncc,zt|cætIer1borczu,W znìmzgìnztìvcznd
|otìmztccnceuntcr.1ercpættbccpìgmpbeItbìsboek.
The tre Õ of science wlhave a rre Indian wisdom-and wl know
nature btter by his fner orgniztion. He will smell, tate, æy her, feel,
btter than other men. His will be a depr and fner eprience. We do
not le by inference and deduction, and the appliction of mathematic
to philosophy but by direct intercour. It is with science Å with ethic
we cnnot know truth by method and contrivancethe Baconian is Å
false Å any other method. The most scientifc should be the healthiest
man. < Voum/, Octobr l l , l 840} , l 98l , l 87)
Tbcwer|dwzs tbus mzdcwbe|czgìn zs tbcscìcntìhcpursuìttook ìts
rìgbtm| p|zcc ìn tbcgucteIrcæìq, z ræìtyoI1boræu's own crcztìvc
mzkìng. 1bc wer|d, j ust zs Lmcrson bzd prenounccd zt tbc cnd oI
Namrr, wou|d bc buì|tzccordìngto onc'sown dìctztcs, dìrcctcd byzn
ìnncrcempzss. "Lvcqspìrìtbuì|ds ìtsc|Iz bousc, zndbcyond ìts bousc,
z
wor|d, zndbcyendìtswor|d, zbævcn. . . . buì|dtbcrcIorcyourown
w
o
r|d.A hst zs you cenIorm yeur |ìIc te tbcpurc ìdcz ìn your mìnd,
tbztwì||unIe|dìtsgrcztpreponìons" (Lmcrson l º7 l , 4�5).
180
SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
1o mzkc thc ordì nzry cxtrzordì nzry bcczmc thc morz| cndczv
or
1horczu sct hìmsc|I. In conscqucncc, hc posscsscd z unìguc vìcw
o
I
nzturc, csscntìz||ycrcztìng, by mczns oIzn zstutc scnsc eIdctzì| zn
d
z
pectìccyc,tbcwor|dìnwbìcbhc|ìvcd.1bìs1boræuzccomp|ìsbcdæ
zn
zcteIwì||, æcnìngtbc prìmzq oIbìs own knowìng. Wat bcszw
w
¿
dctcrmìncdbyhow hcszwzndtbcvz|ucbctewcdentbcebjcctoIscru-
tìny. 1o scc tbcwor|d zs bczutìm| zndspìrìtuz|,1berczu p|zccd |c
nscs
eIcnbznccd scnsìbì|ìty bcIorc bìs cyc, botb te mcus hìs sì@t znd h|tcr
ìt. 1bus tbcvcqzctoIebscnìngbcæmcz merz| tcteIbìs vz|ucs ad
bìs zbì|ìtyto|ìvcbythcm. Hccsscntìz||ycempescd nzturc ìn zpcrson
Q
Iermzt, tzkìngwhzt bc rcquìrcd to mzkc z pìcturceItbcwer|d zndoI
bìmsc|Iwìtbìn ìt. 1bc ìndìvìduz|ìtybccpouscd W mcsint qu non oI
tbccntìrcpro¡cct. lnsbon, ìnstczdoIebjcctìvìty's"vìchemnewbcrc,"
1boræuproc|zìmcdtbcprìmzqoIprccìsc|ybìsewnvìsìon.
1borczu`s rcconhgurcdcpìstcmo|ogy sbìhs tbc scìcntìhc gucstìon
Irom mzttcrs oIIzct to mzttcrs oIìntcrprctztìen. And hndìngsìgnìh-
mnccdrzwsuponcmotìonz|zndmom|hcu|tìcguìtcdìstìnctmmtbosc
cmp|oycd Iorscìcntìhcìnvcstìgztìon, zt |czst ìn z hrst erdcr wzy. Any
sìgnìhmnccbumzns dcrìvc hem nzturc erzpp|y te nzturc rcprccnts z
sctoIprojcctcdbumznvz|ucszndìntcrprctztìons.Andsemcweu|d¡oìn
mc (c.g. , bzcbc|zrd,At|zn) tozrguc tbzt tbìs mctzpbysìczI æsìgnmcnt,
net mzstcq oInzturc, dchncs scìcncc's dccpcr "cnd gzmc. "5e wbì|c
eb¡cctìvcknow|cdgcìsebvìous|yuscm|æzn ìnstrumcnttewzrdsgncr-
ztìngìndustq(brozd|yundcntood),tbcromzntìcrcpætcd|ydcmzndcd
tbztscìcntìhcìnsìgbt must scnc to make the ntral worl sigicant in
humn M. Accordìng|y, thcwcb eIbc|ìch ìn wbìcbebjcctìvcknew|-
cdgc, know|cdgc ìndcpcndcnteIìndìvìduz| pcrspcctìvc, must bc ìntc-
grztcd ìs z comp|cx ncmorkeIpsycbo|ogìcz| znd cu|turz| c|cmcnts. ln
tbcsìmp|cstoItcrms, scìcnccehcrs z powcrm| mæseIzcbìcìngmn-
tro|oInzturc,buttboscsucccscs mustbcceup|cdtemrmcrìngbumzn
gez|sznd cn|zrgìngbumznc undcrstzndìng. lItbztsyntbcsìs hì|serìs
sìmp|yzbzndoncd,tbcnscìcncc`sm||potcntìæænnetbcræìud.
TcSe fr M=¤ing
lIwc rcmzìn commìttcd te undcrstzndìng hew scìcntìhc kew|cdgc
bccomcs mcznìngm|, not ìn ìts tccbnìcz| zpp|ìmtìens,ercvcn æ stztc-
mcnteIhct, but rztbcrbewtbcpìcturcscìcnccehcneIræìqbccemcs
ìncerperztcd ìnte bc|ìcIsystcms znd ìnsìgbt, tbcn tbc wer|d scìcncc
CoNCLUSION 181
rcvcz|s mzybczpprccìztcd zcsthctìcz||y, zndspìrìtuz||y. Onthìsvìcw,
know|cdgc ìsvz|uzb|cuoton|yIorìtszpp|ìcztìon,butz|soIorprovìdìng
orìcntztìon ìnto z comp|cx, ohcn hostì|c, somctìmcs mystcrìouswor|d.
1hìs|zttcrpursuìtpoìnts tozdccpcrstrztumeIcxpcrìcncc, thconctbzt
ìnìtìztcd scìcntìhc ìnguìqìn tbc hrstp|zcc. mctzphyìæ wendcr. Onc
mìgbtdcscrìbc tbc g|orìous crcztìon oIthc dìvìnc, ormerc ncutrz||y,
trzns|ztc tbc cmotìonz| zpprccìztìon oInzturc`s wondcr ìn zcstbctìc
tcrms,ermorcsìmp|y,thc"zbz"oIìnsìght.Hcrctbcscìcntìhcdìscovcq
ortbceq ìs Immcd byhumznc ìntuìtìons. 1bìs zttìtudcpeìnts bzckte
tbc romzntìc,wbosc own zgcndz rcmzìns unm|h||cd butwbosccbæ-
|cngc, l mzìntzìn, mnnotbcdcnìcd. Howwc m|h|| thcìrìnsìgbt tbztz
hzcturcdwor|dmustbcmcndcd rcmzìns ourownwork.
1e portrzy z "dìscnchzntcd" unìvcrsc zs thc ìncvìtzb|c preduct eI
scìcntìhcìnguìqsccms tomcmìsguìdcd. Sucb znìndìctmcntmnnotbc
dreppcdzttbcdoorstcpoIscìcncc. Kzthcrìtrcstsmorczpproprìztc|yìn
znotbcr, brozdcrcontcxt, nzmc|y hndìngbumzn mcznìng ìnzsccu|zr-
ìzcdwor|d,wboscvz|ucszrcno|ongcrdìvìnc|yrcvcz|cd butìnstædzrìsc
wìtbìnz socìo-po|ìtìcz| cu|turc ìnznswcr to thc nccds eItbc bìstorìæ
memcnt.1hcprogrzmthztmìgbtìntcgrztctbcscìcntìhcwor|dvìcwìtb
bumzn cxpcrìcncc znd ì ntcrprctztìon ìnvo|vcs mzny p|zycrs, oIwbìcb
scìcncc ìs butonc, z|bcìtccntrz|. 1hc orìcntztìon dcvc|opcd bcrc poìnts
to z pbì|osopbyoIscìcncc thztzgìn brìngs ìnvcstìgtìon oItbc nzturz|
wer|d ìnte tbc domzìn oIz p|urz|ìstìc rczson, wbcrc vzrìous cegnìtìvc
hcu|tìcsrcccìvctbcìr¡ ustdcscrts.
l zm buì|dìngon Ocwcy`s morz| phì|osophy, zccordìng to wbìcb
z|| scìcnccs "zrc z pzrt oIdìscìp|ìncd morz| know|cdgc so Izr zs tbcy
cnzb|custoundcrstzndtbccondìtìonszndzgcncìcthrougbwhìchmzn
|ìvcs. . . . Morz| scìcncc ìs not somcthìngwìtb zscpzrztcprovìncc, Ior
pbyìm|, bìo|ogìcz| znd bìstorìc kow|cdgc mustbcp|zccd ìnz humzn
mntcxtwhcrc ìtwì|| ì||umìnztczndguìdcthczctìvìtìcsoImcn" (Ocwcy
l ºZZ,Zº6) . 1hus IorOcwcy, nohrmdcmzrmtìonbcmccn moræ¡udg-
mcntsznd otbcrkìndswcrcpossìb|c,Ior "cvcq znd znyzct ìswìtbìntbc
scepc eImorz|s, bcìngz czndìdztc Ior possìb|c¡ udgmcntwìtb rcspcct
te ìts bcttcr-or-worscguz|ìty" (Z7º). Hcwìdcncd tbcscopcoI"morz|s"
te vz|uc¡udgmcnts wrìt |zrgc. "morz|s hzs to do wìtb z|| zctìvìty ìnto
wbìcb z|tcrnztìvc possìbì|ìtìcscntcr. íorwbcrccrthqcntcrzdìhcrcncc
bcmccnbcttcrzndworsczrìscs" (Z78).8
l hzvc cxtcndcd thìs morz|-cpìstcmo|ogìcz| zpprezch ìn prcvìous
studìcs (1zubcrZ00 l , Z005z) . ln cbzrzctcrìzìngscìcnccìnìtsbrozdcst
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENING
centcxt, "merz|-cpìstcmo|o@" bìgb|ìgbts knew|cdgc zsstructurcd by,
dchncdtbrougb,zndcmbcddcdìndivere væucs,zndmorctoth
cp
oìo
t,
mcscvz|ucsìnc|udctbosccstzb|ìsbcd by|ìvcdcxpcrìcnccznderd
crcdby
zpcrsenz|ctbìc. Netc tbzt thìstcrmìne|o@ìs net zcbzrzctcrìstìcus
agc,
wbìcb zddrcsscs tbccpìstcmìcstztus znd rc|ztìens eImerz| ¡ udgmcnts
zndprìncìp|cs,tbztìs,¡ustìhmtìeneIstztcmcntserbc|ìch,ìncpìstcmo|-
e@, ervz|ìdztìen eI¡ udgmcnts eIzctìens, ìn ctbìcs. Instczd, "mora|"
stznds bcrc Ierzcknew|cdgìng tbcdcgrcc te wbìcb knew|cdgc ìsvz|uc-
|zdcn. 1bus merz|-cpìstcme|e@mpturcs tbcce||zpsceIzdìcbotomous
hctlvz|uccpìstcme|e@zndsubstìtutcszncnvc|epìngIermu|ztìon.whco
scìcnccìscenhgurcdwìtbìnzmerz|-cpìstcme|e@, tbctccbnìcz| mastcq
eInzturc ìs ceup|cd te tbc bumzncpre¡ccteIhndìng mcznìngìn that
kew|cdgc.A wc bzvc sccn wìtb tbccxzmp|ceIcnvìrenmcntz| cthìcs
(cbzptcr 5), tbcscìcnccrczcbcsdccp|yìnte tbcmerz|demzìnte hndìts
rcspcctìvc epitemologcal Ieetìng, znd bcyend tbzt demzìn z pcnzsìvc
ehic guìdcszndsbzpcsprzctìcczndtbceq."
lItbc |ìnc dcmzrcztìngtbc merz| Irem tbc cpìstcme|egìcz| sccms
hìnt,tbcrczdcrmustz|sebcwzrncdtbzttbc|ìncsscpzmtìngmctzphys-
ìchemtbcscetbcrcenccrns ìssìmì|zr|yebscurc, Iernetuntì|enc¡our-
nqwc||wìtbìnczcbtcrrìteqdecstbc|zndsmpcmercc|czr|yrcvcz| ìts
tcrrzìn. Fcrbzps tbzt ìs tbc mestdìsquìctìngmcsszgc cenvcycd by thìs
pcrspcctìvc enscìcncc. scìcncc ænnet rcstse|c|ywìtbìncpìstcmo|ogìæ
dcmzrmtìens, bcyend ìts mem| structurcznd ìntcrcenncctìens ìnto thc
secìz|demzìn,ìtscpìstcme|e@drìvcseurmctzpbysìc.ApenrzìtoIscì-
cncc mustzcceuntIer tbìs m|| pbì|esepbìcz| pznep|y. Ocspìtc myown
zmbìtìens te zddrcss tbìs gez|, tbc skctcb ehcrcd bcrc cemprìscs on|y
z drzheIsucb z m||crdcscrìptìen. Ncvcnbc|css, |ct us p|zccz Ocwcy-
ìnspìrcd undcrstzndìngeIscìcncc ìn tbc ìntcgrztìvc pre¡cctwc zrc con-
sìdcrìng.1brcccbzrzctcrìstìcIrzmctbìszpprezcb.
íìrst,Ie||ewìngOcwcyznd|ztcrprzgmztìsts,tbcen|yrcz|ìtyìs"erdì-
nµræ|ìty" (5boekZ000) .1bìszttìtudcscckstecnvc|epz||cxpcrìcncc,
hemcsetcrìchent|ìncscìcncctetbcm||pcnenæzpprccìztìeneIzwor|d
se dcpìctcd. 1bìs hnz| dìstì||ztìen eItbeugbt drzws Iremdìvcrsc cog
-
nìtìvc znd cmetìenz| Izcu|tìcs znd rcquìrcs bzrncssìng tbcm ìnte somc
ìnt@rztcdcebcrcncc. ln sben, zninteatve dcpton eItbcwer|dznd
enc`s cxpcrìcncceIìtdchncs scìcnccìnìtsbrezdcstbumznccentcxt.
5ccend, scìcnccprcscnts tbcwer|d zs zn engeìngdikacal elra­
ton, ìn wbìcb mænìngbccemc tbc IecuseIìntcrct, net trutb (Ocw¶
CoNCLUSION
|
º3
|
,4).1bìsmzyzppczrtobczrzdìcz|zsscrtìon,butìntbìsdìscussìon,
trutb
noten|ybæzn cpìstcmo|ogìm stzndìng, ìtz|so posscssc znctbì-
@
onc.And ìn tbìsmorz|domzìn, trutb ìs ìnscnìccte mænìng. 1bìs
_
zìm
docsnotdcmotcthcstzndìngoItrutbìnznyscnsc,butìntbìscen-
§
gu
mtìon, tmtb bmczteo| Iormzkìngmænìng. 1rutbc|zìmstbcn
çnstìtutczsQentbcwzytewzrdssomcmcznìngm|syntbcìs.Ontbìs
vìc,tmtbmnctìensìntbcscnìccoImænìng-scckngbcbzvìen,wbìcb,
oIcounc,ceìncìdcwìtbtbcìntcgrztìvcrcquìrcmcnueItbougbt. Kæ|ìq
ìs tbuscpcrìcnodìnzn engìngtcteIpcrsenzI know|cdgczgìnsttbc
wo
r|dtbztdcmzndsrcspensctbztìnvokcenckìndeIrcæenerznetbcr.
MæìngbccemcstbccndpeìnteIknew|cdgcætbcìndìvìduz|ìntcr-
prcts tbcwer|d æ z producteItbcprcscnt momcnt wìtbìn thccentcxt
oIprìercpcrìcncc. ln tbìshsbìon, mæìngbccomctbccegnìtìvcg|uc
ìnwbìcbcxpcrìcncccebcrcs.1bìszttìtudc,dcvc|epcdbyprzgmztìsuznd
contcmperzqcognìtìvc scìcntìsts, scncs te czpturc bumzn ìntcntìen,
bcmuscwìtbeuttbcsczrcb Ier mcznìng, tbcmotìvztìen Ior ìntcgrztìen
zndcebcrcnccweu|dbzvcnobzsìszndcxpcrìcnccwou|dbzvcnestruc-
turc.Accerdìng|y,z"Ieundztìenz|"cpìstcme|o@bæbccnrcp|zccdwìtb
zmnctìenz| enc, bywbìcb l mæn tbcprzgmztìcoIsìtuztìngmænìng-
scckìngvcnturcseIerdìnzqcxpcrìcncc(1zubcrZ005z,Z35-37).
íìnzIIy, tbìs ìntcgrztìvc chert rcquìrcs zs�lrqctv� att zbeut
scìcncczndbewìtbccemccenstìtutìvcteeurvìcoItbcwor|dzndeI
oursc|vcs. Kchcxìvìqtbzn bccemcs tbcbcznoItbcpre¡cct,wbcrccem-
prcbcnsìeneIznìnt@rztcdwer|d,crcztcdbytbcsczrcbIormænìngìnz
dìz|cctìcæ cxcbzngwìtb tbcwor|d, cmcrgcs æcpìstcmo|o@`s ob¡cct eI
ìnquìq. On tbìs vìc, mcznìngscncs te Iocus¡ udgmcnt`s mnctìon, zn
zrbìtrztìen eIcxpcrìcncc te crcztc bumzn rcz|ìq. 1bc p|zyoIIzcts znd
vz|ucs, ìntcrzctìngwìtb vzqìng vz|cnccs zssìgncd te czcb, scncs zs tbc
mctìcreI|ìIccxpcrìcncc,erdìnzqzndotbcmìsc.ío||owìnghcxìb|c(ìInot
poer|ydchncd) ru|cseInzvìgztìon, tbìscon¡oìncd morz|-cpìstcme|o@
zcknewIcdgctbztrcz|ìtyu|tìmztc|yp|zccbumznswìtbìntbcræIìqthe
cxpcrìcncc. 1bc hcts eI tbcwor|d-r mercsìmp|y, tbcwor|d-n|y
bccemchctuzIwìtbtbcvz|uczssìgncdbybumzncz|uztìon.And tbus
r
cz|ìqbccemczproducteImìnd znd nzturc, æ Kznthrstpropescd¬
notcenstructcd byz unìvcrsz| rcæen æbc tbougbt, but composcdwìtb
vzqìngm|cs, hìstorìcz||yzndcu|turz||ydcvc|epcd znd tbuscontìngcnt
totìmczndp|zcc.5emccognìtìvcru|csmzyprccnttbcmsc|vcsprccìsc|y,
otbcn|c se,zndsemcrcmzìnsccmìng|ynonspccìhc,tbcìrm||cbzrzctcr
SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MENI NG
shroudcdzsthcHcu|tìcsoIhumzucxp|zuztìouzuduudcrstzudìugwczvc
thcthrczdsoIcxpcrìcuccìutowho|cc|oth,z||thcwhì|cob|ìvìoustozuz-
|ytìc zttcmpts to dìsccrn thcm. Gìvìugup Ioundztìous mzywc|| rcguìrc
zbzndonìngrìgorouscpìstcmo|ogìcz| Iormz|ìsmszswc||.
1hc wer|d so coustrucd ìs Iundzmcntz||y moral ìn thc scusc oI
humzn-vz|ucd, humzn-ccutcrcd, humzn-dcrìvcd, humzn-constructcd,
zndhumzn-ìutcudcd.1escgrcgtcthcsc|IIremthcwor|dzssomcscpz-
rztccntìtydcIraudsphì|esophy`sown gucst, Ierz wor|d wìtheuthumn
vz|uc hzs |ost humzu sìgnìhczucc. 1hc sc|Ihrm|yp|zccd in thcwor|d
censtìtutcsthcrcz|ìtyìnwhìchhumzus|ìvc. 1e mcturcthztmudzmcu-
tz| unìty ueteu|ydìsterts eur uudcrstzndìngeIerdìuzqcxpcrìcncc, ìt
mìscouccìvcsìt.5eìnthccud,semcIormeIzmoræ-cpìstcmo|o@ohcrs
zn ìntcgrztìvc dcscrìptìou, urgcs z dìz|cctìca| cxp|erztìen, znd provìdcs
z sc|I-rchcxìvczttìtudc to know natre d meaningl eerence.
Î Ü
1hìs
cmrttocrcztìvc|yctzb|ìshcohcrcuccìnzwer|drcmctcdìnmznywzy
wzs ìntroduccd zt thc bcgìnnìugoIthìsbeok ìn thc coutcxt eIthc cou-
hìctoIscìcncczud rc|ìgìen. Now l trust ìtìszppzrcnt thzt l rcgzrd thc
chz||cngcmorcgcncrz||yzszmorævcnturc, momìnthcscnsceIdchu-
ìngzndthcnzmrmìngthcmorz|compæs,whìchgìdcsour|ìvc. Wìth
thìs orìcntztìen,scìcucc ìs thcrcbycxpzndcd ìuto ìts m|| dìmcusìon.A
cpìstcmo|o@whìch docs uot zccountIor humzn vz|uc ìs |zdcu wìth zu
unrcse|vcd ìreny, pzrt|yzttrìbutcdto ìtshìsterìcz|dcvc|epmcntzndpzr-
tìz||yductoìtscmbcddcdprcccpts.1hztwhìchmzstcrsz|socus|zvcs,thzt
whìchprovìdcsz|socxpcuds,thztwhìchcu|ìghtcnsz|sedìscuchznts.
1hcphì|osophyl hzvcdcscrìbcdon|yout|ìncsznzmbìtìousprejcct,
but ìts thcmc zppczrs c|czr|y. thcwor|d pìcturc scìcncc ohcrs docs not
necesarl |czvchumznsz|ìcuztcd.mcrz||, scìcuccìszhumzn ìnvcntìou
Ierhumzn usc. 1hc huìtsoIscìcutìhc|zbor mzy bc hzncstcd ìn mzuy
wzys, znd whì|c thc ízustìzu bzrgzìu sccms hrm|y cntrcnchcd, crìtìcz|
zttcmpts te rcvìscthztcontrzct rcmzìn possìb|c, znd ìudccd ncccsszq.
1hc ncccssìty zrìscs Irom thc mctzphysìcz| schìsmeIthcsc|Ipccrìngat
thcwor|d, whcrc who|cncss, ìutcgrztìou, znd cohcrcncc bccemc zspìrz-
tìens. 5etezddrcsbeth thcìustrumcutz|znd mctzphysìcz| ro|ceIthc
scìcntìhccndczver rcguìrcs z rcconhgurcd rc|ztìonshìpoIthcknewìng
zgcntzndhcrebjcctoIìuguìqthztzcknow|cdgcsthccemp|cxìntcrp|zy
eIebjcctìvcknow|cdgczudsubjcctìvcmcznìng. íremthìspoìuteIvìcw,
merz|-cpìstcmo|o@ehcrszrcspouscto Ocwcy`szcutcdìzguosìs.
CONCLUSION
The problem of restoring integration and cooperation beteen man's
belief about the world in which he lives and his belief about the values
and purposes that should direct his conduct is the deepest problem of
moern life. It is the problem of any philosophy that is not isolated fom
that life. (Deey l 929l l 984,204)
18
5
On tbìs vìcw, ìnstczd eIcxc|usìvc|y rc|cgztìngpbì|esepbyeIscìcncc te
tccbnìcz| cenccrns, z|bcìt bìgb|y uscm| Ier pzrtìcu|zrpurpescs, Ocwcy
rcmzìncdzmengtbesc(c.g. ,Hcìdccr,Husscr|,|cznFzu|5znrc,Hcrbcrt
Mzrcusc,|0rgcn Hzbcrmzs) wbe rcgrdcd pesìtìvìsmæzsymptemeIz
mz|zdy, neteIìtsc|I butzszncpìpbcnemcneneIzdccpcrmctzpbyìcz|
crìsìs. Ocwcy`s zpprezcb scncs zs z p|ztIerm te centìnuc pbì|esepby`s
unhnìsbcd busìncsseIcenhentìngtbcLzrtcsìzncmbzrmssmcnteIsc|I-
censcìeusncss,zszmerz|-cpìstcme|e@`stee|sIerìnsìgbtzndìntcgrztìen
dìrcct|ycenhenttbcdì|cmmæprevekcdbyscìcntìhcknew|cdgc.
Occy`sprzgmztìsmmzkcsìtscemmìtmcntstemtìngscìcncc ìnìts
m|| pbì|esepbìcz| rcndcrìng. lnstczd eIscckìng semc tetz|ìzìngrczsen,
bccbzmpìencdrczsen ìnz||eIìtsvzrìcgtcd Ierms. Hcrcgrdcdscìcncc
zs z pbì|esepby tbzt musthnd ìts p|zcc ìn ìts |zrgr pbì|esepbìcz| cem-
munìtybybcttcrìntcgrztìngìtsehcrìng.1bìsprzgmztìczpprezcbrcmst
1berczu`sspìrìtuz|zndzcstbctìcz||yìnspìrcdpbì|esepby,butczcbpeìntcd
te tbcszmcpreb|cm zndseugbtz sìmì|zrrcse|utìen. zn ìntcgrztcd znd
cebcrcntp|zccmcnteIscìcnccìneur|ìvcs.` ` 1bcsc|I-censcìeusncsstbzt
censtznt|yrcmìndsbumznseItbcìrìndìvìduz|ìtymnnetbcdìsse|vcd,ne
zttcmptztsemcmystìcz| unìen ìs suggcstcd bcrc. lnstczd, betb Ocwcy
znd 1beræu zdvemtcdznzpprccìztìeneItbc rìcb unìvcrscscìcnccehcn
us ìn z|| eIìts wendcrznd bczuty, czcbseugbtzn cnrìcbmcnt eI|ìIc
tbreugb bcttcr undcrstzndìngeIbew tbc pìcturceItbcwer|d bzs bccn
cnbznccdbyscìcntìhczdvzncc. bcyend tbctccbnìcæ mzstcqeInzturc,
scìcncctbcnbccemcszcrucìz|tee|Ierzm||crzpprccìztìeneInzturcznd
eurp|zccmcntìnìt.
Wc new|ìvczttbccndeIpesìtìvìsm`sdcmìsc,se ìtìstìmcte mevc
enzndæk,wbìtbcrscìcncc`sncpbì|esepby!Wbztcpìstcme|egìcz|prc-
ccputzkctbcp|zcceIdìsmrdcddìctums! IIprzgmztìsm bæbccemceur
dchu|tcd rcstìngp|zcc,wbztzrcìtsewnpbì|esepbìcz| |ìmìts!Acrz||,
tbcprzgmztìcrcsìdcsìnznctbcreIvz|ucs,zndtbcìncrcdu|eusmzywc||
zsk te wbzt cnd decs tbc przgmztìst vcnturcl Ocwcy |ch ne prcscrìp-
tìens, buten|yehcrcd znzpprezcb,wbìcb eut|ìncs tbìs pre¡cct, erIer
tbc merc skcptìcz|, "zttìtudc. "Acrz||,wbcn suncyìngscìcnccstudìcs
186 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FORMENING
evcrthcpastIortyycars,thcpragmatìcappreachhasevcnakcnothcrphì
-
|esephìcseIscìcncc. byebscnìngscìcntìsts ìn practìccand thc manncr
ìnwbìcbrcscarchbccemcsknew|cdgc,scìcnccstudìcshavcdcmenstratc
d
bewzhcxìb|cvz|ucstructurcz||ews IerthcIrccdcvc|epmcnteIìnvcstì-
gtìen znd tbceqcenstructìen. ln tbztchen, ìt bccemcs apparcnt that
thc |ìnc dcmzrmtìngscìcncchem etbcrIermseIknew|cdgc Iermatìon
hzvcbccn b|urrcd. lt ìs tbìs crzck ìn tbc Ienrcss eItbc |zberzteq that
rcvcz|sbew scìcncc ìs cmbcddcd ìn ìts suppertìngcu|turc zndcehcrcs
ìn z vzst|ycemp|cx ncmerkeIdìhcrcntIermseIknew|cdgc. Se Irem
tbìs vzntzgc, wìtb tbc |zberzteq`s deer swungwìdcepcn, wc bzvc thc
eut|ìnceIzn ìntcgrztìvcvcnturc, bzscd net en zn ìdcz|ìstcenstructìon
erzIermz|rcductìenbutentbcepcnzrchìtccturceIzprzgmztìsmthat
zcccpts tbc p|urz|ìtyeIknew|cdgc zccempznìcd by mu|tìhrìeusvz|ucs
znddìvcrsc nccds. ln tbc spìrìteItbìs synthctìc zspìrztìen, l szy te scì-
cncc,"StcpIemzrdzndwc|cemcbzck|"
Notes
Intducon
LgìstcmìcvzIucs "grcmctc tbc trutb-Iìkc cbzmctcr cIscìcncc" (McMuIIìn l º8J,
l 8)zndzrccmcìzIIcræmcnt.1cvzIucìncIudcgrcdìctìvczccumq,ìntcmzI
ccbcrcncc,mtcrnzIccnsìstcnq,unìqìnggwcr,IcnìIìty,zndsìmgIìcìq.LIIotìvcIy,
cgìstcmìcvzIuczrctbcmæsbywbìcb scìcntìsts æ tbc"htno"cItbcìrtbm
rìctctbcnzturæwcrId. NctctbztwbìIcsucbvzIucbzvcgrcvcngrzgmztìcwcnb,
tbqææsIìdccnznzctbctìcccntìnuum,wbcrc "sìmgIc" znd "gzrsìmcnìcus," Icr
ìnstzncc, mzyC dìhcrcntwcìgbts ztdìhcrcntstzgcIz tbccq`sdccIcgmcnt.
ÅmccIIcntcxzmgIcìschcrcd ìnmocIìngccmgIcxcccIcgìczIsystcms(MìkkcIæn
Z00l ) . wbcndt zrcIìmìtcd, sìmgIc mocIsærqmcrcvcrìsìmìIìtudc, tbztìs,grc-
dìctìvcsucco, butwbcn mcrcdt bccmczvzìIzbIc, tbczdvzntzgccIsìmgIìcìq
dccræ,zndmcrcccmgIcxmocIsdcmìnztc.(IncccIc@,bcIìstìcmocIszrcusu-
æIysìmgIcrtbznrcductìcnìstcncs,tbuswbcndztzzrcIìmìtcd,bcIìstìcmocIsbzvc
mzdwtzgccvcrmocIsbzædcnmcrcrcductìcnìstmctbocIcgìc.)
Ncncgìstcmìc vzIucszrc tbcædcÑuItvzIucscmgIcycd wbcn cgìstcmìccrìtc-
rìz ÑìI, mcrc IcrmzIIy, tbcyzggzr tccIcsc tbccmgìrìczI "gg bmccn undcrdc-
tcrmìncd tbccqznd tbccvìdcncc brcugbt ìn ìts suggn" (McMuIIìn l º8J, l º).
AIthcugb sucb vzIucsdcnctcnbznccz tbccq`scgìstcmìcstztus, tbcydcrchcct
mImmI, gIìtìæ,znd rcIìgìcusbcIìch,wbìcb ccmbìnc tcsuggncrwækcntmtb
cIzìms.5ucomItbccrìcswìtncuzsbìhcIsuggnhcmncncgìstcmìctccgìstcmìc
vzIuc(IcrzncxzmgIc,mRu l ººº, l 4Jh.),wbìIcctbcrwækcrtbmrìcmzyIìn-
@rbu cItbcgwcrcItbcsuggnìngcuItumvzIucs.AggrccìztìngbcwvzIuc
wcIvcd zndwcrc vzrìcusIyzggIìcd sccmcd cbvìem wbcn ccnsìdcrcd ìn tbc ncn-
cgìstcmìcsgbcrc (cuIturzI mænìng, grscnzI grccIìvìtìcs, gIìtìczI ìdccIcgìcs, znd
æIcnb). butsìmìIzrdynzmìccIcbzngczndzggIìætìcnwcrcnctwìdcIyzcccgtcd
188
NoTES TO r.
7
ægcvcrnìngtbcvaIucscpcratìngìntbc |abrztcq. 5cìcncc studìcs ìntbcp
ast
fo
n

ycars radìcz||ya|tcrcdtbatbæìcIcrmu|atìcn.

Undcr|yìngtbccpìstcmìdncncpìstcmìcdyadìsznctbcrccntrcvcrsy
ccn
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o
i a
tbccbzractcrcIcgìstcmìcvzIucs tbcmsc|vcs. lntbc rczIìsmlzntìræIìsm
dcb
ate
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cbzg.3.n. l l ),cgìstcmìcvzIucæsumcdìhcrcntrc|cszndmcanìngs(c.g. ,Cu
s
h
i
n
g
c
Oc|zncy, zndGuttìng l 984, Lg| ìn l 984,Mcscr l 990, bcyd, Gægcr,
and
Trou,
l 99l , bcyd Z00Z),znd mm tbcscdìhcrìngmcznìngtbc bztt|c |ìncs wcrc
dra
wn
cvcr"ccnstructìvìsm, mcnsgcìhczI|y,"sccìzIccnstructìvìsm.
Z Fcrbzgs tbc kcy urtcxt cIscìcncc studìcs ìs 5tcvcn 5bzgìn znd 5ìmcn Schafer\
lil than and th� Air Pump: Hobbn. Bok and th� Emmmtl Li ( l 985
). Thi \
scmìnzI wcrkzttcmgtstcdìsgc| wbzt tbcsoìzI ccnstructìvìsts mzìntaìn ìsa false
dìvìsìcnbcmoncgìstcmc|c@zndsccìc|c@.1bczutbcnz@uctbatbeond s
h
ow­
ìngbcwtbcæìzIccntcxtzhcctcd tbcscìcntìhcdcbztcbmccnbcy|cand Hobbe;
ìnævcntccntb ccntuqLngIznd, wbztw ræ|yztstzkcw tbcvcqìnvcntioou|
z scìcncc, ìtssccìzI ccntcxt,zndtbcdcmzrcztìcn bcmccn tbcmc. brunc Latour
Izuds tbc bcckzs"tbc rczI bcgìnnìngcIz ccmgzrztìvc zntbrcgc|cgy tbat t
1
kc·
scìcnccscrìcus|y" (l 993, l 5) . ícrzn cxcc||cnt rcvìcw cItbcrc|ztìcncIscicocc.
vzIucs, znd ìdcc|c@ìn tbcccntcmgcrzqccntcxt,scc Hc|cn Lngìnc`s "Sci ence
znd ldcc|c@" (cbagtcr 9cIScimc� N Socal Knowkdg�. l 990), wbìcb ìs
b
ased UH
tbcwcrkcIHzbcrmæ, Mìcbc| ícuæu|t,zndtbcIcmìnìsts Lvc|yn ícx Kcller and
OcnnzHzrzwzy. Oggcncnts zrguc tbztsucbmctz-znz|yscs, ìn gcncra|, cannot
zcbìcvccbjcctìvc grìcrìty. 1bcyæ| ìntc gucstìcn wbctbcrz ncutrzI ccnstruoivi·t
grcjcctìscvcngcssìb|cztzII.Otbcrcrìtìcìsmzpptcb|oc|mzgìnstpanicul1r
ìdm|cgìczI zgndæ. 1busccntrcvcrsyccnccrnìngtbcdcgrcc tcwbìcb scìcnce m1ÿ
bcrìtìcìud mm z IcmìnìstcrMznìst gngcctìvc nc|vcs zmund tbccxpl i
-
it or
ìmg|ìcìtcbz@sccnccrnìngtbcgrcjudìcc(ì. c. , mzIc-dcmìnztcdcræpìta|ìst·dr|.LH
scìcncc) tbztmìgbtbczvì|ydctcrmìnc, ìInctdìrot,tbccnc�tlizton project of
cbjcctìvcscìcnccìtsc|I
In my study, l rcIcr rcgcztcd|y tc "scìcncc studìcs," wbìcb must bc di sti n­
guìsbcd Ircm "scìcncczndtccbnc|c@studìcs" (515). 5cìcnccstudìcs rcfer to the
brczd ìntcr-dìscìg|ìnzry cxzmìnztìcn cIscìcncc, z|tbcugb scmcwcu|d pla
-
L i r
mcrcsgccìhczI|yæzbrzncbcItbcsccìc|c@cIkncw|cdg.1bccbzractcrof studÿ
dcgndscntbcdìscìg|ìnzqccmmìtmcntscItbcccmmcntztcr,æIcrmc the mu·|
ìntcrctìng(zndcbaIIcngìng)ægctscItbccxzmìnztìcncIæìcnccgìvcs
gri
0
1
O'
gbì|cscpbìm ìnsìgbt æ ìt ìmgacts cn ìntcrgrctztìcnscItbc bìstcq znd thcsociol ­
c@cIscìcncc.Nctc,tbcgrcmìncncccItbcgbì|cscgbìæcrìcntztìcndccsnotdeny
tbztgbì|cscpbcnzrcbczvì|yìnhucnccdbyæìc|cgìæ gnmyzIscIbcwsci en
'
| ¬
zctuzI|y mnctìcn.AcccrdìngIy,czcb zggrczcb (gbì|cægbìæ, bìstcrìcaI, and socio­
|cgìczI)ccntrìbutcstctbcctbcrs.WìIcl r@zrdscìcnccstudìcsænìngasafª
t-º
´"''
tcrm Icr tbcvzrìcuszædcmìcdìscìg|ìncstbztstudytbc grouctìcn and
usc
of
sCI ­
cncckncw|cdgc, 515 trczts scìcnccæzsoìzI ìnstìtutìcnzndsgcìhcz||y
cx8
m| 0t•
( l ) bcwsccìzI, gc|ìtìczI,znd cu|turzI vzIucszhcctscìcntìhcrcsczrcb and
t
F

'`
IcgìczI ìnncvztìcn, znd (Z)bcwtbcsc ìnturnzhcct soìcty, gc|ìtìcs, and
-º"¸
u
'�
515 ìs tbus dccìdcd|y sccìc|cgìczI ìn ìtscrìcntztìcn,zndzsz mcrccìrcu0
''"
br
dìscìg|ìnc, ìtbæìtscwngrcIcuìcnzIsoìctìc,jcurnzIs,zndzædcmìcdcpa
nm¯
n
'

wbìcbccnIcrbtb bacczIaurætczndgrzduztcd@rccs. Hcrc,cbzgtcn
4an
d
5 pn-
NOTES TO PP. t|-z8
mat||ydca|w|th |ssocsccotta| toSTS, wh||cthc tcma| o|ogcxpos|t|ooadhctcs to
thc ph||osoph|ca| approach as dcsct|bcdabovc. Fo||ow|og th|s otgao|mt|oo,ooc
th
cs|sptcscotcd hctc |sthat thcSTS oodctstaod|ogo|sc|coccdtaws hcav||ymm
thcph||osoph|ca||tamcotk|owh|chcoosttoct|v|smp|ayssochaptom|ocotto|c.
Fottcptcscotat|vcaotho|og|csthatcovctthcbtoadd|sc|p||oco|sc|coccstod|csM
P|ckct|og(l ººZ),]aæoodcta|. (l ºº5),aod ß|ag|o|| (l ººº). Fotc|tcomspct|vc
v|cso|thcaccomp||shmcotso|sc|coccstod|cs,M tcccot|otctptctat|vcstod|cby
ßtowo (Z00l ),Zmm|to(Z004),aodSoka|(Z008).
3
Thc"oo|hcat|ooo|tcasoo" ptob|cm |otma||ydatcs tothcc|ghtccoth-ccotoqæ
poscd by Kaot. Hcchatactct|ud sc|cocc |otctmso|dcxt|b|ogthccood|t|oosby
wh|ch "potc tcasoo" moct|oocd tostodythc oatota| wot|d. In conttæt, hcptc-
scotcdaæoodk|odo|tat|ooa||ty, "ptact|ca|tcæo,"tooav|gtcthcm|dlmota|
wot|d.So,IotKaot,mokodso|tmoowctctcqo|tcd|othomanoodcntaod|ogo|
thcoatomaodmota|oo|vctws.Thcptob|cm,thco,¼ to|otcgtatcthccootmt-
|ogwaysoIkoow|og. Thccha||cogco|howtcæoo m|ghtbctcgtdcdæ oo|hcd,
thc"oo|qo|tmoo"ptob|cm,dosoothntappw|thKaot'sxhcma,botgmw
hommocto|q'scoooodtomo|dctctm|o|oghowhomaosL bbthpanoIthc
oatota|wot|do|mowaodcdcct,aodatthcæmct|mc,cxctc|wfew|||aodthos
assomcmota| tcpos|b|||ty. HowKaottcgatdcd "potc"aod"ptact|m"tcæooæ
oo|hcdhæbccodc||bctatcd|othtccbæ|cIotmo|at|oos.
( l ) ThcyÅ cmpatbk w|thcachothct,that|s,|omHtæthcpt|oc|p|cs
oIoocdoootcood|ctw|ththowo|thcothct,
(Z) bthL bdct|vcdæcompocotso|aoo|taqaodcomp|ctcsystcm
oIph||osophy,wh|ch hææ|tsstatt|ogpo|otas|ogchntpt|oc|p|c,
(J) thcypmao|dcot|ca|oodct|y|og"sttoctotc,"otcoost|totcwhat|s
|ococcas|og|cact|v|qo|thcsobjcct (Ncohoowt l ºº0, l Z).
Thcaotooomyo|both thcotct|ca|aodptact|ca| tcasoo scncsasthcbcdtockoI
Kaot'scot|tc ph||osophy, asystcmthatptov|dcs |ot Itccdom |oboththcapptc-
hcos|oo o|thc oatota| wot|daod thcd|scctomcoto|mota| act|oo |nthcsoc|a|
wot|d.Ootmktcma|osthcmc,oamc|y,thccha||cogo|makiogtmoo~ag|o,
|o Kaot'swotds,potctmooaodptact|ca| æoo~who|c (Nc|mao l ºº4,Taobt
Z007). I makcooptctcosco|odct|ogmmccomptchcos|vcso|ot|oo,botI dod|s-
cctoaoapptoach.
9
I havc adoptcd ad|scots|vc sttatc@, wh|ch cots actossscvcta| d|sc|p||oaq||ocs.
Wt|ttco |oaoAog|o-Amct|caovo|cc,dom|oatcd byaptagmat|stpo|oto|v|c,
"coot|ocota|"thcmcs|o thcph||osophyo|sc|coccappthctc|oobv|oos,æwc||
asd|sgo|scd,Iotmats (Gott|ogZ005). kcccot|y,othctshavca|so|ooodcommoo
mowtoctmtcaocttans-At|aot|cttmqæthcpmb|cms|dcot|hcd|ooocwot
tcsooatcw|thcoocctosan|co|atcd |o thcothct(c.g. ,Ap| l º88, Ft|cdmao Z000,
Mo|ha||Z00J,PtadoZ00J,koddZ00J,L|otooaodSaodbthcZ004,kokmotc
Z005, ßtavctZ007). Ftom mypo|oto|v|c, th|s movcmcot L oo|y cot|ch thc
pono|uo|a||. Iodccd, wcmaywc|| havcatt|vcdatao|odcct|oo p|ot |oph||om-
phy's h|stoq, whctc thco|d d|v|s|oos atc mc|d|og |oto somcth|ogoc. I bc||cvc
th
atcxpaod|ogthcchatactct|mt|ooo|sc|cocca|oogsoch ||ocsodcts a ptom|s|og
pathtowatdsthatgoa|.
t}O NoTES TO PP. z}-|O
cta,:�-1
Ctd|oa| Schöobto`stc|ctcoccto|otc|||gcotdcs|go |o h|s Nn York iim,
op·

p|ccc Qo|y7, Z005) maybcsommat|tcdas a dcbatc aboot thc cvo|ot|ooo|b|o-
|og|ca|comp|cx|ty,wh|ch hæa|oogh|stoq(Km l ºº6)aodmotc tcccot||tctatat
c
oothc|ssoco||otc|||gcotdcs|go (PcoookZ00l , Km Z00J, Dcmbsk
| aod
8ase
Z004, mta socc|oct tc|c,wNakho|k|ao Z004). Lvo|ot|oo|stsagcthat|othe
cooncoItaodommotat|oos,motccomp|cxopt|oosÅ odctcdaodthcsc maybe
choscotoaccommodatcthcsttcsscso|chaog|ogcov|toomcotsaodcompct|t|oa
amoogothct sp|c. Oo th|sv|c,b|o|og|ca| d|vcts|q, |o|t|at|ogsomct|mcs motc
comp|cx, aodatothct t|mc moæs|mp|c"m|ot|oos,"havcappcd.Accotd|ogto
ocoDa~|o|sm,"dc|go"|saoooomc|cmcot|o¬p|a|o|ogco|ot|oo(scc|ot
¬mp|c, M|||ctZ004).
Z Thccmt|oo|supscammchatd|mtcotkodo|pomcotthao|otc|||gcotdcs|ga
ptopoocots. Thc|tatgomcot docs oot acqo|cscc to thc sc|cot|hc hod|ogs, but
tathctd|spotcsthcHmthcmsc|vcs.Thcyhavcstobbto|yoppscdcootcmpotaq
Da~|o|smby|os|st|ogthatctmt|oo|sm |sabooahdc thæqo||||caodthatthe
hod|ogdoomcotcdbyco|ot|oo|stsæomcad|dctcotmmo|og|octcat|oo|stthc-
oq. Stodcotso|th|scoottovctsyhavccooc|odcd, aodI th|okH|t|y,thatthcatg-
mcotmoootbwoobyc|dcocc(Sobtl ººJ).ThcDæ|o|stsp|ottomoaota| as
o|mo|cco|at,pa|æoto|og|c,aodphy|ogoct|cdatatoshowb||odco|ot|ooatwotk
|o thchc|daod|abmtoq,æwc||æ|othcg|og|ca| mm. Thccmt|oo|stsatge
that God p|accd thc h|stoq thctc by tcasoo o|d|v|ocw|sdom, that cvo|ot|oo |s
d|tcctcdaod thos bcstowcd byGod, that aoomo|sc|cot bc|og ctcatcd thcwot|
µ
.
mdpthapsth|sCtcatotcoot|ooctogo|dcco|ot|oo,Iot|tsowopotpscs.G|vca
thcmodamcotd|yd|dctcotoodct|y|ogptcsopps|t|ooso|cach p|oto|v|c, ao
mm|ogdcbatc¬|sts.
J Sc|cocc's|osttomcota||qhæat|cætmod|mcos|oos.Thchntæ|cntohowtcscatch
|sapp||cdtodc|w tcchoo|og|c. Thctmhoo|og|cm|ghtb pot tocoosttact|vc
m(thcosoa|c) ot|ostmdcmp|oycdæato||otpotpwqo|tcatodsw|ththe
ot|g|oa| |otcoto|w k|ogkoow|cdgc|otthcso|a|go.Th|s|ostmmcota|qoæ|q
o|sc|cocc(|tstmhoo|og|ca|pwct) ho|dsooco||ts|too|c.|ostmdo|ma|ota|a| ag
|tsot|g|oa| ph||osoph|ca|ctcdcot|a|s,sc|cocc, ot motc ptcc|sc|y, |tstcchoo|og|c+|
pqoy, toohco|smd|votccd|mmthowmt||ctcoootosthatthcbæ|ctcscatch
bccomcs a too| that maybcapp||cd |odcpcodcot|yo|thc pt|maq|otcoto|thc
|ovcst|gt|oo.Co-optcdbythoscwhoscowoagcodahæooth|ogtodow|th pto-
mot|ogthcWcstctova|ocsthatspawocdx|cocc|othchntp|acc,wchavcpa|am||y
|catocd howsomcmayoscpwctm| tcchoo|og|csæao |osttomcoto|powct|ot
m|op||t|ca|codsatodsw|thootowo.
A sccood scosc o||osttomcota| | ty tc|cts tosc|cocc's |otc||cctoa| act|
v|ty, +
modco|d|scovcq aod koow|og,whctc thc hod|ogs atc oscd ||kc acottcacy
to
boyd|dctcotgoods. Thcgosatc hod|ogs ot|dcæ, wh|ch atc thco p|accd | ato
acooccptoa|cootcxt.Thccompct|ogcoot¬tmaybd|dct|ogx|cot|hcthcot|cs.
bot |o th|s d|scoss|oo, l am |otctcstcd |otc||g|ooscootcxts. Fotcxamp|c, thcsoa
æomcsacctta|o mcao|ogæcooccptoa||udbyamatct|a||st|cættophy|c, aaJ+
NoTES TO rr.
32
-
4
6 1
9
1
dìhcrcntcncwbcn rcgardcd æ Agc||c rzcìngzcrcsstbcbczvcns. 1bcGrcck my
hæbcncc|ìgscd,butccrtæn rc|ìgìcus mndmcntzIìstswì|| ccntct tbccntc|c@cI
gzrtìcIcgbysìcæ"thcLU
^
cItbcsun`s bình,zndìnstædrcIcrtcGo`swìIIznd
dc|ìbmtccbcìo.Whcrctbcgbysìcìstwì|Izdmìtthztkncw|cdgrczchczIìmìt,thc
tmcb|ìccrwìIIgmbtbc unìvcm`s crìgìnsbzck ìntc tbcdìvìnc W. 1bcguctìcn
zt hznd mmmzyb sìmgIydchncd. wbcndm kncwIcdgcndznd bIìcIbn!
1hztbrdcrhæzgìnbccmcznzctìvcbznIchcId,mrncIothzntbczutbcrìqcI
kncwImgìsztstzk.
4
5ubIìmìty bmczn zItcrnztìvc ccnccgtìcn cIzcstbctìc rcsgcnscznd ìntcrgrcm-
tìcnìnthccìgbtontbccntuq(Abhc|dznddcbc||z l ºº6)zndthcnbybn mc
mcstmnttumtcwzrd nztunæzrcIìgìcusrcumzndcbjcctcIdìvìnìty`s gm-
cnodurìngthcnìnctccnthccntuq(Mcízr|znd l º6º).WìthKzntzndH@I,sub-
Iìmc nhcctìcngrcvìdcdz mocI Icr ìntcrgrctztìvc rcsgnm tc thcdìvìnc Othcr,
znd thc unænnycrungrzsgzbIc dìmcnsìcn cIìntuìtìvc mgrìcncc (FìIIcw Z000).
5ubIìmìtyzchìccd zgzrtìcu|zrIycnbznccd stztusdurìngthc mmzntìcgrìoznd
hæmu@dìnæmcguzrtcncIcnvìrcnmcntzIìsm (1zubrZ00J). 1bzthìstcqìs
nctcurgmntccnccrn (zIthcugb cnvìrcnmcntzIìsm ìscxzmìncd ìnchzgtcr 5). I
hzwz mcrc moctgezI, nzmcIytchìgbIìgbt bcwzcthctìcznd rcIìgìcmwcndcr
mzybqcdznzIcgus|y,zt|ætìnccmìnc|æsìczIIcrmuIztìcns,zndhcwæì-
cnomzycnIìstìnthztccugIìng.
5 lcr Nìcmchc, thc zctbctìc dcmzín cxgm thcccrccIbumzn vìmIìqznd mc
mænscIrcIm mmz rctrìctìvc rztìcnzIìq. HcìdcrcIqucndydmrìbd tbc
mIccIbuqIcrNìcmbc`sgbìIcscghy.
KgtunæzstztccIIccIìngcxg|ocstbcvcqsubjotìvìqcIthcsubjcct.
byhzvìngzhc|ìngmrbuqthcsubjcctbæzIræyccmccutcIhìmæ|h
hcìsncIcngrsubjcctìvc,nc|cngrzsubjcct.Onthccthcrsìdc,buqìs
nctæmcthìngztbzndIìkczncbjcctcIsbccrrcgrcntztìcn.Aznzttun-
ìng,ìtthcrcughIydctcrmìncsthztstztccImzn.bæutybrczkstbrcughtbc
mnhncmcntcIthc"cbjot"g|zodztzdìstmcc,stzndìngcnìtscwn,znd
brìngìtìntccwntìzIzndcrìgìnzIccrrcIztìcntctbc "subjcct." bæuqìs
ncIcngrcbjcctìvc,ncIcngrzncbjcct.1bczcthctìcstztcìsncìtbcrsub-
jotìvc ncrcbjcctìvc. bcth bæìcwcrdscINìctæchc`szcstbctìc, rzgturc
zndbuq,dcìgnztcwìthzn ìdcntìczI bræth thccntìrc zcthctìcstztc,
whztìscgncdugìnìtzndwhztgnzdc ìt. (l º7º, l ZJ)
6
AncthcrwycIccntcmgIztìngtbcægzmtìcncItbc«t mmtbcwcrIdìtsunq
tumsæII<cnæìcusnocnìtsbczdtcmzkgzrtìtìcnzvìnuc.Hzns]cnæcbæncd
hcwccnscìcusncss grcvìdcs thc guzrzntcc cIgcrscnbccd. In thìs vìw, tbcvcq
im�biliqtcmcrgcwìth Nzturcæurcs bumznsz tmnmndcnoæ mcrzI crcztum
znd bcccmcs thc mctzgbysìczI bzsìscIsc|mccd gcnæ l º6J, JZ0h. ), crzs OIzI
Hzmncbænc,"1hccIævìwcItbcunzttzìnzbIc|cn±ìdcntìqtccurcxìstcno
ìnthìswcrId,b�camwcænnctìntcgrztcthcccsmcs.5cthcn,wbztccrshzge
ìndìvìduzI`scxìstcnccwì|I bzvc, ìtsìdcntìqìsdcrìvztìvccIz gurìqcIvìsìcn, whìch
L cnIy bc dchncd ìn tcrmscIìts unwcr|d|ìncss. Hcncc, tbc wcr|dIy, grzctìczI
mnmucnocIcurguctIcrìdcntìty" (Hznscn l ºº0,4).
7
OznìcIGmnb@cmnztygìmIcgìnìcnzbutæìcno`sctbìcmug|mtczmctìvc.
NOTES TO PP.
47
-
5
1
Fa||| ogs |oopcoocss,co||cg|a||ty, tcspcct |othomao aodao| ma| cxpct| -
mcota| sobjccts, aodsc|cot|hcaodhoaoc|a| |otcgt|tyatccommootop|cs
|o sc|cot|hcjootoa|s aod oo a tht|v|ogcoo|ctcocc c|tco|t. Thc haod-
wt|og|og,atgomcots,aod tcct| m| oat|oosgooo,w|th|oaodbcyoodthc
boodat|cso|sc|cocc.ßotcth|m|coocctosatcas|dcshowo|sc|cocc,pto-
v|d|oggt|st |ot thcptcss aod mota||t|ogpo||t|c|aos, thoogh w|th || tt|c
actoa|cdcctoothccoodocto|thc tcscatch cotctpt|sc. W|th|o sc|cocc,
thccth|ca||æocatcovcnhadowcdbymatct|a|coocctos.Thcsccoocctos
coosomcmotccoct@thaoaoyattcmptstotcct|qcth|ca|shoncom| ogs.
Motc moocy |ot sc|cocc |s thc commaod|ogpass|oo o|thc po| |t|cs o|
sc|cocc . . . . Dcsp|tc|tscth|ca| aogtaod shoncom|og, sc|cocctoday|s
oo|yashonwaydowothcpathtobcom|ogatoadyo|cotptatcpowct.
D|stotb|ogcv|dcocc|sp|cot|m||otcooccto abotthccth|mcostso|sc|-
cocc'ss|og|c-m|odcdpotso|to|mooq.(Z00J,J)
8 A a gcocta| mattct, thc tc|at|oosh|po||acts aod va|ocs as a ph||osoph|ca| aad
psycho|og|ca|prbln|sæo|d æ h|stoq.mcta||,Thoqd|dcs, |odcsct|b|ogthc
co||apsco|c|v|| otdct dot|ogthc Pc|opooocs|ao Wat (J. 8Z. 4), obscncd, "Aod
pop|ccxchaogd thccoovcot|ooa| va|oc o|wotds |o tc|at|oo toHcts, accotd|og
tothc|towo pctccpt|ooo|whatwæj ost|hcd" (ttaos|atcdby Pt|ccZ00l , º-l0).
Thoqd|dcsoodcnto thatthcmotd hamcotkírxcdthcmcao|ogo|Hcts,aod
h|sp||t|co-m|a|obscnat|oocæ||yttaos|atcs |o ootowo agc toapam|c| oodct-
staod|ogabotx|cocc.
º Thc|actlva|ocd|chotomy |ssoc oowposscsscs ao |mptcss|vc||tctatotc,aodcoo-
scqocot|yaoyattcmpt tosommat|tc |tcomm|tsaccna|o |oj ost|cc. Somcc |t to
ootchctcthatm|cdva|oc-|tccsc|coccadoptsthmbæ|cc|a|mscooccto|ogthc
coosttoct|oo aod osco|Hcts (Koca|dcta|. Z007, l J). Objcct|vcsc|cocc ocvct
ptcsoppscs ooocp|stcm|cva|ocs ( l ) |odctctm|o|ogwhat thccv|dcocc |sothow
stmog |t|s, (Z) |o ptov|d|ogaodÅ|ogthccp|stcm|cstatoso|cxp|aoat|oo, oot
(J) |odctctm|o|ogthcptob|cmssc|cot|stsaddtcss. Ech o|thoscæscn|oos,ovct
aw|dcspccttom o|atgomcots, hasbcco cha||cogcd (Potoam l º8Z, l ºº0, Z002,
McMo|||o l º8J, Log|oo l ºº0, Z00l , Ptoctot l ººl , Lç l ººº, Fattc|| Z003,
Koca|d,Dopté,aodWy||cZ007).
cta,:~z
Thcso-ca||cd "oc phys|o" cmc
t
g|tomthcptobab|||st|cchatactcto|qoaotoæ
mcchao|oaodthcHc|wobtg"ooccna|oqpt|oc|p|c, wh|chstatc,bæ|ca||y,that
obscnctscaoootdctctm|oc|oaoyabso|otcscosc thcp|accaodchatactcto|ao
atom|cpan|c|catthcæmc|ostaot. "||I koowwhctcaoc|cctmo |sI havcoo|dca
what |t |sdo|ogaod,coovctsc|y, ||I koow what |t |sdo|ogI do oot whctc |t |s¨
(Po|k|oghotoc l º85, J). S|mp|y, phys|ca|obscnat|ooptcc|odcsthcs|mo|ta
ocoas
dct|pt|ooo|thcps|t|ooaodmomcotomo|aoc|cmcompan|c|caodtca||
q
º
dct|bcdbyth|socphys|otcca|saoo|vcmdctctm|om,at|mt|otctmso|th
at
tca||tyæknown, bythcobscnctobscn|ogQammct l º7 4,56mDav|caodß
towo
l º86, l-Jº).
NoTES TO r.
5
1 1
93
bcczusc cItbc "mczsurcmcnt chcct" znd tbcccnscgucnt ungrcdìctzbìIìtycI
dcscrìbìngguzntummccbznìczIcvcnts,gbysìowcuIdzbzndcnìtsczrIìcrægìrztìcn
cImocIìngzn cbscncr-ìndcgndcntrczIìty.1bccntìrcbzsìscI"ÑctuzI" kncwI-
cdgcncwrcguìrcd rczsscssmcnt,zndzszccnscgucncctbcvcqstztuscItbcìdczcI
"cbjcctìvìty"æcìntcgucstìcn.1wcvìws,crìntcrgrctztìcns,dìvìdcccmmcntz-
tcrs (5bìmcny l ººl , íìnc l ººl ).
1bc "zntìrczIìst" scbccI , mcst rzdìczIIy IcrmuIztcd by bcbr (znd Icss
sc by vzrìcus suggcrtcrs, c.g. Wcrncr Hcìscnbcrg, ]cbn vcn Ncumznn,
LugcncWìgncr) bcIdstbzttbccntìrcIcrmzIìsm [gumtum mobmìc| ìs
tcb r@rdm æz toI Icrdcrìvìnggrcdìctìcns, cIdchnìtccrstztìstìæ
cbzrzctcr,æ rcgzrds ìnIcrmztìcn cbtzìnzbIc undcrcxgcrìmcntæ ccndì-
tìcnsdcærìbcd ìncIæsìczItcrms . . . . 1bcrc ìsncguzntumwcrId.1bcrc
ìscnIyznzbstmctguzntumgbysìczIdmrìgtìcn.Itìswrcngtctbìnktbzt
tbctækcIgbysìoìstc hndcutbcwnzturcìs. Fbysìoccnccrnswbztwc
L æyzbcutnzturc. (guctcdbyFcIkìngbcrnc l º85,7º)
Intbztsgìrìt,WcrncrHcìænbrgzdvotcdzstmngzntìmIìsm,wbcrccxgrìmcnu
cIztcmìcgbcncmcnzÅ æ ræ æznygbcncmcnzcIdIyIìIc, buttbcztcmscr
cIcmcntµgzrtìcIczrcnct,ìnæmucbætbcyIcrm zwcrIdcIgtcntìzIìtìccrgs-
sìbìIìtìcrztbcrthzn cnccItbìngcrÑcts(Hcìænb@l º58z, l º58b)."FctcntìzIìq"
bcccmcszn "zctuzIìty" cnccmcæurcmcnt ìs mzdc, ì.c.,cbscnztìcnsccIIzgsc tbc
wvcmnctìcnsìntccncstztccrznctbcr,zndtbc"mìq"cItbccbænmìshnzIIy
dctcrmìncd by tbc mczsurcmcnt. Futtìng æìdcwbctbcr tbìsgrcccss r�quim tbc
ìntcncntìcncImcntzIìq(5bìmcny l ººl , 5Z6Z7), tbcbæìc nctìcncImìnd znd
nztunmzkngzccmgsìtccIræIìtybætzkcncnznwdìmcnsìcn.
AIbrtLìnstcìnstnnucmIyrcsìstcdNìcIsbcbr`sìntcrgrctztìcnzndmzìntzìncd
mzttbcgrcbzbìIìstìccbzrzctcrcIguntummobznìczmæhcmìtsìnmmgIctcno,
ì.c.,ìtstbmrctìæI ìnccmgIctcno,wbìcb "ìsnctjustzdcìdcmtum Icrtbcgurgæ
cIzvcìdìng stmg, crunìntuìtìvc . . . ìmgIìætìcns, but tbzt ìt ìsæIyrcguìrcd
bytbcmrmzIìsmcIguntummobznìoìtæII`(5bìmcnyl ººl , 5Zl). In tbcmcm
Lìnstcìn-FocIsky-Kcæncxgrìmcnt(Ozvìczndbrcwn l º86),Lìnstcìnzttcmgtcd
tcnmtcbbr`szntìrczIìsmbysutìngtbzt"bìddcnvzrìzbIcs"wcngmnt,wbìcb
wcuIdzcccuntIcrguzntumunortzìntìcszndzctìcnztzdìstzncc. 1bztmgrìmcnt
gvcrìætczvætIìtcrzturc.AttbìsgìnttbccgtìcncIundoIzrcdvzrìzbIcbæbcn
cxcIudcdzndctbcræIutìcnsmrz"ræIìst"gìcturcbzvcbcnchcrcd,buttbcdcbztc
nmzìns unrcIvcdzmcngtbcscwbcm ktcsuggrtcrdctbmnc ræIìstìntcrgnm-
tìcns (wcbzg.J,n. l l ).
1bc ccnccìts cIzn ìndcgcndcnt cbscnztìcn znd zsscssmcnt bzvc bccn rzdìæIIy
cbzIIcngcd by mcntìctb-ccntuqsccìcIcgìsts cIkncwIcdgc, wbc mzìntzìn tbzt
kncwìngzndwzys cIkncwìngzrc mndzmcntzIIyccmmunzI znd tbzt tbcvcctcr
grìvztc ~ ccmmunìty (tbc gcsìtìvìst ccnccìt) ìs bzIznccd, zndscmcwcuId z@uc
dcmìnztcd, by tbcrcvcrscvcctcr, ccmmunìty ~ grìvztc. 1bcdcmìnzncccItbc
"tbcugbtccIIotìvc" (íIcck l ºJ5l l º7º) crtbcsoìzI æIvcntcI "gwcr" (ícuæuIt
l ºº4) gIzcctbcìndìvìduzIsccmbdcdwìtbìntbcccIIcctìvctbztbccrsbcìsnct
cnIydchncd bytbcsoìzI, butcnIycxìsts zndkncwsæ zncIcmcnt tbcrcìn. 1bìs
IcrmuIztìcn tbmbæ rzdìcæIycbzIIcngcd nì nctccntb-ccntuqccnccgtìcnscItbc
t}q NoTES TO PP. ¡q-¡6
tc|at|oosh|po|thc |od|v|doa|aodh|ssoc|cty,whctcbythc tomaot|c |od|v|do
a| |s
t
aodthcps|t|v|stshatcthc oot|ooo||odcpodcoccaod|od|v|doa||ty.
3 Homc`sLwappatsvat|oos|y|oHomc`sopos,botmostc|cat|ystatcd|oA Tr�atis�
ofHumn Natur� (ßook I I I , Pan l , scct|oo I). "l havca|ways tcmatk`d, that thc
aothotptoccds|otsomct|mc|othcotd|oaqwayo|tcæo|og,aodcstab||shcsthc
b|ogoIGo,otmakcobwnat|ooscooccto|oghomaoahts,whcoo|asoddca
Im sotpt|t`d tohod,that|ostmdoIthcosodcopo|at|oosoIptops|t|oos,is,
aa
d
unot, I mcctw|thooptops|t|oothat|sootcooocctcdw|thaoougt, otao
ought
not. Th|schaogc|s|mptccpt|b|c, bot |s,howcvct,oIthc|æt cooscqococc. Fot¢
th|s ought, otought not, cxptcsscssomcoc tc|at|oo otmtmat|oo, `t|s occcssaq
that|tshoo`d bobwn`daodcxp|a|o`d,aodatthcæmct|mcthatatcæooshoo|d
bcg|vco, Iotwhatsccms a|togthct |ocoocc|vab|c, how th|s octc|at|oocao bca
dmoct|oohom othcts, wh|chatccot|tc|yd|dctcotItom |t. ßotæaothotsdooot
commoo|yosc th|s ptccaot|oo, I shd| ptcsomc to tccommcod |ttothc tcadcts,
aodam ptsoadcd, that th|s smd| attcot|oowoo`d sobvcnd|thcvo|gatsystcms
oImotm|ty, aod|ctosscc, thatthcd|st|oct|oooIv|ccaodv|noc|s ootIooodc
µ
mctc|yoothc tc|at|ooso|objccts, oot|sptcc|v`dbyæo."(Homc l 739l l 978,
469-70)
4 Whcthct thcsc ocotta| |t|ogthctot|ca| dcv|ccs |atgc|y tcdcct acomm|tmcotto a
mmhm|cd (Cc|ao) v|coIthckoow|ogw|Ithatstt|vcstowatdaoootca||mb|c
m|ttot|ogoIoatotc, ottcptcscota dyoam|c aodcvo|v|ogsc|coccbæd oosomc
oo|vctm objmt|vc|dmshæbogtooodsIott|gtoosdcbatc(c.g. , Sc||ats l 96J
,
Tt| l 980,Gott|og l 983,ßoyd l 984,Wo|tctstothl 984,khct l 987,Lodao
l 990a).Fotcxmp|c,KcoocthGctgco(l 994)mdcsh|sL bascdoothcsttoctotc
oIthc koow|ogsc|Iasdod|st|c,whctcao |ooctpsycho|og|cm statcoI"koow|og¯
|scoottætcd toaocxtctoa|wot|d tob"koowo. " Pos|t|v|stsv|ccdthcobjcct|vc
m|od æscc|og"th|ogIotwhat thcyatc"aod|sthos "|o toochw|thm|q,"aod
thctc|sacotæspodcoccoIth|s tcd|tyw|thoot|aogoagcthatdcp|cts |t. Gctgca
tcjcctsth|sps|t|oo,aodatgocthatobjcct|v|qtctsooan oostmdypsycho|og|ca|
Iooodat|oo.Gctgco`s majotattcot|oo |soohowooc dctctm|ocs thc accotacyo|
ooc`s|otctod |dcot|hmt|oos, Iot |t|s|othcco||cct|vcagtccmcotcooccto|ogpct-
ccpt|oothatthc||m|tsoI|od|v|doa|koow|cdgatcsobsomcdtocooscosos.
5 In ascm|od m|d h|stoqoIthcx|cot|hccommoo|qoIthcwcotoothccotoq.
Shap|oaodSchadctcmphæ|uhowthcc|v|||qoILog||shat|stoæµmcdthc
pwcm| |cg|t|mat|mt|oo pto thatso|daothot|tycoo|cttcdoosc|cot|hcd|s-
coom.ThosHctswctc|o|agmcæoæacoptcdbythcsc|cot|hccommoo|tybascd
oothcm|dstaod|ogoIthcobwnct(Shap|oaodSchmt l 985, Shap|o l 994,scc
Iottooct|oo, o. Z). Th|s|mp||c|ttmt, |oootowncta,hæbntmoshttcdtothc
commoo|qat|agc.AShap|oobscncs, "thcvcqpwctoIx|cocctoho|dko
ow|-
cdgæco||cct|vcptoppan Ioosdoobtoob|tsoIcottcot|yaocptcdkoow|cdgc
|sIooodcd opoo adcgtccaodaqod|tyoIttost wh|ch atcatgoab|yoopata||c|cd
c|whctc|oootco|totc" ( l 994,4l 7). Tmst amoogt x|cot|sts|soIcoom bas
cd
oo thcshatcd |dcd o|sc|cot|hcobjmt|v|ty. bm thc|od|v|dodmoootach|cvc
objcct|v|tyas a pt|vatc mcotdcood|t|oo, moo|tot|ogobjcct|v|tythco bccomcsa
mattctoIbmadso|a|p||q,moowosos|stqo|tcdmoogpan|c|paotsæto
what
|scoos|dctcd ao objcct|vc accooot.mctd|, thcct|tct|a oIobjmt|v|qhavcvat|cd
NoTES TO PP. ¡
7
¬6t t}¡
ovctthcpæt|ootccotot|csæthcstaodatdso|sc|cot|hcptact|cchavccoot|oocdto
co|vc aod, o|cootw, d|dctcotx|cot|hcd|x|p||ocscmp|oy d|dctcot staodatds o|
pto|(Mg||| l 994).
6
Whatcoost|totcsa |act dcpcods opoo thc mctaphys|cs, cp|stcmo|o@, thcoq o|
tmth,aodwmaot|othatdctctm|oc|tsdcho|t|oo.IosomæHctsatcwhatmakctmc
sotcmcotstmc, |oqo|t|c thatdoootd|st|ogo|shthcmctaphys|moamtco|tmth
|tomcp|stcmo|og|cdcoocctosot|tomthc||ogo|st|cU o|ttothw|||hop|cæ|y
modd|c |mponaotd|st|oct|oos. Nom|thstaod|ogdcbatcsabootcottcspoodcocc
thcot|cso|ttoth(|otcxamp|c, kossc||,Aost|o, aodSttawsoo) aodthccmp|t|m
statmo|Hcts(x|cot|hctm||smvctsmm|a|coostmct|v|sm),|t|sappatcotthatthc
vm|oosx|coococompæaw|dcvm|ctyo|f, whosccp|stcmo|og|mstatmaod
||ogo|st|cU vaq,pthapsbcst|||osttatcd bythch|stoqo|Hct(Poovcy l 998).
(Fotm|ooo|tmth,wchap.3,o. l 3) .
7 Thcptca|||ogpmjccto|mcot|cth ccotoqcx|stcot|a|phcoomcoo|og|stsdct|bd
howaothcot|c|tydcmaodcd a ocw||-coox|oosoc . Thcdt|vctowatdobjcct|vc
cootcmp|at|oo, |og|m aodys|s, sc|cot|hcc|æ|hmt|oopotat|vc|ycouhomaosod
mm|ot|maqw|ththcwot|d.Thcd|wct|ooo|thcwot|dy|c|dsak|odo|koow|-
cdg, wh|ch most st||| b|otcgtatcd m�aningOy. Thcx|cot|hcobjmt maytc|dc
w m|og|ywpætc"ootthcæ"~botthc|æoc|sto|otgtcthatobjccttohomao
¬pt|coo,mt|oodand cmot|ooa|.Thcscatchmtth|scommoogtoood|sthcc|o-
s|vcqothc|so|ootvcqw|vc|oawot|dcctmotcobjm|hcdfm m.Motcm||y
ds|omcooc|os|oo,whctcHæt|'sps|t|oo|s¬p|otcd(Hæq l 989).
8 Io cootmtto |atctsc|cot|hctcpns tcstt|ctcd tops|t|v|stdcsct|pt|ooso|obsct-
wt|oos, Gothc's Thmr of Colr, Farmkhr (Gocthc l 8l 0l l 988)comb|ocsh|s
v|~o|thch|stoqo|thcptob|cmaod|tsHhod|og,acthct|o,psycho|og|m
pmpt|oo,cp|stcmo|o@,aodmathcmat|o(F|okl 99l ).Thosth|swotkæpmou
aho||st|cooat|ooo|co|ot,mctg|ogwat|atctbcmmcd|dctcothc|dso||ovcs-
t|gt|oo w|th m acsthct|c apptcc|at|oo thatGocthc|onht|ghdyoscd tomakch|s
x|cot|hcjodgmcotsaodhc|ph|mdct|vch|sthcoq.
Gocthc was hcav||y | ohococcd by Kaot, whosc Critiqu� of )udgm�nt
( l
7
90l l 987),hc "tctotom toag|oaodag|o" (Gothc l 8 l 7al l 988,29). Kthct
thd|v|dctcæooæ |ttcdccmab|yscpatatc,Gocthctgtdcdthcmæcmaoat|og
hom thcmcmt,sothatptqaodsc|cocc"bothatcsobjccttothcsamcHc-
o|qo|jodgmcot" (|dcm). Hcc|osc|y|o||owcd Kot'sowo|cad,whov|ccdac-
thct|cjodgmcotæoo||kcc|thctx|cot|hcotpæ|mjodgmcot,|othat|tmoct|oos
cot|æ|ysobjmt|vc|y,that|s,so|c|y|otc|cæocctothckoow|ogsobjmt.Kotavo|dcd
m||ps|sm,bm, accotd|ogtoh|m,th|sjodgmcotcommaodsæotthtoogh thc
ommoo gmood o|commooa|otshatcdsobjmt|v|q(aod thctcby mcd|atc mmc
dgo|shæoodcntaod|og). Gothc tc|tcmtcd th|s ps|t|oo |o maoy|otmsæ
|twncdæago|dc|ot h|stcscatch(sccchap. l [Gothc l
7
90l l 989, l 794l l 988,
l 8l 7bl l 989|). Thooghh|smcthosatcoowsospt,adoptph||omph|mapptc-
c|at|oo tcsts oo oodctstaod|og thc coosttoct|v|stchatactcto|h|s sc|cocc. Th|s
v|cwoo|dg|optom|ococcmctthcpob||mt|ooo|Koho'sStr ofSmtf
Rluton ( l 962).Sochaptct3|otad|x|ooo|Koho'swotk.
9
I|mcoatotdwot|d |sw|c , thco ptcomab|y thcapptoach to|ustodyshoo|d
a|so b oo|hcd~both cp|stcmo|og|m||yaod mctaphy|m|y. Pano|thccottcot
NoTES To PP. 6q-7q
æscssmcoto|thcpos|t|v|stagcoda coocctos thcgtow|ogop|o|oothatthcvat|o
os
sc|cot|hcapptoachcs app||cdby thcd|dctcotspcc|cso|sc|cot|hc|oqo|q
atc
oot
cæ||y||okcdtocachothcttoodctacohctcotaodscam|css|yoo|hcd"p|ctotc"o|thc
wot|d (Dopté l 993, Ga||soo aodStomp l 996,Schadoct2002). Th|s|ssoc|sa|so
coos|dctcd|othccooc|os|oo.
l 0 Thcph||osoph|ca| ||tctatotcoothc dcho|t|oo o|va|oc |scxtcos|vcaodcoo
tcstc
d
(c.g. , ßtaodt l 979, Sad|ct l 997, Stcmpscy l 999, Potoam l 985, Saytc-McCotd
l 988,K||too2003).Va|ocscomc|otop|ayatbththc|cc|oIsc|cot|hckoow|cdgc,
that|s, |oæ|ogwhatcoost|totcsax|cot|hccxp|aoat|ooaodx|cot|hcHct,aodat
thc|cc|oIsc|cot|hcapp||mt|oo.I m||ow Potoam'ssommat|oo.
[ I | Iva|ocssccm a b|tsospcct Itomaoattow|ysc|cot|hc po|ot o|v|cw,
thcyhavc, at thcvcq|cast, a |otoI"compao|oos |o thcgo||t". j ost|h-
cat|oo,cohctcocc, s|mp||c|ty, tc|ctcocc, tmth,aodsooo,a| | cxh|b|tthc
smt ptob|cmsthatgocssaodk|odocss do, hom aocp|stcmo|og|ca|
po|oto|v|cw. Nooc oIthcm |s tcdoc|b|c to phys|caI oot|oos, oooc o|
thcm|sgovctocdbysyotact|ca||ypm|scto|cs.kathctthaog|vcopa||o|
thcm. . . aodtathctthaodowhatwcatcdo|og,wh|ch|stotcjcctmme
thcoocswh|chdoootht|ow|thaoattow|osttomcota||stcooccpt|oo
o|tat|ooa||tywh|ch |tsc|||acksa|| |otc||cctoaIj ost|hcat|oo~wc shoo|d
tccogo|uthatal va|ocs,|oc|od|ogthccogo|t|vcoocs,dct|vcthc|taothot-
|qItomoot|dcao|homao doot|sh|ogaodoot|dmo|tcæo.Thccmo
|dcæatc |otctcooocctcd. oot|magco|ao |dm thcotct|ca| |otc|||gcocc |s
s|mp|ypatto|oot |dca|o|tota| homao doot|sh|og,aodmakcsooscosc
wtcochcd oot o|thctota| |dca|, æ P|atoaod At|stot|csaw. ( l 990, l 4l ,
cmphæ|s| oot|g|oa|)
I I Fotthc|og|cd pos|t|v|sts,whodom|oatcdph||osophyo|sc|cocchom thc l 930s
thtoogh thc l 950s, ph||osophybccamca btaoch oIthcotct|ca| sc|cocc |tsc||by
dcmatcat|ogd|scovcq Itomvct|hcat|oo. Accotd|og|y, sc|cot|sts oscd cmp| t|ca|
mcthos|otd|xovcq,|cav|ogthcptooIvct|hmt|ootoph||omph|ca|aoa|ys|s.
kc|chcobach( l 938)agocdthat|og|cdps|t|v|sm'stæk¼ toc|at|qaodaoa|yc
sc|cot|hcc|a|msotcooccpts N tht wtrt fund in sdtnct. Thosthc aoa|yt|c ptoj-
cct tcstt|ctcd |tsc||to |aogoagc, wh||csc|cot|sts cxp|otcd thc wot|d to havc thc|t
tmthc|a|msaoa|ycd |othc|towocootcxt.Thcd|dctcoccoIthcmoptojcctswas
"as bas|caod |ttcdoc|b|cas thcd|dctcoccbcmcco |aogoagcaod thcwot|d that
|aogoagc dcsct|bcs" (komaoos l 983,4). A mnhctass|gomcot |oc|odcd aoothct
dcmatmt|oo,thato|x|coccaodpscodo-x|cocc,Iotcxmp|c,ætto|o@otphtcoo|-
o@.Thcaothot|qo|x|cocc,otmotcpatt|co|at|y,thcaothot|tyo|acctta|ok|od
oIkow|mgccmp|oy|ogstt|ctct|tct|aæoot||ocdabvc,¼ to|dcot|qptctcodcts
whosooghttoappodsc|cot|hcaothot|tytothc|towoagoda.
l 2 Thotcao's spcc|mco co||cct|og aod c|ass|q|og assotcd|y qoa||hcd as sc|cot|hc.
I odccd, as hc matotcd, h|s ptojccts bcmmc motc amb|t|oosaodcomptchcos|vc.
Fotcxamp|c,Thotcaocatcm||ystod|cd thcd|spcts|oo oIsccds |oao attcmptto
show that thc gcoctat|oo o|p|aotswas dcpcodcot oo sccds a|ooc, aod th
at th
c
vat|cqo|mcchao|smsava||ab|cIotptopagat|ootcqo|tcdsctopo|oos¬m|oat|oo
o|
p|mt pattctos,wcathctcood|t|oos,topgmph|ca|oppnoo|t|c,mdptcot
|a|ao|
·
NoTES TO PP.
77
-8| t
}7
ma|aod|oscctcatt|cts.Thcscwctcjosta|c o|thc|actotshccoos|dctcd(Thotcao
l 993).Awcoodcxamp|c, thc"Ka|codat¯ptojcct,cp|tom|tcdThotcao`s|otma||ud
attcmpttodocomcotvat|cgtcdoatotcaoddctccttgo|at|tyam|dstoatota|chaogc.
Hcsooghttopatscthcscasoosbyco|||ogh|sjootoa| toctcatcasct|cso|mooth|y
chatts. Io thcscchanshc ||stcdvat|oosoatota| phcoomcoa|oa|ch-haodco|omo
aodstmogthcyma|oogthctop.Thcphcoomcoahcttackm|oc|odcdthchc|ght
oIthcCoocotd k|vct, ta|o pattctos, ta|obowappataocc, tcmptatotc, |cahogo|
ttccs,aodsooo.Somco|sochootckccp|ogmadc|tsway |otoh|spob||shcdwt|t-
|og,|ot|ostaoo|o Wa/, Thotcao||ststhcdatcthcpod¼ |tccdItom|cc|ot
thcycan l 845, l 846, l 847, l 85 l , l 852, l 853,aod l 854 ( l 97l , 303). Howcvct,
oomattcthowwc||mot|vatcdsochtccotdkccp|ogm|ghthavcbco,Thotcaoh|m-
sc|Ithooghtth|schtoo|c|cptovcd tobcaocot|a||ymt||ccodcavotthat,dcsp|tc
h|smostcatocstcdotts,æma|ocdpan|a|aod|ocomp|ctc.Thccoostaoqotg|at-
|tyhcsooghtcoo|dootbdcmoostmtcd,bottoay,Thotcao`sm|sg|v|ogoom|th-
staod|og,c||mato|og|stsatchod|ogthcdatao|cxttaotd|oaqva|oc(M|||ct-kosh|og
aodPt|mack2008).Thotcao`sstod|cswctcthotoogh,aodhcdtch|scooc|os|oos
xmpo|oos|ytomotthcmcthoo|og|caI staodatdso|thcday. ßcyoodthc|ovcoI
hc|dstody,Thotcaoæp|tcdtomak|ogoovc|d|scovct|caodsodctcdd|sapp|ot-
mcotwhcohcb|cd(Taobt200l , l 43~5).
l3 I hod Ptotot`s|astphtasc, "Thctca| |sootthctat|ooa|" ( l 99 l , l 35), |ott|go|og
æap|ayodHcgc|`s|dca||sm. Io Hcgc|`sPtcHcc toPhilsoph ofRight (l 82l ) hc
Hoos|ywt|tcs, "Wat |stca||stat|ood,aodwhat |stat|ooa| |stca|" (ttaos|atcd
byS.W. Dydc l 896, http.llw.man|sts.otgtc|ctcocclatch|vclhcgc|l|odcx.htm.
Ncctttaos|at|oostcodctthcGctmaoæ"Wat|stat|ooa| |sactoa|,aodwhat|s
actoa||stat|ooa|" (Hcgc| l 82l bl l 952, l 0, l 82l dl 99 l , 20). Thccd|totso|cach
tms|at|ooodctmocxp|aoat|oos. F|tst,æT.M. Knoxwt|tc.
NotcHcg||sootæy|ogthatwhatcx|stsot|s"tca|"|stat|ooa|.ßy"acto-
d|q" . . . hcmcaosthcsyothcs|so|cscoccaodcx|stcocc. I|wcæyo|a
statcsmao whoaccomp||shcsooth|ogthathc |s oot a "tca|¯statcsmao,
thcowcmmoby"m"whatHgc|ca||s"actoa|. "Thcstatcsmaocx|stsæ
amao|oomcc, bot hc|ackthccsscoocoost|tot|vco|whatstatcsmao-
sh|pooght to bc, saycdcct|vcocss. . . . Hcgc|`s ph||osophyæ awho|c
m|gtbtcgcdæaoattcmpttojost|qthc|dcot|hmt|ooo|tat|ooa||ty
w|thactoa||qaodv|ccvcm.(Hcgc| l 82l bl l 952,302,o.27)
Sccood,æM|coW.Wo ootcs,
Io h|s|atctcxpos|t|ooso|th|s Hmoos(ot|oHmoos)say|og, Hcgc| |sat
pa|osto po|otoot that |tdos oot mcao thatcvcqth|og|sas |tooght
to bc, ot(motc pan|co|at|y) that thccx|st|ogpo||t|ca| otdct |sa|ways
mt|ood. . . . Fathom hd|ow|og thcstatosqoo, Hcgc|`s|otmo|at|ooso|
thctat|ooa||tyo|thcactoa| |o h|s |cctotcso|l 8l 7-l 820cmphæ|tc thc
dyoam|caodptogtcss|vcæpcto|thctmoowh|ch |satwotkactoa||t|og
|tsc|I|o thcwot|d. "What |sactoa| bccomcs tat|ooa|, aod thc tat|ooa|
bcomcsactoa|. "(Hcgc| l 82l cl l 99l , 389-90,o.22)
Moæt s|mp|yao|od|ctmcotag|ost|dca||smotmmck|odo|so|dmctaphy-
|o,Fmtot`sstatcmcot,"Thctm|sootthcmt|ooa|,¯h|gh||ghtshowsame� |tw|I|s
NoTES TO PP. 8|-86
oottat|ooa||omod|st|octways. F|tst,thccmphæ|so|sc|coccæaocmp|t|ca|sto
dy
o|oatotc¼ ao|mpnaotd|st|oct|oomadc|ocat|y mocto|ty tod|st|ogo|shsc|-
coommthctat|ooa||smo|xho|æt|c|sm. Thcsccoodway,aodthcoocIw|sh to
cmphæ|u,|showsc|cocc|soot"tat|ooa|"|ohomao tctms, that|s, mcao|ogm|.|a
th|sw|dctcootcxt,tob tat|ooa| |stocoo|otmtoa thcoqo|mcao|ogotoodct-
stmd|og,ooc|mbocdw|thw|oosæompt|oos,wh|chthcmw|vcsatcva|oc
·
|adca.
Tomogo|ux|coccæw||-coox|oos|yobjcct|vcaodocotta||stoænthcdc||bct-
atccottcct|vctosobt|cyct|ottactab|chommb|æ|oa||o|thc|tmm||ctat|oas.
cta,:~J
Thc cmcg|ogd|sc|p||oco|"cmot|ooa| |otc|||gcocc" (LI) cxam|ocs howcmot|oas
atcæ|m||atcd |o thooght (Matthcs, Z|doct,aod kobctts2002,x). Mthoogh
c|osc|ytc|atcd to "soc|a| psycho|o@," scgtcgat|ogth|s |æoc æa |otma| d|sc|p||ac
oo|ydatctothccat|y l 990s,whcobthppo|mmdxho|at|y|otctctchaooc|cd
whathad h|thcno bccoan |mp||c|toodcntmd|og|otoaocxho|at|ycooscosos.
thcttad|t|ooa| potat|vc aotagoo|sm bcmcco thcHco|t|cso|"tcasoo" aod "cmo-
t|oo"tcqo|tcaocsynthc|so|oodctstmd|ogthc|t|ot|matctc|at|oosh|p.Dcsp|tc
thc |oog ph||osoph|ca| ttad|t|oo that woo|dscpatatc thcm, cv|dcocc |octcas|og|y
socsts that cmot|oos aod tat|ooa| th|ok|ogatc c|osc|y |otctm|ocd (dc Soosa
l 987,Damæ|o l 994,Paokscpp l 998,ßat-OomdPmkct2000, NæbaomZ00I ,
Matthcs, Zc|doct,and komns2002). L|kcothct|otmso||otc|||gcocc, soch¢
mathcmat|m,mos|ca|, spat|a|, aoa|yt|m|, aodso|onh (Gmoct l 993),cmot|oaæ
|ntc|||gcoccodcts |oto|t|oosthatpan|c|patc,aod |occna|o |ostaoccsdom|oatc,
vm|oosdoma|oso|homanact|oo(c.g. ,m|a||otcmct|oos).Ioagocm|wow,cmo-
t|oosdt|vc|od|v|doa|mot|vat|oosaodp|aym|mpmotm|c|oadjod|mt|ogjodg
-
mcotso|vat|oosk|ods. Fotcxamp|c,ph||omphcnhavc|oogpodctcdthcchatactct
o|intton æthcptoppo|d|tot|ogthooghtto ach|c|og|tscods. Iotcot|oo|s
|op "mt|ooa|,"|otcxamp|c,Howsha||Imostcdmt|vc|yaddtcsmyhoogct!6ot
|t|smotc. Toaddtcsssochaqocst|ootcqo|tcsa m|xtotco|tat|ooa|sttatc@aad
cmot|ooa| Åmcot. Fot|ostaocc, wh||c I m|ght gtab myco||cagoc's|ooch, my
dcs|tc|otco||cg|a||tyaodoccd|otapptova| m|t|gtcmy|mmcd|atc|mpo|sc.Thc
ab|||qtomcd|atcooc's |otctcoom |othcm|a|wot|dtqo|tcam|a|wos|b|||ty.
mawoc o|howwcÅ ptcc|vcdbyothcn,thccdcct|vc|otcmct|oosthata||ow
mtopmsocom||yto mh|| ootga|s,aodthcomæqo|tcmcots(c.g* •
mot|vat|oo,cooccotmt|oo, ||m|tso|sat|sHct|oo,w||-coohdcocc,ctc.,)thatatcthc
mmstoach|c|ogthowcod. P|a|o|y,thcmt|ooa|aodthccmot|ooa| æpctscaa-
ootb t|g|d|yd|v|dm.
2 Pao|Thagtdhæpmvot|vc|yshownthcto|co|ps|t|vcaodocgt|vccmot|oos|a
]mcWatsoo'saotob|ogmph|ca|accoooto|thcd|scovcqo|thcstmctotco|DNA
(Watsoo, l 968,Thag 2002).Thctc,Watmo doomcou howhc|c|tatvat|oas
p|ots|oh|sMch,bth|otctmso|thccogo|t|vcpto(happy,d|æpp
|otcd.
tc||cvcd,aogq,ctc.)aod |oh|s|ntctact|oosw|th h|scompt|ton(L|oos Pao||ag.
kosa||odFtaok||o,aod Maot|oW||k|os). Most o|thccmot|oo|sdcct|b|o
thc
cootcxto|d|xovcq,mmthccho|cco|thctop|ctothccophot|c |os|ght. Itsccm
s
c|mthatthcctmt|vcpM dt~oommyab|||t|cs,botthcdt|vcmdcom
pt|t|vc·
NoTES TO PP. 8�
1 t}}
ocsso|thcscsc|cot|sts |sstt|k|og. Howcvct,wh||cthc|tpsycho|og|cd statccom-
maodsb|ogtaph|m|otctct,thcmotcptc |ogcha||cogc|stobcttctoodctstaodthc
cogo|t|vcto|csochcmot|oosp|ay|ox|cot|hcctmt|v|q(Hokwy2002).
3
Sccchap. 2, o.9.
4
Uobckoowost to Koho, thc ot|g|oa| vcts|oo oIh|s cssay, Strctur� ofSri�ntic
Rlutn (l 962),w wc||mc|vcdby|md|ngps|t|v|stCap,who had shown
s|gos oIsh|h|ogsympathct|ca||ytowatdscctta|nc|cmcntso|Qo|oc`sdcætat|og
ct|t|qocoIpos|t|v|sm`sccotta| tcocts (Ft|cdman l 999). Othctshavcatgocdthat
KohnaodCatoaphavcstmogph||omph|mamn|t|cs(In|kandGmobtg l 995)
aodadæ|pt|ntc||mtoaIpnpct|vc(GaI|mn l
}
90).
5
MyHvot|tccxmp|co|"ptopt|vc b||odoc " |sLoatdod V|oc|`saoatom|caI
dtaw|og,whcæthcmox|candskc|ctooatcmct|co|om|yaootatc,botthcv|sccm,
dct|bdbyGaIcoaodacccptcdbypæ-Hæqaoatom|sts,w tcptooccdbythc
an|stæhcw taoght.Å ¬h|b|t|onoIthcwtksmadca|æt|og|mptc |oooo
myoodctstaod|ngoIth|spt|oc|p|c(Lonatdo l
}
87).No~oodkossc|I Haosoo
madcs|m||atagomcotsabootthcoq-|adcnobscnat|oosatabootthcsamct|mc
æ Kohn,aoddcp|tcthc|mpnaoccaod|ndococcoIh|swotk,hcd|dootdtaw
cooc|os|oosthatwoo|d tad|cm|y chaogcthcd|tcct|onoIsc|cocc stod|c(Haoson
l 958).Notc,whcæQo|octcjmtmthcthæqlobwnat|ood|st|oct|ooIothogu-
mtmos,Hanmobaw h|s pomcntonthc natotcoIpqton.
6 "Stmng"coosttoct|v|sts(æaItmdymcnt|oocdwcæd|sowocdby Koho) "adoptcd
aæ|at|v|stcp|stcmo|og|caIps|t|oo,wh|chcmphæ|æthcondct-dctctm|oat|ooo|
m|ot|oostox|cot|hcptob|cmsaoddc<mphæ|usotaItogcthctdcn|c thc|mpt-
taocco|thccmp|t|caIwot|dæaoostmotonthcdcc|opmcoto|x|cot|hckoow|-
mg. . . . [FonhctaIIoosttoct|v|stspocthat] thcactoa|ogo|t|vcootcoto|thc
oatota|x|coccm oo|yb ondctstoæm ootcomco|so|aI ptÜ saodæ
|odococcdbym|aIvat|ab|c"(C|cl 992,35, M aImAhmotc l 989mtaæc).
Thcps|t|oo|swc||cxp|a|ocdbyLodan,whoagocthatthccootcod|ogcp|stcm|c
(æopposcdtoooto|og|ca|) pos|t|oos,cach b|stoaowctwhysc|coccwotksso
wc||.Thctca||stH||stoWtthcqoct|oo(hcmootcxp|a|otowhatappmx|ma-
t|oothæt|cÅ tmcootacoontmtthcd|w|at|oobtwootmtho|thæt|caod
thc|tcp|stcm|csocoss,otIackthctcoh,aodthcæ|at|v|stdos ootccogtaotthc
|cg|t|maqo|thcqoct|oo. Lodaosouthattm||stsshoo|dIomoocp|stcm|c
amys|so|thcmcthoso|thæqtct|og,mdthatthctcIat|v|stmmtgmpp|cw|th
thcobv|oossocoo|x|cocctobttctootm| aodpæd|ctoatoæt othctsys-
tcmso|b||c|ot¬p|omt|oo( l 984b).
7
Koho`sStr ofSrmtfc Rluton ( l 962, l 970), |sgcncm||ytgdcdæao
|mpdmtwotk, hav|og"aph||osophct`sscosco|soc|o|o@, a h|stot|ao`sscosco|
ph||omphy,aodam|o|og|st`swowo|h|stoq" (Fo||ct200l , 32),bot|tmta|ycd
an |otc||cctoa| æa||gnmcot that hæst||| not Ioood |ts tcst|ogp|acc (Hoyo|ogco-
Hococ l 993, Ho~|ch l 993,Matcom 2005b, Dav|dsoo2006). Itaccomp||shcd
thattækbmKoho"shamcdpst-watph||omphcno|x|coo|otodm||ogw|th
ral srmc�. tathctt tt|v|aI|ogmsottogtc|otmx|cocc"(G|ctc l 997,497,
cmphæ|s|oot|g|oa|).
8
Lodw|gW|ttgcostc|o |otkæ thcshadowhgotc |o thch|stoqo||og|ca| pos|t|v-
|sm. Hcargocd thatoo|ypan|co|atk|odso|cmp|t|mqoct|ooswctc mcao|ogm|
zOO NoTES TO PP. }z¸¡
aodqoa||hcdaswattaot|ogctrain aoswcts. H|s |astwt|t|ogsatc t|hw|th
skcp
t|-
c|smaodgoatdcdstatcmcotsabotsc|cot|hckoow|cdgc,thcstaod|ogo|
bc||c|s,
th
c
|od|v|doa|statoso|cctta|oty, thc|og|ca|bæ|so|cmp|t|ca|ptops|t|oos,aodso
oa
(W|ngcostc|o l 969, cspcc|d|y 24-3 l ). Iodccd,whco hcwtotc, "Thcd|mco|ty
|s
totcd|uthcgtoood|cssocsso|ootb||c|og"(24c), hctc|tctatcd thcoocctt
a|aq
o|ccocmp|t|m|c|a|ms,aodthctcbystmdd|cdthchoc||octhatwpatatcso||ps|sm
mdpob||cd|scootw. "I actw|thcomp|ctc cctta|oty. ßot th|s cctta|oty|smyowa¯
(25c). (No woodct |atct tad|ca| soc|a| coosttoct|v|sts woo|d co||sth|m|ot thc| t
ownmow[c.g. , ß|ot l
}
83| . )
Io Trat Lgco-Philsophic ( l 92l l l 96l ),W|ngcostc|optcotcda"p
|c-
totc"thcoqo||aogoagcthata||owcd|otthc|g|t|maqo|ccmnptops|t|oosbæd
oo thc|t|act|c|ty, aod |ot thc tcst~th|cs, mctaphys|cs, acsthct|o~hc
adv|scd
that wc most tcma|o "s||cot. " Ltct, |o Philsophical lnvtstgaton ( l 953l l 968),
W|ttgcostc|od|m|owcd |aogoagc towncæa"tcptcotat|oo"o|thcwot|d,aad
thos hcd|spc||cdaoy oot|oo that |aogoagcscncs æ a d|tcctcottcspoodcoccto
tca||q.Logoagc(co|oc|dcotw|ththcm|od) coo|d oot m|ttot oatotc. Fotthct, hc
d|scoootcd oot ab|||tyto d|sccto any|otmd|aogoagc to|c |ot oatota| |aogoagcs,
bccaosc oatota| |aogoagcs do oot takc |otm aodogoos to |otmd |angoagc. Fot
W|ttgcostc|o, act|oosot bchav|otdchocd |aogoagc aod |ts "|og|m" bas|s |othc
otd|oaqscowo|da||ycommoo|mt|oo.Thtooghooth|swt|t|og,hcdtcd|st|ac-
t|oosbmccoHcuædct|vcd|tomobjcct|vcmcthmæoppwtoothctk|odsof
¬pt|coLmot|ooa|,soptoatota|,cth|ca|~|owh|chpmod(mdthosoovct|-
hab|c) bc||c|coo|cnatad|ca||yd|dctcotstatmtootta|oq. Andbm|aogoagc
aod thooghtwctc |oscpatab|c|otW|ttgcostc|o,mocho|"thooght" woo|d tcma|a
|oatt|co|atc,mtthct, thcstatoso|pt|vatcthoogt¼ h|gh|yptob|cmat|c.
Wh||csomcwoo|datgocthatW|ttgcostc|o tgtdcd ph||omphyæ H|||ogto
hod so|ot|oosto ttad|t|ooa| mctaphys|cd ptob|cmsbcmosc thcptob|cmswctc
pt|y|otmcd, |t |smotc |o kccp|ogw|thh|sthooghtthathctgtdcdsoch|æocs
æ "oooscosc,"bywh|chhcmcaot oot tca||mb|c |o my |og|m wow. Hc d|d oot
dcoythc|t ptcwoccæhomao chd|cogc, bot hctcjcctcdphilsophical m|ot|oosto
sochqocst|oos. Accotd|og|y, thcoattat|vcwovco atoood thcc|æ|cph||osoph|ca|
|ssocsth|o, acsthct|cjodgmcot, ptsood |dcot|q,andsooo~mcs|mp|ym|s-
oocc|vcd ||wccxptmmck|odo|lgcal |otmo|at|oo. Io thccod, W|ttgcostc|a
sooght tocomptchcod thc |ock aod cha|os |o wh|ch |angoagc cosoatcs homao
d|dogocmdthcptob|cmswcpsc|otoocaoothctæptoocuo|þapp||mt|oo
o||og|c.
}
Qo|oc'sdoctt|oc that "oatota| sc|cocc |scmp|t|ca||y oodctdctctm|ocd" (
Qo|oc
l 975,3l 3) mmota|osthat"cco||wcdonot tcjmtanyobwnt|on wotcoccthat
wctakctohavcbcovct|hcd,aodcco||wcdonot d|owmychmgtothcthæq.
st|||,||thctc|sat|cætoocthcoqthathæag|vcoscto|obwnat|oodonµococcs,
thcothctcw|||a|waysb motcthao ooc [thæq| " (Potom |onhom|og,cm
ph
a-
s|s |o ot|g|oa|). Th|s unintion dctnt mmt bd|st|og|shcd|tomthc
Quint-Duhn thni wh|chcxpaodsDohcm'sagmcotthata"cmc|d"¬pt|mcot
coo|doccttcmtcathæqbccaoscadjostmcotscoo|ddwysbmadctgtd|ogthc
backgtooodæsompt|oostocxcoscthc|a||otco|ancxpt|mcot.Thcthcs|sat|scs
|tom thc dcpcodcoccthcot|cs havc oo obscnat|oos, othctthcot|cs, otaox|||aq
NOTES TO PP. }
7
¸8 101
hypthcscs.TotcstthcoqA,thcoqßmostbcoscd,aodthccxpcctcdobscnat|oo
|sthcoaptoocto|Aaodßtogcthct. I|thcobscnat|oocood|ctsw|ththccxpcta-
t|oo,thcothcmowmaybcthat thcoqA|s|a|sc,otß|sH|sc. S|occ thchod|og|s
dcpodcotooAaodß,thcoo|ycooc|os|oothatmobdtawo|sthatAaod ßatc
oot bthttoc togcthct. Wh||c thcQo|oc-Dohcm thcs|s |sw|dc|y hc|d, thcoodct-
dctctm|oat|oo dott|oc t|sksbc|ogc|thct tt|v|a|otooptovab|c,æ Qo|och|msc|I
adm|ttcd(ßco-Mcoahcm2006,2468).
Thcindminnc oftanlton bo||dsd|tcct|yhom"|osctotab|||tyhomtcI-
ctcocc,"æQo|ocma|ota|ocdthatthatthctc|sooIotmo|a,oodctctm|oatcmctho,
oo spcc|hcd ptoccdotc (d|ct|ooaq) to ttaos|atc Itom ooc |aogoagc toaoothct.
I ostcadoIsomck|odo|systcmat|mt|ooo|ttaos|at|oo, Qo|ocwassat|shcdw|th
pqat|ccommoo|mt|ooach|ccdw|thootto|c.Th|s¼ hatd|yaoovc||os|ght,
|ooocwow,æthcð oIt¬tttaos|at|ootct|hcs.ßothcwcotmnhctthaos|mp|c
adcqoacyotvctac|tytoptoposcthat p|aos|b|cttaos|at|oos mayactoa||ycood|ct
whcotcIcæocmtosomcmcta|aogoagc,aodth|sp|oth|gh||ghtsh|sv|csoo|ao-
g motcgcocta||y( l 969c).
l0 Qo|oc`sa||os|ooto"Ncotath`sbat"|sdccptthaothcs|mp|cmoIaoa||goq.I o
l 93 l Ncotathhada|tmdyptccotcd,|othccoot¬toIh|sUo|hcdSc|coccptojcct,
thcho||smthatQo|ocwoo|dot|||u,aod|othcpM,Ncotathd|staoccdh|mw|I
ImmCatoapaodothctV|cooaC|tc|cph||osophcts |oways ootm||yapptcc|atcd
oot|| Qo|oc tcstatcd thatps|t|oo. "Thc stodyo||aogoagccao pctIcct|ywc|| bc
comb|ocdw|th thcstodyoIphys|ca| ptoccsscs, |ot ooca|waysstays |o thcsamc
hc|d.Iostay|ogw|th|othcc|oscdatcao||aogoagcoocmocxptcssccqth|og.Thm
stltn mt a" always compa"J to stltnmt, ccna|o|yootw|thsomc'tca||ty,` oot
w|th'th|og,`æthcV|cooaC|tc|ca thooghtoptooow" (Ncotath l 93l bl l 983,
53).ThosNcomthhada|tcadyatt|vcdataho||st|cv|c|otwc||b|otc Qo|oc,
botthcm|||mp||mt|ooshadootbcodmwo.
It|sa|wayssc|coccæasystcmo|statcmcotswh|ch |sat|æoc.Stltnmt
a" rmp"J With Stl tnmt, ootw|th"¬pt|coccs,""thcwot|d,"otaoy-
th|ogc|sc. A|| thcsc mcao|og|cssdop||cat|oos bc|oog toa motc ot|css
tchocd mctaphys|csaodatc, Iot that tcasoo, tobc tcjcctcd. Lach oc
statcmcot|scompatcdw|ththctota||tyo|cx|st|ogstatcmcotsptc|oos|y
cotd|oatm.Toæythatastatcmcot|scottcct,thctc|otc,mcaosthat|tmo
b|ocoqtatcd |oth|stota||ty.Whatmoootb|ocotptatcd |stcjcctcd
æ |ocottcct. Thcdtctoat|vcto tcjcct|oo [|s tomod|qthc systcm|. . . .
Thcdcho|t|ooo|"cottcct"aod"|ocottcct" ptoposcd hctcdcpansItom
thatcostomaqamoogthc"V|cooaC|tc|c,"wh|chappca|sto"mcao|og"
aod"vct|hmt|oo."Ioootptccotat|oowccoohocoom|vcsa|wystothc
sphctcoI||ogo|st|c thooght. (Ncotath l 93l al l 959, 29l , cmphas|s |o
ot|g|oa|)
l l Th|s|ssoc, thctca||smlant|tca||sm |mbtog||o, hæ bccodcbatcds|occthcb|nhoI
ph||osophy, aodtcma|osat ao "|mpassc" (Lp||o 2000, 3
}
3). Iobatcstoot||oc,
tca||sm |s"commooscos|ca|" (M|||ct2002, l 3), aoda|thoogh |tcomcs|oscvcta|
vat|ct|cs (Ho~|ch 2004b), |ts bæ|c tcocts ma|ota|o that IactsoIthcwot|d cx|st,
aodthowHctsdoootowcthc|t¬|stcocctoootab|||qtoapptcc|atcthcm,otcvco
thcpss|b|| |tyoIkoow|ogthcm. Fo||ow|ogPotoam, ph||osophcts motc btoad|y
)2 NoTE TO r. }8
tc|ct to th|s bc||c|Å "mctaphys|cd tca||sm. ""Sc|cot|hctca||sm"dtaws |tom that
tcno|taodtc|ctstoaptcc|w ps|t|oo cooccto|oghowax|cot|hcthcoq|stobc
oodctstoaodwhatx|cot|hcact|v|qaccomp||shcs.As|mp||hcddcho|t|oo
st
atc
s
thatthcp|ctotcsc|coccodcno|thcwot|dcorpont totca||tyaod|sthctc|
otcttoc
andH|thm|,mthatthccot|t|cpsto|atcd"aUy nit N tsmb�d. P|a|o|y,sdmtic
"a/im ho|dsthat
socccsm|sc|cot|hctcscatch |skoow|cdgco||atgc|ythæq-|odcpodcot
phcoomcoaaodthatsoch koow|cdgc |spæ|b|c(|odccdactoa|)cvco|o
thowc |nwh|chthcæ|caotphcoomcoaa oot,|naoyooo-qoct|oo-
b@|ogscosc,obwnab|c. . . . [S| objccttoa tccogn|t|on thatsc|cot|hc
mcthosatcH|||b|caodthatmostsc|cot|hckoow|cdgc |sapptox|matc,
wca jost|hcd |oacccpt|ogthcmostwcotchod|ogo|x|cot|sts"atHcc
va|oc." (ßyd 2002)
In |tss|mp|ctmtm,tmthmttm|stsottcpodstoahoman-|odcpodcottca||ty.
Fonhct, tca||sts æscn that sc|cocc ptov|dcs ao |octcæ|ng|ysocccssm|,cvct motc
aoomtc,asymptot|m|yttoc,tcptccotat|ooo|natoæ.Thqb||ccthataoo|vctsæ
objmt|v|q|satta|oab|caodptov|dcsaocdmt|vcmmostod|scovcttmthsaboot thc
wot|d. In shon, thc tm||stma|ota|os that "x|cocca|mstog|vc os, |o |ts thcot|cs,
a ||tcta||y ttocstoqo|whatthcwot|d |s ||kc, aodaoptaocco|ax|cot|hcthcoq
|nvo|vcsthcbc||c|that|t|stmc"(vaoFrao l 980,8). Mthooghx|cocc|sa|ways
chaog|og,andbthf aodthæt|ca coostant|yb|ogmo|hmot d|smtdcd,
thcæptcotat|ooo|tm|qataoyg|vcn momcot|spmomab|yac|owtaodmotc
tcæooab|c apptox|mat|ooo|somc o|t|matcstatcthan ptcv|oossc|cot|hcthcot|cs
odctcd. So, wh||csc|cocc cojoys oo tcst|og p|acc, ttoth dtawscvctc|osct towatds
dchn|ogtm|tymotc dmt|y aodcomp|ctc|y.
Inootmttothctm||st,amoæskcpt|m"aot|m||st"hcdghctb. Dcp|tc
thcæn|ooso|thcommoowos|mps|t|ono|thc tm|st, pmmoodph||osoph|ca|
oooodmmsoooto|ogthcæ|at|oo o|m|odw|th thcmatct|a|wt|da mm thc
ant|tm||stcha||cog. Wh||c thctm|stma|ota|osthatthcwot|d¬|su|odcpodcot
o|homan m|od, thcaot|m||stðM thatsochc|a|msa mm|og|c bu thc
wot|dc k /own onl µo|t|vc|y(thmog m|od mnct|oos).Ootmanocto|pt-
o|v|ogthcwot|daodact|og|o|tdcpodoothcpan|cobdct(v b|o|@)o|
thc homanm|od,an that thc wot|d ¬|stsmtm(|.c. ,c bkoown)ædchocdby
thowHco|t|co|koow|og.Am|og|y,thcp|ctoæodctmbyx|cooataoymomcot
|nh|stoq|saptoocto|thcm|odan natoæ,moæ,thcm|nddonotmaooHcto¤
thcwot|d, bot mthct "thc m|odaodthcwot|djo|ot|ymakcopthcm|odaod thc
wt|d"(Potoml 98l , x). Iodm,m||q|m|||soo|ywhathu ç|t|ookoow.
otm|ghtkoow,aodth|sa||owthcoostmct|v|stwmgtobmkthcps|t|v|st|dm|
o|
objmt|v|qmdthcotmpod|ogtm||qmdct|b. Notchowct,matthcag
-
mcot|snotovct"a/t, mta|mosta||aethatc|mtmosost,botmthctoo
hw
wc
koowaodwhcthctthcmoco|koow|ogdctctm|ocwhati.
Aot|tm|sm,||kctm|sm,|sootas|ng|cph||osophy,bot mthctmptotcavat|-
cqo|ct|t|qocs oppos|og thc dostcto|op|o|ons that compt|sc tca||sm. Aschc-
mat|capptoachwoo|dd|v|dc thcmanctæ|o||ows.ooto|og|m|y,ant|tca||smdocs
notd|spotcthccx|stcocco|th|og. S|mp|y,ant|tca||stss an |ttcdomab|ccoo-
d|ct bmcco thcaotooomyo|Hcts (that f cx|st |odcpodcoto|os) aod
th
c|t
NOTE TO P. }8 10
3
accc |b|||ty (thc pæ|b|||tyoIootg|o|ogkoow|cdgcoIthcm) (Ho~|ch2004a).
Lp|stcmo|og|ca||y, thcsc|cot|hcaot|tca||stÅM that thcpatad|gmoIknowkdgt
|sooobsmtd Hcts,wh|chatcdcpodcotoohomancogo|t|oo.Soch Iacts mayb
tcIotmo|atcdaodoscdæthætct|ca|tctms,botooccaoancmpt|smadctocxtcod
sochkoow|cdgc|otoad|st|oct tmmoIooobwnab|c Hcts, |osoptab|cobstac|cs
at|w,"Iothowcoædwcccttogo|usochHcu,otccommochæcomptchcod
thcm³" (Ho~|ch 200a, 35). Ioothctwotds,"thætct|mHm"atcthowthatatc
psto|atcdbotootobwncd.
ThcdcgtccoIcp|stcmo|og|magtccmcotbcmcco |od|v|doa| koowcts most
bcvcq h|gh (bcmosc oIadapt|vc cvo|ot|oo, thccommoom|tyoI|angoagc, aod
thcovc~hc|m|ogc|dcoooIpmct|o),mdbæoothcpqmat|ctco|tsoIthc
|abotatoq (|. c. ,thcab|||ty to man|po|atc oatotc), |t|sc|catthattca||ty|sthctc
tob koowo, bot thc|ssoc|shaa. Ptcsomab|yct|t|mj odgmcot|s tcmpctcdby
homaocxpt|coobomp|og|otooatotcandaoommoat|og|m|Itomowtm||t|c.
"I th|ok |t's|mpnaotIot ptagmat|ststoæythatthcIactthctcatco'taoyabso-
|otcsoIthck|odP|atoaod Ktaodonhooxthc|smhavcdtcamtdoso'tmcan
thatcvcqv|c|sægo æcvcqothct. Itdoso'tmcao thatcvcqth|og|soow
atb|ttµ,otamanctoIthcw|||topwct,otmmcth|og||kcmat.That,I th|okhæ
tobsa|dovctaodovctag|o"(kp2002,375).Oocm|ghtthco"acoptthcwc||
cstab||shcdthcot|csoIx|cocc(ccoabotthcooobwnab|c)æ(ptobab|y)ttoc,bot
thatth|sshoo|dootboodcntoæaopt|ogthc'mctaphy|mtm||st'(Potoam's
tctm)v|cthatthcstatcmcouwh|donst|totcthowthæt|ccottcpodtotm|-
|q"(ßoyd2002).
Accotd|og|y,ttoth|sdct|vcdmmthcbtapp||mt|oooIootcogo|t|vcmoc-
t|oos.Thcconctt wcæ|go tothowtmthstatcmcouompt|wthccoosttoct|v|st
doma|o, Iotthcstaod|ogoItth (hoa|, coot|ogcot,dcdat|oo|st,whatcvct)coo-
st|totc thcoog|ogpmct|cc(otptob|cm)oIx|coo(M b|ow).Tak|og Potoam
ætcptcotat|vcoIth|sptgmat|cstmcc,thccot|tccotctpt|w|sdcpodcotooao
cp|stcm|coot|oooIttoth. H|spmcotho|dsthatthctm|st,|ostat|ogthctmth
cood|t|oosIotwotcocc(x|cot|hcptops|t|ons,thæt|c),æyooth|ogabotknow
ing whcthct thowcood|t|oosatcæt|shcdbmccothcbtcoohtmcdthæt|c
mayst||| bc Ia|sc. ThoshcatgcsthatTmth |s"somcsonoI[|dca||ud| tat|ooa|
acccptab|||q"(Potoam l º8 l , 4º)otcot|a||yaocp|stcm|coot|oo.
Lvcotm||stsagtothatx|cot|hcthæt|cmooo|yapptoachm||dct|pt|oosoI
tm||q,occtm||ymptotc|t,andthcothqmoststmcw|ththcoot|oooIapptox-
|matctmth(a|mca||cdvct|s|m|||todc).Howcct,tm|smmoootodctaoycohctcot
wowoIathæq'sapptox|matctmth. Fotcp|c,athæqmaybapptox|matc|y
tmc,botst||| |oaootatc|othowmmwhctc|tmnbtctcd.Aodcoovcm|y,ovct
thccoomoIh|stoq,wchavcw|tocscdthæt|c(c.g., N~oo|aoopt|o) thathavc
bosocccæm|, bot thatwcoowkoowtobmodcow|ydawcd. Thos Potoam
aod ||kc-m|odcd ct|t|os|dcstcpttoth |oanyhoa| scoscaodatgoca moch motc
moctps|t|oo,oamc|ythatx|cot|hcthæt|t|oga|mstoævcthcphcoomcoa.Thc
ct|tct|aatcptagmat|c.a|| thatmobc|a|mcd |swhatwc m|ghtobscnc,aodthos
aptagmat|cpos|t|oobcg|osbygtaot|ogthatsc|cocchæ|odccdach|ccdsocccss,
whcthctæbyptcd|ct|vcotmao|po|at|vccootto|oIoatotc,otbythcptcc|s|oo
mdpan|mooyoIthcdct|pt|oosoIoatota|phcoomcoa.
NoTES TO P. }8
A d|tcct cxam|oat|ooo|thcoty tcst|og a||ows compatat|vcj odgmcots
ab
o
ot
thctc||ab|||tyo|vat|oos mcthods o||oqo|qaodoIvat|oos thcot|cs,aodthos
aa
cp|stcm|caoa|ys|so|thc mcthodso|thcoq tcst|og|s tcqo|tcd, |oothctwot
ds,
ao aoa|ys|s oIhowthcw|ooow|ogptoccssopctatcs (Lodao l 984b). Th
cct|t|m
|
tctt|ct|oos|mpscdoooa|vctm||sm|mvccctta|omocstph||osoph|ca|coost
n|a
ts
oocxpcctat|oosoIsc|cocc. Mov|ogItoma thcoq`saccoootab|||tyot
ptox|m|q
to tmth tothc|abotatoqoIcxpt|mcot,pmgmat|smago m|c(Hack
og l 98J
,
l 984).Atthc|cvc| oIcxpct|mcota| ptact|cc, sc|cot|hc tca||sm |sooavo|
dab|c,
|ot
thctctm|sm|sootabotthæt|caodttoth,s|occthc¬pt|mcotctoccd
oo|y
bc
a
tm|stabotthccot|t|csowæto|s.
Th|sv|cdtawsoovat|oosoodcntaod|ogoIttoth,wh|chfla|oogacoot|a-
oombcmccorbwt thcot|csoIttothaodetonr ooc(Lyoch200l , 4-5). Thc
mtmctæomcthat tmth |sao |mpnaotpmp" that tcqo|mmmc ¬p|aoat|oa.
Thowwhocmbtaccthctobostagcodaatccoocctomw|ththcstaod|ogo|tmth¢
a mcæotc oIobjcct|v|tyaod thcmpac|ty to captotc tca||q,spc|hca||ytca||q¢
a tca||stcoostmcs |t. Io coottæt, thcdcdat|oo|st ho|d that ttoth h oocsscot|æ
ptopctty, aod|odccd, thctc |soos|og|c tobost ptopttyotoodct|y|ogoatotcto
chatactct|u|t.So, |ostcadoIwatch|ogIotsochaptoptq,ca||m"tmth,"thcdcda-
t|oo|stwoo|d atgoc that ttothshoo|dbc tcgatdcd æ m|h|||ogaocp|stcmo|og|m|
moct|oo (Ho~|ch2004a, Lyoch l 998, l l 2-l 3,Amoot-Gatbaodß| 2005).
Lvcooppocotso|m|smacoptthc"ccn|hmmo|uoIx|cocc,"aodwhcthct
tm||stotaot|m||st,mchmost"acccptthcmo|tsoIx|cot|hc|ovct|gt|oosæ'tmc,'
oopatw|thmotchomc|ytmths. . . . aodclth|sacccptaoooIx|cot|hctmthsthc
'cotcps|t|oo`" (F|oc l 986, l 28).Thcaot|tca||stmayaddcctta|o mcthoo|og|m
stt|ctotcs aodmvcats tothccotcpos|t|oo, thosqoa||q|ogthc ttoth c|a|ms,wh||c
thcm||stw|||pma|mthatthcp|ctoæ|snahytmc,bot|omccod,mchmtsw|th
somccoohdcocc thattmth h abstappmx|mat|oo.Ago,thcd|mtcocc ||cs|o
how ttoth |sgtooodcd. Iotthctca||st, ttoth|sgtooodcd |ommco|t|matc tca||q,
wh||c thc aot|tca||stmot|oos|yc|a|msthatthc a|ms oIsc|cocc m bwc||scnc
µ
w|thootcocombct|og|t w|th ttoth ct|tct|a that moootbc mct. Io othct wotds,
|ostmoIpmm|ogathæqtobttoc,th|s"mocttm||st"woo|ds|mp|yd|sp|ay
|taodcoomctatc |tsv|nocs, wh|ch may|oc|odcthccmp|t|ca| va|ocsoIadcqoaq
,
s|mp||c|q,comptchcos|vcoc ,cohctcocc,pm|ctab|||q,aodmIonh (w Fm
o
l 980).Thmthcx|cot|st|socctcomotmw|thacomp|ctcthæqthatoodoot
bsoxpt|b|ctotmthc|a|msoIthcmndcmaodmbythcx|cot|hctm|st.
Thc tca||smlaot|tca||smdcbatc hods adhctcots a||gocd |o vat|oospctmota-
t|ooso|tmththcot|cs, botIots|mp||c|ty`ss, thcaot|tm|st w|||g|ca||ytcjcct
acottcspodcoccthcoqoIttoth. Fot |ostaocc,coos|dctPotoam,who ttaccs h|s
ps|t|ootoKt,oIwhom hcwt|tc,
Wc caov|ch|m as tcjcct|ogthc|dcaoIttothæcottcspodcocc (toa
m|od-|odcpodcottm||q)aodææy|ogthatthcoo|ymnoItmthwcc
havcao |dmo|otU Iot, |sas mbilt (byctcatotcw|th oot mt|ooa|
oatotcs) un optml coniton (ædctctm|ombyootwos|b|coatotcs).
Ttoth bccomcsa tad|ca||ycp|stcm|coot|oo"( l
}
83, 2 l 0, cmphas|s |o
ot|g|oa|).
NoTES TO PP. 98-Ioi
Potoamcoot|oocd tomod|qh|sv|cws ( I º8 I , I º83, I ºº0, I ºº4),botcsscot|a||y
amtmsootcommoop|ctotco|thcwot|daod thccvcqday|aogoagcbywh|chwc
dmw|th|tw|thootthccoocc|tso|mctaphys|mtca||sm,aodyctho|dsthatct|tct|a
o|objcct|v|tyaodttothmayst|||bcmct,ag|obycooscosos. Potoamd|scamsthc
mo ttad|t|ooa|avcoocs thatsooght toovctcomcthctcd|sm ptob|cm. Oocodcts
thc m|odacoto"mtms,"otd|tcctacccætothc th|og-|o-thcmw|vc,thosobv|-
at|ogthcptob|cmo|cottcpodcocc. Thcothctstmtc@|stopsto|atcabo||t-|o
sttoctotco|thcwot|d,ascto|csscoccs, m|ow|ogacottcspoodcoccbcmcco thc
s|gosmdthc|tobjccts.Potoamwoo|dodct|ostcad
aspc|co|ptagmat|sm. . . "|otcma|"tm|sm.atca||smwh|chtogo|æ
ad|dctcoccbmcco "p"aod "I th|ok that p," bmcco b|ogt|ght,and
mcæ|yth|ok|ogooc|st|ghtw|thoot|ot|ogthatobjmt|v|q|oc|thcttmn-
xodcomcottcpodcoccotmctccoowosm. (Potom I º8J,ZZ5-Z6)
Ot,æhcwmtcc|whctc.
Thct|mchæcomcmtamotatot|omoothck|odo|ooto|og|ca|spco|a-
t|oo thatscckstodcsct|bcthc Foto|totco|thc Uo|vctscaodtotc|| os.
what |s kca||yThctcaodwhat |s Oo|y a Homao Ptojcct|oo,aod |ota
motatot|omoothck|odo|cp|stcmo|og|ca| spco|at|oo thatsccktotc||
osthcOocMctho bywh|chd|ootbc||chmo bcappta|scd. (Potoam
l ºº0, l I 8)
Am aot|tm|sthc|sootatgo|ogag|ostthc tca||tyo|thcwot|d, |ts|s-ocss,bot
mthct|otatm|smthattc|ctstooot||m|tcdwayso|koow|ogthatwot|d,||m|tcdby
thccogo|t|vcstmctotcso|thcm|od,know|ogoodctstoæaocp|stcm|cmtcgq.
Thcm|odhæHco|t|cso|cogo|t|oo,|tHsh|oosmach|ocstocxtcodthowHco|t|c,
aod |o thcptocss, vat|oos mcthodscvo|vcto hod cohctcocc |o thosc mcthods,
w|ththcgoa|o|cstab||sh|ogptcd|ctab|||tyaodmætcqovctoatotc.Thcsocoo|
sc|cocc|sptcc|sc|y|oth|sab|||tytodctctm|ocphcoomcoaaodlotcstab||shmccha-
o|sms|otthcm,aodhoa||ytocootm| thcm.That|scooogh.
I Z S&o. l l abvc.
l J Thcptob|cmo|oatota|k|ods¼ wc||sommat|udbyW||||am|amc |o l º0Z.
[Natotc| |savastplnum |owh|chootattcot|oodtawscapt|c|oos||ocs
|o |ooomctab|cd|tcct|oos. Wc cooot aod oamcwhatcvct||csopoo thc
sp|a| ||ocwcttacc,wh||stthcothctth|ogaodthcoottaccd ||ocsatc
oc|thct oamcd oot coootcd. Thctc atc |o tca||ty |oho
j
tc|y motc th|ogs
"ooadaptcd"tocachothct|oth|swot|dthaothctcatcth|ogs"adaptcd,"
|oho|tc|ymotcth|ogw|th |ttcgo|attc|at|oosthaow|thtcgo|atæ|at|oos
bmoothcm. ßotwc|okmtthctcgo|atk|odo|th|ogcxc|os|vc|y,aod
|ogco|oos|yd|scovctaodptccnc|t|oootmcmoq. Itaccomo|atcsw|th
othcttcgo|atk|ods, oot|| thcco||cct|ooo|thcm h||sootcocyc|opd|æ.
Yct a|| thcwh||c bcmcco aodatoood thcm ||csao |oho|tcaoooymoos
chaoso|objcctsthat ooooccvctthooghto|togcthct,o|tc|at|oosthat
ocvctyctatttactcdootattcot|oo.Qamcs l º0Zl l º87,Jº4)
l 4 Ashatcdph||osophyoodct|y|ogchatactct|mt|ooso|sc|coccaod|tsbtoadctco|totm
cthoshæbco ootab|yapp||cd |othctwcot|cthccotoq, |otcxamp|c, ( l ) |og|cd
1O6 NoTES TO rr. tO1-tO7
ps|t|v|smandthcßaohaosSchoo|o|atch|tcctotcaoddc|godot|ogthc l 920saaµ
l 930s(Ga||soo l 990),aod (2) postmodcto |odctctm|oaocyto phys|oaodb|o| -
o@ (Fotman l 97l , Gt|mo l 988).Aaoothctcxamp|c, Pao| Fotmao tcgatds
th
c
cmctgcoccoIqoantom mcchan|csasa patt|co|at ptodoct o|Wc|mat Gctmaoy'
s
inula c||matc(l 97l }; atyp|ca|phys|c|stwoo|dhodsochathcs|sptcp
ostctoos.
Inadd|t|on,N~oo|anphys|ohæbcco|otctptctcdæcmcg|nghomthcd|st|ac-
t|vc p||t|ca| c||matcoIwcotccnth-ccntoqßt|t|sh p||t|ca| cohotcQacob l 976)
.
Apthaps|cæ tad|caIcxamp|ccons|dcts thcm|a|bhav|oto|aps,whct
cgcaµ
ct
d|dctcoccsccmoptat|vc.Hatawayshowcdthatgncta||y,ma|cpt|mato|og|stsM
atc |vcdom|oaoccpanctnsæpmm|ocnt,wh||cwomcn x|cnt|suobwnccoop
-
cmt|vctc|at|oosh|psæ m|ogm|a|bchav|ot(Hamway l 989a). Soch |otctptcta-
t|ooshavc,oIcootsc,tccc|vcdncgt|vcct|t|qocs (c.g. ,Adan l 993,Taobct l 995)
.
l 5 Cottcntconsttoct|v|ststod|csgo wc|| bcyood Tht Socil Contcon of Rtalit,
wt|ncnby Pctctßcgtaod ThomæLockman ( l 9½),whcæ|n thcyancmptcd to
dcc|opaqtcmat|cthæqmt thc m|o|o@oIkoow|cdgc,aod thcæby|dcot|q|ts
dccppncttat|oo|otoa||IotmsoIm|o|og|ca|ana|y. "Ka||q"and"koow|cdgc¯
H||bmccnph||omphyaodcommoowow|othcm|o|og|mcont¬t,Iothctcthc
oootn h sh|hcd Itomqoct|oosoIwhat |stca|ottmctoammoowhatl0UNÒ
ætm|otttoc, howva||dat|on |samocd,andwhyv|~oIæa||qaodknow|mgc
d|dctImmooccmtoætoaoomctothomooch|stot|ca| momcot tothcocxt.
l 6 S&n. l l abvc.
l 7 Th|sot|cntat|ooond|tmt|yæ|ngx|cot|hcpmct|o|snot|dcnt|hcdw|th"cxtct-
na||sm,"mtthcx|cnt|st|sacknow|cdgcdæopmt|ogw|th|namcthoo|og|ca|tm-
d|t|on that |ncotpotatcs thcotct|ca| sk|||sthat "tcptcscntasctoIvcstcd |otctcsts
within thcx|cnt|hcommon|ty"(Shap|n l 982).kv|ccdbyGo|ng,P|och,aad
Schadct( l 989),Go||osk|( l 990), P|ckct|og( l 992),aod]æodcta|. , ( l 995),thc
c|aæ|cwotk|nm|stgtd, Gmi and Dttlpmmt ofa Smtfc Faa, byLodw|g
F|cck ( l 935l l 979), |sackoow|cdgcd æ ascm|na| |osp|tat|onoIKohn'sSmcmrc
( l 962, l 970). F|mk'swotk|sa oos|dctcd tobthcmoodat|ooa| opos Iotcot-
æntm|o|og|m|dct|pt|oos ooccto|ogthcmanoHctotcoIak|odoI |okow|-
cdgcstmog|ydcpodcotopothcpmct|cccmp|oycd|n|umak|og.
l 8 Thcsccmp|t|ca|ot|cotat|oospattakc|nptagmat|sm'sd|st|oct|vc |ntctpætat|ooo|
unttlnting aoda"naton. A kbcn ßtandom dcxt|bcs, c|ghtonth-ccotoq
cn||ghtcomcottmowoo|dcxp|a|naphcoomcoooby.
show|ogwhywhatmhyhappocdh tohappnthatway,whywhat|s
m|s(at|mtcood|t|ooa||y) ntr. ßycootmtIotthcncptagma-
t|stco||ghtcnmcnt,|t|spæ|b|cto¬p|a|nwhatæma|os,and|sacknow|-
mgcdæ,contngmt . . . . It|sootj mtthatwcmootbsotcthatwchavc
got thcpt|nc|p|cs t|ght. Fot thccottcctpt|oc|p|csand|aws maythcm-
w|vcschangc.Thcpmgmat|sucodomakindoIontlcal faUbilm ot
mutlbilim . . . ø Thcmoægocta| ph||osoph|ca| |cnsthcptagmat|sts
dtcItom sc|cocc Iotan oodctstand|ogoIthc natotcoItmon and |ts
ccotm|to|c|nhoman ||Icaccotd|ng|ymoghttocomptchcod|ntc||cctoa|
oodctstaod|ogæ an æpcctoIcdcct|vcagcoq, tos|toatc know|ng that
(mmcc|a|m|s tmc) |n thc|atgthc|doIknow|oghow (todommcm|ng.
ThcsonoIcxp||c|ttcæn that mn bcco|hcd |npt|oc|p|csappsæ
NoTEs To PP. 1 1 2-117
jostooc, ohcod|spcoæb|c,cxptc |ooo|thcsono||mp||c|t|otc|||gcocc
that cao bccxh|b|tcd io ski||m| . . . ptact|cc~dcx|b|c,adaptab|chab|t
thathæcmctgcd |oapatt|co|atcov|toomcot,byw|mt|oov|aa|cato|og
ptoæ.(ßtaodom2004,2-3,cmphæ|s|oot|g|oa|)
207
ßmdomadvotchctcatc||anccooabtoadoatom||st|ccp|stcmo|o@coop|cdto
¬pt|cocc.Hc|stc|ctt|ogto¬pt|cooootæmmc"|opot"tothcptoo||mo-
|og, bot tathctw|oghow ¬pt|coo |sthcptooI|mo|og, makcknow|cdgc
"anæpto|agcoq,ak|odo|do|og.Mak|og,oothod|og,|sthcgcooso|homan
|ovo|vcmcotw|ththcwot|d"(5).
Chapt4
Tocmphæ|uthatthchc|do|x|cocc stod|c |c|| |otomo gtoops, Ph|||pK|tchct
( l 998,43)apptopt|atc|yd|st|ogo|shcdoocgtoop, md|ca| ct|t|o (c.g. , Ltootaod
Wo|gat l 979, Hatd|og l 986,Woo|gt l 988a, l 988b, P|ckct|og l 995),|toma
motccooscnat|vcgtoop (c.g. , kodw|ck l 985, G|ctc l 988,Ho|| l 988,Log|oo
l 990,Ga||mo l 992,Dopté l 993,K|tchctl 993). Hcmnhctma|ota|ocdthatthc
tab|dtcbotta||tomdc|codcnoIx|coccosoa||yb|cdto d|st|ogo|sh thc|t tatgcts
aod thctcby |gootcdthcsobsmt|vccoott|bot|oosmadcbythc |attctæmb|yo|
scho|anandthc|t|c||owtmvc|cn.
2 Åobv|oosL o|cxtmp|at|oooIthcccqday|otox|cot|hc|angoagcandmoc|s
|sthcmo|mctaphot.x|cot|sumostwotkw|thm|mp||c|tvagococ |oaoy@g
|ogtowmdsthcooknown,mdthqmmtbtmwhomthc|t|angoagmdcvcqday
cxpt|cocctoatt|co|atc|||-|otmm moc|s mdopaqoc otdcto|obwnat|oos. Soch
mctaphot|c|otmo|at|oosmc¬pm|othæqcoostmct|oo (Onooy l 993,447-
560),mdthcymaybc|thctmmottctt|ct|vc.(Fot¬mp|co|thcmo|mcta-
phot|ox|cot|hcd|xoomwTaobt l 994,2005b,FoxKc||ct l 995,Codd|ogtoo
200l ) .
3 Soka| tcccot|ypob||shcdadcta||cdanootat|ooo|thcpatoyaod h|s |otc||cctoaI
tcdcct|oosoothc|oc|dcotmd|tsmcæ|og,awotkthat |oc|odcsavæt ||st|ogo|
tc|cmt||tctatotcandasp|t|tmdc|cowo|whathcm|s"moctx|cot|hctm||sm"
(Soka|2008).
4 Uo|qoc ptob|cms at|sc |o wt|t|ogthc h|stoqo|ocat-cootcmpotaq cvcots aod
h|gh||ghtthctcos|oos|ohctcot|oah|stot|ogmphythatw ksmmcd|sooccbmoo
thcct|t|caodhctobjmto||oqo|q.WhcoIpob||shcdastodyw|thScottPoo|sky
oothchtstapp||mt|ooso|mo|cco|at b|o|o@to |mmooo|o@,Wcd|scovctcd thc
d|mco|t|cs o|tcma|o|ogabovc thc |tay (Podo|s| aod Taobct l 997) . Oot Tht
Gmtration of Divmit |sthc|æto|a tt||o@oothch|stoqaoddcc|opmcoto|
|mmooo|o@'s modamcotaIthcoq.Uo||kc |tscompao|oovo|omcs (Taobctaod
Chctoyak l 99l , Taobct l 994),th|s|ætvo|omcptohtcdhom|otcn|csw|ththc
pt|oc|pa|x|cot|sts|ovo|vcd|othcc|oc|dat|ooo|mt|bymmoHctotc(an|mpt-
tmtb|o|og|m|qoct|oocoooto|oggcoctCgcmcotmdthcmcchao|smo|aot|-
byd|vcn|hmt|oo),andwcwctcmostp|mscdtorm|vcthc|ttcpct|vc|os|ghts
tohc|pdoshootthch|ddcodcta||so|thcstoq. Whcowcwotthcmaoosct|pt|o
|tspoo|t|matc|otmtothcpnoc|pa| |ovct|gton|otcommcot,wctccc|vcdsomc
oocxpcctcd tcsposcs. Ftom thoscwhowctcg|vco motcctcd|tthao hctcto|otc
zO8 NoTES TO P. t t
7
bcstowcd,wc obta|ocd dcta||cd aod thooghtm| tcp||cs. ßot Itom thcthtcca|pha
compct|tots Iot thc Nobc| Pt|tc~Sosomo Toocgawa, LtoyHood, aod Ph|||p
Ldct~wc tccc|vcd oocoosttoct|vc tcposcs,dcsp|tctcptcd|oqo|t|ccooccto-
|ngspc|hc|æocs. HoaodLdctdcc||ocdcommcot,andT ongwa,whoa|oac
won thccovctcdawatd |o l 984,to|d mc|nthc|ætoIscvcta| coovctsat|oosthat
hcwoo|dnotdc|gntod|xæ thcmanoxt|pt,mt|tw "wonh|c ,"bywh|ch
hc
¬p|a|ocdthath|stot|anscoo|dnotdc|vc|otosochmattcn.WhcnIpmtokoow
whcthctthcæwctcHctoa|cttonot|ntctptctat|oosthatm|ghtbatgocdd|dctcot|y,
hcs|mp|yb||stctcd,"Yoohavcoo|dmwhatIw th|nk|ng|"AndwhcnIækcdh|m
to bspc|hcabotwhctcwcm|ghthavcmadcm|stæ,hcabmpt|ytctm|oatc
d
mcd|xæ|oo.T oogwa,nccd|cætoæy,w d|shmcnm (|Inotcmbatm)by
ootdcsct|pt|oooIh|sto|c|othcd|scovcqoIant|by qnthc|s, anda|thoogh hc
w copmt|vcwhcnhcthooghtwcwoo|dwt|tc|nsoppnoIh|sownænd|t|ooo|
thath|stoq,hcabmpt|ychaogdpstotcwhcnhcd|scovctmwcwctcct|t|ca|o|h|s
c|a|msandthch|stoqhchadwt|ttcooIh|sownacomp||shmcnu.Mycxpt|cocc
|shatd|yon|qoc(Söctqv|st l 997andn.5bc|ow).
5 Thc¬tcot towh|ch thcso|a|sc|cot|stshoo|d pamc|nthc|abmtoq|nvcst|g-
t|oo|tsc|Ihæ,ootsoqt|s|ng|y,p|at|uthcx|coccstod|ccommon|q.Somc,||kc
ßtoooLtootaodStcvcWoo|gat( l 979), sttong|y cmbtacc thc"naïvc" obscnct
apptoach, attcmpt|ngtotcma|ndctachcdobwncts|notdctto "avo|dthcp|tb|s
oInooct|t|ca|acccptaoccoIthc"x|cot|sts'p|ntoIv|c"(Ly l 99
7
,92).Othcts
agocad|dctcotL, adm|tt|ogthc tt|a|s and tt|bo|at|onsoI"|nt|maq," bot st|||
ma|ota|o|ngthatthcymostpmct|ccthc|ttækæ|nIotmm,|ndo¬pn,obscncts
(c.g. ,Ly l 997).Mthooghsomccsposcanobjcct|vcd|stanc|ng,acont|noomo|
pmct|ocxtcndsmm|noocotobwncttocngpan|c|pant,bt¬cmp||hcdby
Gamnkc| ( l 97),whohæpmmotm"cthnomcthoo|o@."Th|s pq mk to
ctæthc||ocoIwpatat|onboo thcact|v|qand thc|ntctpætat|on. L|kcLtoot
aodWo|gat, Gamnkc| otgcsthcsoc|o|og|stto mtcm|ycxam|ncpmct|cc, to|s,
andda||yd|scoom, that|s,tom||yæ|m||atch|mw|I|ntothc|abmtoqtoobta|o
hnthaod, pt|maqdataIotaoa|ys|s,æoppsmto|ok|ogatrchpapn, |ost|-
tot|ooa|sttoootc,stat|st|ooI|atgcbhav|otpattctns,andmon. ßot|ncmbatk|og
ooa ptact|cc-ot|cotcd apptoach, Gathnkc| mond h|mw|Iona s||ppq mcthodo-
|og|ca| s|opc (ooc Woo|gat [ l 988a, l 988b] a|so s||d oo, cvcn motc tad|ca||y).
ßcyoodGamokc|'sca|| to s|mp|ccmp|t|c|smabotsc|cnt|sts'bhav|ot,hcmadc
amotcmd|ca|ptopsa| socst|ogthatcthoomcthoo|o@m|ghtb"hybt|d|ud"
w|thothctd|sc|p||ncssochæoatomsc|cncc,mthat|nstmdoItcpn|ngoocxot|c
pmct|ooIaphys|c|stotgoct|c|st,thc"ptooct"oIth|s hybt|d r woo|d|o
Hctbaoott|bot|ontothcot|g|oa|objcctoIre In othctwotd,mcso|o|o-
g|st|ocxam|o|ng|abmtoqpmct|ccwoo|d~|n th|s|ntgatmappmaµmc
oocoIthctctchpan|c|pantsandthctcbycontt|botctothchna|Wmcnt.
An|mo|cooc|os|ooH|sootoIth|spq,nmc|ymatæam|o|@m|ptoj-
mt,|tmostH||.Thccthoomcthoo|og|stbmcax|cnt|st,||kmmthmp
|og|st
g|ogoat|vc,aoda|thooghatcpn|sIotthcom|og,|t|sby|uvcqnamæ|nom
p|ctc
aod|nascowd|ston|ogtothcactoa||q.AM|chac|Lynchdct|bthc|mbm
g||o.
Thccthoomcthoo|og|stwoo|d oot"go |n" to thcd|x|p||ncstod|cd |n
otdct to "comcback" w|th acogn|t|vc mapotothcttcptcscntat|on oI
NoTES To P. u8
thcco|totc,s|occoomapwoo|dbcsomc|cot|ycomp|ctct otccovct thc
scco|cdcta||s |mp||catcd bya compctcot tcad|ogo|thc map`sscm|ot|c
Icatotcs. Shono|dc||vct|ogao cot|tccoostc||at|ooo|dcta||sthatmakc
opthcptact|ca|wotks|tc, thcoo|y oo|qoc|yadcqoatc "ocs" thatcoo|d
bcdc||vctcd to thcpto|css|ooa| soc|o|og|sts woo|d bcao apo|o@tothc
cmt,"Yoowoo|dhavchadtohavcbcothctc."( l 993,276)
zO}
Th|s|sootaoo|qocobscnat|oo.Fot|ostaocc, ßt|aoßa|gt|cwt|tc,"WcL cooso|t
sc|cot|hcttmt|scsaodan|c|cs,|abotatoqootcboks,tab|co|data,ctc.,|ootdctto
toosttoctsomcsc|cot|hcach|ccmcot, botth� i no simpk hitorcal anl t
praact" ( l 995, l 06,cmphæ|s|oot|g|oa|).
Th|stmogo|t|oota|scscvctcptob|cms|otdo|ogx|coccstod|c,mddthoogh
th|s |sootmyspcc|hc cooccto, at thcvcq|cast, accotd|og toGathokc| (l 977),
|twcmsthatthch|stot|aolm|o|og|stqu sc|cocc stod|cs scho|at hæIotIc|tcd h|s
aotooomoospto|css|ooa| pctspcct|vc |oIavoto|go|ogoat|vc. L|tt|c |mag|oat|oo
|stcqo|tcdtoapptcc|atchowsoch aptoposa|wæ tccc|vcd by oatota| sc|cot|sts|
Thccootcmpotaqsc|cocch|stot|ao'sotthcso|o|og|st'sth|tstIot|mmcts|oghct-
w|I|oto |abtatoqptact|ccæasono|pan|c|paotobscnct m|ght b oodctsto
æawatch Iotaocp|stcmo|og|cd "|mmcd|acy," |o coottast to thcthcoq-dt|vco
m|o|og|ca|aoa|ys|stowh|chhcotshc|stmct|og.Th|smcthoo|og|mdcbatchæ
asttoogappca||othcsoc|a|sc|coccs,aodtcptcscotsa|oogstto@|cbcmcco"|dcd-
|sm"md"obwnat|oo" thatd|v|dcthcwd|x|p||ocs|ommaoyway.Awcoodc|c-
mcotdmcoott|botcstothcm|o|og|sts'|cnot.g|ogboodGathokc|,mmc,||kc
Fotmm(l 997, l 98-20l ) , atgocthatcxpaodcdappta|sa|sodctamomoppnoo|q
thatshoo|dootbcsqoaodctcd.Fotmaotcgatdsao"act|v|st"att|todcæamao||csta-
t|oo o|agcoctdwosco|"tcspos|b|||q"(l 92-20l ). Ðho|ogFcyctabod (l 978),
hcM x|coccæs|mp|yto |mpnaottob|chtothcx|cot|ststhcmw|vcs,md
thosct|t|oo|sc|cocccaooots|t|osomcocotta| o|chco||oso|atobjcct|v|ty, bot
|ostmdthcymostact|vc|ycoggcthcwot|do|tcchoosc|cocc|othcmom|ccooomy
oIm. I|aoaLöy ( l 997, l 03-5) s|m||at|yp|cks opth|s thcmc|oc|t|ogSoow's
(l 959l l 964)ca|| |otac|asso||otctptctcts to mcd|atcthcgtow|oggo|Ibcmcco
tcchoosc|cocc aod thc||||tctatcpob||c,aga|o bmo|thcd|tccooscqococcsoI
ootæom|ogtcspos|b|||q.Thcptob|cm |s,o|cootsc, thatoocooscososoosoch
madjod|mt|ogto|chæbcoagtccdopobythcsc|cot|hccommoo|tyot,Iotthat
mattct, cooIcttcd by thc pob||c at|atgc. F|oa||y, Thomas Södctqv|st, |o h|sb|o-
gmph|cdstod|c,pocsthatthcct|t|cptov|dcssomcgo|daocc|ocstab||sh|ogcx|s-
tcot|a|mdmota|staodatdsIota|||c|osc|cocc(2003). H|s pos|t|oo tcptcscotsthc
hod toto. h|stot|ao æpt|cstaod mota||st, whothctcbyottct|ytc||ccs h|msc||o|
myobjmt|vcpntaymoIh|ssobjcct.
Ioadd|t|ootow|ogsc|coccæaoothctspc|csoIop|o|oo,Lodaomnhctobscnc
matthccxttaotd|oaqhctctogcoc|tyo|thcact|v|t|csaodbc||chcostomat||ytcgatdcd
æx|cot|hcso@csts thc mt|||qo|cstab||sh|ogaocp|stcm|cvcts|ooo|adcmatca-
t|ooct|tct|oo.S|occthctcappttoboocp|stcm|c |ovat|aots, oocmoootassomc
thc|t cx|stcocc, aod motcovct, cvco tosay thctc |sa booodaq ptob|cm ptcsop-
pwthccx|stcoccoIsoch |ovat|aots(Lodao l 996,22l). Lodaosommat|tcsth|s
ps|t|oo. "IÅ ootcoohdcotthatwhatwccm| 'thcsc|coccs' havcaoyspcc|a|sct
oImcthoo|og|ca|pt|oc|p|cotcp|stcm|cctcdcot|a|sthatc|cat|ywtsthcmodhom
210 NoTES TO PP. 1 191
3
0
thcsopposcd|y'ooosc|cot|hc' |otmso|cogo|t|oo.What I amcoohdcot
o||s
thc
c|a|mthatooooc,ph||osophctotm|o|og|st,hæyctsctootanyacccptab|caccooat
oIwhatcogo|t|vcotmcthoo|og|ca| |catotcsdcmatmtcthcx|coccsItomthc
oo
a-
sc|cocc"(|dcm, l 89).
7
]ohn McDowc||socc|nct|ystatcs th|s sc||-ct|t|ca|att|todc. "[A| nyth|ok|og. . . |s
ondctastand|ogob||gt|on totcdcctabotaod ct|t|c|u thcstandatdsbywh|ch,
atanyt|mc,|ttakcs|tsc|Itobcgovctnm¤ ¤ ¤ • [th|s| |s|mp||c|t|nthcvcq|dcao|
ashap|ngo|thc|ntc||cct. . . . Th|sdocs notmcan thatsochtcdcct|onmoootbc
tad|cd. Oocmnhndoocw|IcaI|cdontojctt|mnpattsoIooc's|nhct|tcdwayso|
th|nk| ng,and [thatthc]wcakncsscsthat tcdcct|on d|sc|oscs . . . can d|ctatc thc
Iotmat|onoIncwconccptsandcooccpt|ons. ßot thccsscnt|a| th|og |sthatoac
cantcdcctoo|yItom thc m|dstoIthcwayoIth|nk|ngonc|s tcdcct|ngaboot¯
(McDowc|| l 994,8 l ).
8 Mthoog soccc |nchos|ng ct|tct|a mtx|cnt|hcvct|hmt|onand ptcd|ct|oo may
dcpcnd oo mcthodo|og|ca|, cvcn tccho|cdcoos|dctat|ons, thctcatcmodamcota|
coocctnsthatcctta|nphcnomcoamayootbamcnab|ctosochx|cot|hcana|ys|s.
HctcImtc|ctt|ogtothcd|sso|at|oooIptcd|ct|onandthææt|caI va||d|ty,that|s,
thc|t|og|m|,and|nmmc|nstaoos,pmct|m| wpamt|on. In othctwm,aptcd|c-
t|on maybccottcct, bot |ts thcotct|m| bæ|smaybcH|sc. Thcscatc mattcts,aoJ
thctcmcothcts, thatph||osophctso|sc|cnccwtcst|cw|th,bcaoscthcysccksoæc
|og|ca|mcansbywh|chthæt|cmaybjodgcdtmc,mmct|gtbywh|chtoæcct-
onthcva||d|qoIx|cot|hcmctho,andmmcovcmh|ngmt|onaI|qthatcxp|a|os
thcptcd|ct|vcsocccssoIsc|cocc. A casc |npo|nt|scvo|ot|ooaqb|o|ogy, whctc
thc ptm|ct|vc mpac|t|cs oIphys|os|mp|ydo not app|y. Aa h|stot|cd d|sc|p||oc,
co|ot|onaqthæqc|a|msogcoqoothcpms|mooyandcohcænccoI|tshod|og,
thcc|oc|dat|ono|mcchan|smsthatcxp|a|n thcm, aod thc|ntcgtat|on o|d|vctsc
cboIdataondctas|og|c thæq.Thosthcct|tct|a|otjodg|ngsocoo|thc|||c
sc|cnodcmandscmphæ|sond|dctcntva|ocoIæmcot,otmoæmtma||y, thc
æ|at|onsh|poIptm|ct|ontommccocompæ|ogthcoq.
9 Onk|chmdkoq'sv|c,thcdcbatcabotæ|at|v|sm,andthcconstmct|v|smthat
sopptts |t,atc tcmnantso|cp|stcmo|og|candmctaphys|cd c|a|ms thathavcoot-
||vmthc|towm|ncæ.Hcd|spcoscdw|thanysochIotma|accoontsand¼ cootcot
to|mvcthcsc|cnt|sttopotsocoatotcptagmat|ca||y,namc|y, bythcbtmcthods
that m|ghtbc mostctcd. Thos thc ttothoIany accoontw|||s|mp|ybc thc bcst
accoontavm|ab|c, andthat tmth |sooc Iogcd |nthccmc|b|coIfed|xoom. |o
shon,tmthhænohna|stand|ng,aod|odccdmnnot(kotq l 99l b).
l0 Sc|cnt|hcttoth-wck|ogcompt|wcomp|cx, onmtma||upmcdotcthatatc b
st
chatactct|udæma|gmso|many d|dctcntk|ndoImcthos, tat|ond|t|cs, aod
thc|t|ncotpmt|on |ntoamatt|xoIb||ch that "btmthc" |n |ts cxchangc o||dcas
anddata. Sothcqocst|onat|scætowhcthctsochachatactct|mt|on~aot|thct|ca|
tothcps|t|v|sttcoctsthatodcædadvanccd|ndmtt|a|so|ct|cdgtooIccna|oty
onavæ|ab|cItomothctknow|mgbtokcn|sbnchc|a|Iotx|cnt|ststhcmw|vcsto
ondcntaod. Spcc|hca||y,whatsaIotaq bocht m|ght at|sc|I|ovcst|gton|catocd
thc |cssons oIth|s sc|I-tcdcct|vcatt|todc! Shoo|d thcybcawatc that doctt|oa|tc
dcIcnscoIsc|cot|hcmt|ona||qandobjmt|v|qtctsoncontctmgtoonds!Shoo|J
thqbtaoghtthatx|cot|hcmcthosÅcompsmoIpqat|cadjostmcotsw|th
NoTE TO PP. 13
7
-1
4
1 111
ccna|o|dm|sgo|d|ogthowaccommot|oos!Shoo|dstodcotsbadv|scdthat"sc|-
cot|hctat|ooa||ty|samyh"Qmd|oc2000,235)!
cta,:~>
Thcboodaty|ssocmaybpscdhomthcd|dctcotpnp|vcoI cnt|a||smaod
coosttoct|v|sm (G|cqn l 995). Lscot|a||sts ma|nta|n thcpss|b|||tyaod aoa|yt|c
advangoI|dcot|q|ng oo|qocaod|nwtqoa||t|csthatwtx|cncc@M hom
othctoopat|oos,w|ththc|agtpoqwoI¬p|a|n|ng|us|ngo|atach|ccmcots,
coostmct|v|stsdcnysochdcmant|onpt|oc|p|cand|nstmdagocthatx|cocc,||kc
othct|ntc||cctoa|d|sc|p||nc, |scootcxtoa||ycoot|ogotanddt|vco byptagmat|c
|ntcmtsoI|tssoppn|ogp||t|mco|totc.S|noon|vcm|dcmatmt|ooct|tct|aatc
ootd|scctoab|c,so|o|og|suoIx|cocchavcsctt|cdoocxam|o|oghow,andtowhat
cods,boodat|coIx|coccatcdmwnaoddchodcd|npm|cc. Fmmth|spnpc-
t|vc,boodat|cmo|thomacomp|¬|ntctp|ayoIm|aIcoovcnt|oos,bthw|th|n
thc "sc|cnt|hccommoo|q" (howcctdchncd) aod Itom |tssottoood|ogco|totc.
Ioadopt|ogacoosttoct|v|statt|todc,ThomæG|cqnancmpts tod|sctcd|tthtcc
csscot|aI|st pos|t|oos. ( l ) Kar| Poppct's ms|hcat|ooct|tct|a ( l 935l l 959, l 963),
wh|chgdsdcmant|oomuox|coccandooosc|cooæpoæ|yancp|stcmo
|og|ca|mattct, (2) Kohn'ssc|cnt|hc parad|gmcooccpt (l 962, l 970) that,dcsp|tc
|tsancmptto cocompæs thcbmadcstood|ncoIcooscnsos, tcma|nsa ocbo|oos
aodcootctcdcoostmct|oooIx|cnt|hcaodm|a|c|cmcnts(wchaptct2),aod(3)
what|s|ocæ|og|ygmæthc|mdchns|b|cm|a|thæqoIx|cocc,kbn
Mcnon'sootmat|vcstmctoæoIx|cnt|hcpm|cc(l 973),wh|chmostcommcota-
tontcgæpm|ogon|y"sommcthatdonottms|atc|otobhav|otpat-
tctos|nan|mmcd|atcaodd|towy"(G|cq l 995).Th|s,oIcoom,sooodsvcq
moch||kcW|ttgostc|n'sappmachto|angoaggmcs,thc|tdcho|t|oo|opmct|cc,
aodthcd|mco|q,|Ioot|mpss|b|||q,oIaoaIyt|m||ydm|phct|ogthcopmt|vcto|c
bywh|ch thcd|scootsc |sgovctncd (W|ttgcostc|n l 953l l 968,wchap. 3, o. 8).
ßcyoodth|span|co|arapp||mt|on,thccot|æd|x|p||octhatH||soodctthccottcot
mbt|coIm|o|o@oIx|cnostod|cnæ astmogph||omph|ca| tcoaoow|th
a tcad|ngoI W|ngcostc|n'sph||osophyas a "soc|aI thcoqoIkoow|cdgc" (ß|oot
l 983) , wh|chtakcsthcccotmtop|ooIcp|stcmo|o@æ cmp|t|ca| ptob|cmsIot
m|aIx|cootcch.Cos|dcnogthc(potat|vc) p|vota|m|coIW|ngostc|o,ooc
most podct thc oatoæ oIthcph||osoph|ca| bt|dgcthatappsto||nkth|s cp|s-
tcmo|o@ w|th soc|a| coosttoct|v|sm. In th|s tcgd, thcdcbatcbcmcco M|chac|
LyochaodDav|dß|ot(|n P|ckct|og l 992)|||om|natcopps|ogv|~|ots.
2 Sechap.2, o. 3.
J A|thooghkqhæbcogdcdæabtcoo|t|nh|s|ooo|æt|canacksoo|dm|-
|ud oot|oosoItmthaodobjot|v|q, I coos|dcth|sv|~oIthc|tpwcm| |ostm-
mcotaI|qcompat|b|cw|th myown. Coos|dctth|stathctc|tcomspcctcommcot.
"Thcthctot|coIx|cot|hcobjo|v|q,pmtohatdaodmotosct|om|y,hæ
|cdmtopop|c||kcß.F.Sk|nnctoothcoochd zndpp|c||kcA|thowtoothc
othct~mocqoa||yp|odcmtæ|c,bthpmocmbythcattcmpttob'sc|co-
t|hc' abotootmomaod p||t|m| ||vcs. Kct|ooagostx|cot|sm|cd toattack
on natom| x|coccæasonoIH|scg. ßot thctc|snoth|ogwtoogw|thsc|cocc,
111 NoTES TO PP. 1
5
1-1
57
thctc|s oo|ysomcth|ogwtoogw|th thcattcmpt tod|v|n|u|t. . . " (kop
l 99l
_
33-34).
4 Thctctm"b|occott|c"appatcdapptox|matc|yaccntoq@: R Mc|do|a|nN
at
rt
ganoaq5, l 899)wtotc, "I nbt|cI, thctchæat|scn asctoI|dcæwh|ch
atccv
ca
bmadctt 'mthtopcntt|c',andwh|chm|ghtH|t|yhcdcs|gnatcdbiocm
tc. " Io
l 9l 3,L.]. Hcndcmnchattcdthow||m|ts|nFimt anJ Envirnmm
t "Thcb|o
|o-
g|stm|ghtnowt|ght|ytgtd (thc on|vcnc |n|tsvcqcnoæb|ocntt|c"(3l 2).
(QootcdmmOrd Englih Diaonar, SuppL A-G, l 993,265).Th|sot|cotat|oa
Io||owsancth|cdcoonc|nthccnv|tonmcntd|stmovcmcnt,whctcthccnt|tca
®
-
mcnttctsonanot|onoInatotc's|ntt|ns|cw|oc. Lt»mKohákodcnatcptcota-
t|vcstatcmcntoIth|sot|cntat|on.
Lvcq||v|ngb|ng,|n|tssttcnoooscdontotcma|nd|vc. . . tct|hcthat
|tsown||Ic|sava|ocIot|t . . . . Thcptctcdmt|v|qg|vcnto|coIa||||Ic|s
that||Ic|savdocIot|tw|I- andæsoch,ava|oc|n|tw|I|ntcm|y,qo|tc
|ndcpodcot|yoIthccx|stcnccotoIthcW oImyothctb|ngwhatcct.
Li i god in itt/ btcawt It i go fr itt/ Wt tht i lf, tht i
valut. That |sthcp|nt.ab|occntt|ccosmos|snotawoc-ncotm|ooc.
(Kohákl 998a,299,cmphæ|s|not|g|na|)
Th|spnpct|vcat|wItomKohák'sphcnomcno|og|mph||omphy,whctchc
ma|ntmnsthatwc tcma|nw|th|namcan|ngm||yotdcæd,vdoc-|nd¬cdwot|d,aoJ,
motctothcp|nt,th|s|soots|mp|yatco|toIhommtcdmt|on,botGonst|totcd
by||Icæ soch. Kohák makcsc|cat |n manyp|accs |n h|socovtc thatootcth|ca|
æ|at|onsh|pw|thnatotc|sdctctm|ncdbyad|tcctcottcpodcnccoIootphcoom-
cno|og|cdcocoontct,notbymyothctmcd|at|ngmnct|onsochæx|cnt|hckoow|-
mg. Fot|nstaocc,hcwtotctgtd|ng"natotcæcxpt|cncc".
Hctc|ctosstæshatp|y. th|s|snotamattctoIdm||ngw|th natotc"æ
wc |ntctptct|t"|ncontmtw|thnatotc"æ|ttca||y|s." Natotcæ¬pt|-
cncc|shownatotctca||y|s. . . . That|swhy,æthcstæ|ngp|ntoIth|s
|oqo|q,wcmakcoc|thctsc|cnt|hcthcoqnotthcattoIatgomcntat|oo
botmthctadcct|pt|vcphcoomcno|o@oIthcwy homans¬pt|cocc
natotc. . . andhowthqcxpt|coccnatoæ'sd|sttmoIwh|chwcspkæ
thccco|og|cdct|s|s. (Kohák, l 998b,258)
Im|ght@Nw|thKohák'sovcta||ps|t|onmtd|dctcnttmns,botmyd|xoss|oo
|son|ypt|phcta||ycoocctomw|ththccth|optw.
5 ALocFctqhæobwncdoIthctc|at|oosh|pbccnmo|og|mx|cnoandva|ocs,
"Wcatcw|tocæ|ogthcdcc|opmcntoIthc|dmthatknow|mgoIthcMNoIthc
on|vcmotoIb|o|og|cdogn|smscndowsthowwhopm|tw|thancmtmo|
w|sdom, sopt|ottothatoImctc mona|s. ßot |t|sptobab|y|nthcÜ oImo|og
that thcIcc||ngthat thc natota| sc|cnccs w||| dc||vcttcady-madc tmch|ngapp||-
mb|ctocth|omdp||t|owmstobmostconhdcnt|yænm"(l 995, 84).
6 ThcstatosoItc|co|o@|spthapsbstptcntcdby]acqoc Mono |nChnct an
Ntctit, whctc hccxp||c|t|y|dcnt|hcsthcmoctn b|o|og|st'scmb¢mcn
t,ot
whathcca||s b|o|o@'s "cp|stcmo|og|ca|coottad|ct|on"otb|o|o@'s "onttm pmb-
|cm" ( l 97l , 2l -22). Accotd|ngto Monod, thc conttad|ct|on concctns thc ¤
o
wyoIkoow|ngthatthcx|cnt|stmmtcmp|oytostodymcog|c tmm.Thcc
NoTEs To r. t
57
zt
)
Moooca||s"objcct|v|ty"aod"tc|cooomy."Tc|cooomywæco|ocdth|ny-hvcycan
ago to ackoow|cdg cod-scck|ogmoct|oow|thootasopct|mposcd dcs|go (Taobt
l 998). Fot Mooo,tc|cooomy¼ cmp|oycd todcs|goatc that otgo|smsach|cvc
thc|tgoa|s m�chanica/l, ||kc acompotct, w|th thc gcoct|c ptogtam odct|ogthc
omd|tcct|oo.Oo|ycvo|ot|ooaqocccss|typtov|dcdthcotgn|mt|ooIotsoch
moct|oo,mtoatota|w|cct|oo¼ o|t|matc|ytcpoos|b|cIotwt|t|ogth|spmgm.
ßctchoIthcdc|gocooootat|oosoItc|co|o@, tc|cooomy¼ tc|gtcdtos|mp|y
avcst|gcoIadcsct|pt|vcb|o|o@,cvcotoa||y(aodopt|ma||y) tobc tcp|accd bya
potc|y mcchao|m| accooot. Tc|cooomy, howcct,dos ootadcqoatc|yaddtcss thc
ptob|cmoItc|æ|o@, Iotwh||c |tshovcstc|æ|o@backtomco|ot|ooµmmha-
o|sm, thcstotyo|adaptat|oodocs oot accoootIot thcdcsct|pt|vcU b|o|og|sts
makcoI "ga|-scck|og"moct|oo.Ioshon,tc|cooomy|stc|æ|o@|od|sgo|sc.
Wcthct Mooo's opco-codcd dcho|t|oooIptogtam¼ wattmtcdotoo|y
scncdæ a Iaoc|m|mctaphotwasthcsobjcctoId|spotc. Et|yct|t|o||kc L~|n
Schtö|ogct,wt|t|ogatthct|mcoIthcb|nhoIcybctoct|o(l 944l l 96
7
,22),ootcd
thcd|mco|tyoIaccooot|ogIotasc|I-wt|ttco codc, wh|ch sodctsact|t|m|shon
c|tco|t.cootto|aod thccootto||cdhavcbccocoodatcd. Ltctct|t|oatgocd that
thcqnthct|cmctgctoI|oIotmat|ooaodptogtam wotkcd to |ottodoccago thc
"atgomcotbydcs|go"(Oyama l 985), otthatthchomooco|oshadbcocdcct|vc|y
tc|oxt|b|otothcgcoc(FoxKc||ct l 992).Thcs|c|ghtoIhaod|saoomp||shcdby
makogacompotctana|ogoos toaootg|sm.AAdaoaodothcts havcobscncd,
thcmoct|ooaodgoa|soIcompotcts atccxtctoa||y ptcsct|bd, whctcæotgo|sms
goctatcthc|town bhav|ot,whathcca||s, thc"sc|I-ctcat|oooImmo|og" ( l 994).
ßototg|smsatcooab|ctobmckctmcao|og,wh|ch |s|ott|os|ctowhatwcmcta-
phot|m||ytc|cttoæaptogtam (ßco]acob,Shap|ta,aodTaobt2005). Ooth|s
v|c,pqsaod|oIotmat|oomostbd|st|ogo|shcd|nthcotgo|sm.
Dcbatccoot|oocscooccto|ogwhatk|odoIsystcm |smpab|coIgoctat|og|ts
owo ptogtam~|tsgoaIs, mcan|og,aodtask.Wat|odccd|saoatota|mach|oc!
Champ|oosoIthccybctoct|cmodc|dtcwpata||c|sw|th sc||-d|tcct|ogmach|ocs
(||kcgo|dmm|æ||cothcat-w kogbmbs gacob l 9
7
4,253]),yctthqtccogo|tcd
thatthcmctaphothad||m|ts. It¼ |chtoothctstoadd|mpnaotct|t|m|mvmu
(c.g. ,Adan l 983,28).
Kaotcxp|a|os |o thc Crtqu� ofjudg�nt ( l 790l l 98
7
) thattc|co|o@most
scncæ a r�ltiv� pt|oc|p|cbywh|ch otgao|cmcchao|smsm|ghtbccxam|ocd
aodoodctstod.8cgo|at|vcs|go|hcawotk|ogmctho,amocoIoodcntaod|og,
wh|chwc osctooodctstaod phcoomcoa. It scncsas acogo|t|vccatcgoqoIoot
owothat|scmp|oycdtootgo|uphcoomcoa,that|s,æaHco|qoIoodcntaod|og
toogn|uot
gao|cstod|cs. Io Kot'sIotmo|at|oo,tc|æ|og|ca|cxp|aoat|oosot|cot
x|cot|hc|oqo|qthatwoo|dd|xctothcmcchan|sm'swotkiog.ßot,aodth|s|sthc
ctoc|a|ptc-Da~|o|aops|t|oo,wcm|ghtocvctd|scctothco|t|matcbæ|soIdc|go.
Kotb||ccd,æhcpot|t,thatthctcocctwoo|dbaNctoowhom|ghtcxp|mo
howas|og|cb|adcoI@ gtowsothow|tapp|octmt|oo. Fotthcm,ahoa|
|otc|||gcocchadcooIcttcdotgo|mt|ooanddcs|gototgo|atcogo|cmoct|ooaod
bhav|ota|cods.
Da~|oodctcdamcchan|smthatd|sposcdw|thd|v|ocdcs|go.W|th oatota|
sc|cct|oo,a ptoccssoIvat|at|oo aodsc|cct|oocxp|a|ocdthccvo|ot|oooIspcc|cs,
21
4
NoTES TO P. 1
57
tbcìr gzrtìcuIzr znztcmìcs znd gbysìcIcgìcs. 5ìmg|y, sì ncc Ozmìn, tc|cc|egì-
æ cxgIznztìcnsæ ccnstrucd Ircm ArìstctIc tc Kznt bzvccstcnsìbIybccn gurgcd
Ircm bìcIcgy. 1bc nzturz| scIcctìcn tbccry cIcvcIutìcn, mcrc sgccìhcz||y, ìts
nm-OzmìnìznIcrmuIztìcn,bædccIzrcdznyìntcntìcnzIìntcrgrctztìcnæunncccs-
æ Icrz mcchznìstìc (whìcbwcuId ìncIudczstobætìcæuszIìty) cxgIznztìen. In
sbcn,nmOzmìnìsmbeIdstbztcurrcntccIutìcnzqtbmq,wbì|cstìIIìnccmp|ctc
zndcbzngìngìnIìghtcInwhndìn�znd ìntcrgrctztìcns,rmnzb|yzcccuntsIet
tbccurrcntccmg|cxìqzndgbyIcgnctìcbìstcqcItbccrgnìcwcrId. Ncvcrtbc|css,
uk> grbzgsbm ìt bæsuch zærdìd bìstcq ìnbìcIc@ (Mzyr l 982, l 992)
,
md mcrc gznìcuIzrIyductcìts"æmmtìcìnstzbìIìq" (bzvìngæ mznyìntcrgrcta-
tìcnsznd ìnIcrcnccs)¬cntìnuctc "tzìnt" bìc|c@. ("1cImIe@ìs Iìkcz mìstrcss
tczbìcIcgìst. bcænctIìvcwìthcuthcrbutbc`s unwìIIìngtcbcsccnwìtb bcrìn
gubIìc" [znrìbutcdtc]. b. 5.HzIdmcbyFìttcndrì@ìnMzyrl 988,63| .)
7 Wc mìgbt justzcccgt tbìs strzngc mzrrìzgc btwccn tcIcc|cgìcæ znd mccbznìstìc
mgIznztìcns, cìthcrbusc ( l ) wcænnctccmgIctcIydìvcrccthc mc, grìmarì|y
bcczuscthcIcvcIscImnctìcn zggrczcbcd byczcbzrcdìsgzrztc, znd tbcscìcncc
ìnvckcdìsæyctìnzdcguztcIydccIcgcd(1zyIcr l 970),cr(2)tc|mIcgìczIcxg|ana-
tìcns zrc ìn Ñct æuszI dcsgìtc tbcìr mturc crìcntztìcn (Wrìgbt l 973, l 976). Te
ægturcbtbtcIm|c@`sæuszIìtyzndìtsmturccrìcntztìcn,LrqWrìgbt`s"ccnsc-
gucncc-ctìcIc@"zttcmgtstcìntcgrztcgzI-sokngbbzvìcræocurrìng(zndtbus
I@ìtìmztcIcrbìc|cgìcædmrìgtìens)buæìtbæbcnæmIIycmæcìcusìntbc
gæt ( l 973, l 976). Inctbcrwcrds,gzI-dìrcctcd bhzvìcrbcmcstructurcd by,
crbttcr,bæbcmczdzgtìvcæzrcuItcItbcbìstcqcIthcsgìcscrc@nìsm¢
ìtcngsìtsvzrìcusgezIs. IntcntìcnzIìqìsthusìnccrgrztcd ìntc tbcæuscby ìts
gætcmæq.Nctcthztcntbìsvìw,tcImIc@zndccmgIctcIymohmìstìczcccunts
cIgzI-dìrcctcdbhzvìcrmzycost. butæzIrædynctcd,tcImIc@ìsbcìngu
hcrcæzdmpton cIzdzgtìvcbbzvìcr,butIìkcctbcrccIutìcnzqzcccunts,sucb
dcscrìgtìcnsde nctzdcguztcIycxgsc thc nzturccIbìc|cgìæ æusæìq ìndcgcn-
dcntcImnctìcnzIgurg(crìtìcìsmsrcìwcdby5cbÆcr[l 993,39699| .)Kcn
5cbzmcr,zItbcugbzdcgtìngz mcrcsymgzthctìcvìwtcwæds rcductìvc znzIyscs
tbzn 1zyIcr, zckncwIcdgcs tbccurrcntbcurìstìc vzIuc cItcImIcgìæ cxgIznztìens
æzggmgrìztctctbìsstzgccIbìcIc@( l 993,379).AtImæumcszsìmìIzrgsìtìen
(l 994).Y ct,tcIcc|cgìæthìnkìnghæzIscbcngrouctìvcmdnccdnctbtbeugbt
cIcxcImìvcIyæzvctìgcIzdìvrdcd gbìIcæghycIbìcIc@. Astrìkìng hìsterìcæ
c ìngìntìsthztcILIìc Mctchnìkch wbcærccIutìcnzqvìwcIthccrgnìsm
sgzwncdz bìttcr dìsgutcwìtbGcrmzn rcductìcnìsts wbczo hìm cItc|cc|egì-
æI sìn,yct hìs hcurìstìc mmwrkgrcvìdcd thc IcundztìcncItbcnwdìscìg|ìoc
cIìmmuncIc@. (5cc1zubcrzndLbcrnyak [ l 99l | Icr zn bìstcrìæ zcccunt cI
thìs mcst ìIIustrztìvc c.) In bcth 1zyIcr`s zndWrìght`s zcccunts, wbzt mzkcs
bbzvìcr tcIm|cgìæ ìstbzt tbcgro ìnguctìcnæn bsbcwn tcourb�(au�
ìtìsmuìrcdIcrtbczcbìccmcntcIthcgzIstztc(Lnncx l 992,332).E cIz
ì0
s
z bcurìstìc væuc. 1zyIcrzckcwIcdgctbcgzmdcxmdzdcgtszwætzndM
znì-
tudc,wbìIcWrìghtmIsìntcznzdzgtztìcnmoccIcxgImztìcn.
8 LccIcgìczI ctbìc buìIds,usuæIyìmgIìcìtIy,cnthcIcundztìcnscIccIutìcnzqctb-
ìc, whìcb zrgucs hcw humzn mcrzIìty zrìscs Ircm cur bìcIcgìcæ hcrìtzgc. 1bc
µmcnt ìswcIIstztcdby MìchzcI Km.
NoTES TO PP. 1
5
91
71
1bcnwscìcntìhcc|zìmszrcæsìmg|cæ tbìs. Wc ncwkncwtbztdcsgìtc
zncvc|utìcnzqgtcccs, ccntcrìngcnzstru|c Icrcxìstcncc, c@nìsms
zrc nct nccc rì|ygcrgctuzI|yzt ccnhìct . . . ìn gzrtìcu|zr, cogrztìcn
æ bzgbìc|cgìczIstrztc@ . . . . NcwIctusungzcktbcscìcncc.Wc
bìnwìtbtbcgcncræc|zìmszbutcogrztìcn,cr ætozy`scvcIutìcn-
ìsts . . . Iìkc to æI ìt, zItruìsm. . . . bctb tbc tbccqznd tbccmgìrìæ
cìdcncctbztbìcIcgìczI "zItmìsm" ìswìdcgmdmd grcmctcdbynztu-
m æIcctìcn ìsvcqsccurczndwc|I doumcntcd. 1bc sìmg|c ÑctoItbc
mzncr ìstbzt . . . onc ìs IrcgucntIybncrohìIoncdccìdcs tozcccgtz
ækcsbzrcd rztbcrtbzn gzmbIìngontbc guìbìIìqoIzwbc|cækc but
oncwbìcbmìgbtb|ostcntìrcIy. (l 993,502)
11
5
1usmcrzIìtycntbìsvìwìsIoundcdonmccIutìcnµ-dcrìvcdmgrìcncccom-
mcn to myrìzd sgccìcs znd bzrdIy unìguc to bumzns. (5cc Nìtcckì znd Nìtcckì
[l 993]mrvarìcusgrcntztìcns.)5ozItmìsm, Iìkc�Is, bmczsbæbìc|ogìæ
cbæctcrìstìcwìtbctbcrznìmzIs,mdjustæwca mcmIcrætumbuæoItbcæ
bìoIogìæcndcwmcnu,æa ourznìmzIbrctbrcn,mdìnzsbcnstcg,z Iìnkìs
ctzbIìsbcdbmccnccIutìcnmdcnvìmnmcntzIctbìc.
Anobvìcus�Is oIæ|I-dchnìtìcnguìdcs tbìsrcmzntìccntcrgrìsc tbzt ìstbcmn-
tcmgrzqcnvìrcnmcntzI mcvcmcnt. Oncnccdnct rczd nzturctogIcrìq Go,
togzybcmzgc tccrcztìcn,crtcscckztcncmcnt.1bcrcIìgìcus ìntcnt ìsdìnctcd
toonIy onccItbcdìvrdcd Lbrìstìzn mzndztc, nzmcIy, tbcævìngcItbcbumm
æuI,nctIorzbævcnIygzrzdìæ,butmrzbævcnbcrccne. AocmìngIy,ìntbc
grscIcxg|crìngcurrc|ztìcnsbìgtonzturc,wcdchncoumIvcs, ìndcm,wca
nnwcd ìntbztcnccuntcr. In æckìng mcznìng, Lbrìstìzn rwcIztìcn tbmìstrms-
Iztcd ìnto z gcrscnzI nzturzIìud rcIìgìcn, cnc bæcd on tbcæscnìcn cIour own
subjotìvìq, wbìcb zIIowz mæsoIsìgnìqìngnzturczndsgìrìtuìzìngcumIvc
(Kmbncr l 996). Fcrbzgs f tozy zrczwæoItbcìr ìndcbtcdno to1bcræu`s
1rznsccndcntz|ìsm, but tbzt ìsbzrdIy tbc mcæurcoIìtssucccssæ zn znwcr Ior
tboæmkìng mænìng ìnzwcrId ìncrcæìngIyzIìcnztcdmm bumznc wuc. And
montotbc gìnt, Amcrìæ1mnæcndcntzIìsm`szbìdìngn|ìgìcusmæbo|ds,
nmcIy, tbzt æIvztìcn rcstshrmIywìtbìncurcwn græg (crìnmuIzrtcrms, Ñtc
ìsstìII oIourcwn mzkìng). 1bìs undcntzndìng ìscIærIycxgrcsscdìntbccnvìmn-
mcnmìst mcvcmcntznd rczdì|ycxtrzgcIztcd to tbcscìcnccscItbccnvìronmcnt
ædbcnd.
Concluion
Hcrbn Mzrcm chcn zsuoìnctdcærìgtìcn cIHmrI`scrìtìcìsm rcgrdìngtbc
ytìcn cIæìcnomm ìts gbìIcægbìæ Icundztìcn (wbìcb ìnzdìhcrcntguìæ
æun±sìmì|zrtcWbìtcbæd`sownccnccmscrìgìnztìngmmzdìhcrcntgbì|cægbì-
æorìcntztìcnætcgtbcr).
1bc nwscìcnccdos nct c|ucìdztc tbcccndìtìcnsznd tbc Iìmìts cIìts
cvìdcno,væìdìq,zndmctbo,ìtdmnctc|ucìdztcìtsìnbcrcntbìstcrìczI
dcnomìnztcr. It rcmzìnsunzwarccIìtscwn Icundztìcn, znd ìt ìs tbcrc-
Ionunzb|ctcmìuìtsænìtudc . . . . Wbztbzggnsìntbcdcc|cgìng
zt6 NoTES TO r. t7
z
rcIztìen bcmccnscìcncczndthccmgìrìæI rczIìtyìsthczbregztìeneIthc
trznsccndcncc eIKczsen. Kczsen Iescs ìts ghìIeseghìczI gewcr znd ìts
scìcntìhc rìgbt te dchncznd grejcct ìdczs znd medcscIbcìngbcyend
znd zgzìnst tbesc cstzbIìsbcd by tbc grcvzìIìng rczIìty. I szy "bcyend"
tbccmgìrìczI rczIìty, nct ìn zny mctzgbysìczI but ìnz bìstcrìczI scnsc,
nzmc|y, ìn tbcænæcIgrcjcctìngcscntìzI|ydìhcrcnt,bìsterìczIzItcrnz-
tìvcs. (Mzrcuæ l 985, 23)
2 ]rgcn Hzbrmægìckcd ug HuucrI`s cbzIIcngcmddchotcd ìtìnzcrìtìcìsm that
rcscnztcs wìtb z grzgmztìc scnsìbìIìty. 5ìmg|yIcckìngztth�or, Hzbcrmzs ehcrs
z grcvotìvc suggIcmcnt tc cur ærIìcrccnsìdcrztìcncIvaIuc-hccæìcncc,
whìch
"rcmìndsustbztthcgstuIztc æìztcdwìtbìt[æìcncc| nc Icngrccrrcsg
ndte
tbccIæìczImcznìngcItbccq"(Hzbrmæ l 97l , 303). Hc bcgìnsbìscwn crìtìguc
wìtbrcdchnìngghìIeægbymmìtszncìcntcrìgìns.
1bcen|yknewIcdgtbztæn truIycrìcntzctìcn ìs knewIcdgc tbzt hccs
ìtsc|IIrem mcrc bumzn ìntcrcsts znd ìsbzscdcn IdCìnctbcrwerds,
knewIcdgctbztbætzkcnztbmrctìczI zttìtudc.
1bcwcrd"tbccq"bærcIìgìeuscrìgìns.1bcthNrs ¼ tbcrcgrcæn-
tztìvcscnt by Grcck cìtìcs tc gubIìcccIcbrztìens. 1brcugb th�or, tbzt
ìs tbrcugb Icckìngcn, bc zbzndencd bìmscIItc tbc szcrcd cvcnts. In
gbìIcseghìczI Iznguzgc, th�ora wætrznsIcrrcd tcccntcmgIztìcn cIthc
ccsmes . . . . WbcntbcgbìIcæghcrvìwstbc ìmmcrtzIcrdcr,bcænet
bcIgbrìngìngbìmæIIìntczcmrdwìtbtbcgrcgnìcnscItbcccsmcsmd
rcgroucìngtbcm ìntcrnzIIy . . . . 1brcugbtbcseuI`sIìkcnìngìtæIItctbc
crdcrcd mctìcn cItbcccsmcs, tbccqcntcntbcccnductcIIìh. In nhos
tbmqmcIdsIìIc tc ìtsIcrm md ìs rchcocd ìn tbcccnductcItbcæwhe
subjcct tbcmscIvcs tc ìtsdìscìgIìncs. 1bìsccnccgtcItbccqznd IìIc ìn
tbmqbædchncdgbìIcscgbysìnccìtsbgìnnìng.(ìdcm,30l -2)
Netctbztscìcncc bn wìtb tbìscbscnztìenzI stzncc, but ìtsgbìIcscgbìczI zntc-
ccdcntscrìgìnzIIycordìnztcdkncw|cdgcwìtbìnztbccrctìæImmctbztmmìncd
nzturcIcr trznsgsìtìen tc mzn`s mcrzI unìvcnc. Grcundm ìnthNr, crdcrthus
ìncIudcdzIIdcmzìnscIbumznkncwIcdgc,mdæìcnccchcnd ìtscwngrouctIer
tbztccnsìdcmtìen.
1cdìssccìztcvzIucshcm ÑctsmcznsccuntcrgsìngznzbstrzctOugbt
tc gurc bcìng. VzIucs zrc tbc nemìnzIìstìc by-grcducts cIz ccnturìcs-
IcngcrìtìguccItbccmgbztìcccnccgtcIbcìngtcwbìcbtbmq¼ cncc
mcIusìvc|ycrìcntcd. 1bcvcqtcrm "vzIuc" . . . tcwbìcbæìcnoìssug-
gscd tcgrcscncncutrzIìq, nncunccs tbc ccnncctìcn bmccn tbcmc
tbzt tbccqcrìgìnzIIy ìntcndcd. 1bus, zItbcugb tbc scìcnccs sbzrc tbc
ccnccgtcItbccqwìtb tbc mzjcrtrzdìtìcn cIgbìIcscgby, tbcydcstrcy
ìts cIzssìczI cIzìm. 1bcy bcrrcw twc cIcmcnts Ircm tbc gbìIcscgbìczI
bcrìtzgc. tbc mctboe|egìczI mænìngcItbctbccrctìæ zttìtudcmdtbc
bæìccnte|egìczI æsumgtìen cIzstructurccItbcwcrIdìndcgndcntcI
tbcknewcr. Ontbcctbcrbznd,bcwccr, tbqbzvczbzndcncdtbcccn-
ncctìcn cIth�ora znd kosmos, cImimni zndbio th�o"tko . . . . Whzt
wæ cnccsuggscdtcccmgrìætbc grzctìczI cmæqcItbccqbæncw
NoTES To P. t
7
z
ÑIIcn grcy tc mctbcdcIegìczI grcbìbìtìcns. Tbcccnccgtìen cItbccqæ
zgrocIcuItìvztìcucItbcgrscn bæbcccmczgcqgbzI. (Hzbrmæ
l 97l , 303~)
zt
7
Indod, Hzbcrmæ gos cn tcdìsmìss HusscrI`s gbcncmcncIcgìczI "scIutìcn" znd
ìnstædchcrszscbcmcbywbìcb,cmg|cyìngtbrccdìhcrcntmctbocIcgìcmgìr-
ìæ-mzIytìc, tbc hìstcrìczI-hcrmcncutìczI, znd tbc crìtìæ scìcnLnczbzndcns
mcmrch Icrzrcnwcdthnr æHuucrIzdvotcd,zndìnstædzdmìtstbcIìmìts
oIobjotìvìtyzndcmbmtbcccnncctìcnbcmccnkncwIcdgczndhumzn ìntcrcst
ìnmczbæncccIzn undcrIyìngcntcIc@.
Hzbrmæ` crìtìcìsm cIæìcnccmmhcm IìngcrìngmmmìtmcntscIz"gsì-
tìwstæII-undcntzndìngcItbcæìcno" zndgrcmctcs"tbc ìnsìgbttbzt tbctruth
oIstztcmcnts ìs Iìnkcd ìn tbc Izst znzIysìs tc tbc ìntcntìcn cItbcgccdznd truc
Iìh" (ìdcm, 3l 7). 1bìsgìcks ugtbcgrzgmztìstcrcdc, Icr bumzn-ccntcrcd vìsìcn
oIkcwIcdgc sguzrcIygIzccsæìcnccìn tbcscnìcccIhumzn ìntcrct,whìcb uItì-
mztcIygìnts tcsìgnìqìngtbcwcrIdæ zwcrIdcIhumzn ccnscìcusncss. 5ucb z
vìsìcnoIæìcncccbvìcmIyccIIzgmtbcrìgìddìstìnctìcncIÑctszndvzIucszndgrc-
motc ìnstædz gmnzI znd gmgmztìc undcntzndìngcIkncwIcdgc-æckìng (ì.c.,
stnggcIFIztcnìcìdczIscItmthcrzguctìntbccmgIcycImctzgbysìczIræIìsm).
5uchznmgzndcd ìntcrgrctztìcncIæìcncc,cncr@rdcdwìthìnzmIIcrbumznìs-
tìcmnstruct, wcuId tbcn bcccmc z tccI cIzIzrgcrgrcjcct. Kcsczrcb bcccmcs z
mrmoIcrcztìvcìmzgìnztìcn,æìcntìhcIìtcmqcgnsthcwcrIdtcbumzn wcndcr,
f, mntctcd zndcndIoIy rcccnhgurcd znd ìntcrgrctcd, bcccmcz currcnq cI
comgtìngccntcxts, cbjcctìvìtyzndscìcntìhccthìcbcccmcwìdcIy tzugbt sccìzI
wuc. lrcmsucbzn undcrstzndìng, tbcdynzmìc ìntcrgIzycIÑctszndvzIucscrc-
ztczkzIcìdcsccgìcræIìq,z"bcrmcncutìczIræIìsm" (Oµ l 99l ) thztdcmznds
dynzmìc ìntcrgrctztìcns. In sbcn, wìtb sucb zn undcrstzndìng, scìcncc chcrsz
morcmmgrcbcnsìvcvìwcIrmn ìn ìts mznyvcìccs, æwcII æ zbcttcr syntbc-
sìsoImgrìcnccdcrìvcd Ircmdìvcrscscuroszndgncmtìngccmgsìtc mcznìng.
1ìsìstbcwcrkcIcrcztìvcìmzgìnztìcn. Owcn bzrhcIdccncìæIyzrtìcuIztcstbìs
orìcntztìcn.
[5cìcncc| ìnsìstscndæIìngwìth "dztz", buttbcnsbzII ncdztzbgìvcn,
ævcthcbzrcgrcccgt.1cmtìsìmzgìnztìen.OnIybyìmzgìnztìcntbcrc-
mnL tbcwcrIdb kncwn. Andwbztìsnccdcdìs,nctcnIytbztIzrgr
zndIz@rtcIcccgzndmcrczndmercænsìtìvc czIìgn sbcuIdbccn-
stmctm, buttbzttbc bumzn mìnd sbcuId bcmc ìncræìngIyzwzrccI
ìucwncrcztìvczctìvìq. ( l 928l l 952l l 973,28)
J In rchrrìng tc tbc rcIìgìcus wcndcrtbzt undcrIìc scìcncc, Adzn mìgbt wcII bzvc
rcIcrrcd tc Ocsczrtcs musìngs cn tbc dccgcst sgrìngs cI ìnguìry znd tbcrcby
zckncwIcdgd thìsguìct,butgnìstcnttbcsìs. In Pas ion ofth� Soul, Ocsæncs, ìn
dmrìbìngthcbæìcgæsìcns(wcndcr, Icvc,bztrcd,dcsìrc,jey, znd ædncss) Ircm
whìchzII ctbcrcmctìcnszrcdcrìvcd, hc gIzccs "wcndcr" ìn z sgccìzI cztcgcry.
UnIìkc tbc ctbcr gæsìcns, whìcb LU cbzngc ìn thc "bczrt znd bIccd," wcndcr
ìsncutrzI, "bzvìngncìthcrgcrcìIæ ìtscbjcct,butcnIytbckncwIcdgccItbc
thìngwcwcndcrzt"( l 69l l 93l , 363).Azncmctìcn,wcndcrìscbzrzctcrìzcdæz
"suddcnsurgrìæcIthcscuIwhìcbLU ìttczggIyìtscIItcccnsìdcrwìtbzttcntìcn
2Iö
NoTE TO PP. I)2-I)
)
thcobjowhÍchãom mrcandcxtmomÍnM´ (Ídcm, J6Z). Îndccd, hcgmnounccã
wondcr æ ¯uãcmÎ, Ínæmuch æ Ít muãcã uã to Îcarn and rctaÍn Ín our mcmoq
thÍn@olwhÍchwcwcrc lormaÎÎyÍ_norant´ (J6). LemconcÎudmthat`thoµ
who haVc no naturaÎ ÍncÎÍnatÍon towrdã thÍã gæãÍon arc uãuaÎÎy VcQ Í_norant¨
(Ídcm}, aad ÎÍkc thc æcÍcnt GmkmkN hÍm, hc adVÌãæ mocratÍon to baÎzncc
wndcr`ãu and Íu gmgrcf.
4 A mocm uÍcnædccÎogd Ítã dÍãtÍnctÍVc cgÍãtcmoÎo, a nc mctaghyÍO aÎso
cmc@d. Îndwd, Ít Íã dÍãÍn@nuom to ÍnãÍãt that ãcÍcnæ hæ no mctaghyãÍO: Å z
branch olghÍÎoãoghy Ít h hrãt grÍncÍgÎcã, grmuggãÍtÍonã, whÍch dwcÎÎ Ín thc
dwgræchmolÍuconægtmãtmcmN(Ítchæd l ºZ5).>Ícnæ`ã¯Îo@æδãtruc-
m, ÍncÎudmãuch grogtã æ ( l ) mcworÎd Íã matcrÍN andomcNd, (Z)wc mÍ_ht
dÍ×m thÍã ordcr by dctachcd cmgÍrÌæ obwntÍon, ncutæ mtÍonaÎ dmcrÍgtÍon,
æd objotÍVcanaÎyÍã, (J)ÎawwÌd cmc@ mm mÍã ÍnguÍQand thQwl rcmaÍn
ÍnVÍoÎabÎc, (4) why naturc cormgndã to our humaa mathcmatÍæ and objcctÍvc
dcrÍgtÍonãNmaÍnãmytcrÍouã,butthccmgÍnæ grouOolmatmcthoh Þcn
hÍ_hÎyãuomÎ and thmaggmxÍmatma dcgÍctÍon olthc r æ tmth,ædãoon.
¯omãuN,thctohnÍægrouctolthÍãmcthooÎgæÎo@c,aadthcgwcrolÍtã
gmÍctabÍÎÍQ, gÍnu toancmætcQolnamrcs byNl.
5 ÎcnÍncnttoourdwÍonÍnchagtcrZ,Wcmr,who@nÍæoVcrthcmÎcolVaÎuc
ÍauÍcncc, ãou@taa ÍntcrmæÍatc gãÍtÍon that Ìã NÎmant to our gmntconccrnã
qn_thc mmætÍc VÍcoluÍcnæ. McgÎaæ ãtrÍct brdcn amund uÍcnæ to
gncnt ÍtmÍn_u krÍdæÎo@æÎ gug ( l ºl ºI l º40), but hca mÍzcd
that uÍcnæ, ÎÍkcanyhumæ aOÍVÍQ, w Ímbuæ wmVaÎucæd thmwÍth mæn-
Ín_. McdcaÎt wÍth thÍã gmbÎcm by hÍ@hÎÍ@tÍn_howuÍcnæ`ã Íntcdo achÍcc-
mcnt omrã grænaÎ ãatÍãÑctÍon olhumaa cathuãÍæm aad groVÍdm thc thrÍÎÎ ol
ÍnãgÍmtÍon,Ím@natÍon,andÍdæ.Å rdÍn@y,auÍcntÍãtÍãaotæÎcÎyamÎcuÎztor
oruaÍntcmtæ obwncr butcn@ Ína VÌæ, cmtÍVc actÍVÍQ. ¯o ãÍmatc uÍcncc
Ía tcrmãolÍuhumaacmnctÍon mthcrt ÍucgÍãtcmoÎo_Íæ ægÍmtÍonã ortcch-
noÎo@æ aggÎÍætÍonã, Wcmrrr to¯thcÍnwæælÍn_kruÍcnæ´, thztÍã,hc
addmthcbroadcrmæÍn_olthccntcgmkrÍugraOÍtÍoncn(Ídcm}. Mcãug-
@tæmatthcdchnæ ægoluÍcntÍhcdÍuÍgÎÍnmæmæ mtrÍctÍVc to mÍãwÍdcr
@nda, but hc mÍæd that uÍcntÍhc Ím@natÍon drc ugn thc æccmtÍvc
æumolÍntuÍtÍon that ÍnãgÍm W- ¯hm hcadcmgtcd to gÎaæVaÎucguaNÎy Ín
thcmgrÍcnæ,notÍnthcgmuctoluÍcntÍhcÍaguÍQ.Wcmrc mdÎymcaÎÌcd
a romantÍc, but hÍã ÍnãÍ@tcomgÎcmcntã thow who r@rdæ gãÍtÍVÍãt uÍcncc æ
krlcÍtÍn_cm to æomÍn_aunÍVcræÎ ghÍÎoæghy.
A ãccond ÎÍnc olcrÍtÍcÍãm olthc romætÍc VÍc, onc whÍch gutã a hoÎÍãtÍc,
cnchaatcd VÍãÍon olãcÍcncc ãguæcÎy Ínto thc gÎÍtÍæ hammork, accuãcã thc
cnchantcnolgtcntÍNÍywnÍn_dan@mmÍdæÎo.¯hæcrÍtÍæbuÍÎdonaÎÍtcm-
tuNthattmæMazÍãmtoÍummætÍc muædgÍntæÎyOthowwhowouÎd
Ímbuc uÍcnæ wÍth wucæ dÍnÍn_ wÍm mc donÍon oluÍcnæ and Íu ãuncgtÍ-
tÍomu krÍdæÎo@æ cndã. ¯¯hccnUtæVcnÍonoluÍcnæ, Îoka_lor`VaÎuc
Ía a worÎd olf' (KohÎcr l ºJ8I l º5º),ognã ug thc gÍbÍÎÍQthat æy cthÍcaÎ
ãyãtcm c m VaÎÍdatcd by hoÎÍãtÍc [cnchaatcd] ræaø ø ø • `¯hc whoÎc Íã _rcatcr
t mcãumolÍtãp' gmVÍdmmcmtmæmcmÍn_ thatc mãhagdto htan
y
moægu´ (KcndÎcr l ººº,8Jl ).Å rdÍn@Îy,ÅncManÍn_ton ( l ºº6)µ
c
NOTES TO P. t
77
zt}
that Nat|sm dtcoosc|cot|hcho||sm, wh||c GcogcMosscthtch|scxp|aoatoq
octovctaocvco w|dcrswatho|Gctmao tomaot|c|sm,wh|cho|cootsc |oc|odcd
oatotc`scochaotmcot(Mossc l º6).Howcvct.
thcbcstatgomcotag|ostthcNat|vcts|ooo|'sc|cot|hcho||sm`|sootthat
|twæbascdoovaIocs. . . botthatthcNat|swctcs|mp|yaodobjcct|vc|y
wtoog|othc|tva|ocjodgmcots(aod|othc|tsc|cot|hcjodgmcotsæwc||).
Thctc|s oowattaotwhatsovct|otdcp|ct|og]csæao "|oIct|otÎ.
Th|s|sobjmt|vc|ywtoog,sc|cot|hcd|yan mom|y.(ßt|okmaooZ005)
ßt|okmæo|sago|ogmtthcPotoambva|occo||apwthc|s(Potml º8Z,Z00Z),
mtæ¬tcodcdh|stot|m|c|abmt|oooIth|sv|co|Nat|x|coo,M Pmtotl º88.
6 It |spcthapsoscm| to ootcthatThotcaojo|ocdagcoctaI cp|stcmo|og|cd sh|h |o
thcco|totaI mcao|ogo|v|s|oo. Io thcahctmath o|Kot,thc ttaospatcocyoIthc
sobjmt-æ-obscnct¼ gcocm|yapptcc|atcdæ"c|oodcd"æ "thc x|coccoIv|s|oo
¼ |octcæ|og|y||okcd to oc|os|ghts|ophys|o|o@aodpsycho|o@tathctthao
. . . qocst|oosaboot thcmcchao|oo|||ghtaodopt|caI tmosm|æ|oo" (P|ck l ºº7,
l 88). A a tcso|t, cat||ct modc|so|oo|hcd v|s|oo wctctcp|accdbyattcmpts to
oodcntaod howthchagmcotat|oooIscosoqaodpsycho|og|ca|¬pt|cocc m|ght
bcohctcd, aod motcdccp|y, how objcct|v|q m|ght batta|ocd. L|okcdto thcw
qocst|oos wctc sc|cot|hcaod att|st|ccxp|otat|ooso|thccomp|cx tc|at|oosh|ps
boptccpt|oo,coosc|oosoc ,aodmcmoqmthatbythc l 850s.
ashatp|ydchocdaodsccotc|ydcsct|bab|cv|soa| hc|dwæg|v|ogwayto
a motc amb|gooos|ooctspacc, thccoohdcocc |o "c|mtso|og"d|æo|v-
|og|othcHcco|atcoccdptocopat|oow|thhowwcM objcctsaod
howwchavc"|os|ght." It¼ wc|| ootcdbya oombtoIcommcooton
thatwcwoo|dsoæ|yv|cthcwot|daodootowom|odsd|dctcody|Iwc
oo|doo|ycpcoovcot|ooa|cocs.Thcot|stscxp|otcdwhathæs|occ
bccomcao oocxccpt|ooa| ttoth. thatcxpcctat|oo aod ptcccdcotwc|gh
opoootm|ods,|o|otm|ogaod|odccdmak|ogpæ|b|cootgmpoIthc
v|soa|wot|d.(P|ck, l º0)
ThosThotcao¼ |o goocompaoyw|th Gothc, Ft|cdt|chSchc|||og,]ohaooc
MöI|ct,HctmaoHc|mho|o,]. M.W.Totoct,aod]oho8osk|o|oootoo|yb|og
w||-coox|ooso|thcwot|d`sptccotat|oo|oth|s||ght,bota|sob|ogw|I-coosc|oos
oIhowthcm|od,|o|ts |otcmct|oosw|th oatotc,ctmtcsawot|do||tsowodcs|go
ædchatactct.
7 Whcod|scoss|ogsc|coccaod acsthct|o, thc||ocd|v|d|ogpsycho|o@aodph||oso-
phytcma|oscootctcd.Thcscpatat|oo|span|co|at|yvcx|ogbcaoscthc|otctscct|oo
oIthcd|xots|vc|aogoagcatc|ocomp|ctc,ædccoatcmæpoqws.Fotcxmp|c,
how|soatota|bcaotytccogo|tcd!Gæmctt|c|otmaodothctv|soa|mctaphotsgo-
cta||ym|h||ct|tct|ao||otmthatwc"ptcc|vc"æbcaot|m|,botwhcthctthcapptcc|-
at|ooo|aphcoomcoooot|otmæbcaot|m||s|catocd(|.c.co|tota||ydct|vcd),ot|o
Hctm|h||ssomctcsooaotcogo|t|vcmoct|oo tcma|osavcx|ogqocst|oo(8cotxh|ct
cta|. l º88).Sochmattctsohcowncæthcd|scæ|ooo|thcacsthct|cd|mcos|oo|o
x|cocc.Motctothcpo|ot,dcsp|tc|tsccotta||ty,topscthcqocst|oo|othcsctctms
|sto|gootcthcmotcmodamcotdph||omph|ca|ptob|cmth|s|ssoccvokcs,oamc|y
thcmctaphys|oo|Cancs|æw|mo.
22O NoTES TO PP. 181-181
8 ícrOwcyzndFutnzm,mcræszrc"cbjcctìvc" ìnthcscnscthztccnwnsuszndccn-
sìdcrcd judgmcnt dcIìbcrztc thcbttcrchcìcccIdczIìngwìth thcwcrIdcrdrzwìng
ìnIcrcnccIrcmìt.A FIztcnìc ìdæcI"cbjcctìvc"cr"rczI"cr"truc" thcnìsrcgIzccd
wìthzgrzgmztìcæmcntzdjudìætcdbythcruIcscIhumzn hcurìshìng.Indccd,
Å AzsdzìrMzclntyrcccgcntIyccnhrms.
1c bccbjcctìvc, thcn, ìstc undcrstznd cncscIIÅ gzncIz ccmmunìty
zndcnc`swcrkÅ gzncIzgrcjcctzndgzncIz hìstcq. 1hczuthcrìtycI
thìshìstcqznd thìsgrcjcctdcrìvcsIrcm thcg s ìntcrnæ tc thcgrzc-
tìcc. ObjotìvìqìszmcmI ccnccgt bIcrc ìtìsz mcthocIcgìczI ccnccgt,
zndthczctìvìtìccInzturzIæìcncctumcuttcbzsgìccImcraIzctìv-
ìty. ( l º78,J7,mzIsc l º84,56h)
LIìæbcthAndcrscnsummzrìæzcccrdìngIy.
Owq`scthìcrcgIzccsthcgczIcIìdcntìqìngznuItìmztccndcrsugnmc
grìncìgIcthztææncÅ zcrìtcrìcncIcthìæcvæuztìcnwìththc@cI
ìdcntìqìngzmcthoIcrìmgrcvìngcurvzIucjudgmcnts.Owcyz@ucd
thztcthìczI ìnguìqìscIzgìocwìthcmgìrìczIìnguìqmcrcgncmIy. It
ìsthcmcIrchotìvcìntcIIìgnotcnmcnc`sjudgmcntsìnIìghtcIthc
ccnscgucnccscIzctìng cn thcm. VæucjudgmcntsÅ toIs IcrcnzbIìng
thcsztìsÑctcqrcdìrcctìcn cIccnductwhcn hzbìt ncIcngcrsumccs tc
dìrot ìt. AtoIs, thcyæ bcvæuztcd ìnstrumcntzIIy, ìntcrmscIthcìr
succcìngìdìngccnduct.WctctcurvzIucjudgmcntsbyguttìngthcm
ìntc grzctìcc znd sccìng whcthcr thc rcsuIts zrc sztìsIzctcq¬whcthcr
thcy scIvc thc grcbIcms thcy wcrc dcsìgncd tc scIvc, whcthcrwc hnd
thcìrccnscgucnccs zcccgtzbIc, whcthcr thcycnzbIcsuccomI rcsgnscs
tc ncvcI grcbIcms, whcthcr Iìvìngìn zcccrdzncc wìth ætcrnztìvc væuc
judgmcntsyìcIdsmcnætìsÑctcqrcuIu. WczchìcvcmcrzIgµznd
mzturìty tc thccxtcnt thzt wc zdcgt hzbìts cIrchcctìvcIy rcvìsìngcur
væucjudgmcnts ìn rcsgnæ tcthcwìdcstccnscgucncc IcrccqnccI
Iìvìngthcmcut.1hìsgQztìczggmzchrcguìmthztwcIotcthcccn-
dìtìcns cIwt IcrcurvaIucjudgmcntsìnhumznccnduct ìwII nct
ìnznyzgrìcrìhxcdnIcnnccgìntcutsìdccIccnduct,suchÅ ìnGo`s
ccmmznds,FIztcnìcícrms,gurcræn,cr"nzturc,"ccnsìdcm Å gìv-
ìng humzns z hxcd �ls. 1c dcæ rcguìm thztwc undcntznd dìhcnnt
Q
cIvzIucjudgmcnts ìn mnctìcnæ tcrms, Å IcrmscIccnductthzt
gIzydìstìnctìvcmIcìnthcIìIccIrchcctìvc,soìæbìng. Owcythcnby
cmrsz nzturzIìstìc mctzcthìccIvzIuc judgmcnts, gmundcd ìn dccIcg-
mcntzIzndæìægsychcIc@. (Z005)
9 AI hzvcgrcvìcusIycbæncd.
The epistemological and moral domains are not easily separated
becuse we integrate them as informed opinion on a complex con­
tinuum ben the serch for "what is" and our apirtions for "what
ought to b." On the si playing feld, thee to philosphical goals
meet somewhere byond their theoretical origins and thereafer c­
not b divided agn. (Taubr 1 999c, 485)
NOTE TO PP. t8q¬t8¡ zzt
l0 MyccIIczgucVìctcrKctcnbzumbæwrìttcncIqucntIycntbcgbìIcægbìczIcbzI-
IcngccImzkìngtbcmdìnzry,cxtrzcrdìnzqìnbìsstudycIOwcy,wbcæncæz
tcucbstcncIcrmycwnchcn.QuctìngLbzrIcs1cmIìnscn`spm,"OdctcArncId
5cbonbrg" ("Mcsbcd ìn mcznìngÍ bywbzt ìsnzturzI lwczrcdìæcntcntcd Í Icr
whztìsmcrc"),Kcstcnbzumcbæncs.
Wca nctmcbcdìnæìcq,bìstcq,crIznguzgcbutmthcrìnthcmcæ-
ìngtmgìbIczndìnmngbIcwbìch tbcyìnstìtutczndsustæn. lunhcr,
w zrc mcbcd ìn mæìng "bywhzt ìsnztumI. "1bcrg cI"nztum"
hcrcmcod tbcsgìhætìcns,thcmæIvc ìncxzct, cIgbìIcægbìænztu-
mìsm, ìncIudìngOwcy`s nztumìsm. ItìsnctdìmcuIt tcMy hcwwcr,
thzt cur dìsccntcnt dccs nct zrìsc Ircm tbc stztc cIbcìng "mcsbcd ìn
mcznìng"butIrcmbìng"mcsbcd ìn" ¬ ìn "bcmmcd ìn" ¬by mczn-
ìngwhìcbìsmtrìctcdtcthcnzturæ.Wca dìsccntcntcd [dcìmm| "Icr
whztìsmcrc."(Z00Z,Z4)
l l l hzvc u 1bcrczu æ z IcìIcIthìs nctìcn cImcrzI zgcncy, Icr hìs mcræ scII-
zwæncss guìdcd æIcIhìs vzrìcus grcjccts¬bìs Iìtcrzqærccr æ gætcræìst, hìs
guctsIcr rcIìgìcuszndcccncmìcìntcgrìq, æwcIIæ hìsdìvcræ nztum hìstcq,
pIìtìæI , znd zcstbctìc ìntcrcsts. Kcbcn MìIdcr, ìn wrìtìngcI Waln, ætutcIy
nctc, mztthcrca mcstcrìc,nctæwysmngmcnt,wbìcb unmIdìn1hcmu`s
wrìtìng. thc N"at�d stcqcIdìæcvcqznd rcnw (whìch wc ccmmcnIy zttcnd
tc)zndtbcmd stcqcItbcwrìtcr`schcnstczdzgthìmscIItctbcwcrId(MìIdcr
l ºº5, 5
4
55), crI wcuId æy, tccrcztcz mcrzIccsmcs. I ndccd, usìngMìIdcr`s
tmg, thcmcstcrìcsccnvcrgc ìntbcvzrìcuswzys1bcrczuzttcmgts tccrcztcz
æII-mythcIc@,cncmhìcncd mmbìsunìgucvìsìcns.
l bIìccthztthcnìsm ìdæcrr nzturc, ìnhnìtcIymcrcgrIothzn
mczctuæætbcrcìsznìdæIìIccImm.LIæwbcna tbcgIcrìcussum-
mcnwbìch ìnvìsìcnæmctìmcsvìsìtmybrzìnWcnnzturcc tcb
sugrnzturzI tc z mzn¬wbzt wìII bcdc tbcn! OIwbztwcnb ìshumzn
IìIcìIìtszctìcnszrcncIcngcrtcbzvcthìssubIìmczndunmgIcrcdæcn-
cq.WbcwìIIbuìIdzmttzgznddwcIIìnìtwìtbcnthmìæmìInctìnthc
cIyìznhcIds!(1bcrczu l º8l , 48l )
l nÑct, 1bcrczudìd "buìIdzccttzgcznddwcII ì nì t wìth cntbusìæm," by mcv-
ìngìntchìsWzIdcnæbìncn]uIy4, l 845, wbcrchcgrzctìccd hìsmcmvotìcn
ìn z IìIc cIdcIìbmtc ìntrcsgtìvc grzctìccccugIcd tcz rìgcrcuscmgìrìcìsm znd
cngzgcmcnt wìtb nzturc. And ìn tbzt cxcrcìsc, ìnstczd cIchcrìngIcrmzI ghìIc-
ægbìæIdìæcunc,bccnuncìztcdbìsdìstìnctìvcmcmgbìIcægby.
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Kernbcrg, A. l 995. Ib� GeU¬ H�lo: Iosid� 8ieucb l�otar�s. Sausæìte, Ca|ìI..
UnìvcrsìtyScìcnccbk.
Keym,A l 957.Fmmtb�Cks�dwerUtetb�Io)oit�0oiem�.ba|tìmen.Thc]ehns
HepkìnsUnìvcrsìtyFrcu.
Kragh, H. l 987. no Iotredactieo te tb�Histeriegrapby e)Sci¬c�. Cambrìdgc.
CmbrìdgcUnìvcnìtyFræs.
Krcmcr,K. L. l 990. Ib� Ibmedymmioe)Lqamfmm¬mlPþsie@1770
1880. No Yerk.Gar|andFub|ìshìng.
Krìmsky, S. 200J. So¬c�iotb�Pneat�Iot�t: Hm tb�Laæe)Pm)nOmpt�d
8iem�dicalR�anb?Lnham,Md..KewanandLìtt|chc|d.
Kuhn,T. S. l 962. Ib� St¬ctar�e)Sci¬tqcR�elatieos. Chìcage. UnìvcrsìtyeI
ChìmgeFrcss.
¯. l 970. Ib�SÞr�e)So¬n)cReelanem. 2nd cd. Chìcage. Unìvcrsìty
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~. l 99l . "ThcreadsìnccSmmæ. "PS 2.J-l J.
~. l 992."Thctmub|cwìththchìsterìca| phì|esephyeIscìcncc."Cambrìdgc,
Mæ.. DcpanmcnteIthcHìsteqeIScìcncc, Ha~ardUnìvcrsìq.
Kuk|a, A. 2000. Secial Ceost¬ctieism aodtb�Pbilesepby e)Sciroc�. Lenden.
Keut|cdgc.
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2O SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MENING
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Index
lº50s, l , J, 4, º, l4J, l º5nl l
l º60s, l 8, l 4J, l 67,
l º70s, l 8, l 00, l 04, l 4J
l º80s, l 00
l ºº0s, 8, l 8, l 00, l l l , l º7nl
[ sìz, Luìs, 6J¬4
zcthctìc (æzncIcmcntcIæìcntìhc
ìnguìq), l l , l4, J0,Jl , J5, J6,J8,47,
6J,8l -85ym im,8º, l 00, l l 0l l ,
l l 6, l Zº, l 47, l 74, l 7, l 7º, Î öÎ ,
l 85, l 87nl , l ºl n5, Z00n8, Zl º-Z0n7,
l Zl nl l
subIìmc l º0ºln4
Gotbc znd, 57-58, 84, l º5n8,
l º8-ººnJ
æzIytìcgbìIcscgby,40,7,ºZ-ºJ, l 7l ,
trrabeIcgìczIgsìtìvìsm,Quìnc,
Wìngcnstcìn
Andcrscn,LIìæbtb,ZZ0n8
zntì-æìcncc,J, l 8,trrabe5cìcnccWæ
ArìstctIc,ZZ, l º5nl0, Zl 4n6
Adzn, Hcnrì, l 04, l 58, l 5º, l 7Z, l 80,
Z06nl 4, Zl Jn6, Zl 4n7, Zl 7nJ
Audubn,]cbn]mc, l 6l
bzcbcIzrd,Gætcn, l 7Z, l 80
bzmn, lmncìs, Z4,Jº,4l , 45, 5J, 6º, 87,
l J6, l 40, l 4Z, l 7º
bzìgìc, brìzn, Z0ºn5
bznm, WìIIìm, l 6l
bzrhcId,Lcn,Zl 7nZ
bztccn,Gr@cq, l 58
bIìcI, rcIìgìcus, Z4, Z�Z8, Zº,Jl , 40,
5Z, 6º, 7Z, l J7, l 44, l 47, l 5Z, l 87nl ,
l º0nJ,trrabeæìcncczndrcIìgìcn
bIìcI,æìcntìhc,J,4,Z4, Z8, Jl , 6Z,7º,
l 0l , l 04, l 06, l l 4, l l 8, l l º, l Z4,
l J4, l 7J, l 80, l 8Z, Z0Znl l , Z0ºn6
bIìcI, unìqcIJl , Jº,4l , 4J,7l , 8J-84,
º4, º5, º7, l ZJ-Z4, l 68, l 84, l ººn6,
Z00n8,Z05nl l ,Zl 0nl0,trrabe
mbcrcncc
bcrgcr,Fctcr,Z06nl 6
bìcIc@, l 7, l º,Z6,Z7,6, 65,66,7J,
l 06, l J7, l J8, l 47¬º, l 5Z-5ºym-
tim,Z06nl4, Zl Z-l 4n6,Zl 4n7,tn
abeocIc@,mcIccuIzrbìcIc@
bIor,Ozvìd, l 0l , l l J, l l 7,Z00n8,
Zl l nl
bcbr,NìcIs, l ºJnl
"bundguctìcn"(bcrdcncIscìcncc),
5, l 0, l J, l 5,67,70,7Z, l l J, l l 7,
l J�J7, l 4º, l 5 l , l 55, l º0nJ, Z0ºn6,
Zl l nl , Zl 8n5
Z7
248 Inde
bcy|c, Kcbcn, 54, l 88nZ
bmndcm,Kcbcn,Z067n l 8
bmncwsky, ]. , 4, l J8
busb, Gcc@cW., Z5, l J4, l 5J
Lzg, Kudc|I 86,º6, ºº, l ººn4,
Z0l nl 0
cìtìunzctìvìsm,J, 6, 8, l Z,45, 7J, l J0,
l 40Z, l 45¬6
ccbcrcncc,Z,º, l l ,Z5, J0Jl , JJ, Jº,4Z,
47,56,6l , 84-86pas im, l l 4, l l 6,
l l º, l 58, l 67, l 7l , l 8Z-85pas im,
l 87nl , l º5nº, l º5nl 0,Z0J-5nl l ,
Zl 0n8,ZZlnl l ,��� abebc|ìcI unìqcI
LcIIìngod,R G. , Z8
LcI|ìns,Hzrq, l 0l , l 0Z, l l J, l l 5, l Z4,
l 46
Lcmtc,Augustc,7Z,7J, 7
Lcnznt, ]zmc, 4, l J8
ccnstructìvìsm, 5º¬0,7º,8º, ºJ, ºº,
l 00Z, l ZJ, l 8ºnZ, Zl 0nº, Zl l nl ,
soìzI l l J-l 5, l Z0, l 88nl , l º4n6,
Z06nl 5,Z06nl 7,Zl l nl , ��� abezntì-
scìcncc,dcIcndcrscIæìcncc,Kt,
scìcncc,soìc|c@chscìcnccstudìcs,
5cìcnccWzn
Lm, bcncdcttc, 57, l 7
Ozmìn,Lbzr|cs,Z8,65,6º, l 47,Zl 4n6
Ozmìnìzncvc|utìcn,ºl , ��� abencc-
Ozmìnìzncvc|utìcnzqtbccq
Oætcn, Lrrzìnc, 5J, 55, 60,67
Ozvìdscn, Ocnz|d, l l
Oczr, Fctcr, l Z4
"dchndcn"cIscìcncc, 7, l 4, l 8, º8, l 0Z,
l l l -l 5, l Z8, l Zº, l 4Z, l 4º,Z07nl ,
sa abeccnstructìvìsm,Grcss, Lvìtt,
5cìcnccWzn,5ck
Ocnnctt, Oznìc|, l 58
Ocvnc, Kcnc, l Z, J7, l 66, l 70, l 7J,
Zl 7-l 8nJ
Oc5cuæ,Kcnz|d,8J
dctcrmìnìsm,gcnctìc,J6, l JJ, l 48º,
l 5 l
Owq,]cbn,7, l J8, l 65, l 8l -8Z,
l 84-85, ZZ0n8, ZZl nº
dìsccvcq,æìcntìhc, l 5-l 6, J5, 4l , 5 l ,
56, 6l , 74, 808Z, ºJ, l 00, l 0J¬,
l l 0, l l 5, l 60, l 7Z, l 8l , l º0nJ, l º5-
º6nl l , l º8nZ,Z08n4,ZZlnl l ,��� abe
IcgìczIgsìtìvìsm,vcrìhætìcn,scìcntìhc
dìsunìtycIscìcncc, l l 0
Oubcm, Fìcrn, 7,Z00nº
Ourkbcìm,LmìI, l 0l
ccc|c@, l º, l 5Z-56pas im, l 87nl ,
Zl Zn5,��� abecnvìrcnmcntzIctbìc
Lìnstcìn,AIbn, l ºJnl
Lmcncn,KgbWzIdc,4º, l 60, l 7º
cmctìcn,J6, 5J, 60,8085pas im, l J7,
l 7Z-74, l 76, l 80Z, l º5n7, Z00n8
cmctìcnzIìntc|Iìgncc,8J4, l º7-º8nl
cnvìmnmcntzIctbìc, l º, l 5Z-56, l 5º,
Zl 5n8
cgìstcmcgmgby, l Z4-Z5
cgìstcmcIc@,7, l l -l Z, l 6, l 7,Jl , J6,
4l , 46, 5º, 68, 70, 77, 7º, ºl , ºJ,
º8-ºº, l 0l , l 05, l l 0, l l 7, l l º,
l Z4, l 58, l 65, l 75, l 8J, l 88nZ,
l º4n6, l º5n8, Z07nl 8, Z l l nl ,
Zl 8n4,��� abeccnstmctìvìsm,Owcy,
cmctìcnzIìntc||ìgno,f; Gotbc,
|cgìægsìtìvìsm,mcræcgìstcmcIc@,
ncutrz|ìq,cbjcctìvìq,cbæncr,gsìtìv-
ìsm, Quìnc, scìcno, moc|schæìcncc,
gbì|cscgbychtmth,æìcntìhcmctbo,
1bcræu,vcrìhætìcn,æìcntìhc
Ñct, l-Z,6, l 0, l 5,ZZ-Z4,Z8,J0,
J5-J7,40Jps im, 5055pas im,
58-5º, 74, l 0Z-J, l 04, l 06, l l l , l l 4,
l l 6, l l º, l Z4, l Z6, l J4-J5, l Jº, l 4l ,
l 57, l 66, l 70, l 75, l º0nZ, l ºZ-ºJnl ,
l º4n5, l º4n6, Z00n8, Z0l -Jnl l ,
Z06n l 7,��� abemvzIucdìstìnctìcn,
ncutræìq,cbjcctìvìty,gsìtìvìsm,æì-
cncc,vzIuccI
FcIznyì`svìwcI80,8Z
Quìnc`svìwcIº4,º5,º8
rcIztìcntccbænatìcn,6l ¬Z
nIztìcn tcwIuc,Z, 6, l 0l l , l 6,
407, 5Z-J, 58l , 7º, l 0J, l 05,
l 44¬5, l 5Z, l 55, l 8J, l ºl -ºZn8,
l º5nl 0, Zl 6l 7nl , Zl ºn5
nIztìcncItbccqtc,55-56,60,
867, º0, l 0º, l 57-58
I
ndex 249
1hcrczu`s vìwcI6J, l 70 77, l 80
ÑcdvzIucdìstìnctìcn,Z,6,46, 5Z, 7º,ºJ,
l ºZnº
ccIIzgæcI l 0, l4, l 7,47, l 0J, l 0º,
l 50, l 56, l 74, l 8Z,Zl ºn5
mIìbìIìty,4l , 68, l l 7~l º, ym im, l ZZ,
Z06nl 8,trruharztìcnzIìq,rcæn
Icmìnìstcrìtìguc,ºl , l 0l , l 4J, l 88nZ
lcrq,Luc, l 5J, l 55,Zl Zn5
lqcmbnd, FzuI, 5,7, l 7, l 8,78, l 05¬,
l l 8~Z0, l 45, l46, Z0ºn5
lìæh,Mcnzchcm, l l º~Z0
lIcck,Ludwìg, l ºJnZ,Z06n l 7
"IorbìddcnkncwIcdgc," l40, l 44
lormzn, Fzm, 7, Z06nl 4, Z0ºn5
louæuIt,MìchcI, l48, l 88nZ, l ºJnZ
loxKcIIcr,LvcIyn,Z4,5J, 55, l 6º,
l 88nZ, l º7nZ, Zl Jn6
GzIìIcc,GzIìIcì,Z8,6º,87
GzrhnkcI, HzrcId,Z08-ºn5
Gcrgcn,Kcnncth, 54, l º4n4
Gìcqn,1hcmæ, l J5, l J7,Zl l nl l
Gomzn, NcIæn, º8
Gothc,]chznncWcIIgngvcn,55~58,
84, 87, º0, l 6º, l º5n8, l º8~ººnJ,
Zl ºn6
Grccnb@, OznìcI, l ºl n7
Grcu, FzuI, l0Z, l l J, l l 4-l 5
Hzbrmæ,]ürgcn, l 84, l 85, l 88nZ,
Zl 6l 7nZ
Hædznc, ]. b. 5. ,Zl 4n6
Hæscn,OIzI, l ºl n6
Hznscn, NcmoKuucII, l ººn5
Hæwzy,Ocnnz, l 0l , l 0Z, l l 6, l 88nZ,
Z06nl 4
Hærìngtcn,Annc,Zl ºn5
H@cI,Gcc@WìIhcImírìcdrìch, l º0n4,
l º6º7nl J
Hcìd@ cr,Mzrtìn,J4~J5,77, l 67, l 68~
70, l 7l , l 84, l ºl n5
Hcìænb@, Wcrncr, 57, l ºZ~ºJnl
HcImhcIo,Hcrmznn,Zl ºn6
hìstcqcIscìcncc(dìscìgIìncof, 5, 8,
85, 87-88, l 00, l 0º, l l J, l l 4, l J6,
l 88nZ, l º4n5, Z07-8n4
HcItcn, GcrzId,ºl , l l J
Hod, Lrcy, Z07n4
Hcrkhcìmcr, Mæ,78
HumznGcncmcFrcjcct(HGF), l48~50
humznscìcnccs, J5,4º,6Z,67,7l -7Z,
l J7, l47¬8
humznìsm,5,8, l J, l 6, l 7, l º,Zl , J0,
J7, Jº, 67, 68, 80, l Z5, l J8, l 65, l 6º,
l 7l , l 75, l 78, Zl 7nZ,trr uha æìcno-
humznìsmzIIìzncc
humznìsu,J¬, Z5, 50,07, l J0, l 75
Humc, Ozvìd, 5Z-5J, l 4l , l 60, l ºJnJ
HmI,Ozvìd,ºl
HuwrI,Lmund,Zl , 56,77,78,80,
l 67, l 6º, l 707l , l 84, l º5n7, Zl 5nl ,
Zl 6l 7nZ
ìmmuncIe@,Z07~8n4,Zl 4n7
ìntcIIìgntdcìgn,Z5-Z6,Z8~Zº,6º, l J0,
l 65, l 8ºnl , l 8º-º0nZ,trr uhanm
Ozmìnìsm,5chënbrn,LzrdìnzI,scì-
cncczndrcIìgìcn,mmzrìsm
]zmc,WìIIìzm,Z05nl J
]cnæ,Hzns, l 55, l ºl n6
Kznt, lmmznucI,Z0 Z7, Jl , 45, 84, ºJ,
l Z6, l 58, l N, l 70, l 7l , l 75, l 77,
l 8J, l 8ºnJ, l º0n4, l º8nJ, Z0Jnl l ,
Zl Jn6
Kìtchcr, FhìIìg, l 44,Z07nl , uruhascì-
cno,mocIscI, "thcLnd"
Kchzk,Lmìm,Zl Zn4
Krìmsþ,5hcIdcn, l 4J
Kuhn,1hcmæ, 5,7, l 7, l 8, 78, 7º,80,
8J, 85~ºZ, º4, ºº, l 00, l 05, l l , l l 0,
l J6, l º5n8, l ººn4, l ººn5, l ººn6,
l ººn7, Z06nl 7, Zl l nl
ìnccmmcnsumbIcgzmdìgms,º0ºl
gzmdìgm,86, 88º0, º4,Zl l nl
Kuhnìzns,º0,ºZ,ºº
Ltcs, lmrc,ºl , l Z7
Ltcur, bmnc, 46, l 0l , l 0Z, l Zl , l Z4,
l J6, l 88nZ, Z07nl , Z08n5
Ludzn, Lrq, l l ,º4, l l 7, l l 8, l º4n4,
l ººn6, Z04nl l , Z0º~l 0n6
Ldcr, FhìIìg,Z08n4
Lvìn,Ncrmzn, l 0Z, l l J, l l 4
250 Index
Icgìægsìtìvìsm,45, ºZ-ºJ, l º6nl l ,
Z00n8,Z06nl4, trruhaIcgìcægsìtìv-
ìsu,vcrìhætìcn,æìcntìhc
Icgìægsìtìvìsts,n. 86,ºZ~ºJ, l 55,
l 7l , l º5, trr uha Lzmzg,Ncumth,
Fcggr,Quìnc,Kìchcnbzm,scìcncc,
ghìIcæghycI
Lngìnc, HcIcn, l 50, l 88nZ, l ºZnº,
Z07nl
Ly, lIznz,Z08~ºn5
Luckmzn,1hcmæ,Z06nl 5
Lynch,MìchzcI, l 0l , l l 5,Z08ºn5,
Zl l nl
Mznnhcìm,LrI, l 0l
Mzrcuæ, Hcrbn, l 84,Z l 5~l 6nl
Mznìsm,7J, 78, ºl , l 0l , l 7l , l 88nZ
McOcwcII,]chn,Zl 0n7
Mclnqrc,Azæzìr,ZZ0n8
Mclntyrc, Le, 74
mænìng,gmnzI, l 0, l J, l 6, l º,Z l , Z5,
Z8, J0, JZ, J6, J8¬0, 5657, 6º, 7J,
l 4l , l 5Z, l 5º, l 6Z¬J, l 65, l 6870,
l 7Z-86ym im, l º4n7, l º7nl J,
Zl Zn4,Zl 5nº,Zl 7nZ,ZZl nl 0,trr uha
mhcrcncc,gmnzIkncwIcdgc,æìcno
zndrcIìgìcn
Owqcn, l 65, l 8Z, l 84-85
FcIznyìcn,8l -85
Quìnccn, ºJ º7,Z0l nl 0
1hcræucn,6J5, l 7680ym im
Wcbrcn,Zl 8n5
Mcncn, Kbn, 4Z, l 0l , l 4J, Z l l nl
Mcn,]chn,7l
mctzghcr,Z07nZ
mctzghysìc, l0, l 6l 8,ZZ,ZJ,Z6J0,
Jl , J4¬0ym im,46,50,5J, 55,6º,
8l , 85, 87, º0, ºZ~ºJ, º6º7, l 0Z,
l ZZ, l Z7, l Zº, l 5Z, l 56, l 5º, l 6l ~
6J, l 65¬7, l 6º, l 707l , l 7Z-7J,
l 80Z, l 84¬5, l º4n6, l º5nº,
l º7nl J, Z00n8, Z0l nl 0, Zl 0nº,
Zl 6nl , Zl 8n4,ZZ0n7,trruhacgìstc-
mcIc@,æìcnozndrcIìgìcn
zntìræìsm,º8, l00, l ZJ, l 88, l ºZ~
ºJ,Z0l -5nl l
rczIìsm, l 7, 45, 60,º8, l 00, l 0J, l l Z,
l l J, l ZJ, l Z7, l 70, l 88, l º4n6,
Z0l ~5nl l , Z07nJ, Zl 7nZ
cIæImo, l 0, l Z-l J, l º,J6,J8,5J,
56, N, 6Z¬J, 7J, l Z6, l Jl , l Jº-
40, l 60J, lM7, l 6º-70, l 7J
74, l 760, l 8+5, l ºl n5, l ºl n6,
l º4n4, l º4-º5n7, Z0ºn5, Zl ºn6,
ZZ0n7,ZZl nl l ,ur m1hcmu
Mctchnìkch LIìc, Zl 4n7
"mìIìtzq-ìndmtrìzIccmgIm,"4
Mìshzn,Lmund,JJ
mcIozrbìcIc@,Z7, l 44, l 48~50, l 68,
Z07n4
Mcno,]zcguc,Zl Z-l Jn6
mcm-cgìstcmcIc@,4Z,46, l 5Z, l 75,
l 7º, l 8Z, l 84, l 85
mcmghìIcæghy, l 5Z, l 8l , ZZl nl l ,trr
uhamcrzI-cgìstcmcIc@,æìcno,cth-
ìccI
Mcrrìs,LhzrIc,86
Mcw,Gm@c,Zl ºn5
MìII,]chn5tuzn,n
MNIcr,]chznnc,Zl ºn6
nzturæhìstcq,6J,6,N, l 78, ZZl nl l ,
trruha1hcræu
nzturzIghìIcæghy, l Z5, l Z6, l 56
nzturc,mætcqcI, l , l 4, l º,J7,Jº,70,
l Jl , l 4Z, l N, l 68, l 80, l 8Z, l 85,
Z05nl l ,Z l 8n4,trruhanzturc,wcndcr
cI
nzturc, rcIìgìcncI, l 5º~5Jym im, l 76,
l º0ºl n4,Zl 5nº
nzturc,wcndcrcI, l , l 0, l 6,J0,J5,40,
8Z, 85, l 60, l 65, l 7Z, l 74, l 8l , l 85,
Z l 7nZ,Zl 7~l 8nJ,trr uhanztum,mæ-
tcqchnzturc,rcIìgcncI
nmOzmìnìznccIutìcnzqthccq,
Z5-Z8, l 8ºnl , l º0nZ, Zl 4n6
Ncumth,Ottcm,86,º6º8,Z0l nl 0
ncutrzIìq,Z, 6, l 6,40,4l , 4Z,46,47,65,
70,7Z~74, l 0º, l ZJ, l Zº, l JJ, l Jº,
l 40J, l 44, l 5 l , l 56, Zl 6nZ, trr uha
cbjotìvìq,gsìtìvìsm,æìcno,vzIuc
cIvæuc-hcc
Nwcn, 5ìr læ c, 5º, º0, l Z7,Z0Jnl l ,
Z06nl 4, Zl Jn6
Nìcmhc,lrìmrìch,J0,JZ,80,84, l JJ,
l 67, l ºl n5
Index 25 1
cbjcctìvìty, Z,4,6º, l 3-l 6, Zl , Zº,34,
38, 40, 4l ¬3, 45-48, 1º-55 ymim,
60l , 6l ¬Z, 64, 68-7l , 7Z-74, 7º,
808Z, 84-85, 85-86, 88, 8º-º0, º8,
l 00, l 03, l 05, l 0º-l 0, l l Z-l 3, l l 6,
l l 8, l Z0, l Z3, l Z5, l Zº-30, l 33,
l J7, l 3º¬l , l 45, l 4º, l 5 l , l 58,
l 6J, l 66, l 7Z, l 75-76, l 80, l ºZnl ,
l º4n4, l º4n5, Z0Z-5nl l , Z0ºn5,
Zl l nl 0, Z l l n3, Zl 3n6, Zl 7nZ,
Zl ºn6,ZZ0n8,su alo ccnstructìvìsm,
ncutmìty,cbjcctìvìty,gcsìtìvìsm,scì-
cncc,vzIuccIvzIuc-hcc,subjcctìvìty
cbscncr,Z4,38,4Z,50, 5Z, 5
455,
5658, 6l ¬4, 7l , l l 8, l 68¬º,
l 70, l 7677, l ºl n5, l ºZnl , l º4n5,
Z08n5,Z0ºn5,Zl 8n5Zl ºn6
subjcct-cbjcctdìvìsìcn,º,33,38,
53,54, 5658ymim, 6l , 63,65,
80, l 66, l 6º, l 73, l 77,malo
Ocsæncs
"subjccdcsssubjcct,"Z4, 37, 55, l 03,
l 6º,t��alo cgìstcmcIc@, ícx
KcIIcr,mctzgbysìccIscImod,
gsìtìvìsm
OncLuIturc, l Z, l 36,t��alo 1wc
LuIturcs
gzrzdìgm,t��Kubn
grscnzIkncwIcdgc, l Z-l 3, l º,37,8Z,
l 74, l 75, l 83, sua/o FcIznyì,sub-
jcctìvìty,1bcrczu
ghìIcscgbycIbìcIc@, Zl Z-l 4n6,Zl 4n7,
t��alo HumznGcncmcFrcjcct,ncc-
OzmìnìzncvcIutìcnzqtbmq, scì-
cncc,vzIucscI, bìeccntrìsm,tcIceIc@
gbìIcscgbycIbumzn scìcnccs, 7l -75
ghìIcscgbycI Iznguzgc,ºZ-º8ymtim,
l 0º, l l 6, l Z3, l 47, l º4n4, l º6n l l ,
Z00n8, Z0l nº, Z0l nl 0, Z05n l l ,
Z l lnl , u�alo IcgìczIgcsìtìvìsm,
Quìnc,Wìngcnstcìn
ghìIcscgbycInzturc, l 5Z,su alo cnvì-
rcnmcntzIctbìc,1bcrczu
ghìIcscgbycIgbysìc, 5 l , t��alo guzn-
tummccbznìc
Fìckcrìng,Andrw,44, l 05,Z07nl
FocIsky, 5cctt, Z07n4
Fcìnærc, Hcnrì, 77
FcIznyì, MìcbzcI, 5, l 7, 56,7º, 8085,
l 05, l 75, su alo gcrscnzI kncwIcdgc
gIìtìczIgbìIcscgbycIscìcncc, l 4Z, l 44,
l 50
Fcggcr, KzrI, 4Z, ºl , l l º,Zl l nl
gsìtìvìsm,Z¬,º, l 0, l J, l 7,35, 37,
40, 4l , 45, 4º-58, 6Z¬4, 67, 7l ,
73, 8Z-83, 86, ºZ, ºJ, ºº, l 00, l 04,
l l 0, l l Z, l Z3, l 6l , l 66, l 707l ,
l 85, l º6nl l , l ººn4,t��alo ÑctlvzIuc
dìstìnctìcn,IcgìczIgcsìtìvìsm,Icgìcæ
gsìtìvìsts, Quìnc, Kcìcbcnbzcb, scì-
cncc,vzIucschsubjcctìvìq,vcrìhæ-
tìcn, scìcntìhc
mcntìctbccntuq,78-7º,º3, l 00
gstmocrnìsm,7,3º, ºZ, l l Z, l l 5, l 67,
Z06nl 4
grzctìcc,scìcntìhc,Z, 7, 8, l Z, l 4-l 6ym-
tim, Z3, 43-44, 47, 4º,53,54,5º,6l ,
78. 87, 8º, ºl , l 00l , l 0J-7, l l 0,
l l 4-l 5, l l 8, l Z0, l Z8-30ymim,
l 40, l 4l , l 8Z, l 85, l º4n5,Z03n l l ,
Z06nl 7, Z07nl 8, Z08-ºn5, Zl l nl ,
ZZ0n8
grzgmztìsm,t��scìcntìhcmctbo,gmg-
mztìc cbzrzctcrcI
Frotcr, Kcbn, 33, 66,73-74, l 4l ¬Z,
l 45, l ºZnº, l º6º7n l 3, Zl ºn5
Futnzm,HìIzq, l 7,47,5Z,5º, l ºZnº,
l º5nl 0, Z00nº, Z0Z-5nl l , Zl ºn5,
ZZ0n8
guzntummccbznìc,5l -5Z,Zº, l 68, l 74,
l ºZ-º3nl , Z06nl 4
Quìnc,WìIIzrdvznOrmzn, l 3, l 7, l 8,
3º, 77, 83, ºZ-l 00, l l 0, l ººn4,
l ººn5, Z00-Z0l nº, Z0l nl 0
rztìcnzIìq,5 , l l , l 5, l 8,Z3,Z6Z8,3Z,
38, 4l-4Z, 47, 5Z, 68, 7º, 808l , 85,
88-8º, l 00, l 067, l l 0, l l Z-l 3, l l 6,
l l 8-Z0, l Zl , l ZZ-Z3, l Z6, l Zº, l 30,
l 40, l 4l , l 48, l 58-5º, l 7Z, l 8ºn3,
l ºl n5, ¡ º5nl 0, l º7nl 3, Zl 0n8,
Zl lnl0,su alo cgìstcmcIe@,IzIIìbìI-
ìty,rcæcn
rcæcn, l 0l l , l 3-l 4, l 6, l 8, l º, Z6Zº,
252 Index
Jl , J5, J8, Jº, 58, 6J, 67, 8 l , 84, º8,
l 06, l 07, l l 5, l l 8h., l Z5-Z6, l Zº,
l J0, l 60, l 6J, l 60, l 67, l 68, l 78,
l 8l , Z06nl 8, Zl 6nl , Zl 7nZ, Zl ºn5,
��� abeOwcy,cgìstcmcIc@,mIìbìI-
ìq,lìæh,Gothc,HumrI,Kznt,
mtìcnzIìty,Kcrq,1hcræu
Owq`smnogtìcncI, l 8l -8J, l 85,
ZZ0n8
dìæunìvc, l l º, l Zl -ZZ
HumrI`sccnogtìcncI l 7l
Knt`sccnccgtìcncI, l N, l 70,
l 8ºnJ, l º8nJ
æìcntìhc,57,78,85, l l 0l J, l l º,
l J6, l 7l
æìzI, l Z0ZZ
5omtìc, l Zl
unìhcd, l J, 58,84, l 66, l 78, l 8ºnJ,
l º5nº, l º8nJ
Kìchcnbzch,Hzns,45,ºZ, l º6
rcIztìvìsm,Jl , 7º,ºl , ºJ, º7,ºº, l 0Z,
l l Z-l 4 ym im, l Zl , l ZJZ4, l Z7,
l Zº, Zl 0nº
Kìchzrds,Aìæn, 8Z
Kchzrds,Kbn,87,8º,ºl
KIstcn, HcImc, l 54-55
mmmtìcìsm,º, l 7,JZ,Jº, 54-55,58,
0J, 78, 85, l ZJ, l 60Z, l N,
l 07, l 6º, l 7l , l 75, l 80, l 8l , l º0n4,
l ºJnZ, Zl 5nº, Zl 8l ºn5
Kcrq,Kchzrd, l ZZ-ZJ, l 4Z,Z0Jnl l ,
Zl 0nº,Zl l -l ZnJ
Km,MìchzcI, l 87nl , l 8ºnl , Zl 5n8
Kmkn,]cn,Zl ºn6
KuthcrIcrd,Lrnct, l J
5æcn,Gcc@,87
5znrc,]ænFzuI, l 6º, l 84
5hæcr, Kcnncth, l º5nº,Zl 4n7
5chæ cr, 5ìmcn, 54, l 88nZ, l º4n5
5mcIIìng,lrìcdrìch,Zl ºn6
5chënbrn,LzrdìnzI,Z6Zº, l 8ºnl ,
��� abehumznìsm,ìntcIIìgcntdcìgn,
Knt,ræn,muIzrìsm
5mrëìngcr,Lmìn,Zl Jn6
æìcno,dchnìtìcncI, Zl-ZZ
æìcno,cthìccI l Z, l 5,4l¬6ym im,
l ZJ, l 68, l 8Z, l ºl n7,Zl Zn5,Zl 7nZ
Irzud,44
æìcncc,ìnstmmcntzIìtycI l 6, Z8-Zº, J0,
J7, Jº,70, 78, l Z0, l Jº, l 4Z, l 667,
l 80, l º0nJ, l º5nl 0
æìcncc,mocIscI,��� abeKuhn
ccIutìcnzq,ºl
mtcndcdtmnsIztìcn, l Z6
GctzIt, 8º-º0
gmwth, 87
rcvcIutìcnzq, 87
"5cìcnccÅ KtìcnzIKncwIcdg," l 04
"5cìcnccÅ 5oìeuIturzI Fmctìo,"
l 05
stzndzrdvìw,85-86
"thcLgcnd," l , Z,Z4
æìcncc,ghìIcæghycI,Z,5,47, 55, 87,
88, l 0º, l l J, l l 4, l l 8, l J0, l J5-J6,
l 8l , l 84, l 8ºn4, l º5nl l ,��� abeccn-
stmctìvìsm,lcycmbnd, Kuhn, IcgìæI
gsìtìvìsm,Ncurzth, FcIznyì, Futnzm,
Quìnc
cìghtccnthontuq, 55-58,��� abe
Gothc
hcIìsm, 58, 86,º4,Z0l nl 0,Zl ºn5, ���
abeGothc,Quìnc
nìnctonth ccntuq, l 7,J5,4º, 5J,
65¬7,7l , ��� abegsìtìvìsm,gsì-
tìvìst
"gM,"5 l , ��� abeWhìtchæd
rcductìcnìsm,JJ, 57, l 4º-50, l 86,
l 87nl , Zl 4n7
"æìcntìhcghìIcæghy,"45,��� abe
Kìchcnbzch
thmqcIthcræ (Hcìd@r),J4-J5,
l 68-70
1hcrczu`s, 6J¬5
æìcno, soìcIc@cI,J, 5, 7, l 5, l 7, l 8,
78-7º, l 00, l 0l , l 0J7ym im, l 0º,
l l 0, l l J, l l 4, l l 6, l l 7, l Zl , l ZJ-Z4,
l Z8-Zº, l J0, l J7, l 4J, l 45, l 55,
l 88nZ,Z06nl 7, Z08-ºn5, Zl l nl , ���
abeccnstmctìvìsm,lcycrabnd,Kuhn,
æìcncc,hìstcqchæìcno,ghìIcscghy
chæìcnozndtcchncIc@studìc,
soìcIc@cIkncwIcdgc,æìcIe@cI
æìcntìhckncwIcdgc
Inde 253
æìcncc,vzIuccI,4,6, l 4, l 5, l º,J0,JZ,
JJ, J7, 4Z¬4, 407, 54, 6l , 6J, 7Z,
8Z, l 00, l 0J, l 06, l 0º-l 0, l l J, l l º,
l ZZ, l Z4-Z6ym im, l Zº, l J0, l J6,
l 5 l , l 5Z, l 55-56, l 68, l 7l , l 75,
l 7º, l 8Z, l 88nZ, l º0nJ, l º5nl 0,
l º7nl J,Zl 0n8,trraboÑct,rcIztìcn
tcvzIuc,IzctlvzIucdìstìnctìcn,ncu-
tmìty,cbjcctìvìq,truth,vzIuccI
bìocntrìsmæ, l 5J-55, l 56, l 5º,
Zl Zn4, Zl Zn5, Zl 4n7
Owcycn, l 65, l 84-85, ZZ0n8
cgìstcmìc,Z, l0,4l , 4Z,60,68,8J,
l l J, l Z4, l J7, l 8Z-8Jnl , l ºZnº,
l ººn6, Z0J-5nl l , Z0º-l 0n6
lcycmbcndcn, l 05¬, l Z0
Hzbrmæcn, Zl �l 7nZ
humznìstìc,6J,68,7Z, l 04, l J8,
l40, l 4l , l 47, l 74, l 80, l 8l , l 84,
Zl 5nº
ncncgìstcmìc, l 0, l º,4J,60, l l J,
l 8Z-8Jnl, l ºZnº
ncrmztìvc,46,6Z,87,8º,ºº-l 00,
l 04, l 45, l 48, l 5J,Zl l nl ,
cbjcctìvc,trrcbjcctìvìty
gsìtìvìst, 54,58¬lym im,6Z¬J,
l0J,tnabogsìtìvìsm
Quìnccn,º5
subjcctìvc,Z,J8,Jº,50,5Z,5J, l 5º,
l 6l ¬Z, l 7J
1hcrczu cn, l 7º-80
vzIuc-Ircc scìcncc, 7l , l ZJ, l JJ, l 4l ,
l 46, l 4º, l 58, l ºZnº
Wcbcr cn, 7J-74, Zl 8-l ºn5
æìcno-humznìsmzIIìzncc,67¬8, l Z5-
Z6, l Jl , l ººnJ
æìcncczndIìbrzIìsm, l 5,J0,4Z,45,
67¬8,70,l ZJ, l Z5-Z6, l J0Jl ,
l J8, l 5 l , trrabohumznìsm,æcmzr-
ìsm
æìcnozndgIìtìc, l Z, l 5, l º,46,
l 0l -Z, l l 7, l Zº, l J5, l 4Z, l 44¬7,
l 4º-50, l ºl n7,Zl Zn5,trraboæìcno
zndsoìzI gIìq
æìcnozndrcIìgìcn, l º,ZJ-Jlym im,
J5, Jº¬0, 5Z-5J, 68-7l ym im,
7Z, 80, l J4, l J7, l Jº, l 44, l 47,
l 5 l , l 5Z, l 60, l 6º, l 7Z-7J, l 87nl ,
l º0nZ, l º0nJ, l ºJnJ, Zl 5nº, Zl 6nZ,
Zl 7 nJ,ZZlnl l ,trraboìntcIIìgcnt
dcìgn,mctzghys|c,rcIìgìcn, nzturc
scìcncczndsoìzIlgubIìcgIìq, 4,6,8,
l 0, l Z, l 5, l 8, J8, 4l , 7Z, 7J, 74, l l Z,
l ZJ, l J0Jl , l J7, l Jº-J4 ym im,
l 48-50,uraboscìcncczndgIìtìc
æìcnccstudìc,7,º-l 4ym im, l 6, l 8,
45, 47, 58, 60l , 8º, ºl -ºZ, ºº-l 0l ,
l 0J, l 06, l l 0l l , l l l-l 5ym im,
l l 7, l l 8, l ZJ, l Z5, l Zº, l J8, l 85,
l 88nl , l 88-8ºnZ, l ººn5, Z07nl ,
Z08-ºn5,Zl lnl , trraboccnstructìv-
ìsm,æìcno,hìstcqchæìcncc,ghìIcs-
oghycI,æìcncc,soìcIc@chæìcno
zndtohncIc@studìc
æìcnccmdtcchncIc@studìcs, l 88-8º
5cìcnoWzn, 8, l 6, l 8,6J, l l l -l 8ym-
tim, l ZJ-Jlym im, l J7, l 4º, l 67,trr
abozntì-æìcncc,ccnstructìvìsm, Oæ,
dcIcndcncIæìcncc,Grcu, Lvìtt,
5ck
æìcntìhc mctho, l ¬, l 0, l l -l J, Zl , ZJ,
Z7, J5, 4l , 45, 47, 4º-5 l , 57, 58, 6Z,
6, 65¬6, 68, 7Z, 77-78, 8l , ºZ-ºJ,
º5, l l 0, l Z�Z7, l 4Z, l 44, l 46, l 57,
l N, l 70, l 75, l 7º, l 87nl , l º5n8,
l º6nl l , l º6nl Z, Z00n8, Z0l nº,
Z0Znl l , Zl Jn6, Zl 6nl , Zl �l 7nZ,
Zl 8n4, ZZ0n8
mnstmctìvìstcrìtìguccI, l l Jl 7,
l l º, l Z4-Z5, l Zº-J0, Z06nl 7,
Z08-ºn5, Zl 0n6, Zl 0n8
hygthctìc-dcductìvc, l 04
Kuhncn, 85-86, 88-8º
grzgmztìcchzrzctcrcI l 4, l 5, l00,
l 0l , l 05¬, l l 0, l l Z, l l º-Z0,
l Z8, l ººn6, Z04-5nl l , Z08nº,
Zl 0l l nl 0
æìcntìhcrcsczrch, l 5,4J,84, l l 4, l J6,
l 4l , l 46, l 88nZ,Z0Znl l
æìcntìsm,4, l J,4l , 6J,6,7Z,86, l ZZ,
l 4Z, l 67, Zl ZnJ
æìcntìst,65
ægIìtìczIzgcnt, l Jº¬7,ymtim
æìcntìstìc,4
sozrìsm,6, Z5, Z7, J0Jl , 4l , 68-70,
7º, l 4l , Z67, l 68, l 8l , Zl 5nº
254 Index
5cIIzrs,WìIIrìd,J
5crrcs, MìcbzcI, l55
5bzgìn,5tcvcn,54, 87, l ZJ, l Jº, l 88nZ,
l º4n5, Z06nl 7
5ìmcn,Hcrbcn, l58
5ncw,L.F.,J,5, l J8-Jº,Z0ºn5,muha
1wcLuIturc
æìzIOzmìnìsm,7J, l 4J
æìcIc@cIkncwIcdgc(gcncrzI), l Z, l 6,
l 0l , l l l , l l J, l 88nZ,Z06nl 5
soìcIc@cIscìcntìhckncwIcdg(55K),
86, l 0l , l Z6
5ëcrgvìst,1bcmæ,Z0ºn5
5ck, Azn, l l 5, l 8ºnZ, Z07nJ
subjcctìvìq, Z, l 7,Jl , JJ, 5J, 55, 58, 6Z,
7º, 80, 8Z-8J, 85, l 66, l 7Z, l ºl n5,
l º8nJ,Zl 5nº,tttuhacbjcctìvìty,
FcIznyì, gsìtìvìsm, scìcncc,vzIucscI
subjcctìvc
1zyIcr,LbzrIc,Zl 4n7
1zyIcr, FzuI, l 5J-54, l5º
tobncIc@,4,7,Zº, JJ, J7, J8, 4J,
M7, 70, l J6, l Jº, l 4Z, l 48, l 88nZ
tcImIc@, l565ºpasim, Zl Z-l 4n6pa­
sim, Zl 4n7
1bzgrd,FzuI,Jl , 84, l º8nZ
tbmq,scìcntìhc,Z,6, l 0, l 5, l 8, l º,
ZZ, Z4, Zº, 4J, 46, 47, 4º, 5Z, 5J,
55, 60,77,84,87,ºl , l l J, l l 5, l l º,
l Zl , l Z6Z7, l J7, l 44, l 5658,
l 8l -8Z, l 85, l 87nl , l º0nZ, Z07nZ,
Z07n4, Z0ºn5, Zl l nl , Zl Zn4, Zl 6nZ,
l º7nl J, l ººn5,Z00n8,tttuhaccn-
structìvìsm,scìcntìhcmctbo,æìcncc,
gbìIcscgbycI
Kubncn,86º0, l 05
lcycrzbcndcn, l06
Gotbccn,55-56, l º5n8
Hzbrmæcn,Zl 6l 7nZ
Hcìdccrcn,J5, l 70
FcIznyìcn, 8Z-8J
Quìnccn, 8J, ºJ-º4,º7-º8, l ººn5,
Z00Z0l nº
gsìtìvìstvìwscI60l
mìsmlzntìrczIìsm,Z0Z¬nl l
æìzIccnstructìcncI l 0l¬, l 0º,
l l l , l J6,Z06nl 5
sccìzIìnhucncccI, l J5, l5 l , l5J-56
Wcbcrcn,7J
1bcrczu,HcnqOzvìd,6J¬5, l 60J,
l 7680, l 85, l º6nl Z, Zl 5nº, Zl ºn6,
ZZlnl l ,tttuhacgìstcmcIc@, cbæncr,
gsìtìvìsm,subjcctìvìq
1cncgwz, 5usumu, Z08n4
1cuImìn,5tcgbcn,ºl
trutb, l , 5-7, l 4, l 5l º,4º,5Z,58-5º,
6Z, 6º-7l , 77, 7º, 86, 8º-ºl , l 00,
l l 0, l l 8, l Zl -ZZ, l J8, l Jº, l 44, l 46,
l 67, l º4n6, l º6n l l , l ººn6, Z0Z-
5nl l , Zl 0nº, Zl 0nl 0, Zl l nJ, Zl 7nZ,
Zl 8n4,Zl ºn6,tttuhamnstmctìvìsm,
Owq,ìntcIIìgcntdcìgn,Kubn,mtìe
nzIìq,rcæcn,Kcq,scìcno,vzIucscI
cgìstcmìc,5cìcnoWzn
zutbcrìtycIscìcntìhctmth,ZJ,Jº¬l ,
l l 4-l 5, l J4-J5
ccnstmctìvìsttbmqcI l00l06,
l ZJ-Zº
ccrrcsgndcncctbmqcI,585º,ºl ,
º7, l º4n4, l º4n6, Z04-5nl l
dchztìcnzqtbmqcI, Z0Jnl l
cbjcctìvìqznd,4º, 5Z,6l , 67, l l Z,
l J0, l 70
Quìnccn, ºJ-º8
1bcræucn, l 77, l 7º
vzIuccI,4Z¬6,68, l 4Z, l 65, l 7Z,
l 8Z, l 8J, l 87nl , l º5nl 0
1wcLuIturcs,J-5, l l -l Z, l 4, l 8, 57,
65-7l , l J0, l J6, ttt uha Onc LuIturc,
5ncw
vzIuc, ìndustqcI,J7
vcrìhætìcn,æìcntìhc,7,4l , 6l , 8Z,
ºJ, l 00, l l 0, l l 6, l Z0, l º5-º6nl l ,
Z0l n l0,Zl 0n8,tttuhadìæcvcq,æì-
cntìhc,Icgìægsìtìwsm
Vìcc,Gìzmbzttìstz,87
VcnNcummn,]cbn, l ºZ
Wztscn,]zmc, l º8nZ
Wztscn,Kcnncth, l 46
Wcbr, Mæ, 7Z-74, 8J, l JJ, l 4º, l 6º,
Zl 8n5
WbwcII,WIIìm,65,6º,77
Wbìtcbczd,AhmNcnb, 1 , 50
51 , 77,
l 58, l 70, Zl 5nl , Zl 8n4
Whìtmzn,WzIt, l 7J-74
Wìgncr, Lugnc, l ºZnl
Wìgnstcìn,Ludwìg, ºJ, l 7l , Z00n8,
Zl l nl
WcIgn,Lìs,8Z
Wo,AIznW. , l º7nl J
Index
Woolgar, Steve, 1 01 . 1 02, 1 1 6, 1 1 7,
207n1 , 208n5
?JJ
worldview; scientifc versus personal , 3, 9.
1 2, 23, 27. 32-34
.
36. 38-
0, 43.
45.
55, 61 , 68-70, 72, 80, 85. 89, 9
0, 1 1 3
.
1 35, 1 67-70 passim, 1 73, 1 78, 1 8 1
Wright, Lrr, 2 1 4n7
Aled [. Tauber is Professor of
Phi losophy, Zoltan Kohn Profes or
of Medicine, and Director of the
Center for Philosophy and History
of Science at Boston University
1l1e recipient of the 2008 Medal
for Science awarded by the
Univer iry of Bologna for his
work on the theoretical
development of i mmunology
Tauber has also publi hed
extensively in science studies and
bioethics. He is the author or
editor of thirteen books, including
Hltrent Autonomy emd the Ethics of
Responsibility, Henr David Treau
aml the Moral Agency ofK�Jowing,
Co�ssions ofa Medicine Man, and
The Immune Self He lives with hi
wife in Boscawen, New Hampshire,
and Jerusalem, Israel.
" Bold and timely. Painting in richly
perceptive strokes, accomplished
philo opher Alfred I. Tauber pre ems
a vivid and compelling case for a
nco-Romantic, yet pragmati t
' human centered' vision of science
in which the Two Cultures
divide i bridged:'
-Mcnachem Fh,jotpl .d til Maur
Prsor ofHistor ami Philosopl of citllct,
Td Al'iv Umt•trsity
"D ply thoughtfl, g ner u l y fam d, tyli hly written, and packed with well�
ch n ca rudie , including a liv ly reinterpretation of what might on titut
a ientifi c fa t, Tauber' argument rel ate modern ience in ide a traditi n of
publi di our e and human value . 1i timely and a cute rudy i one of th mo t
p r cptive conrributi n to thi d bate to be publi hed in r enr y ar :·
-J net Brown , Ammo11t Proft sor oftl1t Hi tor • of ciel<(,
H.lrl'llr.l lli c•tr5it)
"An original, c mpr hen iv , and piau ible inr lle rual framework to rejuvenat
th dialogue between cience • nd th humanitie . Thank to Tauber' wide and
de p hi torical and phil phi al kn wledge, th impli tic and fen unreali tic
vi w about the narur f ci nc of b th po itivi t and po tm dern appr ach
are br ught into critical f u ."
- ilb rto or ellini, Prof(s. or ofBioctl ics an.l Hrstor of
.f"dicm(, S•lJII(IlZ•l·Unil•(r. rcy ofRom(
"An dmirabl nd lib r ring rethinking of key i ue in th philo ophy of 1 nee.
Who w uld h ve exp ct d a b k that begin with p itivi m nd Quin to nd
\ ith Tor aut'
-Ala dair 1acln
t
re, RtS(•lrch Prof or, Unin•r. rty of. rotrt D.1mt
"A remark. ble book by a rem rkabl uthor. Refecting th inc re t nd know! dg
of b ch a medical r e rcher/phy ici n and phil pher/hi tori n of i nee,
T ub r' ef rt i vitallr important, even if on ha di gr em nt with parr of
hi argument. Hi yn ptic vi i n of " hO\ we g t h re" i mazing, a arc hi
moral en icivity and br adth of know! dge. Anyone who car ab ut r pairing th
fra rur in our culture hould re d nd o nder thi b k."
B
ha ltlrpr · .wm
-Hilary Putn
in tl> DeJ•Ilr
Reit
e's
Bok
19
K St NW,
Neh
DC
20 s
20
2·223-3327 80-537-431 4
w
w.relters.cor
TaJb
S 9
7
8-
1
-6258-
"
1 0
1
e ce and the Ouest lc>r Meaning
"
0
TC
$
History ot S
ience
29. 95
IS �71 1 602)8 21 0 1
B AY L OR
JULI LU

CI ENCE and the QlJE T for MEANING
Alfr d I. Taub r

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Science and the Quest for Meaning

Alfred I. Tauber

BAYLl1R UNIVERSIH PRESS

©2009 by Baylor University Press Waco, Texas 76798
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Tauber, Alfred I. Science and the quest for meaning I Alfred I. Tauber. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978- 1 -60258-2 1 0- 1 (hardcover : alk. paper) I. Science--Philosophy. 2. Science and the humanities. I. Title. Q 1 75.T2245 2009 50 1 --dc22 20090 1 0375

Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper with a mimimum of 30o/o pew content.

for Hal

H� wiD sm�U. Scime� anJ &ligion I do not s�� "ality as moraDy inJijformt: "ality. h�ar. Henry David Thoreau. as Dnu9 saw.jnuish Philosophy as a Way ofLifo Th� �man ofscime� wiD hav� a ra" Indian wisJom---anJ wiD /mow natu" bmn by hisfi� organization. anJ li� outsitk th� "aim oftruth anJfals�hood. tas�. w� do not kam by infomc� anJ tkdunion. that is b�cause th9 cannot b� in�ll«tuaDy tkcitkd at aU. Hilary Putnam. but I s�� thnn as matk in mpons� to elnnanels that w� do not �a�. anJ th� application ofmath�tia to philosophy but by Ji"a intn-coun�. Benrand RusseU. makn elnnanels on us.same� cannot tl«itk quntions ofva/w. s��.jouma4 October 1 1 . fo�� bm" than oth" mm. Valun may b� �a�J by human bnngs anJ human cultum. His wiD b� a Mql" anJfi� �nimc�. It is with scimc� as with nhin-w� cannot /mow truth by mnhod anJ contrivanc�th� Baconian is as fols� as any oth" mnhod. It is "ality that tktnminn whnh" our mponsn a" lllkqua� or inlllkqua�. Th� most scimtifie should b� th� h�althint man. 1 840 .

Contents Acknowledgments Introduction: Concerning Scientific Reason What Is Science? 2 3 4 IX 1 21 49 77 1 09 1 33 1 65 1 87 223 247 Nineteenth-century Positivism The Fall of Positivism The Science Wars Science in Its Socio-political Contexts 5 Conclusion: The Challenge of Coherence N otes Ref erences In dex .

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With some overlap. the intersection of science and moral philosophy.Since 1 993. cell biol­ ogy. I have arrived at my own perspective from two vocations. I devoted another twenty years to the history and philosophy of nineteenth. As a research physician. That work spanned the fields of free-radical chemistry..Acknowledgments This book joins the two sides of the divide between science and the humanities. I have developed my interpretation of science as an intellectual an d cultural activity from a privileged position . Hilary Putnam. the place of reductionism in biomedicine. . Scimc� anJ th� Quest for Meaning in many ways completes the project that began with my transition from a laboratory scientist to a philosopher and historian of science. colleagues. and most recently. but Bob Cohen. and f rien ds. I spent twenty years of my career engaged in inves­ tigations of the biochemistry of the inflammatory response. Building a bridge between these two domains has been a richly rewarded intellectual endeavor. protein chemistry. one assisted by many students. The Center. and John Stachel deserve special acknowledgment for their support and guidance. I have had the good fo rtune of surveying science studies as Director of Boston U niversity's Center for Philosophy and History of Science. and molecular biology. with particular studies devoted to the development of immunol­ ogy's basic theories. To acknowledge all those who have aided me simply resides beyo nd my sorry memory.and twentieth-century biology.

and John Stachel. Finally. "Science and the Humanities. All the more reason to offer this analysis! More immediately. Appropriate to its genesis. I have witnessed the growth and evolution of those disciplines devoted to the study of science. "Science and Reason. The Center's Boston Colloquium for Philosophy of Science has hosted over 800 lectures since 1 993! In the rich dialogue that these presentations have stimulated. Indeed. and sociology of sci­ ence. is the oldest and one of the most distinguished forums for scholarly discussions of the history. 2006) and later published (Tauber 2007) . for many years. Charles Griswold. but rather a report of my own views. I must single out Roger Smith. 2005). Jonathan Price. Menachem Fisch. is a distillation of my intellectual excitement stimulated by the erudition and creative interpretative insights of our visiting scholars and resident fellows. but I extend a special thanks to those who read this manuscript at various stages of its production: Chalmers Clark. Adi Ophir. This book. April1. Paula . I will not enumerate the many colleagues and friends with whom I have profitably explored the specific issues presented in this book. I thank my wife. philosophy. Reason and Faith: A Kantian Perspective. and I thank them for their professionalism and effective efforts on behalf of this project. has prodded me to rethink my positions and to probe more deeply into the issues described here and in related publications. Those generous efforts are much appreciated. That paper was expanded into a second presentation. I have also profited from my graduate and undergraduate seminars based on this text at Boston University (2005) and Tel Aviv University (2006). I freely admit that my humanistic orientation is at odds with the temper of the times. where my students helped me frame and articulate the issues discussed in the book. The first. Scott Gilbert. which may fairly be judged as idiosyncratic when measured against the vast majority of studies published in this field. who. mathematics. Steve Scully. and logic. this book has been nur­ tured by Carey Newman and the staff of Baylor University Press. This book is not a precis or overview of science studies. this book crystallized around two of my lec­ tures and the discussions surrounding them. in large pan." for the Herbert H. Peter Schwartz." was delivered at the European Regional Conference of the Board of Governors of Tel Aviv University (Berlin. Reynolds Lectureship at Baylor University Uanuary 3 1 . Walter Hopp.X SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING created in1960. I am particularly appreciative to the skeptics who challenged my thesis and provoked me to more clearly argue its case.

Key passages from various works have been excerpted and reformulated for this book. 38�0 1 ). 307-36). in the hopes he will read it. Hal personifies the caring physician. 1 993. I hereby acknowledge permission to reprint edited portions of these previous publications: "Science and reason. Tauber 1 999c) . The more specific project of understanding the fact/value relationships operative in nineteenth-century science appeared in my examination of Henry David Thoreau"s response to the ascendant positivism of that era (200 1 ) . New Hampshire November 2008 . a man devoted to sci­ ence and irs humane application. who has always been my most consistent and effective inter­ locutor. so I regard the message conveyed here a testament to his own commitments. "Ecology and the claims for a science-based ethics" ( 1 998. reason and faith: A Kantian perspec­ tive" (2007. in which I considered the relationship of medi­ cine's epistemology and ethics. such as the aesthetic dimension of scientific inquiry (Tauber 1 996a) and the "bio-political" character of molecular biology and cer­ tain aspects of irs application are long-standing interests of mine (Sarkar and Tauber 1 99 1 . I extended that case study in Patimt Autonomy and th� Ethics of Rtsponsibility (2005a). Portions of this book have been culled from previously published material where I dealt with various areas of contemporary science studies. Accordingly.ACKNOWLEDGMENTS XI Fredriksen. review of Th� Historiography ofContnnporary Scimc� and T�chnology ( 1 999b. Some issues. This study is dedicated to my friend Hal Churchill. Tauber and Sarkar 1 992. 1 85-206). Boscawen.

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and truth was attained through objective methods. every Saturday morning Mr. It seemed that science defined its own domain. and to prepare the country for possible assault. f Alfred Nonh Whitehead. nevertheless was cherished by its believers. and buoyed by the wonder of nature. I studied "new math" and was enrolled in advanced science courses. Science assumed an imponance hitherto unimagined prior to the Soviet challenge. Srimc� anJ th� Modnn Wor/J Growing up in the Sputnik era during the 1950s. dis· ciplined in scientific method. Weren•t we about to embark for the moon? Such mammoth enterprises were undenaken under the banner of truth.Introduction Concerning Scientific Reason lfsrinu� is not to lkgmn-a« into a m�dky ofad hoc hypothnn. Indeed. In that spirit. simple and distorted as it might be. but followed methods that revealed Truth. and not only remained insulated from common human foibles. an even more imponant foundation was being set for myself. and thereby . beside air raid simulations. Wizard appeared on television to elucidate nature•s mysteries. namely a sense that science offered something close to true knowledge as the technical mastery of nature proceeded with breath·taking achievements. Drilled in facts. it must btcom� philosophical anJ must mur upon a thorough criticism o its own foundations. This "Legend" (Kitcher 1993). I enjoyed what appears now to have been a unique education. Perhaps I too would become an investigator. I saw a future bright with the scientific enterprise.

neutrality. as well as the various agendas of government-supponed research for military or economic gain. The irony of science ponraying itself as a fantasy-a restful space for logic and rational deliberation as sole determinants of research. the colors were not. parsimony.. The philosophy of science that framed my generation's education still pro­ moted a stark nineteenth-century positivism. Here I will narrate how the conceptual scaffolding supponing the castle in the sky fell and then offer a summary of the post-Sputnik description that replaced it. And when the doors of the laboratory are flung open and the applications of research are considered. 1 And beyond recognizing the diverse values that must be employed to create objective facts. forms of knowledge that do not subscribe to the scientific method cannot be validated. facts are the currency of knowledge. that valid knowledge is scientific. Coupled to that dismantling of the Legend. which means. the overlap of so-called "subjec­ tive" values in constructing scientific knowledge has increasingly become apparent. on the separation of "facts" from "values." Valuts were usually considered a catchall for subjectivity. Positivism thus rested. we will survey the cultural war that commenced with the reports of revi- . the objective/subjective schema simply defies the social and conceptual realities of scientific inquiry. facts (e. coherence.g. ultimately. much of the scholarship over the past fifty years characterizing scientific practice and theory formation has shown that the relationships between facts and values. cannot be neatly divided between "objective" and "sub­ jective" domains. The shades of grey were apparent on the screen. one that would achieve some utopian respite from the tribulations of human­ derived confusion-is a story which has been told from many points of view. predictability)-were integral to the scientific enterprise. which already had com­ menced even as I was learning the solar system model of the atom. Factoring out the ever-present commercial aspects of investigations. sim­ ply. tpistmzic values-those values that made facts.1 SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING confirm the precepts taught to me. one seemingly simpler than today. doctrine is fated for refutation. Indeed. The term positivism refers to a philosophy of "positive" (objective) knowledge. even within the narrow confines of laboratory investigations. That was the world in which I awakened. objectiv­ ity. but of course. accordingly. Of course. the complex relationship of facts and values becomes even more convoluted.

Snow famously described this rift in terms of "Two Cultures. science appeared to have spun into its own orbit. This book is about that seismic intellectual and politi­ cal shift. overflowing with its power and promise. and perhaps. and philosophers of science. Philosophically. . emphasis in original) Here. P. full of itself. brimming with confidence and even arrogance. C. a critical chorus challenged the authority of a doctrinaire scien­ tific method and its hegemonic form of knowledge. "common-sense" is a placeholder for all those modes of knowing eclipsed by the triumph of science's worldview. it is a revised narrative about my own youthful naivete. of what is that it is. sociologists. adopted peculiar mores. and of what is not that it is not. science is the measure of all things. in which the scientific illiteracy of the literati and the deafness of scien­ tific technocrats precluded meaningful dialogue.INTRODUCTION 3 sionist historians. competing science/anti-science camps assembled along academic lines. [l]n the dimension of describing and explaining the world. Citizen activ­ ists joined them under the belief that characterizing (and controlling) science was too important to leave to the self-appraisals (and choices) of scientists alone. . From that dissenting position. Having assumed a unique place in the academic pantheon. where he learned new lan­ guages." inasmuch as the sociolo­ gies and modes of discourse of each group had radically diverged (Snow 1959/1964). the positivist program began to crumble during the early 1950s (Friedman 1999). science pursued its own agenda with confidence and little concern for relat­ ing to its "distant relations. The first was intel­ lectual: Humanists viewed science as assuming imperialistic ambitions in . . A more damning appraisal remained unwritten: because of its success and its independence of the larger philosophical context from which it emerged. in a sense. and with the loss of its intellectual domi­ nance. 82-83. when the twin forces of professionalization and positivism drove the scientist to distant lands. . and cultivated particular industries. science was regarded as an unruly adolescent. As Wilfrid Sellars noted (writing as a philosopher): The scientific picture of the world r�/acn the common-sense picture . the scientific account of " what there is" supm�Jn the descriptive ontology of everyday life . Humanists feared an imbalance in two domains. (SeUers 1 997. ." This division was well underway by the mid-nineteenth century. Instead of celebrating the polyphonic contributions of all sectors of scholarship.

most scientists and humanists found themselves on different sides of the demarcation lines outlined by the positivist program. which prominently displayed its products in Vietnam and later in Iraq. largely as a result of its material successes. these industries were prominently energized by what Eisenhower menacingly described as a military-industrial complex. Here. and the recent conquest of polio on the other. since radi­ cal objectivity had repeatedly been deflated by showing how pernicious cultural determinants influenced scientific inquiry and interpretation. as a purely intellectual conflict. would devalue other forms of inquiry. The Two Culture divide was. of course. consequently. Beyond the technology sold domesti­ cally in the West. These matters. and that standard. are not our subject. a particular positivist vision of it) and derivative technolo­ gies were grabbing all the headlines-and the money. Thus. Dissenting voices. . Bronowski 1956). increasingly dominated public policy decisions and educational resources." whose authority rested on the economic bounty indebted to scien­ tific advances. suffice it to note that by the end of the 1950s. while germane. also an expres­ sion of how science. but by mid-twentieth century. The political and social domain was the second area where science posed a threat to the humanities. but with nuclear war threatening civilization on the one hand. humanists actively charged that such scientistic claims were by their very nature fallible. even more. broadly applied. attempted to find the humane within the scientific enter­ prise (Conant 1953. The social apparatus that supported the scientific enterprise ranged from the educa­ tional reform stimulated by the Sputnik challenge to scientific industries promoting their vested interests. so that a gentle species of scientism seeped into the schools educating the Baby Boomers. Many were troubled by the danger of misplaced applications (like nuclear power) and. humanists rightly feared the imbalanced influence of the science "lobby. This so-called scientism (the belief that virtually any­ thing worth knowing or understanding may be approached scientifically and given scientific explanation) had been on the positivists' agenda for over a century.4 SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING the attempts to apply its methods and logic in arenas where heretofore it had not ventured. Despite its failures. by a kind of political arrogance that seemed to accompany the power of unbridled technology. science (albeit. the positivism that dominated the natural and social sciences asserted a rigid factuality to what constituted knowledge. Despite the technical achievements of science. science education dominated other forms of knowing.

Feyerabend. the original cultural divide began to mend in an unpredictable way as inter­ disciplinary studies of science achieved new sophistication. Indeed. and Michael Polanyi's Ptrsonal Knowletlgt ( 1962) offered a more comprehensive appreciation of scientific think­ ing than that proffered by positivist philosophies of science. No longer was science allowed to perform insulated from outside scrutiny. the self-confident posture of the "scien­ tific" suffered from these radical criticisms. the respective ways of thinking seemed foreign to each other. Ironically then. But beyond this professional separation. Indeed. and how they conducted them­ selves. Philosophers. thus cross-fenilization had become increasingly barren. their cardinal lessons have gained legitimacy in hard fought debates. scientists generally are not interested in their own histo­ ries. and the Two Cultures were melded back to one with a vengeance. and sociologists of science pursued an ambitious program to characterize the laboratory as an intellectual and cultural activity devoid of positivist conceits. the disciplines of history and philosophy of science morphed into a new species.INTRODUCTION 5 increasing authority. as Thomas Kuhn noted. and although the work of Kuhn. which employed analytic tools quite alien to the then current "internal" approaches that followed the positivist line without dissent. After all. Consequently. what philosophical structures they employed. much of what serves as debate about what science is and what it does may be reduced to those who seek to demarcate the vari­ ous kinds of truth claims arising from different intellectual cultures from those who seek to bridge the apparent chasm between them. After As science assumed a new degree of independence based on its ever­ . the post-Kuhnian critique opened a schism for all to see. science was wrenched back from its isolated status. While the boundary between science and nonscience served as a critical nexus of positivist thought. Paul Feyerabend in Against MtthoJ (1975) attacked the sacrosanct status of scientific ratio­ nality. Kuhn's Structurt ofScitnti c Rtvolutions (1962) rejected claims fi to orderly scientific progress. These works marked the beginning of a new movement to study science in a broad­ ened humanistic and sociological context. Today. coincident with Snow's critique. and Polanyi took a generation to take hold. historians. 1970). much less the philosophy undergirding their discipline (Kuhn 1962. the Two Cultures mentality that Snow and others had so recently identified quickly collapsed as critics of science assened challenging interpretations of what scientists did. They filled a gaping hole.

determines the use of knowledge in the political realm. facts must assume their meaning &om a uni­ verse of other valued facts. Despite the reiterated disavowals of a value-laden science. critics successfully halted the superconducting collider project. placed into some over-arching context-whether in debate about a scientific theory or an argument about social policy. which hitherto had been thought of as neu­ tral. the exemplar . For instance. but such circumspection only highlights how interpretation. had assumed secularism's closest approximation to truth. the traditional orthodox method. the credibility of scientific testimony became contentious. But a more fundamental issue appeared in discussions about objectivity and the character of facts: facts are always processed-interpreted. were now recognized as taking on different meanings depending on factors far removed &om a narrow construal of their placement in a model or theory. Inextricable &om context. Such activists no longer accept as dogma the claims and promises of a growing scientific lobby. the new critics challenged doctrine-the very notion that one could defend a mnhod of scientific inquiry built on a firm demarcation of facts and values. such knowledge. Thus the neutrality of the facts that &amed the issue in question became suspect. Beyond active public debate over the direction of scientific inquiry. and. date. Facts are sacred. No longer were facts simply facts. What might appear as a fact in one context might be revealed as only a factoid. undergirded by a vast array of values. Increasingly. citizens are maintaining a vigilant watch over science's aspirations and successes. in 1 993. in the process. However. That insight and the caution it has generated. or perhaps not even a reliable claim or report. putatively objective and neutral. critics have exposed the neutrality of science as a useful conceit. Debate might ensue as to what those facts mean and how we might apply them to social and economic policy. Scientific facts.6 SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING all. In that scandal. which promised hard. to the early part of the twen­ tieth century. revealed an Emperor disrobed. something new emerged during the twentieth century's closing decades. and so the fight over the significance of scien­ tific findings took place not only in traditionally prescribed professional circles. at least. neutral facts and derivative truths. but in the courts and legislatures as experts pitched themselves in setvice to one socio-political position or another. When applied to scientific methods and the logic that governs investigation. scientific knowledge has increasingly defined natural realities.

on the other hand. protected from intruders that might invade its sanctioned ways and profitably tap its resources. in recent decades the notion of science in the pursuit of knowledge. tradition­ ally afforded scientists the space to pursue their research in the inter­ ests of advancing knowledge. leaving its application to another public forum. 2 Science-studies philosophers. The distinction between science and its product. science no longer enjoys such latitude in its enterprise and can no longer be regarded as some colony of its motherland. If the positivist program assens that such and such is the case. has been challenged by a ravenous technology that has come to dominate science. as opposed to the idealized philosophical claims made on their behalf. in what some regarded as antiscientific conservatism (threatening United States leadership in elementary particle physics). brought science well within the fold of other forms of truth seeking. Indeed. How science is understood determines how its knowledge is applied. These reas­ sessments rallied "defenders" of science to protect the perceived assaults on objectivity and rational discourse made by "postmodern enemies of . and. This understanding rests on a multi-layered cultural and intellec­ tual history. where science is understood as subject to powerful economic and politi­ cal interests. sci­ entific knowledge is regarded as always fallible and its methods always in question. technology. Following Kuhn and Feyerabend. a deluge of sociologically oriented critics looking at what scientists actually did. then the authority of scientific knowledge achieves high standing. This debate seems to have generated a different kind of activ­ ism than that of the previous attacks on what had been perceived as unbridled technology (e. pursues its own agenda for its own panicular gain. and others saw as appropriate constraint of a ravenously imperialistic venture. research for the pursuit of truth. On this view. then scientific claims will be viewed with more circumspec­ tion. If. a contemporary ponrait of science must account for its social character in a complex calculus. nuclear power or environmental pollutants). and if the public relies on the cenainty of such claims. the insularity of the laboratory and the truth claims made under its mande were increasingly called into question. reversing the historical relationship between basic investigation and its application (Forman 2007). However. in turn.INTRODUCTION 7 of Big Science.. and sociologists converged on depicting scientific practice on a pragmatically based epistemology (replacing reified method and verifica­ tion).g. Consequendy. historians.

as well as an account of how the picture of reality that science presents impacts on our personal understanding of the world. On this view. but the skirmishes had been passion­ ately fought since the end of World War II. to new kinds of scrutiny. society. The intellectual studies of science complemented social forces that opened science. I choose not to argue over the specifics of these polemics. where scientists and activists meet on equal footing. Indeed. the history of science as an idea requires both a description of an intellectual and technical enterprise. General Themes This book ponrays science from a humanistic perspective." The resulting "Science Wars" of the 1990s brought to climax conflicts that had simmered for decades. The political chorus has become more brazen in its effrontery. the human body. A unified culture. character­ izing science in a positivist modality narrowly distorts how it functions in advanced industrial societies. from the global warming "debate" to public financing of stem cell research. As a result. stopping cenain kinds of science and directing others through more rigorous administrative control. which views science not simply as an establishment seeking objective knowledge. and the human mind. such strictures miscon­ strue what science is. but not necessarily with salu­ tary results for utopian-minded science enthusiasts. as an institution.8 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING the Enlightenment. and the stellar sky. That world is not just the natural environment. the battles over science have achieved a feverish pitch. And with the recent radical politicization of science. and the queries of concerned citizens can no lon­ ger be dismissed as the ramblings of the naive. furthermore. who sought a more complete independence and authority. Most studies of science focus on science itself: here. The Science Wars may have for­ mally been declared in the 1990s. we will examine the broader concerns to show how our current . has developed in the world of public policy. but rather to highlight how the doors of the laboratory were flung open and ponder some of the consequences of science reassessed. but as a panicipant in the subjective interpretations of human understand­ ing of the nature. but includes more intimately our placement in that cosmos and the characterization of our own human nature. its practice no longer commands the awe enjoyed before World War II. science lost its privileged state: its epistemological authority lacks its for­ mer sacrosanct status.

Before the rise of nineteenth­ ce ntury positivism. image? The new picture we have at our disposal results from fifty years of science studies that has developed ways of understanding the complex i nstitution we call science in ways that are radically different from the descriptions offered prior to 1960. On one view. the one characterized by contemporary science studies and indebted to the romantics. The difference in how we understand science. This is an old problem. is analogous to the contrast between the black and white television screen of the early 1950s. personal aspect of our lives. Indeed. while the latter argues that the subjective remains constitutive to the scientific endeavor at every level. the romantics sought to cohere the world-the su�jective and objective. and social roles of science in contemporary Western . Each perspective accepts that science offers a unique way of depict­ ing reality. the positivists would disjoint that effort. even distorted. I b elaeve we must revisit the problem and seek new responses. This book characterizes those differ­ ences and draws a set of conclusions that presents science as a vibrant. The first rep­ resents the conception of science based on a simple objectivity limited by a relatively primitive circuitry and vacuum tubes. both in its process of generating knowledge and utilizing that information. So beyond the diverse material. but the former admits no subjective elements into its process. Science and the Questfor Meaning underscores post-positivist insights and explores how objective knowledge becomes integrated into our per­ sonal worldviews. understands science as melding various ways of knowing and drawing from many reservoirs of cultural influ­ ences. but they could not meet our desires for the most sophisticated and accurate transmission of the events we watch. This analysis seeks to lessen the tension between two ways of expe­ riencing nature. why would we cling to an outmoded technology? The implicit question posed here falls into the same pattern: Why would we accept a description of contemporary science that gives a limited. in contrast to today's more complex understanding of science constructed from the electronics and satellite transmissions of a digital age. and the brilliant color and stereo sound system of contemporary high definition television.INTRODUCTION 9 understandings of scientific knowledge impact on our deepest notions of reality. Early televisions have nostal­ gic value and historical interest. one that it has been obtained by a stark separation of subject and object. The contrasting vision. science presents an objective picture.

Each of these issues may be traced to a relaxation. The reasons for sci­ ence point to several facets: science's general (and most obvious) task of promoting technological growth. I maintain that the deepest conceptions of Western human being take root in the complex mulch of scientific fact and theory. science must be regarded from at least three vantages-epistemological. I am concerned here with the profound ways in which sci­ ence frames the way in which we conceive the world and ourselves in it. it has hardly achieved stability or even clear demarcations. the translation of knowledge to meaning represents the final step of the scientific endeavor. society. This latter meta­ physical pursuit often remains obscured by the technical triumphs of modern science. and (4) the more general changing relationships of facts and values. Reason's configuration in science has always been contested. we will review the diverse roles of science in contempo­ rary Western societies and the many kinds of reason it employs. and metaphysical. of the fact/value dis­ tinction. (2) the constructivist elements in the production of scientific knowledge. That evaluation rests on several descriptions that have emerged from recent science studies: (1) the "boundary question" depicting the elasticity of the borders defining science. its putative neutral role in adjudicat­ ing the socio-political debates over social policy. This book explores both how this different understanding of scientific reason emerged and . To begin. The reasons ofscience refer to a conceptual precis of scientific methods and the philosophies that explain knowledge acquisition. ethical. and the nature of being. if not collapse. so on this view. (3) the juxtaposition of epistemic and nonepistemic values in the creation of facts and the exercise of scientific judgment. I wish to remind that this dual agenda has always guided the scientific enterprise. needless to say.10 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING societies. fitful. So to capture its philosophical character. and at this time. The metaphysics of selfhood. science began with the desire to master nature coupled to probing the wonder of nature's mysteries for human understanding. and its pervasive impact on existential and metaphysical formulations of the character of human nature. a pluralistic picture dominates. which in my view clearly demarcates the positivist view of science from everything that followed positivism's demise. After all. and. and nature each take hold in the real­ ity science presents to us. the place of humans in nature. which interplay in the creation of scientific knowledge and its application. Indeed. We too must establish our own understanding of rea­ son. and confusing.

Reason has many forms and expressions. which address (1) the aims of science. Thus scientific rationality holds no single approach nor possesses an encompassing logic.. For instance. a different characterization. In another context. reason functions in diverse activities. science instantiates a panicular form of Western reason (irrespective of its various modalities). This authority creates a tension: on the one hand. and interpretation). Science (at least as usually conceived) powerfully shapes cognition. economic. and in one sense. modes of thought and cognition. and. that reason not only explains actions. social demands. but also causes them (1980). one format considers the relationship of "reasons" and "causes" in the sense that Donald Davidson argued. logical. So the question arises. defines what is as its methods prominently establish stan­ dards of knowledge. Sociologists have . Driven by diverse forces-social. which assume their char­ acteristic use in various contexts (i. Indeed. How is scientific knowledge integrated into the social and psychological lives of us all? This issue­ how coherence may be sought among competing individual needs. and (3) the theories and claims aris­ ing from this venture (Laudan 1984a). Distinctive rules and logic govern these different forms of scientific rationality. aesthetic. Obviously different faculties of knowing are at play. the requirement to satisfy so many masters has stymied formal attempts to define science's reason beyond the loosest of definitions.INTRODUCTION II the ways in which such a description accounts for science's epistemology and its socio-political applications. political. (2) the methods employed to achieve those goals. results from science's cultural role. science responds to many agendas. Indeed. cultural. historical.e. and psychological modes of thought. and so fonh-and governed by a complex range of moral. and various forms of experience-returns to the dilemma of reason's unity. This complexity reflects the conceptual heterogeneity of science itself and its commanding presence in contemporary industrial societies. which must take its place at the table with other forms of knowledge. namely. The c allenge is to give proper balance to each. scientific inquiry. A differ­ ent role for reason. discerning and then establish­ ing science's philosophical position on the coordinates of fact and value Jinks the wide expanse of contemporary science studies. Three key points of integra­ tton are discussed here: � { 1 ) The Two Cultures. consequently. Science no longer resides outside the humani­ ties as some distant colony of academic inquiry. discourse.

However. now we face the challenge of understanding the myriad connections that place science firmly in its supponing culture-intellectual. The perspective adopted here argues the case for One Culture. how might integration be achieved? This challenge-the . leaves the Two Culture divide dominating popular conceptions of science. After all. science has been dethroned &om its spe­ cial positivist pedestal. In Descartes' for· mulation of rn cogitans (mind) and rn txtmsa (matter). historians have shown the jolted evolution of science as anything but strictly rational in its progress. The political character of science has been exposed in a multitude of public arenas. science studies have thus demonstrated the diversity of cognitive methods and extra­ curricular influences governing scientific practice. Indeed. and social. namely. the most imponant of my broader concerns considers various responses to making the worldview science offers one's own. political. this latter matter is structured by the ethics of research. Broadly construed. and the interpreta· tion of scientific findings as understood in the context of complex h uman needs. (2) Srimc� aspolitics. and philosophers have discounted formalism and particular logics as so much con­ ceit. These char­ acterizations resonate with the general principles of sociology of knowledge. This new view presents science as open to the same general analysis applied to other sociologies of knowledge. (3) P�rsonal knowledg�. Collectively.SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING incorporated the laboratory within a more general sociology of knowledge. humans self-consciously peer at the world-fundamentally separate and distinct. the political uses of scientific knowledge as applied in public policy. while the Two Culture division framed the debate about sci­ ence in the nineteenth century and well into the twentieth. He thus framed the basic question of the modern era. thus laying the foundation for understanding science's epis­ temology with a pragmatic eye. the older pic­ ture of science pursuing its own esoteric agenda. and a One Culture mentality has emerged to challenge the Two Culture picture of science in society. On this view. and thus the relationship of science as a social institution with its supporting culture demands citizen control of the scientific product. The tensions so evident in the social sphere operate as well at the level of the individual.

science is pan of a greater domain of inquiry. science has many r on s some of which are strictly confined to rules construed as objective c . a task largely accomplished. incorporating 0� � �� . So note. others not. . 108]). my project employs a distinctive arch itecture. This side seeks a sc•e n ce fully integrated with the larger humanistic inquiry. Indeed. the rationality and logic employed by scientists is not at issue. I think it is to re fu te these presumptions. Thus scientific thinking fre­ quently serves as the standard by which other disciplines aspire to be rational. Ernest Rutherford's quip. then "philosophy of science is philosophy enough" (Quine 1953d/1976. model themselves on the same kind of objec­ tivity one hopes to find in the laboratory. science employs one kind of objective reason-strict and rigor­ ously defined by logical rules-and other forms of inquiry must rely on different forms of reason that address the subjective.INTRODUCTION 13 ultimate question posed by modernity's preoccupation with plac­ ing oneself in an alien world-is no less than the problem of find­ ing meaning in a world devoid of enchantment. So in the adjoining room. Scientism expresses itself in at least three ways: (1) the sciences better capture "reality" than other disciplines (e. legal argument and journalism. 149). Reason �lifted. fuzzy. for E. where rea­ son resides divided between its diverse services to science and nonscience. and mobile borders. To describe these three domains. Here. On this commonly conceived division. Consider a room in the mansion of the mind. the picture science offers. 3 Admittedly this stark contrast only holds at the extremes. In shon..g. critics have largely focused their attacks on "scientism." which would inappropriately apply a scientific orientation to subjects not accessible to such methods. the very judgment of SCient ific reason has been opened to include logics constructed from vari­ ous sources and directed towards diverse ends.. Wilson. and (3) ifphilosophical problems essentially reduce to scientific problems. Not only have the domains scien ce assumed new. This chamber we will call Reason Divided. Instead. "there is physics and there is stamp collecting" [Blackett 1963. if not superimposable on. 0. science will eventually not only unify thought but reduce human behavior and culture to a biological formulation [1998]). pragmatism rules. for example. Each of these assenions rests on the fundamental notion that reality is consonant with. After all. If contemporary science studies have a general ethos. we are at the e nd of posi tivism's fall (Zammito 2004). (2) scientific methodology trumps other forms of knowing (e.g.

Second. I prefer to explore the possi­ bility of finding a common space for two communities that have too long remained alienated from each other. and modalities of knowing. Science then resides on both sides of the divide. we might replace the science/nonscience demarcation with another duality. Once we pass through the door into a larger intellectual arena. If we understand that human reason exhibits diverse logics and that science is constructed from various interests. A group of values for this venture command attention quite different from those advocated by the positivists and the most recent "defenders of science" who still hold to some form of neopositivism. The pragmatism of scientific practice describes local realities containing various objects of inquiry. A second dimension of sci· . seeking synthesis in place of insular division. once we understand a wider array of val· ues as contributing to scientific knowledge and allow them their rightful place in the calculus of knowing. or intuitive forms of reason that play their own respec­ tive roles in the work of scientific inquiry. if scientific thinking heavily weighs cenain kinds of knowledge acquisition based on objectiv­ ity (and thus is guided by cenain kinds of logical strictures and values). scientific practice follows the same general social prin­ ciples found in other forms of truth seeking.I4 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING personal and social values instead of excluding them. defining them as they are manipulated and used as tools towards finding new objects and the relations between them. On this view. nothing suggests that this form of reason necessarily trumps other herme­ neutical. we possess an expanded way of thinking about science's reason. opponunity beckons for science to join a larger menu of concerns than its traditional twin roles of supponing technological innovation and mastery of nature. which follows from the enlargement of a narrowly conceived objectivity and collapse of a rigid fact/value distinction. then the kinds of analyses that might expose those contribu­ tions seem critical for a fuller understanding of scientific thinking. and employing eclectic modes of knowing instead of restricted and narrow means of knowledge acquisition. putting science's pragmatic concerns on one side and science as part of a larger intellectual enterprise on the other. aesthetic. values. Two expansive views appear as the ponal opens: First. Contemporary science studies provides the hinge of my project that swings open the door from the first room to the second. Funher. instead of a Two Cultures mentality. As already men­ tioned.

The public character of science as a contributor to understand­ ing human nature. our basic notions of human nature and the so cial character of society derive from the scientific corpus in both obvious and silent ways. or conversely. That aspect of framing political identity suggests th at we live in an ether of science in which every breath draws from the reali ty de picted by the scientific picture of the world and human mind. we dearly appreciate how the scientific enterprise suppons liberal societies and why continued promotion of scientific research and edu:­ cation not only offers material wealth and economic prowess. as a purveyor of rational deliberations about social pol­ icy. the role of science in defining personal identity cannot be o ve r e mphasized. T0 characterize science within such a large context. we witness science applied to human problems and opportunities. expansive. After all. characterized by �� s k�Ptl�ts m ab out formal systems. Indeed. It b e ho oves us to better understand that atmosphere. wide open. and in scientific testimony. Funh ermore. facts are the semantics of such deliberations. intellectual. From this van­ tage. facts become articulated in a co mplex alignment within the particular social context in which they are employed. all embedded in a complex array of human values and intentions. frankly. Having become a major determinant of how we live and the social goals with which we grapple.INTRODUCTION IS en ti fic knowledge is. Multiple agendas are afoot in any public deliberation that might use scientific findings. Science as politics has taken form in "the boundary question. Yet within this self-conscious appraisal. and as an exemplar of the values mediating public civility show how scientific findings and application depend on the value structure in which the facts are construed and applied." Sociologists of science have convincingly shown that the boundaries circumscribing science are at least porous. notions of c ry � . and open to seeking its own place in a world framed by all kinds of knowledge and filled with h u man industry determined by several kinds of reason. scientific facts either subdy direct or grou nd a political orientation. In this second domain. scientific inquiry readily admits its socio-polit­ ical activity. and some would argue. so instead of formulating the logic of s tenufic d iscovery. but also serves as a bulwark of idealized rationality and the ethics that accompany i t . we have setded for pragmatic descriptions of scientific t o an d p ractice. but the grammar conferred by the values that interpret and configure the words (facts) create the linguistic meaning. I have adopted a p ar i ul ar viewpoint: We live in a postpositivist age.

or even in competi­ tion.16 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING objectivity and truth remain as guiding principles of scientific discourse. finds its rightful place here. to avoid the excesses and dogmatism of either extreme of Science Wars commentary. Scimce and the Quest for Meaning thus presents a description of science from two vangage points: the instrumental and the humanistic. Holding to that balanced view remains the critical issue in contemporary discussions about the character of scientific practice and its concept ual grounding. On this centrist view. next. I have four basic orientations: first. By acknowledging the wonder of nature and a search for meaning as crucial sources of scientific imagina­ tion. to present a conception of reason that opens an avenue out of the intermi­ nable debates within science studies about the nature of objectivity and neutrality. and finally. additionally. truth and objectivity have lost their Platonic status and have been brought down to earth to reside within their sociological context. I am committed to placing science within the humanistic context from which it originated. we must defend science's right­ ful epistemological claims from the assaults of radical relativists in order to confirm that truth and objectivity function. By appreciating the wide reach of sociology of knowledge. but rather complementary. This older piece of the story. my interpretation unlocks the interplay between science as an epistemology and science as part of a metaphysical construction of reality. as working ideals. so while the discussion is framed historically. at kast. Within this circumspect appraisal. In sum. to place science firmly within humanistic con­ cerns that have too often been ignored. much of what . Narrative Plan My presentation requires no background in the vast literature of science studies. forgotten or too often ignored. where they are employed as pragmatic tools. To disregard the original humanistic role of science distons its character. so the narrative is suitable for the general reader or undergradu· ate student seeking an introduction to this topic. A philosophical tack is taken here. These are not necessarily opposing. In that placement. we achieve a deeper comprehension of the scientific enterprise. we uncover a richer and more comprehensive picture of modern sci­ ence. to offer a conceptual approach for understanding science as an evolving relationship between facts and the values that govern their discovery/manufacture and applica­ tions.

Polanyi. and various theories of truth) are explicated w ith disc ursive endnotes. Indeed. The segregation of professional "natural ph ilosophe rs" as "scientists" distinguished them from their philosophi­ cal co lleagues. but cer­ tain complex issues (such as arguments about the character of realism. Their successes grew from the . which have dominated competing characterizations of laboratory research and its application since the nineteenth century. has been adopted to track the developments in our understanding of how science is con­ ducted and applied. and (3) as constitutive to the political life of Western societies. with an understanding of their complex interplay and changing relationships. And to balance this phil­ osophical survey. b roader philosophical concerns.INTRODUCTION 17 fo llows dep ends on explicating the underlying philosophies of science. As mentioned. Certain key figures-Willard van Orman Quine. at the expense of a topical approach. episte­ mological. A broad survey. Feyerabend. Chapter 1 begins with a general description of the issues discussed in this essay. and so fonh. sociological. A more global overview arises from a deeper difference than diverging scholarly methodologies can reveal. In due course the sources of these divergent views and the significance of their differences will become evident. I follow this eclectic description with a more detailed discussion of each element as narrated through their historical development. Kuhn. not only on the basis of their methodological differences. These matters include characterizing science (1) from a human­ istic perspective. (2) as a postpositivist epistemology. but a comprehensive description of positivism's history and its post-positivist successo r lies beyond my purview. due attention has been paid to the contributions of soci­ ologists in forming the dominant view of science presented below. the role of teleology in biology. which analyze science according to panicular points of view -logical. b ut al so because of the experimentalists' explicit rejection of metaphysi­ cal co ncerns (or at least so they hoped). I have assumed that the reader possesses a basic knowledge of philosophical terminology. Hilary Putnam-serve as nodal points of the discussion. Chapter 2 prese nts a ponrait of the prevailing nineteenth-century philosophy of scie n ce-positivism-which most starkly set science apan from its older. the "sociological turn" away from philosophical formalisms captures much of our contemporary understanding of science. my interpretation rests on a reevaluation of the fact/value distinction that marked positivistic science. This strategy differs from most commentaries.

idealized method. sometimes competing. This history frames the criticism directed at the prevailing philosophy held by the defenders of science who continue to challenge the descriptions offered by contemporary postpositivist science studies. In chapter 4. Sociological and intellectual divisions thus established eventu­ ally evolved into the Two Cultures of the mid-twentieth century. and their follow­ ers stormed the citadel and shoved sociological analyses in the faces of their incredulous scientist colleagues. beneath the theatrics. and in the boil of that dispute. when Kuhn. The radicals were accused of debasing the rationality that had served onhodox dogma of scientific reason for at least a century. but they brought upon the entire field of science studies the ire of laboratory scientists and their advocates.18 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING discarded subjectivity that had characterized so much of romantic science. The positivists summarily threw the baby out with the bathwater. Chapter 3 describes how the Two Cultures assumed a wildly dif­ ferent relationship with the radical critiques of science studies scholars during the 1 960s and 1 970s. In those polemics. and while much of the defense was justified. were hardly triv­ ial. This book explores their deeper significance. These "anti-science barbarians" (as they were called by some self-proclaimed defenders of science) represented a fringe of constructiv­ ist critics. these opposing positions appeared almost as cartoons. and that its discourse comprised many different. Feyerabend. Dominated by various kinds of constructivist depictions of truth claims and theory formation. even more. Perhaps still not fully appreciated is that the issues underlying these debates touch every sec- . From that position.) Differing visions held by postpositivist critics and defenders of science led to the so-called Science Wars in the 1 990s. metaphysics smacked of the subjective (understood as unsubstantiated). rational discourse. we discern a fundamental conflict in play over how to con­ ceive of science and. the more radical interpretations presented science as little more than a rhetorical agonist field of politi­ cal conflict. science studies critics claimed that science had no singular. two poles of opinion emerged: on one side. but those debates. As presented. (The philosophical foundation of their appraisals had already been set by Quine about a decade earlier. forms of reason. I ndeed. profound disturbances rose to the surface. whose hyperbole must be bracketed. we will review both the fruitful discussions and the headline-grabbing histrion­ ics. even the most modest constructivist claims were unjustly discarded.

Finally. chapter 5 presents science in its larger social an d poli tical contexts. education. science. episte­ mological and ethical. religion. development of technologies) and serving the pursuits of meaning and significance in human terms. a political and social movement. the conclusion offers a synthetic perspective in which to char­ acterize the multifarious activities we call science. I will argue that biology incorporates nonepistemic values. a more complete ponrait of science as a theory of the real." we will examine how scientific knowledge becomes "personal knowledge" (for example. e n ce. politics. the dual goals of mastering nature (i. The general notion of science as politics extends from gov­ ernment deliberations to personal understanding of scientific knowl­ edge. In order to clarify this issue we will con si der the outline of a philosophical overview that places the pursuit for meaning again on a par with the project of finding truth. a reali ty of our own. where the interplay of facts and values is amply illustrated.. and the law) wh ere the reason that governs science has been applied. The two domains. the boundaries of science are indistinct and ever changing. has been extended to environmentalism. one constructed from vari o us forms of reason and the diverse faculties of knowing that make s ct. thus must be regarded as overlapping and inform­ ing each other. I am building an integrative program.e. we will explore how the fingers of the laboratory extend throughout its supponing culture and how its lessons are applied to every reach of the social. which then allow the extrapolation from natural criteria to the moral tenets comprising environmental ethics. which only reemphasizes how the applications of scien­ tific knowledge often result in moral challenges of various sons. With this background. we will examine how the value structure of ecology. its impact on exis ten tial issues of self-identity or the relation of humans to nature).4 . a scientific discipline. In th is co ntext. Extending the subject beyond "science and religion. That discussion restates science's broad humanistic commitments to redress the imbalance resulting from the firs t agenda subordinating the second. In an extended case study. In shon. With one eye cocked towards recent political events and the other towards a wider conceptual appreciation of the intellectual endeavor called science.g.. Drawing from science's own humanistic trad ition . namely. I seek to rebalance the original pursuits of science.INTRODUCTION 19 tor of the public domain (e. emerges.

.

focusing on the c h a racter of knowledge in a narrow sense .I What Is Science? Tht point is not to stcurt ob jtctivity but to untkrstand it. knowledge di rected toward a specific object or phenomenon. in my experience � n ly the rare investigator ever entertains a conscious thought about the m o re. knowledge obtained d e fi nitions. T his b oo k argues that while science is knowled e. For instance. a very special kind of g we th i n k of ourselves as part of the social or natural universes. knowledge as a systematic account of nature. my unabridged tome offers five b y a specified method or accepted scientific principles. such considerations have fallen out o f fas h io n . each of which refers to knowledge: knowledge as opposed How a re we to understand science? I mean. Tht Crisis oftht Europtan Scimm ro ignora nce. Edmund Husser!. science. what is science? Dictionaries o ffe r succi n c t answers. that aspect of the scientific endeavor receives little tec h nical knowledge. it is more. Ironically. and this key humanistic ele­ . It is also about meaning-how scientific fi ndi ngs a n d theories become personally significant in the terms in which m � n t typically is either forgotten or never appreciated by scientists qua sc• e nti sts. who focus on their technical pursuits. In academic discussions.ness" of her research-the larger reasons she pursues her tasks. each are correc t. but they miss a key aspect of what makes science. The dictionaries omit the missing element. But atte nti o n . While o bvio usly impo rtant. Indeed.

at least since the early nineteenth century. Physical forces were imbued with some version of vitalism. We must assuredly credit the ancients for discovering certain scien· tific principles. Classification places humans within their environment. the ancients created a world order. the various theories explaining those phenomena." Everything possessed an essence. but only the origin for other. Given certain premises pulled out frorn human experience. Greeks. looked about. tides-was to follow their true character." For the ancients-and Aristotle is the key figure in that history-sci­ ence was a means to classify the natural world in terms of "natural kinds. for it is the first step in navigating the natural world. that which made it an individual. Its shyness only reflects the sorry state of its lost stand­ ing. Experimentation did not exist. science as we know it emerged only in the modern era. Chinese. more ambitious pursuits. certainly not as a test of a predictive model or theory. and Arabs were doing in their own investigations of nature. failed miserably. but also changes the play­ ing field of what the Babylonians. "modern" may well be synonymous with "science. from our moder n point of view. On this view. the world was integrated by a life force. Let us call the two visions Ancient and Motkrn. those we would now call simple mechanics. an d that was explanation enough. Things possessed essences and the nat ure of things-birds. they ask. The Ancient notion has been in retreat since the Renaissance. it has reared its head. At times during the past two hundred years. developed in com ­ petition with another idea of what science accomplished." and the child must adjust her notion of brown's essence. What humans experienced subjectively then was projected onto nature. "Is this a brown?" The parent corrects by providing another class of thing: "No. Romans. It serves as the begin­ ning. but in disguised forms. An d facts were determined by individual observation. or at least tried to achieve. This seems a reasonable place to start. But classification alone hardly suffices for science. and that life force explained everything. and then sullen ly retreated to the dusry bookshelves. where historians and philosoph ers sometimes wander. After all. which for the most part . as we watch children discov­ ering their world. Science. The older ver­ sion still resides with us. However.22 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING a deeper reason underlies the segregation of science from wider meta­ physical considerations. and more. this is a dog. meteors. an d some would argue that "Ancient Science" distorts not only what in the present we understand science to be and to do.

M uch of what I will be discussing concerns the character of facts. one based on a new kind of empirical argu­ � ent (O lson 1991). those who practiced early science were to finally ask what God's laws are-laws that not only applied in the moral domain.WHAT Is SciENCE? 13 Ecclesias tical authority reigned in the premodern era. not q n th e trib unal of empirical knowledge. What is the natu re of the universe in which humans mysteriously find themselves? How m igh t life after death be understood. and that bo dy of knowledge was derived from both revelation and scholastic argu­ m e nt . To the extent scie nce was science during the Reign of Religion. We will consider a case example in deta il below. That challenge has not always been achieved despite seemingly endless attempts to maintain stab le relations (Marcum 2003. '" a d h ow the concept of "factual" is hardly simple (Poovey 1998). but also those governi ng the natural order. re u i red no test of veracity by a committee of peers. while many still seek to accommodate the claims of reli­ gious and scientific worldviews. given what we know about ea rthly living? Where is humankind placed in the hierarchy of nature? And bas ed on this last query. O nce the question of universal law emerged. it appears that science dominates such dis cussio n s and religion has been put in the position of finding its own p l ace i n relation to the reality science has presented. science began its course towards i ts modern identity. If our contemporary society accepts an authority. again extrapolating from human experi­ ence. Indeed. l e co n . today. it • s the a uthority of scientific truth. nor for t at ma tter. For science and religion to align themselves in balance ultimately de p ends on recognizing the legitimate rationality of each and the cre­ a t ive exercise of finding mutual accommodations. Following the his­ to r ical development of science's material and theoretical successes. The Church dete rm ined theology. but rather in the abbeys of reli­ i � . the ve ry h i story of which goes hand-in-hand with the vicissitudes of defining gi ou s opinion and dogma. Authority ruled. but suffice it to note here that the various celebrated breakdowns of mutual tolerance testify to the fragility of equilibrium. and facts have very particular standing in the scientific . the s ci e nti fic enterprise has achieved independence. it served a metaphysi­ cal pu rpose: examining God's grandeur revealed in nature. H ere we find the first clue about our initial question. 2005a). a philosophical doctrine about the divine. is the orthodoxy of "scientific method" (Gower 1997) . That authority rests on the stature of e m p i r ica l facts.

fills my story. in the widest of all poss ib le meanings. where facts are used in policy debates. with the re-alignments generated by new con cep · tions of the natural world and the standing of humans in that universe. This circumspect view of facts has arisen only recently. o r in the social world. he did so on the basis of the promise of material gain-eco · nomic and military most directly. However. but she recorded those observations solely on the basis of some mechanica l measurement. Knowledge based on empiricism and its effective application for material gain effectively challenged the power of the Church. While science abdicated any formal commitments to define religious beliefs or the existential status of human beings. facts (determined by proscribed objective metho d s) claimed their standing by denying subjective bias in observation or repon of scientific inquiry. And facts. Her instruments were. cannot be exaggerated. and how to interpret them. we will see th a t their standing is persistently contested. to be sure. where facts are discovered and made . extensions of her own perceptions. In reaction against the authority of personal confes­ sional. a deeper and more profound political issue was at stake: epistemological authority. remains in the arena of disputation. let us briefly review the hard-won struggle over different kinds of knowledge that has played out historically in the larger social context. During the nineteenth century. To the extent the investigator gleaned facts from her observations. but before disabusing belief in what has been called the Legend (Kircher 1 993). The equipoise of radically different epistemologies could not be maintained and the political consequences. . the human observer was to recede into a "subject-less" recorde r (Fox Keller 1 994) . a coupled observer-instrument. This conception of sci­ entific study. became sacrosanct. Science always has had a political agenda. its rise and fall. she did so as a machine among other machines.24 Sci ENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR M EANING facts. political in the sense of claiming its legitimacy in the pursuit of its own influence and receipt of social and economic resources. nevertheless. either as support­ ing or refuting a theory. Whether a fact is a fact always remains an open question. Whether in the laboratory. a direct transmittal of nature's measure to a fact-recording device. or claiming valid j udgments about the wo rld. became the para­ gon of scientific virtue: no subjective bias could be introduced. older ecclesiastical teachings were directly confronted and the Chu rc h weakened. That machine. When Francis Bacon promoted empiri· cal research and obtained the Crown's financial backing in the sixteen th century. the products of that process.

evolu­ cies. the age of the eanh. which I trust will illustrate the major issues still in play. willy nilly. like our own .g. But the battles hardly ended then. After all. which had instructed teachers in 2004 to read a shon statement about the inconclusive status of nco -Darwinian evolution theory and suggest that intelligent design might be entenained as an alternative explanation. J udge Jones only confirmed what the voters had already accomplished by p u s hin g the errant board members back to church. etc. The case arose from a suit b ro ught by parents against the Dover school board. I was fas­ ct na ted with the arguments about God's presence or absence in nature. I can well understand how religionists regard nature with awe. by the mid-nineteenth cen­ pp a re u ry. they �a n n ot abi de placing their god outside his handiwork. so well enacted by Spencer Tracy and Fredric March. God's intelligence. � Reason in Dispute D u ring the week before Christmas 2005. Accordingly. Let us explore a recent case study. who were able to challenge re l igio us dogma with scientific evidence (e. G od's funeral was well underway and by fin de siecle. c� ptu red my own imagination as a youngster. And in that struggle. until t io n of spe essentially completed. Secularists considered that political struggle. If God is present n t th e i r daily lives. and to find co h e re nce and.). as now. li gn ed w ith humanists and then secularists.WHAT Is SciENCE? 15 Sin ce the Renaissance. sitting in t h e Federal Middle District of Pennsylvania. the judge ruled intelligent design was a ploy to bring re li g io n into the classroom and accused cenain board members of duplic­ i ty. Jones III. secularism t had cl aimed its laurels. why should he be omitted from designing the greatest o f creations. and then. scientific interpretation has challenged relii o u s au thority. Judge John E. a ntly had been vanquished. when Clarence Darrow confronted William t Je n n ings B ryan in the famous Tennessee "monkey trial. T he courtroom drama riveted the country.. The fundamentalists t h e B u sh administration. After a long trial that delved into the nature of scientific theory and the questions of what constituted scie ntific knowledge." The 1 960 movie Inherit the Wind. human intelligence? After all. the Bible describes how Adam rn ade in the image of God. science has found itself. some comparing it to h e S co pes circus of 1 925. ruled against teaching a new form of creationism in the public high school. perhaps more imponantly. rn ust have some engineering capability dwarfing even our wildest was . meaning in the cosmos. and our own era has witnessed the struggle in different guises.

aced with scientific claims like neo-Darwinism and me multiverse hypothesis in cosmology invented to avoid me overwhelming evidence for purpose and design found in modern science. (Schonborn's position is. unplanned p rocess of ran­ dom variation and natural selection-is not. while leaving to science many details about the history of life on earth . but as John Paul put it. . Any system of thought that denies or seeks to explain away me overwhelming evidence for design in biology is ideology. True believers maintain that onhodox scientists are bli nd to a deeper Reason because they have yet to see the Creator's fingers at work. including me world of living things. disputed within the Church. f. an abdication of h uman intelligence. makes no comment about God's presence or absence). blind evolutionary process. not science Now at me beginning of me 2 1 st cen­ tury. In other words. The slippage is evident: Schonborn propels his metaphysical reason. So what looked to modern-day Darwinians as only a contingent. of course. but his orthodoxy frames my discussion. the Catholic Church will again defend human reason by proclaiming that me imminent design evident in nature is real. • .) Schonborn chose to ignore the lesson Immanuel Kant taught more than 200 years �how reason must make way for f. and other option s obviously exist. that which suppons God's cosmological purpose. proclaims that by me light of reason me human intellect can readily and dearly discern purpose and design in me natural world. Evolution in the sense of common ancestry might be true. Scientific theories that try to explain away me appearance of design as me result of "chance and necessity" are not scien­ tific at all . where the preponderant scientific interpretation sees no design (and. He claimed that he was protecting "rationality" against an ideological science: The Catholic Church.2. The Dover case took on a special luster during the summer of 2005. His formu· lation provided a model by which science and religion might coexist secure . he conflates theological reason with scientific reason and trespasses the boundaries as if there were no difference. into the epistemological domain. Ouly 7 .Uth. incidentally. when Cardinal Schonborn wrote a controversial op-ed piece in the New York Times. Kant advised how to circumscribe objective knowledge and leave belief to reside beyond science's horizon. 6 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING conceptions. is in fact only understandable as an act of deliberate design. In the Critiljttt ofPurt Rtason (1787/1998). but evolu­ tion in neo-Darwinian sense-an unguided. 2005) .

being a sci­ ent ist hardly precludes religious commitments. and another without him. reas on dictates otherwise. a basis for religious belief. but ra t er the metaphysics in which reason functions. an d he would employ reason to suppon his belief. the status of secularism and the Enlightenment project. The current conflict over evolution in panicular. materialistic theory that specifi cally rests on a denial of design. Rather than provide divine presence and teleology with its own rationality. differing views of science and its role in our society. by alening the natural philosopher (now called i n th eir respective . But Kant's pluralistic option threatened those who could not claim the same kinds of cenainty science exhibited. For those who insist on God's immediate p res e nce. Science erected a neutral picture that t ilts on e way with God. Following Kant. The issue concerns the st an ding of belief. most generally. but protecting free inquiry and open interpretation remains a challenge. Sch onb orn must reject dominant scientific opinion. m ay be chaned as a set of concentric circles: disputed claims of biology. because his reasoned the­ o l ogy apparently can not accommodate neo-Darwinian blind evolution. domains. science's worldview is not necessarily incompatible with a divine presence. t he question of God became moot. In shon. and. And here we come face to face with the secular-religious tension in i t s starkest terms: Schonborn's metaphysics demands divine intervention. In a sense. c�s . Reason then becomes the tool that om e theol ogians use as a kind of universal solvent for dissolving prob­ Wi th ou t acknowledging that it is not r�ason that is in dispute. one way or another. Of course. but only one co n sistent with the best scientific interpretations. he insists on pro­ jec ti ng his faith into the natural world. He p rofoundly understood that science would not ask for. and thus would not offer. After all. as various forms of know/edg� must be differentiated from religio us convictions. consequently. one t hat employed a different kind of rationality and a different basis for judg­ men t . science may allow a divine presence. and mu c h else.WHAT Is Sci ENCE? 27 a sc ie n tist) not to probt> into areas to which scientific method had no ready access. contemporary evolutionary theory could h e i nterpreted as rejecting major assenions of Christian theology. namely the evolu­ t i ona ry findings arising from a nonteleological. arguments over the l i m i ts of the state. for each form of modern biology-from molecular biology t o soci obi ology. and. but which way the cos­ mos leans is dependent on individual choice and belief. Indeed. from the hean's beating to the brain's functions-rests o n t h e utili ty of chance events. a displacement o f a m aster divinity.

2 Both sides of the debate claim a rational discourse. the conclusions of the respective positions are irreconcilable. Stan with dif­ ferent presuppositions. But reason is not at issue inasmuch as the logic by which he argues is perfectly con­ sistent within his own system of thought. God's limitless will.G. and logical progression will bring the disputants to very different ends. The incompatibility stultifies argument because presuppositions are. Indeed. but Darwin's still lingers. concerns the char­ acter of reason and the characterization of scientific reason in particular. but what intrigues me.SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING The question of whether intelligent design might take its place in the scientific menu does not strike me as particularly interesting at this point. The classic examples are the religious disputes arising from Galileo's astronomical findings and Darwin •s theory of corn· mon descent. and indeed. a religious orthodoxy disputed the sci · ence. Each declares his basic axioms and then follows the logic of reason to some conclusion. but instead on the btli4J underlying each party's initial assumptions. scientific facts are not at issue. not in t he paniculars of evolutionary findings but in the meaning of those findings· as the Cardinal has shown. Instead. Galileo's case has been settled. sees no design. and the set of questions upon which I will focus. the debate goes unresolved because reconciliation at this level is not based on rational argument. Collingwood described them. intel­ ligent people espouse intelligent design. but rather their interpretation. but given the presuppositions of each system. So the public drama is not about science per se. The key to the Cardinal's position concerns a definition of rationality. Schonborn begins with God's presence and purpose (humans created in a divine image and living for divine resurrection) and then sees God's design imposing an omniscie nt hand on evolution (to achieve holy ends) as consistent with another basic premise. the trajectory of the quarrel takes the disputants into diverging paths because of the presup­ positions each holds. but about the metaphysics i n which science functions. In each instance. since he claims a higher rationality than the neo-Darwinists. They are the bedrock of the conceptual apparatus they suppon. The counter position begins with blind evo­ lution. so that we should recognize the instrumental · . as the intelligent design case exemplifies. I We have witnessed endless and convincing rebuttal. as R. Even if both sides acknowledge the differ­ ence in their respective assumptions. and then remains agnostic about the Divine's role in the evolution of life forms. the assumptions and guiding precepts that are closed to funher analysis or revision (Collingwood 1940).

) While scientific theory is neutral regarding the divine. a "metatheory" has supplanted the scientific one. appli ed to another. cannot consider reli­ gious claims." that is . (This "complementary" view of the nature of the science/religion relationship has been exhaustively described. Since science makes no attempt to address or listen to God. rational or otherwise. Brooke 1991. o r an other. � . But the accusations repre­ sent a profound misunderstanding. its knowledge perhaps designed for one purpose.WHAT Is SciENCE? 19 i ty o f reaso n: Science may be used by anyone. Indeed.g. metaphysical disjointedness is laid at the feet of an imperialistic science that not only defines nature and human beings in an anti-spiritual language. The "view from nowhere" (Nagel 1986) not only remains an impossible aspiration when sc ence is conceived in these human terms. but also calls into question other modes of knowing the world. the question of whether the divine exists or not is simply ofT the scientific agenda. Stcond order refers to � IR te rpretations and applications of scientific findings and theories. ourselves. We will not settle the matter by argument. God is besides the matter. What is the world? How is it organized? Where do humans fit into that unive rse? What is distinctly human? Science presents cogent "answers" in its dist inctive voice. c • e n tis ts in their technical work deal with first order business. Science does not. science cannot escape its "intention. which simply means that existence is mysterious enough to make room for both knowledge and belief.3 When the fossil record is placed within a fundamentalist reading of the Bible. God resides beyond scientific discourse. While the terms of engage­ me nt h ad been radically altered by the nineteenth century. Barbour 1997. its findings interpreted to suppon one metaphysics. th e abiding human questions that direct its inquiry. the original me taphysical inquiry remains embedded in the scientific enterprise as a s eco n d order activity. Accord ing to the critics. First ortkr refers to the direct industry of sci­ its epistemological project defined narrowly. all of us � e�c�. In a sense. H owever. its technology applied for dive rse social pursuits. the presumption also radically m is co n ceives science's own commitments.. e. I argue that science has been unfairly indicted with the respon sibi lity of ousting humans from a sheltered niche where we resided un ique in nature as privileged creatures in communication with God. and the Beyond. Ferngren 2002. understanding th e mystery that lies at ·the heart of the scientific query originates with th e very same religious questions that evolved into philosophical ones. a deeper issue lurks beneath the merits of the Cardinal's pron ouncement.

science may be employed in the positive endeavor of translat­ ing its own picture into terms that appeal to subjective needs. they largely define the human ist ic project. we are reminded that. Thus science. the more we might appreciate the sublime coherence and intricacy of the natural world and its unfathomable reaches of space and time. can the values that govern society be truly based upon. That aniculation. In a sense. That challenge lies at the base of the conflict between secularism and religious ideology. The ingenuity of scientific investigati on s exposes the wondrous workings of God's hand. In this sense. one that draws from notions of the sublime. is an ins tru­ ment to perceive the divine. and when liberal society is confronted by such expressions of dis· content as in the Dover case. The more we understand these investigations. The religious integration is thus closely linked to the aesthetic. The inttrprttation is. bu t answers to its deepest commitments of exploring nature as a response to our metaphysical wonder. Interpretation orders those facts into a construction that.4 So instead of the negative project of rejecting fundamentalist argu­ ments. or even should. The science (as facts) is not the issue. and in th eir ensuing debates. for the religiously inclined. is an attempt to place objective knowledge about the natural worl d within the broader dimensions of human experience and subjective needs. . they have used scientific theories to suppon radi cal ly different metaphysical positions. from an enlightened religious point ofview. Indeed. the world science presents cannot provide meaning th at satisfies their existential and religious needs. Second order answers have been assened by religionists and secularists for their own respective purposes. Humanism leaves the chore of defining signifi­ cance and meaning within a human construct. science not only provides the basis for technological advances. On this view. Scientific findings by themselves offer no meaning in a humane sen se. Nietzsche's challenge ("God is dead!") remains an abiding unresolved question: Can. in the final an al · ysis.30 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING ponder second order issues. humankind define its cosmos? Beyo n d naturalistic explanation. science fulfills an instrumental func­ tion far beyond its material applications. or even derived from. for a vast propo nion of Americans. reveals God. human deliberation? Can we successfu lly assert our own significance? Can we meaningfully exist without divine revelation and live in a world navigated and created by human intention s and will? These questions have rested at the hean of the secular en ter· prise throughout modernity.

Cognitive scientists have dem­ onstra ted the ability to screen out or forget data or experience conflict­ ing with more dominant belief (Hookway 2002. Many secularists (and free-thinking religionists) al so seek seamless connections between a materialistic universe governed by laws that have no personal enchantment with the various dimensions of subjectivity. Rat h er than seek a metatheory (or version of reason) to encompass each m ode of knowledge. . Freud discovered numerous defense mechanisms to hold the psyche together. sociologically. respect for intellectual and social experience of each p rac ti ce m ust sustain the rightful claims of all by appreciating that once we reach metaphysical strata there is no relative merit in scientific versus o t h e r k inds of reasons. Kant described this integrative function as reason seek­ ing its "unification" (Nieman 1994). Fauconnier and Turner 2002). Viewed in the m ost gen eral way. So the tack t a ke n h ere is guided by a sighting of reason. unity of belief. and moral. but only one of several in the employ of this integrative function. for example. with science serving as a paragon of a cenain kind of knowl­ edge . and so on) seems a universal characteristic of human life. and coherence of understanding (Thagard 2000). spiritually. To assen the legitimacy of different rationalities is not to advocate rela­ t i vis m . The fundamentalist legitimately aspires to integrate a scientific picture­ evo lu tion-with deeply held religious commitments. spiritual. T he com mon mistake admits no limits of a panicular mode of reason. human reason apparently has a basic property (one de mons trated by myriad psychological and cognitive studies) of seeking integration of experience. We seek to understand how various reasons effectively knit the world together. They do so without invoking divine intervention in the particular evolution of humans. But this is hardly a problem unique to them. that governing religion. Indeed. And metaphysicians jealously guard their presuppositions to hold t heir world together. we require a steady compass to hold our course. Each form of knowl­ edge explores and then defines the world according to its own means.WHAT Is SciENCE? 31 T hat process requires some "framing". All of these groups share the same prob­ le m but reach different solutions. the aspiration to understand in di vidual identity and "place" persons within the various natural and social worlds they inhabit (psychologically. the winds are coming from s ta rb oa rd . Let us proceed acco rd ingly . but to acknowledge that there is no single epistemology that may l ay excl usive claim to all domains of experience.aesthetic.

as it were. then what can a nonspecialist know? Or for that matter. the danger is the same. Suspicion of the scientific mission may be traced from the eighteenth-century infatuation with the Noble Savage (expressing lost innocence) to Nietzsche's celebration of Dionysus (declaring an aes · thetic liberation from a restricted rationality). . Mary Shelley's Franktnsuin lurks everywhere. and although the material benefits testify to the success of the scientific world­ view.tces the same challenge of process­ ing and integrating her own knowledge. We do not necessarily experience that reality direcdy. a looming hulk threatening us all. Faust suggests a pact with the diabolical. The implications of standing off stage. have deep repercussions as humans become voyeurs of a world in which they live. through tech­ nical means expressed in esoteric language with strange modes of logic and an obscure history. and quickly becomes a layperson when she wanders off her beaten path of study. Making knowl­ edge personal-meaningful or significant-remains then an individual's predicament. but rather understand it through some intermediary or derivative interpretation. in other words. we migh t well ask the more general question: if the reality depicted by scientific knowledge may only be grasped indirectly.31 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING A Metaphysical Quandary Knowledge offered by scientific investigations resides at several levels. how to reenchant the contemporary worldview-namely how to derive meaning and to find significance in a world devoid of human value-presents a perplexing query. According to this egalitar­ ian view. In shon. So beyond the material gains. despite the obvious fruits of scientific labor. how does the expen place her technical slice of reality into a com­ prehensive worldview? The scientist f. Romantic fears and disclaimers that such an integrative mission might be doomed to failure profoundly influences Western conscious­ ness. On this view. and whether the devil lives within our midst or within our own hearts. some seg­ ment of the natural world pictured with varying degrees of detail. a damning indictment stands for dehuman izi ng industrial cultures (Marx 1979). each of us watches the reality depicted by scientific discourse much as we might enjoy a movie: we view a version of the real. characterizing those technical applications are only one aspect of understanding science's product.5 Each attack on the insidi· ous character of scientific industry expresses a deep-seated and powerful sentiment of technological progress overpowering an essential humane component of the Western psyche.

ren t chorus has many expressions. science's red uc tion of nature to an object of study. science applications are distinguished. emanating from a deep chasm in intellectual values and Co nsider this indictment by Edmund Mishan: W'elta mchattttng dating at least from Jacques Rousseau (Marx 1964). and the unresolved status of its objecti•ed . In short. a nagging insight lingers. science lurks onward irresistibly. So while we might s • m pl y disregard Luddite critiques. along with the more charged task of adjudicating the d ' ? • c t m ent of scientific callousness.WHAT Is ScrENCE? 33 a ga i n st the pastoral (the innocent and good) has created a broad cui­ The pitting of modern science (coupled to a voracious technology) ru ral con flict. to the potential untoward effects of genetic engineering. Much of �o dern i ty's history is science. But even when science and its the nondifferentiated dismay with the excesses of technology. every manifestation of life dissected to the nth particle. Accordingly. the road back. In and its uses are generally not separated. . moving a transmuted humanity forward to the day when every throb in the universe has been charted. 1 44) Th i s epistle cannot be dismissed as idiosyncratic. ( 1 967. T h e subj ect-object dichotomy lingers well beyond the artifices of r s ea rc h and e extends to the very core of our standing in nature. Hostile commentators too often have failed to differentiate the pur­ p orted crimes of science from the social uses of technology (Proctor 1 9 9 1 ). and no thing more remains to be discovered-except. perhaps. probing ever deeper beneath the sur­ face of things. forcing entry into every sanctuary. a persistent complaint revolves around the "de-naturalization" of nature. More. ranging from the fears regarding from the disputes about human evolution. its myriad feelers p eeling away the flesh of nature. have resulted in ongoing controver­ s�c s th a t are unavoidably ideological in character. to the status of the fetus. Like some ponderous multi-purpose robot that is powered by its own in sat iable curiosity. u n i versal ized worldview vis-a-vis the subjectivity of the singular ego e m a t· ns r a critical mat ter. unified nature has been torn asun d er by a reductionist and radically objectified science that cannot p ut the fragmented parts back into a coherent whole. and the cur­ nuclear p ower. The power and urgency of the antiscience lobby punctuated the twentieth century. The efforts to discern the complex political and economic forces � u i� i n g scie nce. has been indicted with radically alter i ng humankind's intimate relationship with the natural world.

34

SCIENCE AND THE QUEST

FOR

MEANING

some integrated metaphysics governing humankind's place in nature has been displaced for many by a metaphysics of alienation. Needless to say, adopting this alienative perspective, leads to a nihilistic understanding of human's existential status. One need not subscribe to this line of tho ught to still acknowledge that the scientific worldview has presented moder­ nity with a major challenge of defining a metaphysics that success fully integrates objective pictures of nature with the personal world in which humans live as social and psychological beings. Martin Heidegger's provocative comment, "science is the theo ry of the real" ( 1 954b/ 1 977, 1 57), points us in the direction we will follow to tease apart these matters. He might have offered a more expansive definition, such as "science is a theory of reality" or "science is the quest for reality" or something allowing for other worldviews. He did not for a very specific reason: he wanted to jolt his reader to acknowledge that sci­ ence has become the dominant way of unders�ding reality, and, more to the point, other ways of knowing have lost their standing. Heidegger purposefully assigned the scientific worldview a firm hold on what con­ stitutes reality. He was a cagey fellow, and he no doubt took some delight in his attempt to entrap the unwary with his irony. More, he wanted to scandalize those who vouched for science's authenticity by declaring that picture both incomplete and distorting. That is a complex (and noto­ rious) story, but the laconic dismissal (yes, science gives us the "real,� but that picture is not really rtal or even truly interesting) points to the dilemma that frames my own consideration. So Heidegger set the terms of engagement: if science is the search for the real, what does rtal mean and to what degree that scientific reality presents a comprehensive worldview? Or put another way, if science is the theory of the real, then what is it that remains for other ways of knowing o r world-making? What is included, and, more importandy, what is left o ut? And considering that which is omitted, what is the cost of its loss? A broad­ ened position regards science as ruling or defining only one domai n of h uman knowledge and other ways of knowing are appropriately applied to discerning different aspects of personal or subjective experience. In other words, objectivity does not solely command our picture of reality, and · indeed, it can only contribute certain components to the complex mosaic of our experienced world. If one assumes this critical attitude, then the wa� of conceiving what science does and endeavors to do may radically differ from accounts of those who remain satisfied with the picture of tht rti1•

WHAT Is SciENCE?

35

su bj ective experience in a world dominated by scientific realities? Pri or to the nineteenth century, such a discussion about the nature o f sc ience as an intellectual endeavor among several competing modes of knowing did not exist, at least not as a clear alternative to positivism. The ri se of positivism not only redefined the character of reason and knowl­ edge. it simultaneously redefined reality in its own terms, Approaches which might be posed in aesthetic or spiritual terms, not only were irreconcilable with a positivist philosophy, but would have to accom­ m o date themselves to this new philosophy of science. The worlds for which science did not account were not conquered so much as bypassed. While science's epistemological hegemony affected ethics, religion, and o f co urse, the human sciences, which in turn deeply influenced social po li c i es of every kind, the most profound influence was on metaphys­ ics. Note, when Heidegger observed, "science is a theory of the real," he q u ali fi ed the epistemological standing of science by expanding the defini­ tio n of science as also encompassing m�taphysical concerns. Indeed, the latter are primary. Reality, namely, a philosophical understanding of real­ ity, comprises the m�tier of metaphysics. When Heidegger makes what a p pears to me to be a transparently obvious observation, he immediately shifts the playing field for philosophical discussions. Heidegger distinguished what science does (and the products of its doing) from the primary philosophical project to which it is commit­ ted-presenting a theory of reality. Indeed, scientific theories are the fo un d ation for ordering phenomena and thus serve as the philosophical scaffolding for the entire enterprise. (Theory is being construed loosely h e re.) Accordingly, scientific investigations, the methods and factual prod ucts, are not the sole ends of the venture. Beyond an epistemological enterprise, a more fundamental pursuit o rie nts research, namely, the development of theories and discovery of laws t h at acco unt for a distinctive way of ponraying reality. In shon, sci­ e nce pro duces epistemological as well as metaphysical statements about � a t ure. With that understanding, the primordial origins of scientific • q uiry, insp ired by the wonder of nature, are appreciated as a "theory of " t . e real that makes this ancient metaphysical calling basic and constitu­ twe to co ntemporary science. F ro m thi s metaphysical vantage, science encompasses an enlarged g nd a e a , o ne in which the scientist not only seeks to master nature, but also

sc ie nce bestows. In shon, Heidegger skeptically asks, what is the status of

SCIENCE AND THE QUEST

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MEANING

to address the original queries of the earliest philosophers: what reality is , who we are, where we are, and maybe, just maybe, how we are. Moving past the technological achievements that we derive from scientific prog­ ress, these deeply human concerns legitimate science in a context beyon d material needs, one that we might dub spiritual, aesthetic, emotio nal, existential, or just plain humane. Each of these questions arises from the conundrum of self-consciousness, a consciousness of ourselves in an alien and strange world. 6 With self-awareness, people of all time have asked these same basic questions, and science, for better and for worse, has pro­ vided its own unique answers. We may lump these matters together as entirely outside of science's concerns. In some sense, that is a correct assessment, but only if we characterize science narrowly, as nothing more than an epistemologi­ cal program. However, when we consider science as a broader form o f philosophical inquiry with deep metaphysical commitments, then, the positivist program collapses as facts move beyond the laboratory to help construct worldviews that go well beyond science's distinctive episte­ mology. Indeed, facts are always interpreted and extended within larger contexts, and "interpretation" easily slides to "meaning." For instance, what is genetic determinism and how does it affect moral responsibility? Or, given the expected rise in carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere, how would changed economic policies impact on social welfare (which, of course, depends on defining communal good)? Or, accepting current theories of evolution, where does a divinity reside, and what might it do? While science cannot directly address such questions, it remains an active panicipant in those deliberations. We could say that science frames the question and sits at the table as the moderator of the debate, albeit not always as a neutral panner. After all, scientific results by themselves cannot provide meaning, but the very character of the scientific picture often determines, and always informs, the derived answers. Whoever firs t quipped that "epistemology drives metaphysics" was profoundly correct. Science, as an epistemology, remains inextricably coupled to the exis· tential questions that define human self-knowledge and understanding. That coupling deserves special scrutiny. As we explore the idea of science, we must consider two com pet· conceptions: science as a tool to promote human well-being, namelY ing an intellectual and technological enterprise to understand and con tro l nature, and science as the framework for building existential and meta·

WHAT Is SciENCE?

37

formulations. In the first case, objective knowledge is applied to physical ke th ings or propose ge n eralizations (laws, hypotheses) about nature. ma I n the second case, facts, laws, and scientific inferences are translated into personal knowledge to place humans in nature. Earlier I referred to these as firs t order and second order concerns, respectively, but I did not mean to imp ly that "first" takes precedence over "second." Each has its mandate, and wh ile the domain of the first has a rich descriptive literature, chaning the horizons of the second requires rigorous reiteration. I maintain that, n ot on ly do humanistic interests influence science, they lie embedded in the very foundations of the scientific venture. The quest for reality is, in the end, our quest for understanding, whereby the individual knower m ust ulti mately process the universal. Obviously, material advancement is a crucial aspect of science, but the humane program, its original and abiding call, defines the commitment of discovering the world for us. Technology represents the most obvious use of science to develop human industry. "Industry" does not refer here so much to material cul­ ture as to the more general understanding of industry as the systematic labor to create value. While science generates vast material wealth, its tec hnology and resulting mastery of nature fulfill only a pan of science's in d ustrial agenda. On this view, science becomes instrumental in several senses, as an authoritative instrument for describing nature, as a powerful instrument for the technical mastery of nature, and as a personal instru­ ment for understanJing the world and navigating it. By focusing exclu­ sively on description and mastery as critical tools of the modem mind, we neglect the complementary contributions the scientific enterprise makes towards a metaphysical orientation. Part of the problem of integrating science's epistemological orien­ tati on and its larger metaphysical influences originate with positivism's ways of knowing. For positivist science to effectively achieve its goals, the investigative agent must stand back from nature and observe, osten­ sib ly from a view from nowhere. The subject vanishes, and that vacancy depends o n the Cartesian division between res cogitans and res extensa. H u mans no longer reside in nature, but rather step out and look at the u n iverse. Descartes thus defined modern consciousness arising from s pl it ti ng mind from body, and the positivists simply built upon that plat­ fo m. T heir science exemplifies humans peering at the world neutrally. � th this stance, a rift in experience divides subjective inner experience • ro m di spassi onate objective observation of the world and others. Held as

t

SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEA NI NG

a truism, science's reason appears radically different from personal j udg. ment, which operates in the ethical, aesthetic, and spiritual domai ns to mediate subjective experience. Given the Cartesian construction, this putative absolute division of subject and object provides science with its epistemological strength an d its concomitant metaphysical dilemma. The strength is the obj ect ivity conferred by the ability to detach observation (the observer) fro m t h e object scrutinized. The dilemma derives from the existential quandary that arises from separating the human subject ftom the world to becorn e a dispassionate witness o fit. This issue leads to the very roots of modern­ ism, where the observer remains outside the picture she watches, yet is compelled to refract nature in human terms. And from this unders tand­ ing a series of questions presents itself: Are we fated to peer forever a t the world self-consciously, knowing that we are spectators of nat ure as well as of ourselves? Can we bridge the division of self and the world? How does the objective stare become personal? Since science's world­ view, its metaphysical agenda, is unfinished in such terms, how do we complete it in ways that signify and make meaningful the picture pre­ sented? Specifically, if science reveals a world without value, and value is entirely human derived, then how are we to interpret nature in meaning­ ful, humane terms? Integrating the scientific worldview into personal experience and dail}· life beyond the direct material influences of technology and social polic}' challenges us to ask how science joins an assembly of different forms of knowledge and different ways of knowing (Toulmin 200 1 ). Beyond how we might understand science as an intellectual enterprise or as a cultural institution, we must reflect on the implications of having a worldview framed by science. Wor/Jview refers not only to the picture of reality science bestows, but also to the manner in which scientific thinking pro· foundly affects the way one perceives the world and oneself, indivi du· ally. To approach this general issue, we must consider how a translation occurs between the objective picture of the world and the meanings by which we signify that world. I am referring to an understanding of sc i · ence's own rationality in relation to other kinds, and in that comparison. describing where we might place the personal, subjective ways of know· ing. Indeed, how might we deliberately conjoin human-derived, human · chosen , human-centered values with those objective values that we so commonly understand as irreparably separated from these origins?

legiti­ mization of diverse forms of reason. to hold meaning and sig­ ni fi cance. deep stimulus of metaphysical desire to know the world and place ourselves within it: � The ultimate basis on which all our knowledge and science rests is rhe inexplicable.WHAT Is SciENcE? 39 Th e placement of scientific knowledge within a "web of beliefs" u in e and Ullian 1 978)-public and personal-requires faculties that (Q draw upon creative resources to integrate the objective world science resen ts with other social and subjective values. attains a cenain hue when science is idolized as a false divinity. The criteria of truth. Rather. I argue that we cannot regard science solely as some kind of separate activity for studying the natural world. as already discussed. espoused perspectives. the methods employed. a world characterized by pluralism. Therefore every explanation leads back ro rhis by means of more or less intermediate stages. as opposed to functioning as a n in st rument of human imagination. Indeed. We too must consider how to fit the scientific mode of know­ ing within the broader humanistic agenda. and is n ow re newed by postmodernism's suspicions of enduring structures. yer every­ where ir musr ulrimarely reach rhis. jusl as in rhe sea me plummer finds me bottom sometimes ar a greater and sometimes ar a lesser depth. the political authority I f u nders tood in this fashion. but also as a response to the primor­ d ial . parti c ular logics. the scientific worldview has assumed its dominant place in contemporary society through its constitutive status of defin­ ing human realities. and universal values. This inexplicable something devolves on metaphysics. 2. The challenge emerged in the early mo dern pe riod. From this point of view. cherished ideals. vol. postmodernism embraces a neoromanticism in its collec­ tive endeavor to recapture a world oriented by the multitude of human interests and human values. to cohere. 3) 5�1 en ce itself originates from the same questions that inspire both world­ VIews. became more clearly aniculated in the romantic era. and an appreciation of the commu­ nal character of individuality. (Schopenhauer 1 85 1 / 1 974. The West of today is no less challenged than earlier romantic critics by a hegemonic reason divorced from the realities of human need and value. the apparent conflict b��een science and religion cannot be about metaphysics per se because . so m e thing separated from human industry. Here. The ongoing creativity eq u i red to make the world whole. we must understand the technical mastery of nature not only as a Baconian fulfillment of material advancement and mastery of nature.

positivist philosophers were even disallowing such metaphysical questions as "nonsense" and not wonhy of analytical deliberation at all (Frank 1 949. unproven. belief is divorced from objective knowledge and can claim legitimacy only within its own private sp�ere. Nothing less than the truth was redefined in the process. Referring back to our earlier discussion. In shon. highly circumscribed fashion. and therefore valid only on its own grounds. metaphysics cannot so easily be dismissed. some questions were not answerable and therefore irrelevant to the scien­ tific agenda. Ayer 1 952). By the 1 920s. M uch merit supports this thesis. which ties together this dis­ cussion and thereby also draw some conclusions: Good reasons abound as to why the original. which would suppon their own phi­ losophy. So. The answer.40 SCIENCE AND TH E QUEST FOR M EAN I NG of each. The practitioners and philosophers of science embraced positivism and thereby discarded the assembly of metaphysi­ cal and existential questions that their science either totally ignored or chose to answer in its own. they pitted science's empirical objectivism against a religiosity that rested on metaphysical speculation. to be fair. and even the positivists embraced a metaphysics. as opposed to empirical facts. Of course. and such belief becomes an individual truth category-subjective. they were addressing the metaphysics of religion and other belief systems whose forms of knowledge rested on opinion or revelation. the ongoing debates about the relation of sci· ence and religion are directly traced to this fundamental standoff over what one can say about metaphysics if one cannot prove a metaphysi· cal statement scientifically. fall s into the domain of personal belief. . Claims to some universality must be abandoned. Some would main· tain that the positivists assened a new onhodoxy and flung the pendulum too far from center. der holds both approaches to the same line of inquiry. One constellation of answers revolves around the prac ti cal results of science's epistemological enterprises. but the constellation of primordial human won . but we should not lose sight that they regarded them· selves as fighting the same basic battle marking the legitimacy of scien· tific thinking against the religious: Simply. deeper meaning of science has been deliberately obscured. radically differ. at least by the rules of science. let us consider a conceptual schema. failing scientific scrutiny. and others were recast to conform to its worldview. Simply put. Those successes see m to depend on the eclipse of subjective and metaphysical contaminants that would conspire against the ideals of objectivity and neutrality. However.

In this sense. while scientific knowledge has become constitu­ tive to the way we think of the world and ourselves. the epistemic ones-parsimony. For over five centuries. and future promises.WHAT Is SciENCE? 41 On ce the claim for divine judgment is dismissed in the secular court f adj udication. Science and Its Values The technical character of science obscures how science resides in a much larger social forum than the laboratory. the place o f science in Western societies becomes a means of reframing the humane questions that sponsor science. In that synthesis. the application of such standards to all as pects of human thinking must fail and a more integrative strategy must b e sought for addressing matters beyond the particular confines of scien­ tifi c inqui ry. we are better served by conceiving of science as a tool to help co mpose pictures of reality that must be coordinated with other belief system s. . for science has largely defined what con­ o s tit utes knowledge-objective truth-and more specifically. what is a foct as opposed to an opinion. the dictionaries are correct: sc ie nce is about true knowledge. those understandings are tempered by personal experience and interpretation. and transparency (at least ideally). is value-laden. U nderlying these two components resides a commitment to scrupulous Baconian impartiality and Galilean neutrality (Lacey 1 999). and even redirect current concerns over scientism to a more measured appreciation of science's accomplishments. the matter sits. current inquiries. and in this moral realm sci­ e nce fram es its epistemological character. these are b ed on science's own moral code of open inquiry. pluralistic discourse. one's search for existential or psychological understandings). These values co m prise the bedrock of science's ethics. the received view of scientific investigation has highligh ted how a methodology of discovery and verification that cou­ ples a uniquely rigorous empiricism to a critical rationality has evolved. While methodologies of the laboratory and their products have captured the most interest. and some values. However. When science is viewed with this larger view in mind. or even the university or industry. So instead of promissory notes based on expected scientific p rogress. as fal li b ili ty. systematic knowledge of a sort not casu­ ally fou nd nor applied. In other words. Science's epistemology. in fact . the objectivity of scientific pursuits couples with various forms of subjective judgments (both in determining social policy in a political context and on a personal level.

science serves as a paragon of certai n virtues society holds in high esteem: it is pluralistic and nondogmatic (i. And as an ethical system. This social appraisal is.. and definitions.) The most obvious expression of this moral-epistemological alliance is found in the discursive mores governing the open discussion of investiga­ tive findings. ("Moral" in the sense used here refers to value broadly understood. diverse perspec· tives converging on a common assessment.) Indeed. the shared experience is crucial and confers the final criteria of objectivity. namely. Good and bad are values. by definition. n. Conflict of interest between t h e apparent independence (read neutral and objective stance) of the invest i · gator and the material advantages derived from rewards ofcorporate profi! l have raised disturbing questions about the correct relationship betwee! private gain and public-supponed research institutions 1\Dd their facul� coherence. more insidious ethical dilemmas have developed over t h e past thiny years as a result of the growing intimacy between industry an d academic research (Greenberg 2007). predictability. the free inquity about inter­ pretation. . see Introduction. alternatively. These parameters of discourse are based on the honesty of the participants. practices. In this regard science is a bulwark of liberal. This might be achieved through direct experiment in multiple labo­ ratories or. Simply casting science as a social activity confers a moral dimension to its charac· terization. which are then subject to review and criticism. a synthesis if you will . that is. honesty is assumed as a simple epistemological requirement. This thesis. ethical inasmuch as the social is ethically constituted by particular rules. we must be wary of confusing its ostensible and largely attained moral goals with the exceptional cases of dogmatic . The ethics of science are inseparable from science's forms of know). and the transparency of experimental reports. the comparison of data. democratic society (Menon 1 973). Private experience cannot become a public fact until scrutinized by a community of observ­ ers. as well as integrating of criticism as part of its very code [Popper 1 945. In respecting that science does indeed seek truth by such principles. and so on-have been shaped by a deeper set of values governing science's rationality.e accepting. I have called a moral tpistnnobJgy (Tauber 2005a). detracting. (For more on epistemic values . However. though a more pragmatic orientation has replaced the positivist ideals. 1 963]). but so are objectivity and neutral­ ity. indeed.SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING attitudes or fraudulent practices that threaten to subven the ideal. In either case. the ethical edifice still stands strong. 1 . through reports of investigations. edge.

be fo re facts. th e rol e of nonepistemic values in scientific inquiry and evaluation. While hardly a novel relationship. I suggest that. namely as placing facts with in encompassing conceptual theories or models. have introduced an entrepreneurial overlay on the pursuit of truth for its own sake. the values of science command the character of kn owledge. These financial concerns represent only an aspect of the larger ethi­ cal framework in which scientists conduct their work. effectively establish . both in its production as well as its application. and. Indeed. Typically. meticulous con tracts and offices of "technology transfer" which mediate the finan­ cial relation ships between these various interests as patents. Schwanz 1995). for vinually anything generated in the laboratory m ay promise financial gain to the investigator. Given the cen­ trality of the ethics of how scientists govern themselves as truth seekers mzd how the moral dimensions of the scientific worldview reflect the interpretation of scientific knowledge in a framework oriented by human need. venture capital. ethics is understood as establishing and guiding the foun­ ba t t o ns of scientific practice and interpretation. Sc ientifi c research can no longer be segregated into simple "pure" and " ap pl ied" categories. and university research. � . we would do well to consider science cast in a moral framework. the mores of scientific conduct. d O n th is view. Just as values guide the h avi o r of moral agents. For now. suffice it to note that the ethics of research go far beyond the domain of honesty in generating and reponing investigative results. finally. We will reexamine this matter in chap­ te r 5 . so too do values guide the practice of scientists. before theory.WHAT Is SciENcE? 43 (Ko rnberg 1995. Here. where commercial efforts complicate the innocence of exploring nature. moral is considered broadly: the rules that define objectivity and differentiate knowledge from opinion. the study of nature extends well into the " b usiness" of scientific research. the larger ethical context of scientific knowledge applications. having followed a winding historical path. In this widened moral context. l e ru l es. th e personal dimensions that would integrate science's worldview with ex i ste ntial understandings and beliefs. and profit-sharing. With the growing alli­ an ce of industry. p h i losophe rs of science see this exercise more narrowly. the �·al ues ofscience and the values using science place investigative findings I n t he on-going construction of social and individual realities. licenses. the in ti macies of laboratory investigators and their financial supponers have b eco me more complex as private capital has increasingly supplemented governm ent suppon for research.

And. scien ce has often suffered a blurring of those boundaries (Pickering 1 994). science itself. not surprisingly. Judson 2004). we cannot d if­ ferentiate scientific conduct from other forms of inquiry. 1 7 1-209) and personal advancement generally is a constituent of professional life. scientists naturally pursue their own best interests by promoting funding for their projects (e.. in la rge measure defines science. After all. These are not just conventions. with unpredictable consequences for both governing scien· tific conduct and the direction and speed of its future growth. This moral posture presents science as an ideal · ized venture towards truth and thus may be understood as representing a core human ideal toward which our society must aspire (Cohen 1 974). Greenberg 1 967. with its distinctive so ci al mission. While recent attention has focused on scientists breaking the eth i· cal code.g. the standing of science as a model of eth ical behavior puts its practitioners in a particularly hot moral spodight. such breaches of trust occasion self-righteous indignation and attacks on sci­ entists' authority (Greenberg 2003). some stretch the standards of ethical behavior. open exchange. The public natute of scientific practice has raised new con cerns regarding research fraud. Chubin 1 990. Bulger. indeed. That self-interest remains operative should sur­ prise no one.g. public mistrust aris­ ing from various celebrated cases of scientific misconduct has threatened the scientist's autonomy (e. slip­ page between the cup and the lips occurs often enough to conclude that scientists are hardly immune from human foibles. Nevenheless. and Reiser 1 993). Although no reliable statistics exist.' These new concerns for accountability have challenged the very ethos of scientific practice. However. Heitman. rising public awareness of research fraud threatens the very legitimacy of science (Lafollette 1 996. their normal conduct has contributed a consistent moral les· son to Western society. Thus we see a vivid example of science's blurred boundaries in government action imposed on research institutions to ensure trustwonhy research (Chubin 1 990). Needless to say. science promotes a kind . Accordingly. but rather instantiate the lessons learned of how best to accomplish the local tasks at hand. and rigorous standards of rationality. Offering a model of both knowledge and ethics. as do any pro­ ponion of humans arrayed on the ethical spectrum. Indeed.44 SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING the groundwork by which scientists proceed in their particular proj ects . Society's ever-increasing investment in scientific pursuits has altered the relationship of esoteric knowledge and public access. Funhermore. without the particular values of scientific practice and assessment..

Science becomes a dominating influence in mo l di ng epistemology well beyond the laboratory. but actually serves as � . affecting all forms of kn owledge production and adjudication of evidence (e. as citi­ zens) . where a naive positivism commands Truth and Reality. influence the mo ral structure in which we regard our personal identities (e. Claims for how science might contribute a valuable core of objectivity to ethics have hardly been accepted in all quaners where the a ttem pt to attribute a special truth ethic to science has itself been subject to reassess ment. why should science's governing epis temologies hold a privileged moral standing? Si nce Reichenbach's claims advocating logical positivism. notions concerning human nature and social structure derive fro m interpretations of scientific findings.g. in turn. and. with appreciating the basis of logical choices in the ethi­ cal domain.g. and that the same general cultural rules that direct other o mplex cultural institutions also govern science (e. closely related. in the broadest sense. science poses for us t h e frontier of new problems and new circumstances for old problems. Those who see the fall of science from its domineering pedestal. Indeed.WHAT Is SciENcE? 45 � a p a ragon of discourse in liberal societies. Pickering 1 992). sci­ entific investigations offer "the data of ethics". he moral theme then closely aligns with the revisionist epistemological o f rno ral activity that might appear unique to itself. the ethics of scientific investigation serves as a model for societal behavior and truth seeking. the judiciary).. has provided us with rigorous criteria for discerning the limits of knowledge and. ultimately. with all of its problems concerning objectivity and realism. the scope and limits of responsible moral choice.g. from Baco n to Kant and beyond. Th e intersection of science and ethics is easily traced from the orii n s of Western moral thought in Hebrew and Greek sources. argue t hat science's posture relative to directing moral inquiry must be regarded w it h suspicion: how can science be neutral if scientists are self-evidently social creatu res with political and psychological biases? While science st ill holds a pivotal place in Western societies.. F u rth er. which. This intimacy is evident throughout modernity. where heo ries of knowledge and theories of ethics were not only analogous b u t closely linked. it has increasingly suffered assaults to its privileged standing. scientific achievements determine.. The deeper lesson from what Hans Reichenbach called "scientific philosophy" ( 1 95 1 ) is that the struggle to achieve a scientific worldview. science s tud i es have fueled the opinion that science is very much like any other soci al activity. Scientific methods may provide a logic for moral discovery.

we see that faas may lose their clear demarca­ tions in the natural sciences as well. Not only h:· the independent status of facts been radically reappraised. and yet o th­ ers from panicular legal. com. munal agreement underlies any notion of objectivity (e. or even its aspirations. Instead of some positivist ideal o f dispassionate. science never stood alo n• in an objective chamber insulated from the social pressures surround· ing research and theory. This aspec r of science's ethics is most evident in the normative sciences. the interface of human need is imposed on the putative neutrality of scientific inquiry. although this is highly relevant to this discus­ sion. that is. Some of these values derive most direcdy from social practices.g. that is. Here. Kukla 2000) . wh i cl· are seen as contaminating objectivity.g.­ application confers the objectivity sought by investigators. Overtly (or subtly) influen ced by its cultural milieu and moral environment. political. Latour 1 987. Knorr Cetina 1 999. I am not referri ng to how knowledge is valued. 1 988. others from a system of metaphysics. and the complex interplay offaas and values issues a challenge to defining objectivity. Megill 1 994).t· . Instead of the various attempts to dissociate faas from values. After all. we have come to understand t h. detached scrutiny. Recogniz i nf this complexity has provided a heightened awareness of how science rna� be co-opted by politics and ideologies. and Savigny 200 1 ) and em b ed­ ded in social groups as a reservoir for use and identification (e. the life sciences. The implications for the medical sciences are self-evi den r (Tauber 1 999a. for knowledge is social. Knorr Cetina. chapter 1 ). Showing how science is so embedded does n(l! diminish science's own accomplishments. but when the fact/value distinction is more broadly understood. and thus the second moral dimension of science as a moral epi ste­ mology penains to the values embedded in knowledge . that is.8 M o r• those values do not reside in some Platonic ideal domain from wh ich t h . science as a human acti vit) demands values to define itself. fa. which evaluate functions as fulfilling cenain teleological criteria (see chapter 5). but rather how values are embedded in knowledge itself. so much as highlight how isolating science from what is typically regarded as i r· competitors distorts science's own character.SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR M EANING picture. knowledge is constituted by social practice (Pickering 1 992... facts are facts because of the values that confer a factual status. a normative spectrum is inseparable from scien ti fic descriptions. but beyond these particular issues.. Nelson 1 990.. and moral philosophies. 2005a. The definition of "social" focuses much of current debate about sci­ ence's truth claims and the status of its knowledge (Hacking 1 999. Schatzki. Kusch 2002).

actu­ 1 a ave enormous impon. their meaning and significa nce are determined by the context in whi � h t_hey are formed." by adopting what appears to be the simplest. The notion of an insular "fact" belies how facts are so comingled with the values and theories in which they are embedded that to disen­ ta ngle the relative roles of these suppons becomes a highly convoluted. These are what Putnam calls "action-guid­ i n g" terms ( 1 982). sometimes the other. the most parsimonious. Chosen and developed. diff texts.WHAT Is SctENCE? 47 b ecome facts because of the values attached to them. In shon. This position argues th a t a relaxation of the rigid fact/value dichotomy recognizes that science conti n ually evolves diverse value judgments regarding its own practice th a t are never steadfast. we can no 1 1 n ger Utter 1y separate facts from the values that suppon them. or elegant. and the understanding of science-from its institu­ tion al-political commitments to its various determinations of human com­ prehension of the world and human character-can not be apprehended without some basic appreciation as to how values frame everything. or coherent�ualities which themselves are values. The attempt to restrict coherence and simplicity to predictive theories is self-refuting. as a result of recent reassessments.9 T hese co ncerns.' we h ave associated with an objectivity that escapes the vicissitudes of P eJ ! r ud i ce and bias. sometimes one is given up. which is righdy considered a paragon of rationality and prog­ res s. both within the laboratory and outside. values are constitutive erent values determine how we understand facts in more to the point. So much of what we generally understand ly a s s c• e n ce. final method exists to define fact/value relationships. by d ispelli n g the intellectual hubris of the scientific attitude. and. and employed. and sometimes irresolvable. to facts. No formal. the vocabulary of justification. represents the over­ ri ding characteristic of postpositivist science studies. When theory and fact con flict. facts cannot be separated from the values various con wh i ch embed them. The very logic required even to argue such a case d e pe nds on intellectual interests unrelated to prediction as such. seemingly restricted to philosophy of science. Simply stated. we are left wit h a m ore dynamic. albeit less formal. In shon. But if. but always changing in response to new demands a n d contexts. app raised. endeavor. the comrn o n u n de rstandings of neutrality and objectivity teeter. also historically con­ d iti oned and subject to the same debates concerning the conception of ra tio nality. understanding. they hardly stand stable. and the choice as often as not is made "aesthetically. The next four � . Thus the blurring of the fact/value dichotomy.

ation has been represented and misrepresented.SCIENCE AN D THE QuEST FOR MEANING chapters describe the dispute arising from the crisis over objectivity-why the deconstruction of objectivity attained prominence. tions. . namely the philosophical claims of the nineteen th­ century positivists. how that reevalu. and where the critiq ue elucidates the wavering line between scientific knowledge and its appl ica. We begin with the idealized view of objectivity from which all later criticism diverged.

The world looks vny bare and cold. and . Instead. t1 ra sca ences to the human sciences (sociology. The debate expanded beyond the walls 0 · .2 Nineteenth-century Positivism lf'e have lost aU uvermufor the stall'. n a u I . The oldfaith is gone. .h P ogy [ S mith 1 997. and. Ralph Waldo Emerson. we have lost our spring. . by the end of the century. lc � .v. whose ascendancy in the nineteenth century eventually defined �l': lt�. l . T his picture of science was formally understood as a philosophy. o t 'ci e n ce that mimics the aspirations of a nineteenth-century ideal. � 1 d e sc a ences soon followed. the new loitm on its way. But we pay a great pricefor thisfreedom. anthropology.•fl c practice based on methods developed for the physical sciences. intellec1 " ·' e bate sw ar1 ed around how appropriately to apply the standards of · .r// reverencefor the Church. . ·. It is merely our boardinghouse.. "The present age" J Beyo nd the appalling scientific illiteracy of the American public resides p rofou n d igno rance about the nature of scientific institutions and the P'� l i ti cal infrastructure of research. 1'1' ''"t. theory construction. 2007] ). We have lost our Hope.u�d a l l the rest that goes into scientific practice. it is also republican. We have lost . We have great contnnptfor the f superstitions and nonsense which blintkd the ryn o aUforegoinggmerations. not to speak of a lack of understanding o l w ha t co nstitutes contemporary scientific method. most hold a view !''(•lftl:ism. That 1d�al wa s based on a characterization that presented scientists as a new pn�s t h o o d in servi ce to the pursuit of truth derived from radical objec­ . . .

50

SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING

of the universities to include concerns uttered by humanists, theologian s , and other skeptics as to what might restrict the dominance of sci en ce over other modes of knowing. And perhaps most importantly, all migh t well have wondered in what ways this scientific vision of nature defin es reality (as already discussed). These issues defied simple responses the n and now. Positivism consists of four major precepts: ( 1 ) nature might be observed without distortion of human cognit io n, which depends on a notion of objectivity that requires a radical separation of observer from observed, so that no subjective values are allowed to play in the gathering and analyzing of data; (2) facts emerge from data, and those facts may be assembled into models and theories, which are then tested; (3) reality is integrated, and scientific methods can be applied to study all phenomena-physical, organic, psychological, and social-by the same objective means; (4) progress characterizes scientific pursuits, and faith in that progres· sion promises evermore comprehensive laws of nature. At least , so it was thought. Accordingly, from facts determined by objective methods, scientists derive hypotheses that are closely examined by experimentation. They then place these hypotheses in some ordered construct, which, in turn. is formalized in predictive theories more successful than previous ones. Several assumptions in this formulation require mentioning. The first is that the inductive scheme by which individual empirical observations are generalized "presupposes metaphysics. " Alfred North Whitehead aptly referred to this basic presupposition, "an antecedent rationalism" {Whitehead 1 925, 62). The method based on this assumption obviously "works," in the sense that such inductive reasoning has met with hi gh success, but as David Hume noted with suitable skepticism, why it wo rks is not logically self-apparent. A second profound metaphysical assumption builds on the linger­ ing Aristotelian notion of natural kinds and the "thing-hood" of nature' s objects which science examines. These entities are assumed to ex ist a s contained within a simple location of placement (Whitehead 1 9 25. 69-70) , which, in turn, depends on a particular understanding o f the space-time continuum. Twentieth-century physics radically uptu rn ed

NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVISM

51

universe of discrete objects existing in fixed coordinates of space and ri me. Th is is important for our discussion because, with a simpler mecha­ ni s tic ph ilosophy of physics, "the real" is effectively localized and cap­ t ured as objective entities. Such "things," waiting in nature for human di scove ry, Whitehead called the "Fallacy of Misplaced Concreteness" ( 1 92 5 , 72), by which he meant that the abstract descriptions of nature a ri sing from modern science have paradoxically been conceived as con­ c re te real ities. In other words, what we might consider as things extracted ( an d ultima tely abstracted) from nature are artificial constructs of our met hods and interpretations. For Whitehead, a more precise description wo u ld acknowledge that "things" behaved more as "processes"--emerg­ ing, evolving, and, most importantly, only captured as "things" upon hu man measurement and abstraction. This picture of reality originated in rhe revolutionary findings of quantum mechanics, where the so-called ··measurement effect" essentially froze reality upon human intervention (observation, measurement, assessment). (Paradoxically, a particle only exis t s in one place or another once measured, otherwise it may be "some­ w h ere else." Only by looking, does the particle find its place!�) Whitehead ex t ra polated the significance of such human interruptions to the macro­ worlds of non-atomic physics and the life sciences, where he saw the dis­ covery of entities as actually the construction of things, frozen in their peculiar fashion by the scientific methods of examination. He thus hoped mechanistic physics would yield to a science of process. While Whitehead's "process philosophy" has yet to generate a direct infl uence on contemporary science, he (and others) did open the door to a n ew line of philosophical criticism. Positivist philosophy had asserted that investigations yielded facts, which in the everyday world of research meant t h at natu re's objects and processes were independent of human interac­ t i o n . With the quantum revolution, that position no longer could claim
a

Positivists held that our picture of reality appeared as if humans did participate in the process of discovery, when in every sense, humans made facts, albeit from natural phenomena. Their fundamental conceit a sserted that the objective data collected and facts sifted had expunged t he h u man factor to reveal the world as it really exists. Accordingly, h u rnan in tervention leaves nature essentially unperturbed, at least to the e x ten t th at objectivity yielded things as they were in fact. But quantum m ech an ics showed that this was not the case, and more generally, any
no r

legi timacy.

51

SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING

intervention carried an entire set of interpretative problems. So the ch at . lenge presented by the most fundamental physics up-turned positiv ism 's third critical assumption, the radical objectivity in which facts are con. ceived. Besides the older concern of how objectivity might be com pro. mised by "subjective" values, the positivists now had to consider a sci en ce that fully acknowledged human presence and factored in human observa­ tion. The implications were difficult to over-estimate. In many respects, the impact of quantum mechanics represents t h e critical turning point in positivism's fortunes, and to appreciate the sig­ nificance of this reappraisal, let us briefly review the older position s. I n the nineteenth century, positivists had effectively invoked critical dist inc­ tions between scientific facts and the values that threaten to contamin ate them. In short, facts and values resided in split domains. This splitting of facts and values did not include the value of objectivity, which in its nineteenth-century form became the cardinal precept of the positivists. For them, objectivity radically replaced the personal report with o ne written in a neutral voice and a universal perspective, or, in other words. a report that might have been written by anyone given the particul a r setting and circumstances of the investigation. Thus, because true knowl­ edge possessed no individualized perspective, a community of observe rs would warrant the findings. Agreement on the significance of a findi ng testified to the veracity of the facts under discussion, and then the signifi­ cance and meaning of the facts might be discussed. In the end, a hypot h ­ esis, or even a theory, would emerge. Universal accessibility and a vie\\ from nowhere (i.e., independent of personal bias) became the key cri teria of a new science.2 This move from the private sphere of experience to a communal u n i· versal had begun at the dawn of modern science, but in the mid-ninetee nt h century this ideal of truth became clearly enunciated as a scientifi c prin· ciple. The positivists' position comes from David Hume's famous eigh· teenth-century proclamation that one cannot infer an "ought" from a n "is." This means simply that a moral case cannot be deduced from a n at· ural fact. The critique is sometimes referred to as Hume's Law, wh i c h attacks the apparent rationality of various ethical or religious posit io n s. · We can trace the later attempt to radically separate facts and val ues ttl. Hume's original argument against the illogical deduction of religious beli e! from natural facts and morality from similar constructions derived fro nt natural law or other systems of supposed rational basis (Putnam 2002).

NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM

53

asp i rat ion of objectivity, that is, facts divorced from contaminating per­ Much of nineteenth-century philosophy of science and the sonal values. ti ce it guided was based on extrapolating Hume's cardinal insight; prac pos itivis m success fully rejected subjectivity, which tainted the pursuit of "true knowledge." Indeed, the distinction of scientific facts and corrupt­ i ng subjective values represents the crucial positivist distinction. The status of facts in the modern scientific context dates to Francis Bacon's endeavor in the early seventeenth century to replace metaphysics with the concrete, the datum of experience. As Lorraine Daston notes, th e word "fact" derives from Latin focere, "to do," and in the sixteenth century, the word still meant an action or deed. The critical Baconian distinction was that facts offered neither "consensus nor freedom from all bias, but simply freedom from theoretical bias" ( 1 994, 45, 47). Daston maintains that facts became the focus of scientific discourse because they shifted attention away from the more contentious wrangling over rival theories, thus a social norm fashioned scientific practice:
Since the academicians believed that paniality to one's own theories and opinions was the apple of discord rolled in their midst, the kind of impar­ tiality they sought was impaniality to theory. . . . Therefore, the purpon­ edly theory-free Baconian facts suited their purposes perfectly, despite their other obvious disadvantages. Thus did objectivity come to be about the impanial exam ination of neutral facts. (Daston 1 994, 57)

afield , but the salient point is that his philosophy supported the scientific

t io n s, needs, and caprices that are rationalized into religious dogma and rno ral justifications (Lindley 1 986). Developing that issue takes us too far

He argued instead that eth ics and religion are grounded in human emo­

Th e status of objectivity depends on multiple components fitting � o ge the r. The first concerns the status of the observing agent. The In ven tio n of classical perspective in painting during the fifteenth cen­ t u ry serves as a ready metaphor for the birth of modern science inas­ rn u ch as a self-conscious position is assumed to survey the world (Fox Kell er 1 994). Take a singular position, hold it, and then report what is o bs e rved, objectively. And j ust as painting assumed its particular styles 0 tran s mission, so did the language of the newly emerging objectified s c en e. The scientific rhetoric thus adopted a neutral language, which t c r e ted the c self-conscious separation of the observing subject from the 0 . J ec t of study to describe an objectified world, an established autho­ r t a l a th u ority , and, fi nally, a "cleansing [of] the lens of perception"

��

54

SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING

(Gergen 1 994) . Each rhetorical device, again, those being a detach ed observer and a neutral language, contributed to generate a radical sense of objectivity.4 In one sense, the idea of the detached observer was the first step i n accurately assessing nature, but an even more radical rupture of subj ect and object was required. The task of modern science was first to stan ­ dardize observation and then to eradicate the observer altogether in the quest of a complete elimination of the subjective dimension. By focusing on experimental procedures, Roben Boyle effectively propagated a shared research program, which generated a "multiplication of the witnessi ng experience" (Shapin and Schaffer, 1 985, 488).5 With public demonstra­ tions and the enlistment of other scientists, Boyle's rhetoric of reports emphasized the observed facts and described experimental procedures i n great detail (vinual witnessing). The singular subjective observation was thus cowitnessed and translated into a shared public objectivity through the machine's results. The disjunction of subject from observation was hardly complete, however, and for objectivity to assume its curren t meaning of being "a-perspectival," extensive rhetorical refinement an d the development of statistical analyses in the nineteenth century we re required. Standardized equipment and techniques universalized scientific practice so that the first person repon could be replaced by a universal anonymous one. The scientist assumed this voice and became an author­ ity of how to achieve an objectivity that would leave the human only as a machine among machines. This was the positivist ideal, and this new persona carried profound implications and many denials. Constructed in opposition to the romantic era view of the worl d. which privileged the individual's perspective and subjective experien ce . positivism denied any cognitivt value to value judgments. Personal ex pe­ rience, positivists maintained, cannot be extrapolated into a scien ti fic description. "Noble," "good," "evil," or "beautiful" are qualities of m e n or events, and while such adjectives may be applied to nature, in doi ng so, a projection of human sentiment is ass igned to the phenomenon. I n direct reaction against the romantics, positivists sought instead to radical ly objectify nature, banishing any and all human prejudice from scien t i fi c judgment. The total separation of observer from the object of obse r\'a­ tion-an epistemological ideal-reinforced the positivist disavowal 0 1 value as part of the process of observation. One might interpret, bu t such evaluative judgments had no scientific (i.e., objective) standing.

NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosJTMSM

55

The romantics deeply understood (and resisted) the hegemony of the asce n dant positivism, and they placed imponant caveats on the positivist a p p roach to nature on both epistemological and metaphysical grounds. F ro m their perspective, each inviolate observer held a privileged vantage, and they jealously protected this vision (Tauber 200 1 ). Simply put, where rh e romantics privileged human interpretation (exemplified by anistic i m agi nation ), the positivists championed mechanical objectivity (data de r i ved from instruments, e.g., thermometer, voltmeter [Daston and Galison 2007]). A common understanding dating to the nineteenth cen­ rury portrays the scientist as vanishing, absorbed by her machines. As a simple reponer of her instruments, the subjective element is supposedly eliminated. But if one steps back from the persona of the scientist as a social entity and attempts to ponray her as subsumed beneath the epis­ temological demands of the view from nowhere, a "paradox of scientific subjec t ivi ty" emerges (Fox Keller 1 994). This refers to the ostensible goal of a completely detached observer, one independent of subjective foibles and prejudices, whose conclusions come from "somewhere else." For positivist science, facts (of a cenain kind) were to reign supreme. The argument between positivists and their critics, a debate revolving around the standing of facts, has framed philosophy of science debates inro o ur own era. To funher understand that history, we begin with the tl rs r c l ear separation of these vying conceptions of science.

The Argument
A t t h e end of the eighteenth century, Johanne Wolfgang von Goethe d evel oped a sophisticated philosophy of science that in many respects served both the later positivists and their detractors. Goethe, rejecting th e

�rom ve ry different tenets: Facts become facts because of their suppon­ m g t h eo ry, which orders the observed phenomenon and conceptually �efl n es their meaning. Reciprocally, the facts suppon the theory, which
a t e

�vas o ffered as a warning about the complexity of objective knowledge. r h e synthe tic project of building a worldview proceeds dialectically, but

re s id e in dependent of a theory or hypothesis that must suppon them. H i s p recept that "everything factual is already theory" (Goethe 1 998, 77)

allu re of a radically objective science, appreciated that facts do not

1�

process that continues with integrating that scientific picture within b roader and less obvious intellectual and cultural contexts in which

s6

SciENCE AND THE QuEsT

FOR M EANING

the larger conceptual apparatus is situated. Thus he argued that facts , as independent products of sensory experience, are always processed­ interpreted, and then put into some overarching hypothesis or theory. In shon, observations assume their meanings within a panicular contex t, for facts are not just products of sensation or measurement as the positi vis ts averred; rather, they reside within a conceptual framework, which places the fact into an intelligible picture of the world.6 Of course, Goethe understood the potential danger of subjective contamination of scientific observation, and, more to the point, the ten u­ ous grounds of any objective fact that relied in any way on interpretatio n . The concept of interpretation stretches from inference to direct obse rva­ tion, for any perception must ultimately be processed to fit into a large r picture of nature and must cohere with previous experience. Moreover, in recognizing the claims of positivism, Goethe countered that the place of the observer in scientific discovery could not be completely omitted . Indeed, he embraced this faculty of judgment, broadly construed, as both the source of creative insight as well as a regulative faculty of great impor­ tance to the scientific venture (Tauber 1 993). (Goethe's position would be developed in a postpositivist challenge by Polanyi, which is a topic of the next chapter.) So, well before the positivists formally espoused their own agenda. Goethe clearly recognized the complex question of scientific ident i ty between the detached observer, supposedly divorced from theoretical presuppositions, and the creative investigator: "my thinking is not separate from objects; that the elements of the object, the perceptions of the object . flow into my thinking and are fully permeated by it; that my perceptio n itself is a thinking, and my thinking a perception" (Goethe 1 8231 1 9 88. 39). This realization of a confluence between subject and object was later formalized and developed in twentieth century phenomenological ph il os· ophy, where the gaze is the privileged vehicle of the subject's relat io n to the world; consciousness and meaning depend quite literally on how we see things (Husseri 1 935/ 1 970).7 The scientist must still endeavor ideall y to objectify, but as Goethe also recognized, the integrating creative in sigh t resided within a more complex faculty:
" "

This experimental reality, which is the only reality we live immediately (as opposed to scientific "reality," which is abstract and grasped intellectually rather than experimentally), is thus fundamentally subjective in natu re . The objects that surround us function less " as they are" than " as they

NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM
mean," and objects only mean for someone . . . . To see implies seeing mea ningfully. (Morrissey 1 988, xx; emphasis in original)

57

a� �

T he inextricability of subject and object contradicts the ideal of the scien­ t i st as in dependent from the world-the austere observer, collector of data uncontaminated by projected personal prejudice. How then do the crucial and variable elements of creative intuition, uction , and assembly of disparate information create "objective" real­ ded i ty? Much of our understanding rests on a different, "non-scientific" i ntell igence where "events are not counted but weighed, and past events no t ex plained but interpreted" (Heisenberg, 1 979, 68). Accordingly, whet her others have castigated or praised Goethe for his scientific philos­ ophy, his argument ultimately reduced to the legitimacy of a holistic fac­ ulty that would seek an exhaustively comprehensive study of his subject. Desp ite his objective methods (and his rejection of Schelling's projection of "mind" into nature), an aesthetic sensibility guided Goethe's studies, which left him with an unresolved conflict: To what extent, as scientist, was he allowed to vent the power of his anistic intuitions? How might he freely acknowledge the legitimacy of aesthetic judgment in scientific dis­ co u rse, and what aesthetic principle would he find useful?8 G oethe's holistic attitude, born in aesthetics, enjoyed strong sup­ port th roughout the nineteenth century. For instance, Benedetto Croce 0 902/ 1 972), similar to Goethe, would call an and poetry forms of cog­ niti on and saw the aesthetic as discerning diversity within an encompass­ ing u nity. But they stood on one side of a deep fault line between science a nd th e h umanities. As the positivist and reductive strains of scientific i nq u iry gained momentum, the more general admonition to integrate th e widest scope of experience was lost. While scholarly debate has exten­ sively con sidered Goethe's scientific character (e.g., Amrine, Zucker, and Wheeler 1 987; Bonoft 1 996), he must, on my view, be regarded not as a " poet scie ntist," but rather as a "holistic scientist." To label him as a p oe t s cientist inappropriately imposes our own divided sensibility of a T�vo Cultures world, when he regarded a unified nature with a unified n un d in tegrating poetic and scientific sensibilities. The poet and scientist n ecessari ly view the same object as differently refracted experiences, but fo r Goethe, the experience of the object must ultimately be integrated by arb itrating observer. Through a synthesis of scientific reason and aes­ e t i c judgment, he purponedly achieved unification of disparate ways of _ now10g, where "science and poetry . . . wh en properly employed [were

ss

SciENCE AND THE QuEST

FOR MEANING

regarded] as parallel and complementary ways of seeing" (Abrams, 1 9 53 , 308-9). This theme was pursued in diverse directions througho ut th e romantic era (McFarland 1 969; Cosslett 1 982) and inherited by the m id ­ nineteenth-century positivists, who put their own characteristic starn p on this philosophy in seeking a radical separation of objective and subj ect i ve modes of thought. 9 So, from their perspective, by labeling Goethe a poet scientist, he suffers the stigma of subjectivity. Purging subjectivity from science constituted the major reorientation of the postromantic period. To view the world objectively is to remove the subjective ego from the encounter. That is, the scientist as the know­ ing subject must divorce himself from projecting bias and subjectivit\' onto his inquiry. Indeed, the nineteenth century left behind the mu lt i­ dimensional (aesthetic, historical, speculative) approach to pursue a new method, one that would seek a unified reason in ways Goethe would h ave disallowed. Positivism's aspiration for the unification of knowledge an d a universal reason to pursue it took part of Goethe's scientific agenda and narrowed it to a single logic. But the wheel again turned, and during the later decades of the twe n­ tieth century, science studies, dissatisfied with a positivism that sough t to radically divorce the scientist from the object of inquiry, rediscovered how the context of study represents a crucial factor of scientific purs u it These themes will be further explored later. Suffice it to note that some contemporary science studies interpretations do not radically differ from Goethe's own conclusions, nor do they deliver us from the imbroglios he so clearly understood. His holistic project has been fractured, and. despite the extraordinary accomplishments of the approach he opposed. the philosophical need to pursue a unified reason remains. The positivists, of course, rejected Goethean holism because it wa� so tinged with subjective elements. A world built from their princip le ' would appear essentially the same to all viewers because facts for them have indepenrknt standing and universal accessibility, so that irrespec ti\'1? of individual observations, facts constitute a picture of reality. From th i� orientation, the independence of the known fact rests on its co"espo n · rknce to a reality that any objective observer might know. This assu me� both a universal perspective--a view from nowhere--a nd a corresp o n· dence theory of truth. Let us begin to probe the positivists' presuppositions. In regard ((l the relationship of fact and value, it seems obvious that we cannot easi l.� divide these between two domains that have no overlap. Even the p osl·

on that basis. historically t iv ist stan and chosen in everyday practice (Putnam 1 990). we Wdl discuss the epistemology of this mind-dependent world as a kind of in the tive e consrru-: . has a different character from that of my dog or the fly buzzing a rou nd my head. so our respective realities als o differ. P hilosophically speaking.NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM 59 h ave �ve �theer a�t r dards applied to natural science represent values. 10 Indeed. limits are at play. We are highly successful and we can control many aspects of nature. but our respec­ perceptions of what is are quite distinct. facts co"esponJ to nature's reality the positivist mind-set. The alternate view is perhaps counterintuitive at first. This w form ulation has several philosophical expressions. and as powerful as it undoubtedly is. All three of us live in the same world. So. facts are simply the currency scientists em ploy to know nature. but that is not the question at hand. and we can be confident of their worth because facts are "bits" of that reality. but the reality we perceive can only be real as we recogniu it. vzsm. T he issue is that reality is that which we know. In ords. But the positivist main­ a re rain s that a natural fact reflects a natural reality. Our brains have certain knowing capabilities that have evolved to allow successful navigation of world. reality appeared quite different fro m the one we now appreciate. or so obvious that it hardly seems possible that furious arguments have ensued on its claim: the world clearly exists. Common sense holds that we h ave perceptions and derivative language and symbols which depict that reality as it is. but in what sense can �l ai m to know the real in any final sense? We are limited by our col­ ec u ve m ind.which states simply that our cognitive fu n cti ons present the world directly to us. their position rests upon the "correspondence t heo ry of truth" (Lynch 200 1). Indeed. the very notions of time and space have assumed a radically d •fferent con figuration from that described by Newton. the human mind and nature together comprise reality.. But human cognition is distinct to our species and thus the reality we know. In sum. � . . and with the relativity and quantum r�vol utions. facts a rrived at facts because of the values assigned to them. but for now. We now may a more complete understanding of the real. A reality greater than the one we have so far per­ ceived seems a reasonable inference. . which proves the effectiveness of our capacities and confirms the confidence that we know the real. and the objectivist values em pl oyed by scientists are suitable for ascertaining such bits of reality. the human intercourse with that reality. Before the te l sco pe or microscope were invented. even human reality changes in history.

cultural. Later chapters are devoted to this issue. For the "anti-realist" critics. For the positivist (who holds to th� metaphysical realism discussed above). linguistic. In ot hL• words. etc. they only SU(· ceeded in making them seem disreputable (Daston and Galison 2007). and thereby understand th eir proper significance and meaning. from data retrieval to interpretati l1 tion and the fact support each other: the theory places the fact wi r h i r the larger construct. ence. langu ag� and history. as opposed to placing facts into a framewo rk which has been constructed from various elements. Those "extracurri c u­ lar" pieces are not just the furniture found in the natural world. feed · itself with facts it has construed as factual. observations must be freed o f '1 ' Constructivism. we may distill the debate i nto a major dispute about whether facts fit into a mosaic scientists discoz•e.) values play in portraying the reality science offers. Th (' had highlighted this problem as crucial to their own undertaking beca u·. facts ar�: constructed to some degree. to what extent epistemic (pertain i n� to knowledge) and nonepistemic (social. in a model or theory. the fact is a fact because it fulfills the criteria that permits its p lac"· ment in the theory that requires such facts. The story is further complicated by the stark distinction between theory and observation made by nineteenth-century positivists. namely.J­ . and we just have th be clever enough to fit them into the puzzle. emotiona l . and they were self-consciously aware that bias extended to e\'e · " aspect of the scientist's observation. that is. in turn. Considering their passio n t•' excise biased interpretation. The question devolves to an argument about the values employed w build the scientific edifice. . at least in the context of our discussion abo u t sci. introduces a bias. With this background. such potentially subjective comm itme nt· or prejudice remained troubling to nineteenth-century positivists. as persistent as the positivists might have been in attempting to stamp out subjective influences. usualh a model or theory. and the debate among them is how much . Contempora� science studies have concluded that. to have objectivity. and the construct is supported by the fact.· they argued that. we come back to the fact/value dichotom� . so here we only note that wh ik contat has proven a highly plastic concept.6o SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING r bias. even a circularity: the interp re t. and the theory. (and are therefore "real"). refers to the process of constructing the context in which facts ar�: placed. but also include powerful cognitive components derived from culture. They to•' realized that placing facts (observations) within a larger construct. facts are real.

) h as s hown them as only idealizations and working standards. . positivists � . The Knowing Agent in Dispute There is no escape from the constraints of an observer fixed by her indi­ vidual p erspective. contextualized in some observational setting and com­ m ined to processing information through some interpretative schema. and polit­ icJI effects often lie hidden. scientific tr � t h em erges . . despite some appreciation of the caveats � rtbed above. self-interest. not in any final form. allowing that (assuming that) each required different modes of o bjec tiv ity. S uch an observer cannot adhere to a rigid identification of facts based on J n idealized separation of the knower and the known. but metic u lous observation of practice (which I will discuss in chapters 4 and . B ut in the end. Because of this understanding. Contemporary sci­ en ce s tudies accept these kinds of distinctions as serving an ideal. a n d the struggle for objectivity becomes just that: a struggle. In short. Various kinds of \ Ji ues kn it the factual world together into a more or less coherent world­ \ icw ( Tauber 200 1 ).NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM 61 o\cco rdi ngly. linguistic. the radical separation of the observing/knowing subject 11 • h e r obj ect of scrutiny served as the single most important character­ � h t tc o f positi vist epistemology. on the other hand. The strategies vary. ··o m mit ments to a particular hypothesis or theory. and the \. The attempt to control for subjective bi as ex p lai ns. psychological projection. but only as a tentative statement o t w h at con sti tutes the real.. and. " 1 1 By differentiating th e p ro cesses. T hus dis tinguishing facts from nonscientific values provided a crucial d emen t of the positivist program. most abstractly. . In the o n go i ng negotiation with the natural world. T h e commitments to obscure conceptual structures usually rest Ju rmanr. rce . The social. might contaminate �he sanctity of scientific facts and their proper interpretation. observation putatively moved funher away from interpre­ t Jtio n. later effons to divide the criteria and logic of in vest i gat ive "discovery" from those of "verification. The ideological influences invariably remain 'uh tle.u m m un i ty of scientists and their panners. and that usk requ ired the control of contaminating prejudice. are the product of our own �r�. of course.c I � the n ineteenth century. only if observations were independent of theories (o uld they serve as evidentiary warrants of a theory's adequacy. T h es e b road conclusions. on the one hand. each of these extracurricular influences is in . at least in pan.

sionate observation: the more careful the design of the experimental co n. Thus the strict posi ti v. Accordingly. served as the basis of all knowledge. emb raced a method whose values have not only bequeathed an increasing capaci ty to control nature and raise human standards of living. cognition. the human sciences emerged (a matter discussed below [Smith 1 997. ist confined herself to phenomena and their ascenainable relatio nsh i ps through a vigorous mechanical objectivity. "hypothesis" was defined as the expectation of observing facts of a cenain kind under cenain condi­ tions. but also provided a powerful. the more precise the characterization of phenomena. were presented as self-sufficient entities. and with this mandate. was quickly translated to the biologi cal and social sciences. albeit panicular. one framed by norm ative standards (Tauber 2005a). the products of sensory experience and. Any hypothesis or law that scientists could not defin e in terms such as these would be written off as "pseudo-hypothesis" or "pseudo-law. for by the 1 850s. and information. Facts. science." A newly construed attitude would regulate the use of such terms as knowledge. ditions. processed with a self-conscious fear of subjective contamination. which stretched the positivist standards to accom ­ modate a different epistemological orientation. This general approach was not limited to the study of the na tura l world. facts of a cenain kind were un i­ formly observable.SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING claimed that science should rest on a foundation of neutral and dispas. by extrapolation. the m ore likely the diminution of subjective contaminants. who regarded scientific growth as synonymous with modernity and progress . In summary. and a scientific "law" was understood as the proposition that under certain conditions of a cenain kind. means for understanding the world and human nature. In its endeavor to seek some final truth (defined by its paroch ia l methods) and to embrace its own mode of rational discourse. positivism came to be understood as a ph ilo­ sophical belief which held that the methods of natural science offer the only viable way of thinking correctly about human affai rs. empiricism. Human sub­ jectivity now resided under a new lens of inquiry. Thus the sciences separated themselves from older traditions of inquiry. developed most assuredly in the physical sciences. That model. a critical chorus saw science as distort· ing human life and imperialistically dominating other modes of experi ­ ence. Dogging that promotion. critics with . the data derived from machines and instruments built as extensions of perceptive facul­ ties. nineteenth-century positivist proponents. 2007] ).

Louis Aggas i z (Tauber 200 1 . the relentless assenion of positivist values-the scientism aris­ i ng from the projection of such values beyond the domain of the natu­ ral sciences-provided narrow and distoned views of human nature and soc iety. Thoreau penned his most imaginative writings. analysis fundamentally was a self cmzsdous interpretative act that synthesizes the perceptions of the world into a construct that confers meaning. To illustrate this issue. Judgment mediates the action by wh ich the individual places the data within a theoretical framework or. the basic issues remain the same." during the pivotal moment of romanticism's e. beyond the requirements of scientific scrutiny. interpretative.NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVISM c hi s pe rspective regarded science as overwhelming other kinds of knowl­ edge . into some larger structure. altern atively. For Thoreau. In each case. "How are we to restore the uniry of human nature" in a disenchanted world? ( 1 80 1 / 1 993. how scien­ tific knowledge becomes personally meaningful. On c hi s view. moral. or spir itual framework that confers personal meaning to the observer. Some of the contentious issues in the Science Wars (see chapter 4) origi nated in these nineteenth-century debates about the character of reaso n an d what counts as rational. in turn. most notably those oriented by humanistic values and concerns. Thoreau powerfully depicted how individual judgment in all of its multitudes of expressions holds nature and the individual together. consider Henry David Thoreau. And judgment is value-laden and thus undeniably individual­ i zed (Tauber 200 1 ). which he actively p u rsued. during the 1 850s he expertly prac­ t i ced "natural history" both in his own amateur pursuits and as a speci­ m e n collector for the newly arrived Harvard professor of zoology. the individual makes a self-conscious. (That faculry appointment signaled . Indeed. The positivism that arose in reaction to romanticism framed a group of questions derived from the radical break between subject and ob ject that the positivist averred as necessary for scientific inquiry. creative effon places facts. Although we have a different conception of science than the one he combated in the mid-nineteenth century. the romanticist asked. incorporates their observations into an aesthetic. 1 2 1 ). Or as Schiller asked. both individualized and discrete. From s u c h obj ective knowledge. creative j udgment. For hi m. the result of his "e x periments in living. who offered a philosophy actively engaged in critical dialogue with positivism.b b an d positivism's rise. 1 22-24).

& say "I know. For him. Thus Thoreau's natural history is a complex array of severa l modes of knowing and an overlapping of several kinds of writ ing. I count some parts. Thoreau knew what it meant to engage in the science of his day. botany. In other words. when he repeatedly asked what the relationship betwee n the object of inquiry-the natural world-and the method of study and reporting was. 8 1 -SJ: 9 1-92). the study of nature offered a personal comprehensio n °1 the world. whe th �r formulated as a record of the first appearance of flowers or as the tech­ nical challenge of determining the best mixture of day and grap hite to make a better pencil. He invoked different rationalities. He cenai nl v comprehended how to apply systematic thinking to a problem. To appreciate his achievements. entomology. The critical step moves the ob se rver .) Thoreau's scientific endeavors involved care ful measurement and observation in many different venues. while the romantics made this challenge their chief concern·. the answer appeared to displace the individual from th�: inquiry. Thoreau saw the stakes at risk in the ascendancy of a new scientism that accompanied the rising tide of pos i ­ tivism. 380) His epistemological endeavor contains multiple layers and as j udged by positivist standards. would meet with only varying success-swi ngin� between detailed observation of all forms of nature to a distinctive p rose poetry written in the genre of nature vignettes (Tauber 200 1 . he denied that this was the end of his studies: I fear that the character of my knowledge from year to year becoming more distinct & scientific-That in exchange for views as wide as heav­ en's cope I am being narrowed down to the field of the microscope-I see details not wholes nor the shadow of the whole. and reasonably followed the standards o f geology. and ichthyo logy in the naturalist tradition (Walls 1 995)." (Thoreau 1 990. ornithology. a picture of reality that suggests insight into. 1 2 However. and there by a n orientation of. For the latter. objectivity obstructed his individualized vision of wha t a description of nature must attain. Of course. we must be sensitive to the role each played in mediating his experience. which began to sweep the scientific community of the 1 850s. humans in nature. from another vantage. taxonomy. which in cl ud ed a newly conceived organization of the academy between the sci e n ce s and the humanities. He acknowledged the importance oi scientific inquiry.SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR MEANING the professionalization of biology in the United States. the positivists made no allowance for this more glo ba l experience. Like other romantics.

William Whewell. but "scientist" is distinctly modern. nm 1 Th us. he had good reason to prefer the older designation.1 1 ) . Only as the methods of scientific inquiry became increasingly �c h ni cal. In addition. Whewell commented. "scientist" was 10 0 eas ily asso ciated with commercial overtones of technical applications." which also points to analysis of a particular kind.NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVISM en tist) from outside the "picture" to a subject within the picture. In 1 840. In oth e r words. to distin­ guish. The examination of the natural world was part of what philoso­ Ph ers did. the world." originally meant "to separate one thing from another. and a new professionalism took hold in its various disciplines • d a sc ie ntist emerge as someone different from a philosopher. After all . scientia is knowledge of. us we have the basic conflict between two ways of looking at the A n d th d and being in it. and as a gentleman. If one T h e term scientist was coined by a British scientist and philosopher of thus r r_ast t � . And sciens. but t he l ate date of its birth is. or cognition about. I should incline to call him a Scientist" (cxiii). a dissatisfaction with teleological argu m ents. science was a category of phi­ os o p hy. 3. Charles Darwin. the word science has an ancient etymology. a certain speculative or intuitive attitude in method (especially ram pa nt amongst the Naturphilosophen). The term philosophical was not explic­ itly d efin ed but generally stood as the study of the natural world that inc luded the search for laws in biology. The Lat in scientia means "knowledge" as opposed to sapientia." Darwin carefully composed his language. and a general commitment to J n idealist approach (Rehbock 1 983. "know­ ing. writing in the introduction to his Philosophy ofthe Inductive Sciences. who wrote during the same period as Whewell. u ntil the mid-nineteenth century. Certainly. In short. the word "science" is ancient. worl (t he sci Two Cultures sc i e nce. The definition itself is not noteworthy. referred to himself as a "natural philosopher. the designation carried a pejorative connotation of someone an d w h o was inclined to look for the economic benefits of discoveries in con­ o the pristine search for true knowledge. wisdom. Indeed. as opposed to the more self-reflexive domain of wisdom. Not until the end of the etee nth century would the term scientist assume more neutrality. this etymology closely adheres to what we broadly understand science to seek. "We need very much a name to describe a cultivator of science in general.

Lenoir 1 989. few can dispute rhar rhe triumphs of technology are inseparably li nked ro rhe success of rhe underlying science. and rhe discoveries will be convened into eco nomi c . the ovenure has been true to irs pront· ise. rhe rwo are distinct. The techniques developed in the nineteenth ce�­ rury reflected a growing sophistication in terms of both material inves ­ tigations and the mathematics supponing them. and many pursued what we would call "amateu r" sci . However. until abou t 1 50 years ago. most scientists and philosophers shared the same intellec­ tual bed (Postlethwaite 1 987). In shon. 76-77). Chemistry and physics began to separate a bit earlier. 1 2 1-3 I ). Holmes 1 974) and other physiologists were reducing organic processes to physics and chemistry (Galary 1 974. physics and chemistry were employing new mathematics. By rhe 1 870s. which by the 1 870s created statistical mechanics and all that it spawned. bur cenainly natural history remained the province of a wide audience. and by rhe 1 820s. Claude Bernard ( 1 865/ 1 927. and this demanded specialized training. Indeed. The field of "biology' was invented as irs own discipline in rhe first decade of rhe ninereemh century. The fruits of rhar labor resulted in new industries derived fro m sci­ entific findings and their successful application ro material culture. Bur technology is not science . For instance. science was divided into various natural and social sciences. military. fessional encumbrances to their full paniciparion. advances in scientific techniques and methods of srudr required specialization. Kremer 1 990) . I am nor referring to irs popular mode: gentlemen would go to natural history meetings well into rhe 1 850s and 1 860s without any p ro. the educated classes were comfortably conversant with the l atest scientific findings. ence (Tauber 200 I . Technology builds materially on scientific insigh t and . Concurrently.66 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING examines rhe Western intellectual world as late as the American Civ i l War. Focused anenrion to technical knowledge became a pre· requisite for active paniciparion. Eventually this professional narrowing led to academic and professional segregation in Western Europe and in the United Stares (Knight 1 9 86: Bruce 1 987). while the num be r of those studying newly formalized sciences increased fifryfold (Proctor 1 99 1 . in Prussia. primarily sta· ristical in nature. rhe number of students enrolled in universities quadrupled during the nineteenth century. science had been sold as a shrewd investment: devel op scientific inquiry. and social power. each of which assumed a high degree of technical comp e· renee and cognitive training (Smith 1 997). Since the Renaissance.

But the close identification of science and technology ft n this distinction. • nq u try (celebrating the autonomy of the moral agent and knower). technology is the 11pplication of knowledge for material innovation. the h umanit ies. On this view. remained integrated through the Enlightenment and split only during the mid-nineteenth century. Consequently. Daston and Galison 2007). the intellectual discipline of each domain drifted a part . while science seeks to discover the character of nature and is t h us part of the philosophy of knowledge. the separation is rooted in the nineteenth-century modification of positivism to a more radical format and its extension to the human sciences. More importantly. revision a nd correction of opinion. H uman ists were originally concerned with a general education that spans t h e classics to modern science. nineteenth-century positivism provided a philosophy tor the sciences to claim a unique intellectual and academic territory. as opposed to its deeper commitments to philosophical inquiry. Those borders were jealously guarded and broke a long-standing arrange­ ment. given the segregation of the scientist. Kolakowski 1 968. humanism ( re fe rri ng to the rediscovery of the classical tradition in the medieval perio d . while science underlies s uch engineering. writ large. With the professionalization of the scientist and his segregation within th e lab oratory. one that increasingly sought to describe the world objectively (Simon 1 963. But humanists came to be associated w i th the broader liberal agenda: freedom of thought. tolerance. and a self-critical atti­ t ude-all in the employ of furthering a humanist understanding of the �vorld . those who remained created their own domicile. Those who would separate sci­ e n ce and the humanities would do so primarily on these methodological di vergences. rooted in the Renaissance and matured during the early modern period. The hermeneutical methods used in the humanities. open communication. h ave their own standing.) was coined (like the word scimtist) in the nineteenth century. The humanistic-scientific alliance. I mention these differences here to emphasize o e bl urs th at science has been too often associated with its product. Not surprisingly. Indeed. That interpretation was founded on a human-based understand­ � ng ( h uman reason as opposed to divine revelation) and human-centered . The various objects of investigation have evolved different a pp roaches and different truth criteria. But the interpretations applied to human cre­ a ti vity are not suitable for the study of nature under the present scien­ tific paradigm.NINETEENTH-CENTURY POSITIVISM m uch el se. Of . albeit of a special kind.

the rise of modernity. After all. I n shon. they suppon each other in common pu r­ pose and share the same self-critical attitude. As discussed in chapter 1 .68 SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING course this hardly exhausts the humanist agenda. these underlying precepts and the values supponing them bridge the central concerns of the humanities and the sciences i nto a powerful alliance. Accordingly. (The obvious con : trast is argument directed by a religious faith that is constrained a prio r• by presuppositions deemed immune in advance to questioning. the scientific worldview could make its claims based on a long history of coupling its panicular concerns to th is larger program. rather than serv­ ing as a moat. Despite deep fractures i n this idealized view.) . scientists instantiated a rationality that had become a tool for open-ended inquiry. which would in the course of its development include the primacy of personal judgme n t . it is open to revision through free argument. Although science follows a naturalistic philosophy. with a mode of truth-seeking that distinguishes itself by refusing to be guided by or serve any predetermined goal. science is pan of a histori­ cal development of humanistic thought. as opposed to subjective opinion. these epistemic values are fundamental to the success of science. and when opinion is held. Scientific epistemology emerged directly from natural philosophy. These are the deepest values of science and the underlying philosophy guiding its methods and defining its aims. although the sciences and the humanities pu r­ sue different objects of inquiry. and on this broad view. was part of a comprehensive intellectual orientation: ruthless self-criticism leaves the frame of reference always in doubt. by a self-critical philosophy. which. in turn. In panicular. objectivity is sought. fallibility is assumed. Nature devoid of human value and human caprices demanded honest answers to starkly posed questions. Science is sustained. science originated as a contributing member of the philosophy faculty. the historical record reveals fallibility. individual-derived freedom (against any form of authoritarianism). we find other aspects that link them. The rise of science helped pave the way for secularism's triumph an d the ascendancy of liberal political societies. Note that. and concomitantly. indeed instantiated. t he values at the foundations of scientific inquiry are often at odds with those of religionists. its empiricism is based on a rationality that has deeper roots in natural philosop hy. the place of objective knowledge. And beyond this kinship. and an integration of varied forms of knowledge. tested against the investigations of nature. is tested and contested.

the character of truth remains hotly contested. but about the metaphysics in which Darwinism functioned. He was undoubtedly echoing the opening inspir�tional (and wish­ fu l) aphorism of Bacon's Novum Organon. And by that assenion. And even before 011 the Origin ofSpecies. From Galileo to current debate ab out in telligent design. 1 838) soon became com mon place sentiments: "Origin of man now proved.) Thus the drama was not limited to evolutionary science per se. the various alternatives to knowing have hardly lost their a p p eal. therein. More than just rejecting religious doctrine. Andrew Dickson Wh ite [Feldman 2005]) denounced religion as an offense against science. Darwin's theory of common descent. " Man is the interpreter ofNature.-He who understands baboon <will> would do more toward metaphysics than Locke. namely. God is besides the point. 539). Whewell could assen with arrogant confidence. materialistic universe with no telos. This turbulent theatre o f conte ntion drew distinct battle lines between various kinds of religion­ i sts an d secularists. which sparked a crisis over reli­ gious belief and metaphysics based on the divine. Science the right interpretation" ( 1 840. or at least so Whewell thought. Each has its place and. which three hundred years later had become a confident summation of science's actual achievement. he meant specifi­ cally the findings obtained by a radical objectivity guided by positivist p rinciples of inquiry. 84e. Darwinism assened its own metaphysical picture in contrast to it. published in 1 859. S uch a view leaves to humans the chore of defining significance and m ean ing within a human construct. the pronouncement of science's promise is only one of m a n y chap ters of dispute that characterize the battle between science a n d reli gion as competing worldviews. Imposing a secondary layer of divine i nterpretation upon those findings does not warrant conflating two ways of kn ow ing. xvii). Da rwin 's prescient early journal musings Ouly 1 . p.-Metaphysic must flourish. Whatever triumph science m i ght cla im. . Indeed. In the United States stalwan promoters of secularism (li ke Robe n Ingersoll and Cornell's founding president. put another way." ( 1 987. a stark. its authority.NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTMSM The conflict is clearly illustrated by the reception of Darwin's On the Origin ofSpecies. (Cosslett [ 1 984] offers a rich compendium of the nineteenth-century debate. How to achieve pluralistic balance lies at the base of the conflict b e twee n secularism and religious ideology. The Darwinians argued that science's u nderstanding of the universe and our place in it may or may not include a divine presence. that is.

and (3) the logic and standards of knowledge as applied to the natural world were extended to the social and psychological domains of human experience. but all u nder­ stood that much more was at stake. Theoretically. a stri ctly neutral science would posture itself towards neither camp. revealing mysterious forces and events as natural and thereby open to human understanding. the rise of free agency. So . but given its historical and cultural affinity with the humanist tradition. And no wonder. thereby rationalizing a redistribution of power and authority from monarchial and ecclesiastical centers to liberal institutions . ) The success of the positivist program funhered the cause by demonstrating how a more rigorous objec­ tivity. as rhe objective eye achieved primacy. the convergence of other cultu ral forces combined in the eventual triumph of secularism: the realignment of authority. science found itself caught in the crossfire of an ideological war that has been waged for over five centuries. so did humankind's. which had replaced intimacies of the hean with a different logi c and a different understanding of the world could master nature. the autonomy of the individual. Here. Science panook in this social revolution in at leas t three ways: ( 1 ) the technology based on scientific discoveries revolution­ ized the material culture. science increasingly became the adj ud ica· tor of true knowledge. both panies violated the borders as they sought to bolster their respective programs. the answers science provided were hardly neutral inasmuch as the secul arists regarded investigative findings with one set of lenses. . scie n ce became a powerful instrument of humanist philosophy. strong arguments have been made as to how post-Reformation Protestantism also contributed to the rise of mod­ ern scientific epistemology [Harrison 1 998] . the debate would have been quelled. After all. Nineteenth-century secularization signaled God's funher retreat from the everyday world of common experience and activities and also high­ lighted a major realignment of social hierarchies and the rationale for new political structures. the claims for individuali ty.70 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING If science were regarded simply as a tool for technological advancem en t or mastery of nature. of course. while the religion ­ ists peered through another. (And. Moreover. and as God's place in the u n i­ verse shifted. Indeed. From divergent positions intractable argument ensued. since neutrality was never a viable option. (2) this naturalized world­ view made divine intervention increasingly peripheral to human under­ standing. These developments revised God's status. for no less than the "Truth" was at stake.

The Human Sciences Positivism as an ideal philosophy of science also found application in the h u man sciences. superstition. which profess to introduce us to the general relations or laws which govern everything that is or can be real. and thus objectivity attains a new standing as commu­ nal witnessing replaces private inspiration and insight as the final judge of truth claims. they have a very profound influence on our latest opinions. there must be those sciences which study the actually existing forms as distinguished from the possible ones. and they have. each of which was replaced with a different way of reasoning (Chadwick 1 975. ( 1 896/ 1 965. of course. These sciences are the truly descriptive sciences. 2. It is here we a ppreci ate positivism's most general appeal. and beliefs­ i . e. and inasmuch as they also comprise the study of man himself. In a manner. vol. made quite as much progress as the purely abstract sciences. including. the human sciences. They are indeed older than the abstract sc ie nces. Note how John Merz in his influential (and magisterial) revi ew of nineteenth-century thought summarized the situation at the end of the century: Clearly. Scientific knowledge thus sought to displace opinion in every real m of inquiry. but as alone possessed of that mys­ terious something which distinguishes the real and actual from the pos­ sible and artificial . though perhaps hardly as powerful in their influence on practical pursuits. science a nd secularism were closely associated in their combined attacks against folk psyc hology. besides the abstract sciences. on our inner life. interests. In a cascade. the "where" and "how".NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVISM 71 The pervasive philosophy of science is inextricable from the political s h i ft result ing from the rise of secularism. Certainly by the end of the nineteenth century. they are more popular: they occupy a larger number of students. 203-4) . (3) autonomous reports require pub­ li c con firmation. and "here" and "there". of things and processes. in opposition to the abstract ones. Wilson 1 99 9 ). in the course of the period under review in this work. (2) private reports assume a new position as i n depen dent sources of knowledge. which look upon real things not as examples of the general and universal. ( I ) the empiricist m easu res rational discourse against a natural object that "speaks" back ro the in dividual observer. and religious revelation. .

interpreta­ tions. SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING These human sciences. neutral observation and interpretation. and so on. had ready-at-hand criteria for its professional standards. (That ideology continues to have influence. followed the natural sciences. With this underlying motive defining the science/nonscience boundary. or what we now call the social sciences. see Wilson 1 998. The aspiration for scientific objectivity became a central concern fo r the social sciences when Auguste Comte proclaimed his positivist ideals in the 1 820s (Comte 1 825/ 1 974). science required dispassionate. at least closely overlapping. religion. the boundaries of the discipline remained contested. it threatened the entire scientific endeavor. more specifically sociology. but also to maintain social orde r and legitimate political decisions. scientism aped its erstwhile opponent. While virtually all agreed that identification with the natural sc i · ences seemed crucial for sociology's legitimization.) Ironically." Thus "value-free" science and "neutrality" were regarded as. the "controversy over values" became a central issue. if not synony­ mous. . the emergence of the social sciences. a new way of understanding n�erything. The enthusiasts argued that scien ti fic methods were applicable to all domains of human need and assened sci­ entism as representing the best way to construct a worldview (albeit uto­ pian) from one end of human experience to another-defining reality and comprehensively characterizing human psychology and sociology. In the German context. neutrality and objectivity went hand in hand into the laboratory. personal. Among those of the latter group were the key architects of the new d isc i · pline. Germany's foremost sociologist. Anything less would putatively bias findings. And neutrality meant that "human values"-encompassing the entire spectrum of political. albeit in a more self-conscious fashion (Smith 1 9 97 . Accordingly. Indeed.72. theories. religious beliefs and commitments-would not enter the analy­ sis. Investigations deemed nonneutral relative to some personal or social agenda were disqualified as "scientific. "neutrality" served as the means of protect­ ing the autonomy of the new science of society. and i n its unbridled enthusiasm. But while some saw sociology as th e answer to Germany's social and economic woes. As the founders of German sociology assembled themsel ves into professional groups. itself becoming a new religion. most notably Max Weber. others stiflly resi st ed. The appeal of political involvemen t was enticing: the social sciences might be employed not only to rational ize social policy and promote the economy. For an example. 2007).

and thereby sough t to protect the neutral (scientific) standing of the discipline by se l f. to events to what we attach cultural significance" (Weber 1 904/ 1 949. and "on this significance alone rests its scientific interest" (8 1 ). Weber raised the banner of neu­ t rali ty against the positivism of Comte and the developmental theses of M a rx ism (or for that matter. the latter in terms of economic transformations. emphasis in original). perception ofits meaning to us is the presupposition of its becom­ ing an object of investigation" (76." Weber drew ical distinctions between the natural and social sciences by emphasiz­ crit ing the value-laden criteria of cultural and historical evaluations. because only it is related to the cultural values with which we approach reality" (78. which direct selection and ordering of phe­ nomena. and more. Social science "involves subjective presuppositions insofar as it concerns itself with those components of reality which have some relationship. He argued that the so-called data was but "unbounded subjective valuations" (Proctor 1 99 1 . unique.NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTIVISM 73 Weber clearly demarcated his role as scientist citizen. laws are "meaningless" for the work of social scientists. for "in every case only a pan of concrete reality is interesting and signifi­ cant to us. and unilinear progression. 1 06-1 0]). Any semblance of order is achieved by the winnowing power of value-based selection. are "entirely different from the analysis of reality in terms of laws and general concepts" (77) . This was a contentious matter. Weber advocated self-reflection and self-understanding of how in cip ient values and individual perspective influence interpretation of em p irical evidence. how­ ever indirect. Only "will and conscience. Such investigations made under the guidance of values. the former in terms of �odes of thought. Weber argued that each erred in assuming a progressive. 82. emphasis in original). not empirical knowledge" ca n hol d the scientist to the "ultimate standards" of objectivity (54). Both Wrongly assumed that there is some necessary relation between 'what is' . Rather. But Weber was wary of apply­ i ng b iology to research programs devoted to proving theories of racial hygien e and social Darwinism. specifically socialism and Marxism. 1 1 1 ). since proponents of various political persuasions attempted to enlist the new social sci­ e nces to promote their own social ideals. emphasis in original). In " 'Objectivity' in social science and social policy. any of the "ideal types" of social theory !Weber 1 9041 1 949. 1 35). As Ro ben Proctor observes ( 1 99 1 . "We cannot discover what is meaning­ ful to us by means of 'presuppositionless' investigation of empirical data.consciously distancing it from political movements.

for discussion). Weber shrewdly extended his espousal of neutrality for science in a bidirectional manner-science would not be contaminated with ideological bias and science.74 SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR MEANING and 'what ought to be. the moral order cannot be derived from the movement of history or any other facts of social life. the positivist agenda for the social sciences is no longer ge n· erally accepted (see Proctor 1 99 1 . which the n serves as a loose rationale for many programs that do not even attem p t to cloak their efforts in the garments of scientific legitimacy. However. This admissio n weakens the entire edifice. undenakc. Weber offered a general philosophy of the value question. 1 63-8 1 . and in this realm. and (3) pointing out the unintended con­ sequences of pursuing those ends: These and only these can the scientist. 88-89) Later. prompting some critics like Lee Mcintyre to maintain a stauncher stance ( 1 993. where a more relaxed view of laws from that espoused in the natu ral sciences might suffice (e. Weber. This line of argument ofte n leads to a suggestion that a new kind of science is required. in turn. 1 3 5). One strategy is to view such an inquiry as falling on a continuum of scientific explana· tion. is a question no science can answer. " (Proctor 1 99 1 . and revised notions of how the social sciences might be based on discovery of th e ir own general laws persist as a central theoretical concern. But whether these goals should be pursued in the first place. The first is a question of logic. for our purposes. Protecting sociology's insularity from various political agendas. he responded with an anicula re defense of value-neutrality for the new discipline. which he readily admitted was unattainable. 2006) . one that remains cogent today. qua scientist. Today. science cannot tread. A scientist might involve himself in public debate by ( 1 ) identifying the contradictions between a person's values and their interests. . Weber argued. in his influential essay "Science as a vocation" ( 1 9 1 9/ 1 946). Kincaid 1 990). of personal commitment. Th e real is not the rational . the issue is not so much the conceptual basis of the social sciences and the quest for some firm scientific principles which might guide social po liC}'· . For "this is a question of conscience. 1 3 From this neutral platform." (Proctor 1 99 1 . would not offer its own "objectivity" to matters of inrer­ pretation. Weber says. .. the second and third questions of empirical fact.' In fact. attempted to delimit the erosion of an objective ideal. (2) asking what empirical means are required to achieve those ends.g. keenly cognizant of the precarious status of the social sciences as science.

In t he following chapters we will examine several aspects of this gen­ e ral p roblem. first to the demise of the positivist ideal.NINETEENTH-CENTURY PosiTMSM 75 b ut rather the ever-present challenge of even understanding that agenda. and then tracking the development of a revisionist philosophy­ one deci dely less ambitious and more circumspect of its goals. directing our attention. .

.

I will refer to these diverse � h J racteri zations as "agent-centered. Most prominently articulated by Edmund l l u s se rl . critical themes • rne rged about how science framed the modern world in every aspect of experience and how that presentation distorted or imperialisti­ • JI Iy trum pe d other forms of knowing. 0.' : . For convenience (and for reasons t lJ J t will beco me apparent in the conclusion)." The second set. Of the two approaches. Whitehead. largely dominated ��: th e logical positivists of the Vienna Circle but including earlier works r re Du hem and Henri Poincare. regarded science analytically by '-'1 " 1 t Pie m � pt i n g to formalize the nature of observation. � •• . . and intellectual structure of science as part of a '"m p re hens i ve epistemology. at least in the hum an \ h . ewell. 8111 in point ofqJist�ologicalfooting th� physkal objms and th� gods diff only n- qua lay physicist. V. an d John Stuart Mill. ". theory construction. and John Dewey. global characterizations of science fell into three �o:neral groupings. . . They promoted the scientific enterprise e th u \ n s i asti cally building on the foundations established by Comte. "Two dogmas of empiricism" During the last century. Quine. '. which meant interpreting t h o: m eth od s. .:· . "'· . Heidegger. . ' ' / r\ � ' I or my part I do. in tkgr�� and not in kind W.The Fall of Positivism :� ' . products. b�lin�� in physkal objms and not in Homn-'s gods . .n t e basis of truth claims. The first cluster concerned itself with the placement of •(io:n ce w ithin a general philosophical context.' .

they declared the positivists' formalization project moribund. In fact. and thus a Marxist in his orientation) op ined­ fairly.SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING Anglo American community. let us call it "postpositivis r. Feyerabend. 40). At . ( 1 947/2004. To announce that we live in a postpositivist era hardly draws atte n· tion. one that radically disputed this very claim and thereby rejected the unique status of science. and like-minded sociologi­ cally oriented critics. A different. the two con­ tenders held in common a basic precept. For simplicity. It is often said that all the problems that philosophy has tried to solve are either meaningless or can be solved by modern experimental methods. he obviously was referring to a different species of philosophy. 40) Those who resisted positivism's advance or doubted its promi s es were characterized as suffering from "a failure of nerve" (Horkheimer 1 947/2004. one of the dominant trends in modern philosophy is to hand over to science the work left undone by traditional speculation. Accordingly. for a much more powerful instru­ ment of knowledge has taken its place. not ostensibly as pan of a necromantic awakening. the success of the positivist movem en t w015 self-evident by mid-twentieth century when Max Horkheimer (a founder of the Frankfurt School." Taking three nodal positions-agent-centered. Led by Kuhn. As different as these divergent approaches might be. economic. decapitates philosophy" ( 1 935/ 1 970. but what such a declaration ponends remains a beguiling issue. positivist. the adherents of this group believed that the prac­ tice of science and the production of knowledge followed a pragmatic course directed by unacknowledged social. and when Husserl lamented that "positivism. namely. and postp os i · tivist-for orientation. this chapter examines the basis for the last of these positions. 9) . I think: Today there is almost general agreement that society has lost nothing by the decline of philosophical thinking. third major course in characteriz­ ing science appeared in the last four decades of the twentieth century. in a man­ ner of speaking. These later thinkers summarily rejected those asp ira· tions and their various accompaniments as suffering irredeemable flaws. and cul­ tural influences. political. modern scientific thought. for each assembly of critiques implicitly accepted that science claimed for itself a special form of reason and knowledge acquisition. Such a trend toward the hypostatization of science characterizes all the schools today called positivist. but rather as pan of another agenda altogether.

such differentiations." then a new pol i tical � rder has assumed primacy. . historians.THE FALL OF POSITIVISM 79 least if scie nce in its positivist mode has been "democratized. and with the as ce n sion of the postpositivist contender. the promase of matenal utopaa. for ove � a century t he critena of true knowledge. we must both acknowledge that c ha nge and understand how it alters vinually everything else. It does so with an eye on the status of the fact/value distinction as a guiding framework for understanding the shifting meanings of objectivity and t h e related problem of constructivism. This chapter surveys the rise of a radically different view of science. These issues lie at the foundation of science's truth claims and the process by which claims are made. and its sec ular idealism as inadequate to address the resurgent fundamental­ i s ms of our age. and the j ustification for belief in a rational secularism. or even eliminated. its material product as potentially dangerous. science was not entitled to any s pecial claims based on some rigorous rationality. The discussion probes a specific q uestion that has appeared again and again in different formats as philos­ o p hers. Hav. Its linguistic structure and strictures were as restrictive as any other cognitive activity. A new understanding replaced positivism. and sociologists of science grapple with the problem of how to depict science from their respective points of view: how do facts and values relate to each other in the context of characterizing the epis­ temology and social activity we call "science"? The spectrum of this mat­ ter spans the character of objectivity to the subjectivity of the knowing agent and invokes debates about the social construction of knowledge. social.ing dictated. the strictures of language. this project gained momentum from two seminal Wo rks p ublished essentially at the same time: Kuhn's Structure ofScienti c fi l11 vestigations ( 1 962) and Polanyi's Personal Knowled (first appearing in ge 1 958 an d revised in 1 962). the demarcation problem shifted from the problem of distinguishing science fro m nonscience to one that considered how the new sociology of scien­ tifi c knowledge diffused. science now must offer its k nowledge as fallible. While th e h is tory of this transition is highly convoluted and combines many t ri butaries of thought. In short. We begin with the latter. and economic environments. and the boundaries of science in its political. Most dam­ aging to the underlying idealism of a logical rationality was the resulting relativism that seemed to undermine science's authority. According to the revisionist approach.

"objective" knowledge is only one kind aspired to. is a conceit. and proceeds by analyzing the word "knowing" to show that its connotations refer to many level s of understanding. we cannot escape our own perspective. in any formal fashion be fi n a l ­ ized in logical format. but even this category. Much of Polanyi's critique concerned the logical futility of estab­ lishing any fixed framework that could critically test the positivist pro­ gram. for Polanyi would simply broaden the cogn i ­ tive category of "objectivity" to include those mental faculties which p l ay in the realm of discovery and cannot. Simply put. which shapes all factual knowledge. bridges in doing so the disjunction between subjectivity and objectivity. He also explicitly recognized the "legitimacy o f pre-theoretical experience--which is not the same as random subj ect iv - . like Husser) and Nietzsche. Polanyi regarded the positivist view of sci­ ence's logic as too narrow. as th e character of human nature and the status of the emotions. Personal Knowledge begins with the bald assenion. "I stan by rejecting the ideal of scientific detachment" (Polanyi 1 962. a humanistic interpretation of an objective worldview remains a pervasive challenge for modernity. I n this fashion. (Polanyi 1 962. Polanyi offered a cogent presentation of this dilemma just as the positivist crest was about to crash. or as the mo ral standing of nature. It implies the claim that man can transcend his own subjectivity by striving passionately to fulfill his per­ sonal obligations to universal standards. as the competi ng claims of disjointed subjective and objective realms of experience. By tying together the vari­ ous strands of this abiding tension. Impersonal. very different from the strategy that Kuhn employed). saw "rational­ ity" as a broader category than the criterion of objectivity construed in a narrow sense. inci­ dentally. He. the positivists offered no perspective from which their own axioms might be examined critically. according to Polanyi. His argument attacked the positivists' position essentially from within the strictures of their own logic (which was. vii). In other words. I will only highlight cenain aspects. He observed: the act of knowing includes an appraisal. the personal assessment that is intrinsic to any knowing. Specifically. Th is was not an either/or choice.8o SciENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING Polanyi: Personalizing Knowledge Whether posed as the conflict of science and religion. he still aspired to objectivity's ostensible goals. 1 7) Polanyi explicitly discounted subjectivism and substituted perso nal. and this personal coefficient. and a limiting one at that.

meta­ phoric extension. 1 4). In still offering an objective visi on of the world mediated by the active perso n in his or her various knowing modalities. (Polanyi 1 962. Polanyi thought that the scientist should again visit the dilemma of what '�arran ts inclusion in the scientific domain. Wary of becoming ensnared in the confines of restricted theory �r disciplines of thought and. It commits us. which. probabilistic judgment. Briefly. He called this broade ned realm of knowing th e " tacit dimension" (Polanyi 1 966) . passionately and far beyond our comprehension. and the like-comes into play.THE fALL OF POSITIVISM i ry!" ( Hansen 1 990. each of whi ch has a part to play in scientific discovery. 64) Echoes of pre-Socratic logos. may be heard in Polanyi's almost religious testam ent. even to the point of conceiving a rational idea of the universe which can authori­ tatively speak for itself. also like love. the discovery of rationality in nature. does not require that we see ourselves as a mere grain of sand in a million Saharas." blazing with passion and. Polanyi argued t ha t we see the world through different cognitive lenses. . 5) For Polanyi. . and as such it claims to establish contact with reality beyond the clues on which it relies. Polanyi resurrected the deeper metaph ysical goals of scie nce . Of this responsibility we cannot divest ourselves by setting up objective criteria of verifiability-or falsifiability. or testability. with the hope of overcoming the appalling disabilities of our bodily existence. a name which was meant to say that the kind of orde r which the discoverer claims to see in nature goes far beyond his understanding. consumed by devotion to a universal demand. on the contrary. in tu ition. . to a vision of reality. and in that domain the full panoply o f knowing-aesthetic sensibility. Like love. but the very reverse-a call to the Pygmalion in the mind of man. Such is the true sense of objectivity in science . must reflect a deeply personal way of viewing the world: [P)ersonal knowledge in science is not made but discovered. despite its apparent austerity and aloofness. the Reason that underlies reality and governs all physi cal and organic nature. this commitment is a "shin of flame. It is not a counsel of self-effacement. For we live in it as in the garment of our own skin. ( 1 962. limiting scien­ t ific meth od to only a narrow wedge of experience and modes of knowing. more importantly perhaps. to which it is akin. . science is a passion. or what you will. He would employ objectivity as a humane tool: Objectivity . The problem of integrating d t ffere nt layers of reality coupled to the endeavor of widening the scope of i nves tigat ion would then become a challenge of devising inclusive . It inspires us.

This spectrum of emotions appears in the scientist's everyday work-from postulating new experiments to their final public judgment-and. this insight has a long history. is essentially mean­ ingless. scientific findings alone are insuffic i e n t for determining significance. Lewis Wol pert and Alison Richards ( 1 997) have amply documented (again) among a diverse group of practicing scientists how subjectivity is at play in a ny assessment-whether wonder. competitiveness. What is the significance of a scientific fact or larger theory unless we may apply it to human understanding? "Understanding" entails man� layers of interpretation. Raw knowledge. despite the posi­ tivists' valiant attempt to formalize scientific discovery or verification. This perspective is hardly novel. First. ultimately. as did an entire generation following him. Polanyi did not revive subjectivism. Said differently. For Polanyi." became a catchall for the necessary. disappoinr­ ment.SciENCE AND THE QuEsT FOR M EAN I NG cognitive criteria that would loosen the strictures encasing notions of sci­ ence held by his contemporaries. The creativity of th e sc i e nU 1 '· i magi nation res ted on many faculties. passion. the subjective has been recast. Polanyi's project expands postpositivism into realms vacated by objec­ tifying positivism. aesthetic appreciation. and thus interpretation is required. Polanyi thus recogn ized. the sense of meaning and signifi ca nn ascribed to the scientific portrait of the world. Accordingly. H e s p�· c i fi cal ly emphasized the judgmental and interpretative aspects of s cicn· tifi c th i nk i ng. and here we see the linkage to recent const ruc tiv­ ist arguments. and still others considered subve rs ve 1' . I ndeed. objectivity is intrinsically coupled to notions of subjectivity: one cannot speak of objectivity without at least implicit reference to its cou n ­ terpart. nor restricted to an eccentric. and so on. For example. pleasure. which could not be adequately accounted for by so�:· prescribed log i c of scientific discovery. but rather espoused subjec tiv­ ity's recognized role in scientific discovery and theory formation. Science influences its supporting culture. Thus " p er­ sonal knowledge. curiosity. Polanyi embraced them. the values t h at govern its use. some "tacit" and thus bu ried . so nl · i impl ic i t and thus undec l a red. creative elemen ts that cannot be accounted for in the positivist rendition of science. Ins tead of denying the selective process of observation and the interpretati ve character of scientific investigation. a fact. Polanyi focused on the scientist as a unique knower . and. these "contaminating" subjective elements require an accounting. that scientific knowl edge "·1' ultimately human centered in at least two senses.

motivation and empathy. the web of beliefs in which they are situated. In other words.g. and it has had a rich history. aesthetic judgment) m ore s ubtly operative." Accordingly.tfrrem als the participation of extrarational subjectivity extends force­ u o . 2 Emotions color evaluations based on the context of I he i r exp ressi on. the simple inductive model-data in.�). yet we might well ask.. more broadly.. Quine noted that justification for theory choice or deter­ �n • na r io n of relevant information entails a selection rarely understood . analytic ability and its various cohorts are crucial for suc­ c�ss . • I n the scientific setting. or at least inspired. By emphasizing what had heretofore been referred to as emotional c h a racteristics. Polanyi presciently identified and promoted faculties of know i n g that have become key issues in contemporary cognitive psychol­ ogy. a new movement in cognitive psychology has given strong impetus to this intuition by describing multiple forms of "emotional intelligence.• Qu m e's crmque o f the Iogtc of posmvtsm. o f i :n t f tfl c revol uti ons ' to Ronald de Sousa's The Rationality o Emotloll I '> · · · · · · · ' H7 ) . . I ndeed. Polanyi sought to bring the personal into the domain of science. l. intelligence is typically regarded as a para­ mou n t cog nitive virtue. conc lusio ns out--could not capture the scientific process at the level of th e individ ual scientist creating and interpreting her research. it appears that the su ccessful ability to navigate the world also depends on such measurable qual i ties as social sensitivities and self-awareness. This was Web er's strategy (albeit undeveloped). what kind of intelligencr. discussed �do. as Polanyi himself observed. The theme that evaluation of epistemic judg­ s ve :11�1n. to K u h n s stud Y. without the radical de-legitimization of science itself. This suggests that emotions can render information salient. b oth in assessing the intersection of art and science and in attempting to d ec iphe r the cognitive or. he endeavored to broaden scientific thinking to include the personal. Such acumen contributes to the a bility o f effectively applying analytical aptitude and the other multiple dimensions of cognition (Nussbaum 200 1 ). typically remain tacit (Polanyi d�m 1 ?66) . but effectiveness also requires judgments that are emotionally based. or we m ight say.THE FALL oF PosiTIVISM and thus even sc ie n ce as normally understood (e. l�ahh n g s election of some and thereby weaning the overwhelming influx r "1 I h e e st ( de Sousa 1 987). self-control and self­ p rojection. beyond IQ. L: ndoubtedly. To be sure. and these e n rs .n a n y ri gorous "rational" fashion (Quine 1 953a/ 1 96 1 / 1 980. But he chastened those who denied their cogni­ ti ve co n trib utions. the psychology of scientific c reat ivity. .

we may draw a direct line from Goethe to Pol anya a nd · · . Thus. that quest seems justifi ed o n the merits of understanding the scientific process in its full employment . To separate scientific rationality from other components of intel­ ligence as some distinct and independent ability distorts the process. Herein lies the central point: coh er­ ence of thought requires the integration of all those elements that go i n to thinking-traditionally conceived rationality and emotion (the latter of which is all too often understood as "irrational"). 259). Perhaps more to the point. appreciating that emotion plays its own role in t h e objectivity of scientific research suggests that the unified reason we seek already resides in the ongoing project of understanding how integrati on of various faculties of knowing might comprise a more compreh en sive theory of reason. for thinking in all of its various formats requires emotional judgment. Each argued for the aesthetic faculty as accoun ting for a critical component of human intelligence (Tauber 1 996b). while some emphasize the aesthetic influences on decision maki ng (Tauber 1 996b). Nevertheless. Our web of beliefs (discussed below) is diverse (Nelson 1 990). This perspective has a venerable history. Before Polanyi. de Sousa perceives that emotion more generally estab­ lishes patterns of relevance among objects of attention and inferen ti al strategies. I n any case. and anv representation has attached to it an "emotional valance" (Bower 1 98 1 ) that must be factored into the calculus of judgment. it seems plain that at this level of intuitive emotional content. Kant des ig· nated "judgment.SciENCE AND TH E QuEsT FOR M EAN I NG Because of the holistic character of decision and belief formation we must also factor in the role of emotion as a cognitive faculty in fill � ing gaps in reason and perception (Hookway 2002.' as something that comes 'before reasons' " (26 0) . While coheren ce has been formalized (Thagard 2000)." Goethe perceived the archetype (Tauber 1 993) and Nietzsche championed "art" in their respective attempts to characre rizt> the complex interplay of analytical and emotional faculties that resul t in achieving insight. However relevance is established or balance attained. Such pattern s of salience that emotional processing provides can then functio n " as 'a source of reasons. quantitative designations are highly impro b­ able. all commentators are seeking the means by which the multiple elements of cognitio n are assimilated and action prioritized. Others pose the balance more abstractly as a complex mix tu re of "informed intuition based on emotional coherence" (Thagard 2000) . wh ile co n · te mporary commentators have emphasized broader categories of con si de r· atlo n .

they remain insistently present." and "sci­ en t i fic progress. Maslow 1 966. D espite the positivists' best efforts. one filled with mean­ i ng and signification. as opposed to peering at it as a spectator. wheth er addressed in philosophy. Root-Bernstein 1 989)." "scientific rationality. The romantics placed this problem front and center. Although such psychological factors a re ra rely discussed. Polanyi readily falls into this tradition because for him. how to i n tegrate different kinds of intelligence reflected the deeper metaphysical issue of how to make the world whole-whole in the sense of placing the i nd i vidual in the world. beyond the aesthetic components at play in scientific judgment. the line separating objectivity from subjectivity is highly dynamic.TH E FALL OF PosiTIVISM b eyon d: human imagination exercised in its various modalities is linked by di verse forms of human creativity. when e a c h o f these categories was placed under a critical lens. Personal meaning is the union of objective knowledge and subjec­ t ive modalities of various kinds. Certainly." "scientific objectivity. and con­ t in uously contested. Indeed. Faust 1 984. In large measure a hagiography of "scien­ r�c t i fi c m ethod. Therefore." the Standard View portrayed science as logical in its ord e red defini tion of the real. an emotional motivation rests at the base of the entire enter­ prise. After all. the complexity of the natural world. and the evolution of nature. On this view. the order of natural processes. albeit largely unac­ co u nted for in our comprehension of scientific reasoning (e. Interpretation originates in the same metaphysical won der that stimulates scientific inquiry in the first place. not only is some portion of the scientific enterprise beholden to subjective elements.. "the idolatry" (Zammito Pr io r . And each domain of i n quiry has offered a picture of the world in which a systematic study provides not only factual knowledge but also a world that must be inter­ preted and integrated into a personal worldview. poetry. but does so as a result of drawing upon those sources. it was found to fa i l t h eir own cognitive standards. Kuhn: Raising the Lid of Pandora's Box to 1 960. or psychology. historically contextualized. what passed for philosophy and history of science we now all as the Standard View. the analytic and logical skills of the scientist ultimately serve some existential function as well. The scientific project has expanded the reaches of time and space. the scientific endeavor offe rs a worldview that not only supplements other ways of knowing.g.

and methodological arrangements of the time. of science as logically progressing and pos· sessing universal and unwavering objective criteria to describe nature-i� perhaps a product of con8ating science's declared ideal aspirations wi rh the more subjective and heterogeneous nature of its enterprises. as already discussed. fact' • . rational fashion. which more than any other work f crippled the scientism of the era. albeit without anticipating the dfect it would have in undermining the entire positivist program.•l truth forever retreats. I n orhrr �ords. The most celebrated of these works was Kuhn's Struaure fo o Seimti Revolutions (1962. that all sciences might be unified under universal principles. but that it was interpreted sympathetically perhaps because he. shattered upon criti­ cal appraisals. The view of the autonomous. the gradual or incremental changes of which canntll acco unt for major scientific revolutions. leaving only &as that cohere in the theoretica l . or what Snutttm described as "paradigm" shifts Kuhn's notion of paradigm-a term no'\ hopelessly weakened by overuse and lost amonpt its various interpreta · tions (Masterman 1970)-represented this perceptual-conceptual holisn 1 of &a and theory. technological. Kuhn erected a mansion. &as cannot claim any autonomous srandi•1� mdependent from particular paradigms in which they are placed. Kuhn maintained that scien­ tific change occurred nonincrementally in sudden leaps. whose nineteen foJ monographs Otto Neurath. and the irony of Kuhn's work is not only that SlrWI:tUre appeared under these auspices.4 If Polanyi built a cabin (l la Thoreau). . In rcfuration. SlrWI:tUre originally appeared as one of several long essays in the logical positivists' project Fountltltions o the Unity of Stimce: f TOUHiwl "" lntn'nllti8111ll EnqempeJill o fUni Stima. Ironically. From this perspective. had universalized the sociology of scientific knowledge. B}· radically challenging the notion of science proceeding in some stepwise. rational growth of scientific thinking-that is. Kuhn cast into doubt the very logic and objectivity of sci­ ence the positivists averred. 52) of science as an extraordinary mode of knowing. The ide· alized description begins with the unquestioned acceptance of scienc�o· as advancing by its rational constructs and achieving its success through some unbridled objectivity. in some sense. of course. 1970). That project was pan of the thesis shared with earlier forms of positivism. fin.3 The natural sciences. protected by self-correcting mechanisms from fallacy and bias. served as models of such knowledge.86 SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING 2004. and Rudolf Carnap edited joindy. Charles Morris.

THE FALL or PosiTIVISM only become facts within their encompassing theory. reflecting the unity and continuity of knowl­ edge. Prior to SlrllnUre. who maintained that science advancccl by rationally exact methods.'ght . The so-c:alled Growth Motlel of the eighteenth century persisted into the twentieth century in the work of George Sanon. history of science (when still entenained as relevant to sci­ ence) was often seen as exercising a beneficial influence on practice. Cohen 1994). Ko)'R 1957). Even into o ur own era. When Goethe wrote on color theory.. Indeed. Joseph Priesdy on dectricity. The Revolutiont�'1 Motlel. as well as the more general prob­ lem of characterizing scientific clevdopment. science was regarded as progressing as it discovered the Real World (Richarcls 1 987). fidfilling ics man­ date to describe nature objec:tivdy. Most scholars would agree that history and philosophy of science began as part of science proper. each of these views regarded science as essentially progressing within ics own system of rational inquiry. What that revolution was and continues to be is open to interpretation (e. they used history to legitimate their own work. the laboratory scientist might profit from history used as an an. much as Goethe had observed at the end of the eighteenth century. Independent ofsocial pressures and historical contingencies.. Although the historical perspective be valued and cenainly governed such innovators as Giambattista 1�0: confusion about historical interpretation as an imponant scholarly Jcnvaty distinct from laboratory science and ongoing theory consauc:tion was un tangled slowly. prior to our own century. Review of the historical development of a particular science was an integral component of the scientific repon. history of science was primarily a rhetorical and theoretical tool in showing how new science was part of a progressive and rational process.g. For exa mple . Whether growth or revolution. �. and thus the histories were governed by the self-image scientists themselves offered of their enterprise. and Charles Lyell o n geology.alytical tool (Kragh 1987. first advocated at the end of the eigh­ teenth century. emphasized the sudden shift of thinking inaugurated by the Scientific Revolution inaugurated by Bacon. but thtll science did indeed undergo a radical methodological and metaphysical shift in the sixteenth century is generally acknowledged (e. Shapin 1996. Galileo. and Copernicus (Butterfidd 1957). the his­ to riography promoted a simple normative view. The pictUre Kuhn pomayed led to an intense historical exploration of specific instances of scientific change.g. 33-34).

and scientific self­ consciousness is not required and thus not sought. According to Kuhn. wh at appears from later perspectives as.88 SCIENCE AND THE QuEST FOR MEANING Kuhn changed the frame of reference. Why dignify what science's best and most persisten t efforts have made it possible to discard? The answer proved an embarrass­ ment. or objectivity. and probably functionally. stepwise. and later the entire discipline. Accordingly. historical consciousness . where there is progress in an accumulative fash ion within a given paradigm from those sudden conceptual changes that gen­ erate a "revolution. ingrained in the ideology of the scientific profess ion. The depreciation of historical fact is deeply. In short. required for such assessment simply has no function in the everyday consciousness of t