Getting down to bedrock

Getting down to bedrock

Photo by FLY:D on Unsplash

Originally published 16 February 1998

In 1989, Pres­i­den­t’s Bush’s “Amer­i­ca 2000” agen­da set the goals of mak­ing US stu­dents first in the world in sci­ence and math­e­mat­ics and ensur­ing that every adult Amer­i­can knew enough about sci­ence to par­tic­i­pate respon­si­bly in nation­al debates about sci­en­tif­ic issues.

These goals have not yet been met.

Accord­ing to recent sur­veys, less than half of Amer­i­can adults know that the Earth revolves about the sun once a year. Less than half accept the idea that humans evolved from ear­li­er species of ani­mals. Only 12 per­cent agree that astrol­o­gy is “not at all scientific.”

Jon Miller of North­ern Illi­nois Uni­ver­si­ty, who has polled thou­sands of peo­ple on these sorts of ques­tions, esti­mates that only 6 per­cent of Amer­i­can adults can be called sci­en­tif­i­cal­ly literate.

Writ­ing in the Jan­u­ary 23 [1998] issue of the Chron­i­cle of High­er Edu­ca­tion, Kei­th Devlin, dean of sci­ence at St. Mary’s Col­lege of Cal­i­for­nia and a senior researcher at Stan­ford Uni­ver­si­ty’s Cen­ter for the Study of Lan­guage and Infor­ma­tion, asks whether “sci­en­tif­ic lit­er­a­cy” is an appro­pri­ate goal.

It is nei­ther pos­si­ble nor nec­es­sary for the gen­er­al pop­u­la­tion to have detailed sci­en­tif­ic knowl­edge across a range of dis­ci­plines, says Devlin. Sci­ence has become too broad, too com­plex, too spe­cial­ized for even a sci­en­tist to keep up-to-date.

Nec­es­sar­i­ly, we have to rely on experts, he says. But how do we eval­u­ate the experts? How can we dis­tin­guish between the true expert and the quack? How do we assess sci­en­tif­ic evidence?

What we should shoot for as a nation is not “sci­en­tif­ic lit­er­a­cy,” says Devlin, but “sci­en­tif­ic aware­ness” — an under­stand­ing of what sci­ence is about and what it means to estab­lish a “sci­en­tif­ic fact.”

Devlin writes: “When I say that all adults should be sci­en­tif­i­cal­ly aware, I mean that they should base their opin­ions on fact and observ­able evi­dence rather than on prej­u­dice or assump­tions; be will­ing to change their opin­ions based on new evi­dence; under­stand cause-and-effect rela­tion­ships; and appre­ci­ate how sci­ence is done — in par­tic­u­lar, under­stand the role played by obser­va­tion and exper­i­ment in estab­lish­ing a sci­en­tif­ic con­clu­sion, and know what the terms ‘sci­en­tif­ic the­o­ry’ and ‘sci­en­tif­ic fact’ mean.”

These are laud­able goals, but sure­ly they are even more dif­fi­cult to embed in our edu­ca­tion­al sys­tem than the com­mu­ni­ca­tion of basic sci­en­tif­ic facts and the­o­ries about the world.

It would be fan­tas­tic if our schools could turn out cit­i­zens who under­stand and appre­ci­ate the sci­en­tif­ic process, but the evi­dence sug­gests that we are sink­ing deep­er and deep­er into a quag­mire of super­sti­tion, pseu­do­science, and New Age quack­ery. Not only can’t we dis­tin­guish sci­en­tif­ic knowl­edge from crank opin­ion, we seem to pos­i­tive­ly pre­fer the latter.

By all means, then, let’s move to meet Devlin’s goal of “sci­en­tif­ic aware­ness,” but in the mean­time let’s not give up on “sci­en­tif­ic literacy.”

Here are six bits of knowl­edge that should con­sti­tute min­i­mum sci­en­tif­ic lit­er­a­cy for every grade-school grad­u­ate. They should not be hard to teach, if one year of the cur­ricu­lum were devot­ed to each:

  1. The world is big. With our best tele­scopes we observe a uni­verse of tens of bil­lions of galax­ies. Each galaxy con­sists of hun­dreds of bil­lions of stars. Most of those stars prob­a­bly have plan­et sys­tems. Our Earth is a typ­i­cal plan­et of a typ­i­cal star in a typ­i­cal cor­ner of a typ­i­cal galaxy.
  2. The world is old. Human time is not cos­mic time. If a year is rep­re­sent­ed by the thick­ness of a play­ing card, all of record­ed human his­to­ry would be a pile of cards about 10 feet high. The age of the uni­verse is about 15 bil­lion years; lay this pile of cards on its side and it would reach from New York to San Francisco.
  3. The world is made of atoms. Nature’s con­struc­tion set is aston­ish­ing­ly sim­ple: pro­tons, neu­trons, elec­trons. Of these, nature makes 92 kinds of atoms, and these com­bine into mol­e­cules. Out of sim­plic­i­ty comes com­plex­i­ty — the clear liq­uid­i­ty of water, the smell of bananas, the blue of the sky. A mol­e­cule called DNA deter­mines your species, your gen­der, the col­or of your eyes.
  4. The world evolves. The his­to­ry of the uni­verse is a grand unfold­ing of mat­ter and form from a seed of pure ener­gy. Stars, plan­ets and life have his­to­ries, deter­mined by law and con­tin­gency — life and death, build­ing up and tear­ing down, beau­ty and ter­ror. Every­thing alive on the plan­et Earth today is relat­ed by com­mon descent from pri­mor­dial ancestors.
  5. Every­thing is con­nect­ed. Our bod­ies are made of star­dust — atoms forged in ear­li­er gen­er­a­tions of stars as they lived and died. Stars, plan­ets, plants, ani­mals, rocks, soil, sea, and atmos­phere are inter­re­lat­ed in a fab­ric of won­drous refine­ment and resilience. We dis­rupt the fab­ric at our peril.
  6. The world is won­der­ful. The more we learn about the form and func­tion of the world, the more we real­ize the depth of our igno­rance, and the more we appre­ci­ate the cre­ation as a source of won­der, awe, rev­er­ence, praise — or as rev­e­la­tion of a pow­er wor­thy of our won­der, awe, rev­er­ence, praise.

These six “facts” are the prod­uct of thou­sands of years of human curios­i­ty, cre­ativ­i­ty, and dis­cov­ery. They should be the proud inher­i­tance of every human child. They are the bedrock of sci­en­tif­ic literacy.

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