Let the poets and artists teach us what science can’t

Let the poets and artists teach us what science can’t

Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam"

Originally published 17 May 1993

Quick. Give a brief def­i­n­i­tion of PCR (poly­merase chain reaction).

Now do the same for ESP (extrasen­so­ry perception).

What can you say about SETI (search for extrater­res­tri­al intelligence)?

How about Yeti (“Big­foot”)?

What is the SSC (super­con­duct­ing supercollider)?

What is a UFO (uniden­ti­fied fly­ing object)?

A few weeks ago I vis­it­ed one of Boston’s best high schools for a dia­logue with stu­dents. I began the dis­cus­sion by list­ing 20 terms on a black­board — the six above and the fol­low­ing: par­al­lel pro­cess­ing, hot (and cold) fusion, rein­car­na­tion, Loch Ness Mon­ster, COBE (Cos­mic Back­ground Explor­er satel­lite), Shroud of Turin, frac­tals, close encoun­ters of the third kind, the Genome Project, the Bermu­da Tri­an­gle, Adam and Eve, super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty, scan­ning tun­nel­ing micro­scope, and horoscope.

I went through the list one by one, ask­ing for a show of hands on the fol­low­ing ques­tion: “For which top­ics could you give a rea­son­ably con­fi­dent explanation?”

You can guess the out­come. For half of the top­ics, only a few hands went up. For the oth­er half, most hands in the room were raised. I’m sure you can guess which top­ics fell into each category.

Half of the top­ics are drawn from cut­ting-edge con­tem­po­rary sci­ence. They refer to impor­tant devel­op­ments that have the poten­tial to pro­found­ly change the way we live our lives or the way we under­stand our world.

The oth­er half refer to things which the sci­en­tif­ic com­mu­ni­ty would say have no lit­er­al truth value.

I have no doubt that the exer­cise would have pro­duced the same result with a typ­i­cal non­science class at Har­vard, or almost any oth­er audi­ence. We are, it would seem, vast­ly less knowl­edge­able about sci­ence than about pseu­do­science and superstition.

The COBE satel­lite observes the first moments of the Big Bang, the very flash of the Cre­ation. The super­con­duct­ing super­col­lid­er, if built, will allow us to expe­ri­ence con­di­tions that exist­ed in the ear­li­est uni­verse, as mat­ter came into exis­tence out of the pri­mor­dial light.

Mas­sive­ly par­al­lel-pro­cess­ing com­put­ers, with frac­tals and oth­er kinds of com­put­er-based math­e­mat­ics, may (in my opin­ion) lead to the most sweep­ing trans­for­ma­tion of sci­ence since the Sci­en­tif­ic Rev­o­lu­tion of the 17th century.

PCR pro­vides a way to repli­cate tiny quan­ti­ties of DNA mil­lions of times over; it may turn out to be the most impor­tant inven­tion of the 20th cen­tu­ry. The Genome Project will pro­vide a com­plete genet­ic blue­print for a human being — word by word, let­ter by letter.

The scan­ning tun­nel­ing micro­scope allows us to “see” indi­vid­ual atoms and move them about at will.

Fusion and super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty will trans­form the way civ­i­liza­tion pro­duces and uses energy.

SETI may answer the ques­tion: Are we the unri­valed lords of the cos­mos, or mere­ly commonplace?

This stuff is impor­tant, huge­ly impor­tant, and about it we know — as a peo­ple — almost noth­ing. Mean­while, we wal­low in the wildest forms of super­sti­tion and dis­cred­it­ed myths. Why?

The high school stu­dents to whom I spoke had excel­lent answers. We can relate pseu­do­science and super­sti­tion to our per­son­al lives; sci­ence, on the oth­er hand, is remote and for­bid­ding. Pseu­do­science and super­sti­tion are easy to under­stand; sci­ence is com­plex and inac­ces­si­ble. The for­mer are part of our his­to­ry, lit­er­a­ture, and cul­ture; the lat­ter are as new as yes­ter­day. The pop­u­lar media strong­ly rein­forces the for­mer; the lat­ter are rel­e­gat­ed to a cor­ner of the cur­ricu­lum and forgotten.

Thus, the schiz­o­phre­nia of our age: We embrace sci­ence as the provider of our health, wealth, and tech­nolo­gies, yet we live our lives as if none of it were true. We pre­tend we still inhab­it the Earth-cen­tered uni­verse of our ances­tors, in which even the stars are atten­dant upon of human lives, although every­thing we have learned about the uni­verse sug­gests oth­er­wise. We wrap our­selves in easy truths, and take what we can get from sci­ence, no ques­tions asked.

We want to have our cake and eat it too.

There’s noth­ing wrong with that, I sup­pose, noth­ing wrong with liv­ing with two con­tra­dic­to­ry kinds of truth. How­ev­er, it seems to me that in doing so we den­i­grate that which is most won­der­ful about us — the capac­i­ty to know. To explore the vast cos­mic reach­es of space and time. To unrav­el aston­ish­ing mys­ter­ies of life and intel­li­gence. To encom­pass with­in the human brain an image of a uni­verse of almost unimag­in­able scope, com­plex­i­ty, and beauty.

The prob­lem, of course, is that the sci­en­tif­ic image of the uni­verse is almost unimag­in­able. So we shall just have to become more imag­i­na­tive, more dar­ing, more will­ing to stretch. In that, we will be bet­ter served if sci­en­tif­ic knowl­edge is wrest­ed from sci­en­tists by poets, artists, his­to­ri­ans, philoso­phers, and the­olo­gians, and trans­formed into a new vision of human worth, expressed in ordi­nary language.

It has hap­pened before. It hap­pened in the Enlight­en­ment, when the sci­ence of Coper­ni­cus, Galileo, Descartes, and New­ton was forged into new instru­ments of art, music, lit­er­a­ture, reli­gion, and polit­i­cal equal­i­ty. It could hap­pen again, this time as part of a glob­al cul­ture, incor­po­rat­ing the col­lec­tive wis­dom of the past into a new syn­the­sis with science.

It bet­ter hap­pen. Oth­er­wise we will con­tin­ue on our schizoid track, behold­en to sci­en­tists, benumbed by tech­nol­o­gy, lapsed in super­sti­tion, fright­ened and igno­rant of what is good and best with­in ourselves.

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