They keep using that word. I do not think it means what they think it means.

There was a science and skepticism conference in Manchester last weekend, where a lot of smart people got together to give their critical thinking skills and scientific skepticism some healthy flexing. Yet what was otherwise a commendable affair was marred by the frankly silly title (and topic) of one discussion panel: Is Science the New Religion?

How can fluent English speakers so egregiously misuse the word ‘religion’? Do they need to have its proper definition tattooed on the inside of their forearms for convenient reference?   

One person who won’t be facepalming with me in solidarity is the journalist Brendan O’Neill, who was on that ridiculous panel and uttered suitably ridiculous things about science and politics. O’Neill thinks that politics is in danger of being influenced by too much science. He warns us:

The worst thing is that politicians’ increasing reliance on science, and some scientists’ willingness to go along with this, shrinks the space for public, mass engagement in policymaking. The more politics becomes an experts’ pursuit, the less room there is for the public’s ideological or passionate or angry or prejudicial views.

And this is a bad thing? O’Neill gives voice to a sadly common anti-intellectualism displayed by those who think that, in the words of Isaac Asimov, their ignorance is just as good as an expert’s knowledge. O’Neill also confuses the (very real) problem of politicians cherry-picking scientific data that support their biases with the actual process of science; the former is a subjective vice on the part of dishonest politicians, while the latter is a provisionally objective pursuit of knowledge about reality that isn’t beholden to partisan views on government. Science is certainly affected by politics through government funding, laws and regulations, but no amount of political pressure can force physicists to change the laws of nature, or get biologists to concede that the theory of evolution is false.

The comedian and science populariser Robin Ince was on that panel with O’Neill, and he was “startle-eyed” by the copious amounts of inanity gushing from his fellow panelist. Ince comments on O’Neill’s anti-expert rhetoric in a sharply humorous blog post, which includes this observation:

There is a gaggle that seems to consider that expertise is an unfair advantage, that all opinions are equal; an idea that people who are experts in climate change, drugs or engineering are given unfair preference just because they spend much of their life studying these things. I do not think it is fascism that heart surgeons seem to have the monopoly of placing hands in a chest cavity and fiddling with an aorta. Though I have my own opinions on driving, I have decided to let others do it, as I have never taken a lesson. I do not consider myself oppressed by the driving majority. I own an umbrella and a thermometer, but I do not believe this is enough to place me on a climate change advisory body.

A charitable reading of O’Neill’s arguments might suggest that he is simply decrying ‘scientism’: the unjustified belief that science holds all the answers to all our problems, including ethical ones. I’m not convinced that O’Neill is actually criticising scientism. His comments clearly show that he is uncomfortable with scientific expertise itself, with the idea that politics is improved by the input of the best scientific knowledge we currently possess in various fields. O’Neill’s position is in stark contrast to that of the philosopher Massimo Pigliucci, who is a strong critic of scientism yet is a champion for science. In the aptly titled chapter ‘The Limits of Science’ in his book Answers for Aristotle, Pigliucci writes:

The idea underlying this chapter is that science is neither the new god nor something that should be cavalierly dismissed. As a society, we need a thoughtful appreciation not only of how science works but also of its power and its limits. This isn’t just an (interesting, I would submit) intellectual exercise: how we think about science has huge personal and societal consequences, affecting our decisions about everything from whether to vaccinate our children to whether to vote for a politician who wants to enact policies to curb climate change. We cannot all become experts, especially in the many highly technical fields of modern science, but it is crucial for our own well-being that we understand the elements of how science works (and occasionally fails to), that we become informed skeptics about the claims that are made on behalf of science, and that we also do our part to nudge society away from an increasingly dangerous epistemic relativism.

Pigliucci has an acute, even wise, understanding of both the limits of science and its power to affect change for the better, especially when politicians grant it the respect it deserves. O’Neill on the other hand just doesn’t like uppity nerds oppressing common folks like him with their ‘facts’ and ‘expertise’.

Via Pharyngula

17.4.13

Science, philosophy and morality

One of the things that I enjoy about discussions and debates on ideas is when my views are changed by good arguments. Cogent arguments have almost the same visceral effect on me as seeing well-landed hits in a kickboxing match; I am impressed by the skillfully executed maneuver that demolishes, or at least weakens, an opponent. Of course, I prefer being a spectator of intellectual bouts rather than physical ones. The former are usually more enlightening, especially when they cause me to reexamine my position on some subject matter, perhaps even abandon it.

I’ve had my mind changed on the subject of whether science can, and should, determine moral values. When I read Sam Harris’s book The Moral Landscape, I was convinced by his well-articulated thesis that science can determine our ethical values. I agreed with his argument that empirical facts about what contributes to human well-being (and what doesn’t) can be used to inform, even improve, our existing moral codes. And yes, I confess that I was inspired by Harris’s bold claim that a future where moral relativism was a relic of a more ignorant time can be achieved by ever-expanding scientific knowledge of human nature.

Then I read what his critics had to say.

Massimo Pigliucci had one of the more trenchant responses to The Moral Landscape. There were other equally sharp critics, but I’ll stick to just Pigliucci for now because recently he had to school another Harris-like ideologue who believes that “most scientists have conceded the high ground of determining human values, morals, and ethics to philosophers, agreeing that science can only describe the way things are but never tell us how they ought to be,” which apparently is a “mistake”. Sam Harris’s fellow traveler is the skeptic and writer Michael Shermer, who is actually one of my intellectual heroes for his role in promoting science, rational thought and skepticism. Alas, Shermer’s enthusiasm for science has caused him to set greater store in it than it warrants, at least as far as morality is concerned.

Pigliucci’s dissection of Shermer’s arguments is worth reading in full, but here are the main points that I have taken from it:

First, Shermer attacks a straw man when he claims that scientists and philosophers do not believe that science can determine moral values. No reasonable scientist or philosopher would deny that morality can be informed by scientific discoveries in psychology, neuroscience and sociology (for example). But to the extent that such knowledge can ‘determine’ moral values, there is still a need for philosophical reasoning. Science can tell us what factors increase or decrease human well-being, but we still need philosophy to interrogate the assumptions we have about concepts like ‘well-being’ or ‘happiness’. Science is ill-equipped for this crucial task.

Second, Shermer’s assertions are often presumptuous. For instance, his claim that “moral values must be based on the way things are in order to establish the best conditions for human flourishing”, or using the term “human flourishing” itself, presumes a clean-cut definition or solution that doesn’t exist. He takes his particular conception of “the way things are” and “human flourishing” as given premises, when it’s really a bit more complicated than that, and not as uncontroversial as he seems to think. People like Shermer and Sam Harris fail to show philosophical rigour (because one shouldn’t make axiomatic claims on a priori grounds that haven’t been justified) in their haste to make their points. That’s just poor form in argumentation.

Third, no reasonable person, certainly not philosophers, will argue that philosophy is better than science at discovering facts about the world and human nature. As Pigliucci puts it, “That would be like arguing that chemistry is better than history at figuring out things about the Roman empire.” But no amount of fact-finding and data-accumulating by science will obviate the need for a value judgment on certain matters. And here is where moral philosophy is required for us to reason about what the right, or ethical, choice should be. But this isn’t to say that scientific knowledge shouldn’t influence our moral reasoning. It certainly should. It just can’t supplant moral reasoning/philosophising.

The ‘science, philosophy and morality’ issue has been an illuminating one to follow. I definitely think that Massimo Pigliucci has wiped the floor with Michael Shermer in this bout, thereby demonstrating the important role of philosophy in making sure that advocates for a (mostly) science-based morality tighten up their arguments. And start showing philosophy a little bit more respect.

25.1.13

How important exactly is science to the economy?

When US senator Marco Rubio failed to acknowledge that the Earth was billions of years old during an interview for GQ magazine, scientifically literate folks pounced. Astronomer and science writer Phil Plait took particular umbrage at Senator Rubio’s dismissive statement that the age of the Earth “has nothing to do with the gross domestic product or economic growth of the United States.” In a Slate article, Plait retorts (emphasis his):

Perhaps Senator Rubio is unaware that science—and its sisters engineering and technology—are actually the very foundation of our country’s economy? All of our industry, all of our technology, everything that keeps our country functioning at all can be traced back to scientific research and a scientific understanding of the Universe.

Cell phones, computers, cars, machinery, medicine, the Internet, manufacturing, communication, agriculture, transportation, on and on … all of these industries rely on science to work. Without basic research none of these would exist.

And all of science points to the age of the Earth being much, much older than Senator Rubio intimates. Astronomy, biology, relativity, chemistry, physics, anatomy, sociology, linguistics, cosmology, anthropology, evolutionary science, and especially radiometric dating of rocks all indicate the Universe, and our home planet Earth, are far older than any claims of a few thousand years. The overwhelming consensus is that the Earth is billions of years old. And all of these sciences are the basis of the technology that is our country’s life blood.

Writing for the New York Times, economist Paul Krugman also criticised Senator Rubio’s view that geological knowledge is unconnected to economic strength:

Coming back to the age of the earth: Does it matter? No, says Mr. Rubio, pronouncing it “a dispute amongst theologians”—what about the geologists?—that “has nothing to do with the gross domestic product or economic growth of the United States.” But he couldn’t be more wrong.

We are, after all, living in an era when science plays a crucial economic role. How are we going to search effectively for natural resources if schools trying to teach modern geology must give equal time to claims that the world is only 6000 years old? How are we going to stay competitive in biotechnology if biology classes avoid any material that might offend creationists?

So far, I’m with Plait and Krugman. After all, isn’t it obvious that scientific literacy is essential for a technology-based economy to flourish? Not necessarily so, according to Slate writer Daniel Engber. Responding to Phil Plait’s article, Engber challenges the view that a country’s economy depends on an absolute knowledge of science. He writes:

What about Rubio’s assertion that the age of the Earth “has nothing to do with the gross domestic product or economic growth of the United States”? That’s the claim that gave Phil Plait “a chill,” since science is “the very foundation of our country's economy.” At Forbes, Alex Knapp declares that “this economy, at its root, is built on a web of scientific knowledge from physics to chemistry to biology. It’s impossible to just cherry pick out parts we don’t like.” If we get it wrong on Earth’s creation, these critics say, the United States will fall apart.

Will it really? It seems to me that Rubio is right. Lots of basic scientific questions have no bearing whatsoever on the nation's short-term economic growth. We can even go much further: Lots of scientific questions don’t matter all that much when it comes to other scientific questions. It’s possible—and quite common—for scientists to plug away at research projects without explicit knowledge of what’s happening in other fields. And when a bedrock principle of science does need to be adjusted—a not-so-unusual occurrence, it turns out—the edifice of scholarship doesn’t crumble into dust. DVD players still operate. Nuclear plants don't shut down.

Philosopher Massimo Pigliucci agrees with Engber. On his blog Rationally Speaking, Pigliucci explains why people like Phil Plait and Paul Krugman (and Pigliucci himself, initially) are wrong to believe that the kind of ignorance of (or disrespect for) science displayed by Senator Rubio is ipso facto damaging to science, or the economy, as a whole:

There is a deeper philosophical reason why Engber is right and people like Phil and myself ought to be more cautious with our outrage at the cutting of scientific budgets or at politicians’ opportunistic uttering of scientific nonsense to gather supporters and votes. Knowledge in general, and scientific knowledge in particular, is not like an edifice with foundations — a common but misleading metaphor. If it were, it would be more likely that, as Phil so strongly stated, everything is connected to everything else, so that ignoring, denying, or replacing one piece of the building will likely create fractures all over the place.

But that’s not how it works. Rather, to use philosopher W.V.O. Quine’s apt metaphor, knowledge is more like a web, with some threads being stronger or more interconnected than others. […] If you see science as a web of statements, observations, experiments, and theories, then it becomes perfectly clear why Engber is right at pointing out that quite a bit of independence exists between different parts of the web, and how even relatively major chunks of said web can be demolished and replaced without the whole thing crumbling. There really is next to no connection between someone’s opinions about the age of the earth and that person’s grasp of the state and causes of a country’s economy.

Pigliucci’s use of the ‘science is a web’ metaphor is persuasive. But before you think that he is letting anti-scientific folks like Senator Rubio, creationists and ‘alternative’ medicine advocates off the hook, Pigliucci clarifies his position on the value of science and evidence-based reasoning (emphasis his):

Still, there is an important point where Phil is absolutely correct and that I think Engber underestimates. What is “chilling” and disturbing about people like Rubio (but not people like Obama) is that they have embraced a general philosophy of rejecting evidence and reason whenever it is ideologically or politically convenient. That is what is highly dangerous.

I can see Pigliucci’s point about how science isn’t a monolithic edifice that will collapse when its foundations are cracked by ignorance and rejection of facts. I accept his argument that science is actually a web, where torn or missing threads in one part may not affect the structural integrity of the whole, or other parts of the web. Still, as Pigliucci concedes, this does not excuse anti-scientific attitudes. A country’s economic prosperity may not be entirely dependent on the scientific literacy of its leaders, but a culture that enables, even encourages, ignorance and rejection of knowledge surely isn’t a healthy one.

1.12.12

Now THIS is a real self-help book

No simplistic aphorisms. No New Age mumbo-jumbo. No treacly flattery, or cheery exhortations to ‘think positive’. Just science and philosophy, presented by someone who is adept at both.

I’m a regular reader of Massimo Pigliucci’s blog Rationally Speaking, where he and his co-bloggers take a philosophical approach to topics of common human concern: ethics, politics, religion, economics, education, science, technology, art, culture, emotions, consciousness. Pigliucci is a trained biologist who currently teaches philosophy at the City University of New York, and his new book Answers for Aristotle: How Science and Philosophy Can Lead Us to a More Meaningful Life is essentially a physical manifestation of his life’s work: to show how science and philosophy reinforce each other in creating knowledge and wisdom, in helping us understand both the world and ourselves. As he puts it:

The basic idea is to explore “the big questions” (you know, the usual suspects: morality, relationships, politics) from the joint perspective of the best science and the most compelling philosophy available to date. After all, the standard answers to those questions come from either religion or folk wisdom, the first one being based on imaginary entities and their arbitrary pronouncements, and the second being, shall we say, somewhat more fallible than one would wish.

In this respect Pigliucci differs from notable intellectuals like Sam Harris, Stephen Hawking and Lawrence Krauss, since these three (to varying degrees) place greater store by science than philosophy. Pigliucci has taken both Harris and Krauss to task for their dismissive attitude to philosophy and corresponding glorification of science. I used to be sympathetic to Harris’s argument that science can answer moral questions, but Pigliucci’s counter-arguments were very persuasive. While I still dislike the term ‘scientism’ (used pejoratively to imply a reductionist worldview, which I think is inaccurate and unfair), I do agree with Pigliucci that good science requires sound philosophical premises and justifications, and that the ‘big questions’ cannot all be answered by science alone.

Answers for Aristotle is definitely going on my to-read list. I have a feeling that it will be ‘meatier’ than similar self-improvement books by philosophers like Alain De Botton or AC Grayling, due to the science. Judging by his blog posts and magazine articles, Pigliucci is an eloquent, knowledgeable writer who can bridge the (perhaps illusory) gap between science and philosophy for his readers, enriching their lives in the process.

28.9.12

Some thoughts on Atheism+

Well, it didn’t take long for certain prominent members of the community of reason to weigh in on the freshly minted Atheism Plus, or A+, movement. There’s an A+ outline and response to its critics by PZ Myers, and two observations/criticisms by Ronald Lindsay and Massimo Pigliucci respectively. While I agree with Myers that disbelief in gods and religious doctrines would entail “significant consequences for how we should structure our society” and therefore atheism is not just “an abstraction floating in the academic ether”, I also agree with Lindsay’s and Pigliucci’s argument that secular humanism already addresses the same issues and champions the same causes as A+, making the new movement almost redundant.

To me, A+ is largely a branding exercise. One of the movement’s founders, Jen McCreight, has stated as much, saying that the ‘Atheism Plus’ concept is “fabulous marketing-wise and as a way to identify yourself as a progressive atheist.” Proponents of A+ are trying to imbue the word ‘atheism’ with connotations in addition to its mere dictionary definition. Some like Myers actually disdain the idea of a ‘dictionary atheist’, since they see it as a narrow, limited conception of what atheism should mean.

From a linguistic perspective, this attempt by the A+ crowd to shoehorn additional meanings into the word ‘atheism’ seems silly; it would be like trying to make the word ‘teetotaler’ also mean ‘a person who upholds values like temperance, self-discipline and sobriety’. Sure, these things can be associated with the word ‘teetotaler’, just as additional values outside of disbelief in gods can be associated with the word ‘atheist’. But these extraneous meanings are not, strictly speaking, implicit in both words. A teetotaler is someone who abstains from alcohol (for whatever reasons), and an atheist is someone who doesn’t believe in gods (for whatever reasons), period.

So that’s the linguistic perspective. However, from a sociopolitical perspective, A+ proponents have a valid reason for wanting to ‘inflate’ the meaning of the word ‘atheism’ beyond its dictionary definition. Greta Christina has touched on this reason, which is to destigmatise the words ‘atheism’ and ‘atheist’ by impressing the progressive values that A+ stands for upon the minds of the general public, and in a sense teach the public to associate the word ‘atheism/atheist’ with those ethical values. So while pedants may complain, the practical effect is the gradual reduction of the negativity currently attached to atheism, at least in highly religious societies.

Furthermore, from a strategic viewpoint, it makes sense for A+ folks to use the word ‘atheism’ rather than ‘humanism’, even though A+ and secular humanism share similar values and goals: ‘atheism’ is punchier (aka controversial), and the emotional response it elicits from both proponents and opponents makes it a ‘sticky’ word. And as any marketing professional can attest, a good brand is a sticky brand.

As if there isn’t already a glut of atheist/humanist movements, we also have Michael Nugent of Atheist Ireland writing up a manifesto for what he calls ‘Ethical Atheism’. Nugent’s preamble below makes the same argument as PZ Myers did in his blog post: that atheism necessarily entails social and political consequences.

In real life, atheism means more than mere disbelief in gods, or belief that there are no gods. If you disbelieve in gods, it necessarily follows that you also disbelieve that we get our ideas of truth and morality from gods. This is a significant approach to two central questions about life, in a world where most people believe the opposite.

This is a draft manifesto for ethical atheists who care about both truth and morality, and who want to promote reason, critical thinking and science; atheism over supernaturalism; natural compassion and ethics; inclusive, caring atheist groups; fair and just societies; secular government; and local, national and global solidarity.

Ethical atheism is more useful than dictionary atheism, because it applies the consequences of our atheism to real life. Ethical atheism is more precise than secular humanism, because religious people can be both secular and humanist, and because ethics affects all sentient beings and not just humans.

Despite the different labels being tossed around, one thing that Michael Nugent, PZ Myers, Ronald Lindsay, Massimo Pigliucci, Jen McCreight, Greta Christina and other atheists agree on is that regardless of which label we choose to affiliate with, what matters is our ethical, godless commitment to make this world a better place for everyone. Let’s keep this in mind whenever we are tempted to denigrate our allies.

30.8.12