Take the example of one of the greatest scientists of the 19th century, Lord Kelvin, who was not immune to overconfidence. In a 1902 interview “on scientific questions now occupying a prominent place in the public mind,” he was asked about the future of air travel: “Have we no hope of solving the problem of air navigation in any way?” ?”
Lord Kelvin replied firmly: “No; I don’t think there is any hope. Neither the balloon, nor the airplane, nor the glider will be a practical success.” The Wright brothers’ first successful flight occurred just over a year later.
Scientific overconfidence is not limited to issues of technology. A few years earlier, Kelvin’s eminent colleague AA Michelson, the first American to win a Nobel Prize in science, expressed an equally surprising opinion about the fundamental laws of physics: “It seems probable that most of the great underlying principles have been now firmly defined. established.”
Over the next few decades – largely due to Michelson’s own work – fundamental physical theory underwent its most dramatic changes since Newton’s time, with the development of the theory of relativity and quantum mechanics “radically and irreversibly” altering our vision of physics. the physical universe.
But is this kind of overconfidence a problem? Maybe it really helps the progress of science? I suggest that intellectual humility is a better and more progressive stance for science.
Thinking about what science knows
As a researcher in the philosophy of science for more than 25 years and former editor of the leading journal in this field, Philosophy of Science, I have had numerous studies and reflections on the nature of scientific knowledge on my desk. The most important issues are not resolved.
How confident should people have in the conclusions reached by science? How confident should scientists have in their own theories?
One ever-present consideration is called “pessimistic induction,” proposed most prominently in modern times by philosopher Larry Laudan. Laudan noted that the history of science is littered with discarded theories and ideas.
It would be almost delusional to think that we have now, finally, found science that will not be discarded. It is much more reasonable to conclude that current science will also, in large part, be rejected or significantly modified by the scientists of the future.
But the pessimistic induction is not the end of the story. An equally powerful consideration, highlighted prominently in modern times by philosopher Hilary Putnam, is called “the argument from the absence of miracles.” It would be a miracle, the argument goes, if successful scientific predictions and explanations were simply accidental or fortunate, that is, if the success of science did not arise from having got something right about the nature of reality.
There must be something to the theories that have, after all, made air travel a reality (not to mention space travel, genetic engineering, etc.). It would be almost illusory to conclude that current theories are simply wrong. It is much more reasonable to conclude that there is something right about them.
A pragmatic argument for overconfidence?
Philosophical theorizing aside, what is best for scientific progress?
Of course, scientists can be wrong about the accuracy of their own positions. Still, there is reason to believe that over the course of history (or, in the cases of Kelvin and Michelson, in a relatively short period), such errors will be revealed.
In the meantime, perhaps it is important to have extreme confidence in doing good science. Perhaps science needs people who doggedly pursue new ideas with the kind of (over)confidence that can also lead to curious statements about the impossibility of air travel or the finality of physics. Yes, it can lead to dead ends, retractions and the like, but maybe that’s just the price of scientific progress.
In the 19th century, in the face of strong and continued opposition, Hungarian physician Ignaz Semmelweis consistently and repeatedly advocated the importance of sanitation in hospitals. The medical community so harshly rejected his idea that he ended up forgotten in an asylum. But apparently he was right, and eventually the medical community accepted his opinion.
Maybe we need people who can fully commit to the truth of their ideas in order to make progress. Maybe scientists should be overconfident. Perhaps they should avoid intellectual humility.
One might hope, as some have argued, that the scientific process – the review and testing of theories and ideas – will eventually weed out wild ideas and false theories. The cream will rise.
But sometimes it takes a long time, and it is not clear that scientific tests, as opposed to social forces, are always the cause of the downfall of bad ideas. The 19th century (pseudo)science of phrenology was brought down “both by its fixation on social categories and by the inability within the scientific community to replicate its findings,” as noted by a group of scientists who put a sort of final nail in the coffin of phrenology in 2018, almost 200 years after its heyday of correlating skull characteristics with mental ability and character.
Intellectual humility as a middle ground
The marketplace of ideas produced the right results in the cases mentioned. Kelvin and Michelson were corrected fairly quickly. Phrenology and hospital sanitation took much longer, and the consequences of this delay were undeniably disastrous in both cases.
Is there a way to encourage the vigorous, committed, and dogged pursuit of new, possibly unpopular, scientific ideas, while recognizing the great value and power of the scientific enterprise as it now stands?
This is where intellectual humility can play a positive role in science. Intellectual humility is not skepticism. It does not imply doubt. An intellectually humble person may have strong commitments to various beliefs (scientific, moral, religious, political, or other) and may pursue those commitments with vigor. His intellectual humility lies in his openness to the possibility, even a great probability, that no one is in possession of the entire truth and that others may also have knowledge, ideas and evidence that should be taken into account when forming their opinions. better judgments. .
Therefore, intellectually humble people will welcome challenges to their ideas, research programs that go against current orthodoxy, and even the pursuit of what might seem like far-fetched theories. Remember, doctors of his day were convinced that Semmelweis was a nutcase.
This openness to research does not imply, of course, that scientists are obliged to accept theories that they consider erroneous. What we should accept is that we too might be wrong, that some good might come from pursuing those other ideas and theories, and that tolerating, rather than persecuting, those who pursue such things might be the best way forward for humanity. science and for humanity. society.
This article is republished from The Conversation, an independent, nonprofit news organization bringing you data and analysis to help you understand our complex world.
It was written by: Michael Dickson, University of South Carolina.
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Michael Dickson does not work for, consult with, own shares in, or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond his academic appointment. This article was produced with support from the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley and the John Templeton Foundation as part of the GGSC’s initiative to expand awareness of the science of intellectual humility.