Armchairs and white coats: the crisis of the humanities
(on the occasion of the inaugural ‘LUC Philosophy in the World’ lecture by Professor Simon Blackburn
“Philosophers from the 21st century cannot ignore science,” warns the renowned British philosopher Simon Blackburn, “but they should not let themselves be taken over by it.” As technology advances, an increasing number of research domains that have traditionally been located in the sphere of philosophy are being ‘taken over’ by the sciences. With the dawn of fMRI scans and other such instruments, questions about human nature can no longer exclusively be evaluated from within the proverbial philosopher’s armchair – they can be brought into the lab, a research facility with more authority. As a result of this, the gap between the sciences and the humanities is widening at an ever faster pace. “Good for technology,” remarks Blackburn, “bad for science and education.” Reflecting on this crisis of the humanities, Prof. Blackburn points out some fundamental problems with the institutional delivery of science that suggest that science needs input from the humanities.
A problem in today’s physics classroom is that little to no attention is paid to the ontology and metaphysics of science. Illustrating this point, Blackburn tells an amusing – if slightly worrying – anecdote about his daughter who, although able to solve complex equations, did not grasp the concept of ‘energy’. Asking her teacher about this (“what is energy?”), she was simply told to get on and solve the equations. Incidents like this are symptomatic of the widening gap between “ideal science” and the “institutional delivery of science”; the first referring to science as it should be taught and pursued (science as a value or end in itself), the latter referring to the manner in which it is currently taught and pursued. The education of science should not only be about solving equations and ‘mindlessly’ measuring the measureable, it should also provide students with a thorough understanding of what they are doing, of how this is relevant and of how theories are formed. In other words, they should be taught the philosophy of science alongside the content of science, and they should be taught to be critical.
Stressing the importance of being critical, Blackburn points to another problem with the sciences: the often blurred boundary between the ideology of scientists and what they present as scientific fact. This twilight zone between science and opinion is clear especially in claims that pertain to matters like human nature and free will. To illustrate, Blackburn mentions Richard Dawkins’s statement that “we are born selfish.” Presenting this as a scientific fact (without any reservations whatsoever), Dawkins overlooks recent research about human nature that suggests otherwise or at least complicates the claim. “Claims like these,” says Blackburn, “require more philosophical and epistemological thought – they are often a reflection of the spirit of the time.” The spirit of our time, in turn, is influenced by the formation of theories. If we were to accept the views expressed by these scholars as true, we would start acting as if they were true. Statements like “we are born selfish” are dangerous especially because, despite their questionable truth-value, they are presented as facts by people in positions of authority. “A dangerous interface between ideology, science and the humanities,” warns Blackburn.
The gap between ideal science and the institutional delivery of science is further widened by the way in which research is presently funded. Researchers (including scientists and scholars from the humanities) are dependent on the findings or results of their publications for their income and research grants. Yet a lot of science that might open up new research domains or science that is just plain ‘boring’ does not appeal to investors. As a result of this, researchers are often forced to conduct research that satisfies the investor. Dependent on the investor’s satisfaction for their next research grant, they may already be biased toward a result that will satisfy the investor (sometimes actively looking for a statistical correlation that may favour the investor in an otherwise insignificant set of data). If anything, “this is an open invitation to junk science,” remarks Blackburn. Yet it is not only the scientists who are affected by such policies. Philosophers, too, are dependent on their output for their income. Where formerly students of philosophy were taught not to say anything unless they actually had something to say, they are now told (if not pushed) to publish as much as they can. According to Blackburn (and I wholeheartedly agree), this is “a complete debasement of the academic exercise.”
Ending his lecture on a more positive note, Blackburn points out that there are ways to get past these institutional perversions. For instance, thanks to more sources of private research funding, scholars in the United States are not as driven by ‘impact’ indicators as those in the United Kingdom. Even so, the humanities remain under threat and Blackburn’s critique of the institutional delivery of science remains valid. Fortunately, he is not alone in expressing his worry about the present role of the humanities in the sciences and the role of research assessment exercises in funding allocation. Throughout his lecture, I could not help but notice that the worries expressed by Prof. Blackburn resonated with some discussions held within our Disciplinarity & Beyond classes – an encouraging development. Whether it means that Prof. Blackburn’s critique is already being internalised remains to be seen, but I am hopeful that his voice (and the voice of many other critics) will be heard. All in all, an inspiring – if worrying – lecture, and from within my comfortable armchair I can wholeheartedly say that Prof. Blackburn has truly changed my life.
Barend de Rooij (LUC, 1st yr student), 4 March 2011
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