Chapter 5 is about feminist critiques of science. To the extent that feminists critique the culture of scientific workplaces I freely agree that there is much that is worthy of criticism, much to work on, and much more to be done.
To the extent that feminist critics have gone after scientific knowledge, I would say the following:
1) When people like Sandra Harding offer up essentialist arguments for why some particular idea in the basic sciences is more "masculine" or more "feminine", I think they are not only wrong but dangerous. There's no distinct female perspective on chemical bonding or thermodynamics or electromagnetic waves. To argue that there is risks bringing in the idea that women and men have different comparative advantages in the basic sciences. That idea is not only devoid of empirical support, it is also an open door to justifying gaps and discrimination. Many feminists have thus rejected essentialist arguments, and justifiably so.
2) When feminist critics raise concerns about the topics chosen by applied scientists, I think they have a better argument, at least in some fields. There's no distinctly feminine viewpoint on quality control in chemical synthesis or optimizing the design of fiber-optic networks, but perhaps if there had been more women in biomedical research sooner then it wouldn't have taken so long for the medical community to recognize that heart attack symptoms in women are often (not always) different from those that are most common in men. It's not about whether women or men are more qualified to analyze the data or perform the medical procedures (it's obvious that women and men are equally qualified to work in medical research), it's that much research begins with an anecdote (since every hypothesis lacks proper support before it's tested) and female clinical researchers might notice certain patterns in anecdotes from patients. (Just as male clinical researchers might notice certain patterns in anecdotes.)
Similar things could be said about other areas of medical and behavioral research. Female engineers working on consumer products might pay a bit more attention to, say, differences in average body size, differences in typical user experiences, etc.
A harder issue is the tendency to favor the use of male mice in biomedical research. I've heard many female biomedical researchers defend this practice, on the grounds that the reproductive cycle in female mice lasts only 4 days, so there's much more variability in their physiology over the course of a study. If one takes seriously the notion that female physiology matters, then it matters that female mice are more variable so the data will be noisier. With resources being finite (raising and handling mice takes time and money, as does tracking their reproductive cycles so the data can be properly analyzed) it makes sense that many studies should be done first with male mice to get some preliminary data. But if you really want to generalize to humans, and you aren't studying a male-specific question, then at some point you need to study female mice. There's a difference between justifying greater use of male mice and justifying exclusive use of male mice.
But, of course, this is something where the funding agencies need to get more blame than the people working in the trenches with limited budgets.
So my take on this chapter is that Gross and Levitt start off strong but go too far in rejecting feminist critiques. They need to keep in mind the distinction between pure and applied research. There's no distinct feminine perspective on arterial plaque, or even a female perspective on molecular mechanisms of cervical cancer, but life experiences will matter when evaluating clinical anecdotes that might lead to the formulation of working hypotheses, and certainly the technology used in cervical cancer treatment should be designed with input from women who actually undergo such procedures.
Similar things can be said about race. There's no distinct ethnic/racial perspective on statistical analysis in a clinical study, but one's experiences might affect whether one notices certain lifestyle patterns in different racial/ethnic/economic groups, and that matters when formulating hypotheses. Ethnic diversity surely matters on an engineering team working on facial recognition software, as shown by some unfortunate examples with consumer products.
Mind you, there's a difference between research and practice. I've been examined by competent female health professionals for some male-specific problems, and if I had a skin disease I'd be happy to go to a dermatologist of any ethnic/racial background. Race and gender need not affect a conscientious professional's competence to apply existing knowledge in practice, but life experiences might affect the hypotheses that one frames in research. The testing of hypotheses is or ought to be an objective matter, but the choice of a hypothesis is highly subjective, and perspective matters.
Showing posts with label Pure and applied science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pure and applied science. Show all posts
Monday, September 4, 2017
Saturday, August 12, 2017
Systems of Survival, mid-way thoughts
I'm half-way through Systems of Survival by Jane Jacobs. She divides many activities into "Commercial" and "Guardian" activities, and the associated value systems into "Commercial" and "Guardian" moral syndromes. (The word "syndrome" simply means "things that go together", not necessarily "illness.") Commercial activities are fairly self-explanatory. "Guardian" activities are not just the military and police actions of government, but many things in government, and many things reliant on patronage or largesse. The arts and sports fall largely under "Guardian" values because traditionally they have enjoyed substantial patronage. Also, athletic competition was historically an activity of warrior castes biding time between wars. Yes, art has been made for commercial purposes, and yes, sports are an entertainment business, but the local Little League team usually relies on sponsorship from the community, and the revenue-generating college football teams subsidize the track team.
Now, Jacobs also notes that when people try to blend the syndromes bad things occur. You get corruption when government and business mingle, you get inefficiency when government planners try to provide goods that the market could handle better, and you get the mafia when a family uses bonds of loyalty and threats of violence (Guardian traits) to take control of neighborhood businesses. Interestingly, the mafia loves its ceremonies and symbolism as much as royalty does, and as much as armies love their dress uniforms and parades, while businesses tend to pay less attention to aesthetics (except in advertising and branding, or in response to specific consumer demands). Moreover, the Mafia dispenses largesse to the poor and the Church, to bolster their image and command loyalty, just as governments do.
The problems of mixing Guardian and Commercial activities help us understand why sports teams (traditionally Guardian, though now Commercial) pressure city governments (Guardians) to build stadiums. They help us understand why there's so much corruption in revenue-generating college sports. Yes, yes, I'm sure that somewhere out there a Division III College Athletics Director is dealing with a pole-vault scandal, but it pales in comparison with the corruption in Division I football and basketball. It also helps us understand why agricultural policy is always and everywhere a quagmire: Agriculture is most efficient as a commercial enterprise but because it relies on control of land (historically a government activity) it is always entwined with politics in ways that go beyond ordinary corruption or misguided regulatory zeal: The value and use of land goes to deep values of what it means to be a state.
Anyway, let's take this to the things that I care about: Science and academia.
Jacobs argues that science is largely in sync with the values of the Commercial Syndrome: Honesty is the best policy (unlike the deception and secrecy required for many security functions, whether espionage or sting operations), innovation is more valuable than tradition, collaboration with outsiders is to be welcomed (scientists collaborate internationally, just as merchants have always done business across borders), at the same time competition is to be encouraged (hence we look for replication processes to weed out error), etc. I agree with these points, but at first I disssented because basic science is so heavily subsidized.
However, I think I can nonetheless endorse her equating of science with the Commercial Syndrome for three reasons:
1) No analogy is perfect. Yes, the funding source is more than just a tiny flaw in the analogy, but we shouldn't just ignore the fact that in a great many ways the values of science fall much better under the Commercial Syndrome than the Guardian Syndrome.
2) Plenty of science happens outside of state-subsidized labs. To the extent that science happens under state subsidy the rationale is generally some mix of long-term benefits (states can afford risk-reward ratios that competitive businesses can't), the value of knowledge and education (Guardian-provided activities) or national security (Guardian activity). This doesn't change the fact that most science graduates go out and work in the Commercial realm.
3) Education fads, which drive me up the wall, have been pushed into the scientific community in large part through the efforts of the National Science Foundation and its "Broader Impact" criterion for grants. The purpose of Broader Impact is service to the wider society, not the efficient advancement of the specific project in play. It is the yoking of a community adhering (mostly) to Commercial values into Guardian endeavors. And it sucks, just as the mixing of the two Syndromes so often sucks.
Yes, yes, edufads get some scientific respectability lacquered onto them, but it's mostly BS. Education, with its focus on tradition and respect for the authority figure, is Guardian all the way. Universities have always been subsidized by largesse. Education is as Guardian as it gets. It's practically a priesthood, and it's about inculcation of social values as much as the sharing of knowledge. And that's great, within its proper scope and place. The practice of science should be Commercial and the education of people should be Guardian. Hence we make teaching and research separate criteria for performance evaluation, and hence we have separate physical space, separate funds, etc. for those activities. Indeed, graduate school is about transitioning from one to the other. To the extent that it's inefficient, well, what did you expect when you transition between realms?
And the priorities and motives driving edufads and Broader Impact are all about national competitiveness and the moral legitimacy of the social order. That is a thoroughly Guardian pair of priorities. Eminently defensible priorities, but a poor match for Commercial activity.
Academic scientists are not the only people who have to straddle worlds, and to the extent that we are attempting a hybrid activity we should expect scandal and inefficiency. But not all Syndrome-straddling activities are like the Mafia. Jacobs notes that lawyers have to straddle the Syndromes, working in private firms and generally in support of commercial interests (law is far more about property and contracts than it is about criminal trials) but interacting with the government. To the extent that they do it well it is by clearly understanding which duties apply to which parts of the job and to what types of activities. We would do well in academia to think about which duties apply to which parts of the job.
Now, Jacobs also notes that when people try to blend the syndromes bad things occur. You get corruption when government and business mingle, you get inefficiency when government planners try to provide goods that the market could handle better, and you get the mafia when a family uses bonds of loyalty and threats of violence (Guardian traits) to take control of neighborhood businesses. Interestingly, the mafia loves its ceremonies and symbolism as much as royalty does, and as much as armies love their dress uniforms and parades, while businesses tend to pay less attention to aesthetics (except in advertising and branding, or in response to specific consumer demands). Moreover, the Mafia dispenses largesse to the poor and the Church, to bolster their image and command loyalty, just as governments do.
The problems of mixing Guardian and Commercial activities help us understand why sports teams (traditionally Guardian, though now Commercial) pressure city governments (Guardians) to build stadiums. They help us understand why there's so much corruption in revenue-generating college sports. Yes, yes, I'm sure that somewhere out there a Division III College Athletics Director is dealing with a pole-vault scandal, but it pales in comparison with the corruption in Division I football and basketball. It also helps us understand why agricultural policy is always and everywhere a quagmire: Agriculture is most efficient as a commercial enterprise but because it relies on control of land (historically a government activity) it is always entwined with politics in ways that go beyond ordinary corruption or misguided regulatory zeal: The value and use of land goes to deep values of what it means to be a state.
Anyway, let's take this to the things that I care about: Science and academia.
Jacobs argues that science is largely in sync with the values of the Commercial Syndrome: Honesty is the best policy (unlike the deception and secrecy required for many security functions, whether espionage or sting operations), innovation is more valuable than tradition, collaboration with outsiders is to be welcomed (scientists collaborate internationally, just as merchants have always done business across borders), at the same time competition is to be encouraged (hence we look for replication processes to weed out error), etc. I agree with these points, but at first I disssented because basic science is so heavily subsidized.
However, I think I can nonetheless endorse her equating of science with the Commercial Syndrome for three reasons:
1) No analogy is perfect. Yes, the funding source is more than just a tiny flaw in the analogy, but we shouldn't just ignore the fact that in a great many ways the values of science fall much better under the Commercial Syndrome than the Guardian Syndrome.
2) Plenty of science happens outside of state-subsidized labs. To the extent that science happens under state subsidy the rationale is generally some mix of long-term benefits (states can afford risk-reward ratios that competitive businesses can't), the value of knowledge and education (Guardian-provided activities) or national security (Guardian activity). This doesn't change the fact that most science graduates go out and work in the Commercial realm.
3) Education fads, which drive me up the wall, have been pushed into the scientific community in large part through the efforts of the National Science Foundation and its "Broader Impact" criterion for grants. The purpose of Broader Impact is service to the wider society, not the efficient advancement of the specific project in play. It is the yoking of a community adhering (mostly) to Commercial values into Guardian endeavors. And it sucks, just as the mixing of the two Syndromes so often sucks.
Yes, yes, edufads get some scientific respectability lacquered onto them, but it's mostly BS. Education, with its focus on tradition and respect for the authority figure, is Guardian all the way. Universities have always been subsidized by largesse. Education is as Guardian as it gets. It's practically a priesthood, and it's about inculcation of social values as much as the sharing of knowledge. And that's great, within its proper scope and place. The practice of science should be Commercial and the education of people should be Guardian. Hence we make teaching and research separate criteria for performance evaluation, and hence we have separate physical space, separate funds, etc. for those activities. Indeed, graduate school is about transitioning from one to the other. To the extent that it's inefficient, well, what did you expect when you transition between realms?
And the priorities and motives driving edufads and Broader Impact are all about national competitiveness and the moral legitimacy of the social order. That is a thoroughly Guardian pair of priorities. Eminently defensible priorities, but a poor match for Commercial activity.
Academic scientists are not the only people who have to straddle worlds, and to the extent that we are attempting a hybrid activity we should expect scandal and inefficiency. But not all Syndrome-straddling activities are like the Mafia. Jacobs notes that lawyers have to straddle the Syndromes, working in private firms and generally in support of commercial interests (law is far more about property and contracts than it is about criminal trials) but interacting with the government. To the extent that they do it well it is by clearly understanding which duties apply to which parts of the job and to what types of activities. We would do well in academia to think about which duties apply to which parts of the job.
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Back to book blogging: The Philosophy of John Dewey
I'm reading a collection of essays by John Dewey. About 2/3 of the volume is on philosophy, and largely out of my depth, so I've just skimmed those parts. But now I'm at a 1931 essay titled "Science and Society." The editor of the volume indicates that this essay deviates somewhat from Dewey's usual views on the nature of knowledge--he treats science as impersonal, objective knowledge, whereas usually he stressed the contextual nature of knowledge and learning. That is actually unsurprising to me, because the second half of this essay reads as technocratic, and technocrats have a soft spot for the opportunities offered by objective knowledge. Of course, he spends the first half of the essay urging would-be technocrats to be less smug (and good for that!) but Dewey was neither the first nor last technocrat to think that if they just rethought the project they could totes make it work.
He starts by noting that the societal changes wrought by technology had not actually changed human nature:
Having just conceded that humans of 1931 are remarkably similar to those of the past, Dewey goes on to note that information technology has not transformed society:
Also, if we were to change the dated term "mechanical devices due to science" to "information technologies enabled by science" we would have something that any reader in 2017 would think is a critique of the internet. It's been noted before that the rise of cinema was accompanied by predictions of the demise of universities (classes would be delivered on film reels), as was the rise of television. It seems that every new information technology elicits the exact same cycle of euphoria and frustration. All of this has happened before and will happen again.
Beyond information technology, Dewey's basic point is not so different from Kentaro Toyama's Law of Amplification: Technology doesn't so much level or transform human society as allow us to do what we were doing before only moreso. The advantaged can derive more advantages from technology (though they can also fall if they don't keep up with competitors), the disadvantaged can be left behind in the new economy as they were in the old (though some can also discover a new path forward), people who seek to do good with technology can do more good with new technology, and people who seek to do ill with technology can do the same.
Having noted the ways that science has enabled both good and evil, merely amplifying on human nature rather than transforming it, Dewey goes on to note a point that has my most enthusiastic agreement (though not his):
Anyway, Dewey does name two areas where the application of science to social problems has been beneficial: Insurance (where we use statistics to price and mitigate risk, so that people can take the risks that inevitably accompany attempts at great things) and the germ theory of disease/hygiene. However, the first example involves something that people can choose to buy, and that can be priced without subjective value judgments, and the second ties quite closely to facts of the natural world. Neither relies too much on the steering of behavior.
He goes on to consider education as an arena for the application of science to social problems. Despite the exasperation I often display with educational fads, I actually have a lot of sympathy for the idea of applying science to educational problems. However, I believe that the passions aroused by the cultural, ethical, and political dimensions of education often leak into educational studies, and people believe that their subjective choices about which question to ask shape the answers that they get and (more importantly) the ways in which those answers are applied. For instance, it is only very recently that people looked at whether "reformed" physics classes were as good as "traditional" classes for improving student understanding of the topics and skills that get greater emphasis in "traditional" classes (since "reformed" classes often emphasis different aspects of the subject). For decades, many researchers were emphasizing "conceptual understanding" over quantitative problem-solving, for a number of reasons. I have argued before that this is in part because of the cultural baggage that gets attached to mathematical reasoning (at least in the US), but most of the people who study physics education in the US are natural scientists who have not done a lot of reading on American cultural history, so they are blind to their own assumptions. It is interesting that the lead author in the study I linked here is a psychologist, not a physicist, and is probably better-trained at unpacking cultural baggage and accompanying assumptions than most physicists would be.
(Then again, Dewey was trained as a philosopher, a field that specializes in skewering assumptions since at least the days of Socrates, yet he also fell into the technocrats' trap.)
So, as far as my own views go, I'm a big fan of social science as science, but skeptical of social engineering. It's the difference between pure and applied science. As far as Dewey, I find it fascinating that he could start an essay by noting the ways in which the technological environment experienced by humans has failed to change thought and behavior, but then express great confidence that science can be used to shape social environments in such a way as to steer human behavior. In that sense the essay falls flat. On the other hand, I give him full marks for understanding the distinction between changes in the technological environment and changes in human nature. He even managed to note ways in which the information technology of his era failed to live up to hype about transforming society. Too bad he didn't carry that humility forward in thinking about social engineering.
He starts by noting that the societal changes wrought by technology had not actually changed human nature:
In its effect upon men's external habits, dominant interests, the conditions under which they work and associate, whether in the family, the factory, the state, or internationally, science is by far the most potent social factor in the modern world. It operates, however, through its undesigned effects rather than as a transforming influence of men's thoughts and purposes. This contrast between outer and inner operation is the great contradiction in our lives. Habits of thought and desire remain in substance what they were before the rise of science, while the conditions under which they take effect have been radically altered by science.Maybe that's because technology isn't actually new to human beings. Indeed, we control the planet precisely because we are the best tool-users on the planet. So a technology-reliant existence isn't a new existence for humans, it's actually all that humans have known for at least a few tens of thousands of years. We fought off predators by using spears rather than superior muscles and speed, we survived the ice age with fire and blankets rather than fur and insulating fat, and we acquired food with tools rather than claws. And while I freely concede that the pace of technological change today is greater than in ancient times, when I read the classics I do not notice any substantial differences in human nature. The Bible, the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Greek philosophers, the scribes of ancient Egypt, they all show people who are remarkably similar to today's people. The educated classes of today feel compelled to visibly celebrate diversity, but similarity is a much bigger fact of human existence.
Having just conceded that humans of 1931 are remarkably similar to those of the past, Dewey goes on to note that information technology has not transformed society:
No sooner do we begin to understand the meaning of one such change than another comes and displaces the former. Our minds are dulled by the sudden and repeated impacts. Externally, science through its applications is manufacturing the conditions of our institutions at such a speed that we are too bewildered to know what sort of civilization is in process of making.
Because of this confusion, we cannot even draw up a ledger account of social gains and losses due to the operation of science. But at least we know that the earlier optimism which thought that the advance of natural science was to dispel superstition, ignorance, and oppression, by placing reason on the throne, was unjustified. Some superstitions have given way, but the mechanical devices due to science have made it possible to spread new kinds of error and delusion among a larger multitude.
...
The airplane binds men at a distance in closer bonds of intercourse and understanding, or it rains missiles of death upon hapless populations.Honestly, this reads like an account of the hopes and subsequent disappointments among those who envisioned the internet as transforming society and freeing people. Yes, the internet has enabled great things, and spread information to be used for good, but it has also been used for dull entertainment and malignant propaganda. Let us remember that Wikileaks was originally founded as a site for undermining totalitarian regimes via the cleansing light of truth, but in 2016 it was used to advance the political machinations of a Russian dictator and his billionaire puppet.
Also, if we were to change the dated term "mechanical devices due to science" to "information technologies enabled by science" we would have something that any reader in 2017 would think is a critique of the internet. It's been noted before that the rise of cinema was accompanied by predictions of the demise of universities (classes would be delivered on film reels), as was the rise of television. It seems that every new information technology elicits the exact same cycle of euphoria and frustration. All of this has happened before and will happen again.
Beyond information technology, Dewey's basic point is not so different from Kentaro Toyama's Law of Amplification: Technology doesn't so much level or transform human society as allow us to do what we were doing before only moreso. The advantaged can derive more advantages from technology (though they can also fall if they don't keep up with competitors), the disadvantaged can be left behind in the new economy as they were in the old (though some can also discover a new path forward), people who seek to do good with technology can do more good with new technology, and people who seek to do ill with technology can do the same.
Having noted the ways that science has enabled both good and evil, merely amplifying on human nature rather than transforming it, Dewey goes on to note a point that has my most enthusiastic agreement (though not his):
Shall we try to improve the hearts of men regard without to the new methods which science puts at our disposal? There are those, men in position in church and state, who urge this course. They trust to a transforming influence of a morals and religion which have not been affected by science to change human desire and purpose so that they will employ science and machine technology for beneficent social ends. The recent Encyclical of the Pope is a classic document in expression of a point of view which would rely wholly upon inner regeneration to protect society from the injurious uses to which science may be put. Quite apart from any ecclesiastical connection, there are many "intellectuals" who appeal to inner "spiritual" concepts, totally divorced from scientific intelligence, to effect the needed work.Indeed, my own belief is that character matters in every age. Dewey will go on to urge that we apply the methods of social science to solve the problems of human society. However, the 20th century saw the formulation of theorems (e.g. Holmstrom's Theorem, Sen's Theorem) that demonstrated the limits of what can be accomplished via institutional designs. There's no way to totally automate decision-making. And central planning failed. In my own job I am seeing more and more evidence that "best practices" only take you so far, and in the end you need to hire and retain people with character and values that drive them to do the job within a reasonable incentive structure; process only gets you so far.
Anyway, Dewey does name two areas where the application of science to social problems has been beneficial: Insurance (where we use statistics to price and mitigate risk, so that people can take the risks that inevitably accompany attempts at great things) and the germ theory of disease/hygiene. However, the first example involves something that people can choose to buy, and that can be priced without subjective value judgments, and the second ties quite closely to facts of the natural world. Neither relies too much on the steering of behavior.
He goes on to consider education as an arena for the application of science to social problems. Despite the exasperation I often display with educational fads, I actually have a lot of sympathy for the idea of applying science to educational problems. However, I believe that the passions aroused by the cultural, ethical, and political dimensions of education often leak into educational studies, and people believe that their subjective choices about which question to ask shape the answers that they get and (more importantly) the ways in which those answers are applied. For instance, it is only very recently that people looked at whether "reformed" physics classes were as good as "traditional" classes for improving student understanding of the topics and skills that get greater emphasis in "traditional" classes (since "reformed" classes often emphasis different aspects of the subject). For decades, many researchers were emphasizing "conceptual understanding" over quantitative problem-solving, for a number of reasons. I have argued before that this is in part because of the cultural baggage that gets attached to mathematical reasoning (at least in the US), but most of the people who study physics education in the US are natural scientists who have not done a lot of reading on American cultural history, so they are blind to their own assumptions. It is interesting that the lead author in the study I linked here is a psychologist, not a physicist, and is probably better-trained at unpacking cultural baggage and accompanying assumptions than most physicists would be.
(Then again, Dewey was trained as a philosopher, a field that specializes in skewering assumptions since at least the days of Socrates, yet he also fell into the technocrats' trap.)
So, as far as my own views go, I'm a big fan of social science as science, but skeptical of social engineering. It's the difference between pure and applied science. As far as Dewey, I find it fascinating that he could start an essay by noting the ways in which the technological environment experienced by humans has failed to change thought and behavior, but then express great confidence that science can be used to shape social environments in such a way as to steer human behavior. In that sense the essay falls flat. On the other hand, I give him full marks for understanding the distinction between changes in the technological environment and changes in human nature. He even managed to note ways in which the information technology of his era failed to live up to hype about transforming society. Too bad he didn't carry that humility forward in thinking about social engineering.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
de Tocqueville on questions of science, science and progress
Chapters 10 and 15 in Part 1 of Vol. 2 of Democracy in America have some points that I find particularly worthy of using as a lens for modern academia.
In Chapter 10 de Tocqueville argues that a more egalitarian society will be a more economically competitive one (on this point I completely agree with him) and thus people have less of the leisure time that is so necessary for intellectual contemplation, insight, and advancement. He thus argues that democratic societies will make most of their advances in the applied sciences rather than the basic sciences.
I partly dissent, and not because the second half of the 20th century saw such great scientific advancement in the US in spite of being a time of comparative economic equality and rising racial equality. The middle of the 20th century was something of an anomaly in US history, with great prosperity enabled by the fact that the US had better infrastructure than anyone else in the post-WWII era. That fact alone means that de Tocqueville's analysis of economic competition in egalitarian societies does not really apply to the 20th century US; we were very far from the sort of equilibrium that he was envisioning. In fact, it would seem to support his case, precisely because it was an exception to his economic assumptions and a counter-example to his assumptions about scientific progress. Instead, I partly dissent because he gives short shrift to the relationship of the pure and applied sciences. Advances in the applied sciences make advances in the pure sciences cheaper. Imagine studying pure questions in turbulence without the insights enabled by modern computing power or high-speed cameras. Imagine doing the purest work in cell biology without bioinformatics infrastructure built on our computing industry, the vast infrastructure of lab equipment suppliers who have made things cheaper and faster to compete for the budgets of labs and companies doing applied research, or the tools of modern microscopy and lasers. How many people realize that the multi-photon microscope, a beautiful tool of neuroscience, would not be possible without the advances in pulsed laser technology enabled by the telecommunications industry?
On the other hand, it is definitely true that a leisured class, whether born into leisure or elevated to it through the academic system, is an invaluable element of a basic research apparatus. In that regard, it is interesting to look at the structure of the modern academy. It has become more and more unequal, with a class divide between high-status researchers (who do have a certain amount of time for contemplation) and low-status adjunct instructors, and a shrinking middle class that try to bridge teaching and research. This certainly seems to mirror the aristocratic arrangement that de Tocqueville regarded as necessary for basic research. However, even (especially?) the biggest of the bigshots seem to spend more time working on funding proposals than contemplating science. The system has the superficial appearance of an aristocracy of philosopher-kings, but the reality is much less romantic. OK, if there's one major theme of this blog it's that the past was never all that romantic compared to the present, but at the very least the current system demonstrates that pure research isn't really a product of leisure.
A more interesting place to look is at graduate study. The best part of graduate school is that after a few hurdles it is largely unstructured. I think every PhD looks back on graduate school and thinks "Man, if I'd known then what I know now I would have made better use of that unstructured time!" The purpose of that unstructured time is to let the embryonic scientist enjoy an interlude of leisure (albeit impoverished leisure) so that they might focus on learning. It is thus interesting to note that the National Science Foundation's Graduate Research Fellowship Program is putting more and more burdens on graduate students. When I applied in 1998 they basically wanted to fund smart and motivated students, and the applications were almost trivial. Nowadays they want research plans and outreach plans ("Broader Impact"). Honestly, since leisure is wasted on the young I sort of get why they want to give bright young minds more structure. I still think it's a mistake, but I get why they do it.
Now, if we look at graduate research fellowships through the lens provided by de Tocqueville, we must note that there is no organization more openly devoted to a semblance of democratic spirit and social equality in science than the National Science Foundation. Their Broader Impact Criterion is, for good or ill, all about that. Making graduate students engage in Broader Impact projects is not only in keeping with the social goals of the NSF, but it also keeps graduate students in a state of hustle and multi-tasking. They can't just focus on their subject, they must also show people their public impact. You can like it or dislike it, and it's not the same as the commercial competition that de Tocqueville considered, but it's clearly different from a vision of graduate study as sheltered time.
I can't say that anybody consciously decided that graduate study should be a time of greater structure for the sake of democracy, but it is interesting to see this pattern noted by de Tocqueville in one context show up in another, and via the intervention of an organization whose mission and viewpoint match the democratic spirit that he described.
In Chapter 10 de Tocqueville argues that a more egalitarian society will be a more economically competitive one (on this point I completely agree with him) and thus people have less of the leisure time that is so necessary for intellectual contemplation, insight, and advancement. He thus argues that democratic societies will make most of their advances in the applied sciences rather than the basic sciences.
I partly dissent, and not because the second half of the 20th century saw such great scientific advancement in the US in spite of being a time of comparative economic equality and rising racial equality. The middle of the 20th century was something of an anomaly in US history, with great prosperity enabled by the fact that the US had better infrastructure than anyone else in the post-WWII era. That fact alone means that de Tocqueville's analysis of economic competition in egalitarian societies does not really apply to the 20th century US; we were very far from the sort of equilibrium that he was envisioning. In fact, it would seem to support his case, precisely because it was an exception to his economic assumptions and a counter-example to his assumptions about scientific progress. Instead, I partly dissent because he gives short shrift to the relationship of the pure and applied sciences. Advances in the applied sciences make advances in the pure sciences cheaper. Imagine studying pure questions in turbulence without the insights enabled by modern computing power or high-speed cameras. Imagine doing the purest work in cell biology without bioinformatics infrastructure built on our computing industry, the vast infrastructure of lab equipment suppliers who have made things cheaper and faster to compete for the budgets of labs and companies doing applied research, or the tools of modern microscopy and lasers. How many people realize that the multi-photon microscope, a beautiful tool of neuroscience, would not be possible without the advances in pulsed laser technology enabled by the telecommunications industry?
On the other hand, it is definitely true that a leisured class, whether born into leisure or elevated to it through the academic system, is an invaluable element of a basic research apparatus. In that regard, it is interesting to look at the structure of the modern academy. It has become more and more unequal, with a class divide between high-status researchers (who do have a certain amount of time for contemplation) and low-status adjunct instructors, and a shrinking middle class that try to bridge teaching and research. This certainly seems to mirror the aristocratic arrangement that de Tocqueville regarded as necessary for basic research. However, even (especially?) the biggest of the bigshots seem to spend more time working on funding proposals than contemplating science. The system has the superficial appearance of an aristocracy of philosopher-kings, but the reality is much less romantic. OK, if there's one major theme of this blog it's that the past was never all that romantic compared to the present, but at the very least the current system demonstrates that pure research isn't really a product of leisure.
A more interesting place to look is at graduate study. The best part of graduate school is that after a few hurdles it is largely unstructured. I think every PhD looks back on graduate school and thinks "Man, if I'd known then what I know now I would have made better use of that unstructured time!" The purpose of that unstructured time is to let the embryonic scientist enjoy an interlude of leisure (albeit impoverished leisure) so that they might focus on learning. It is thus interesting to note that the National Science Foundation's Graduate Research Fellowship Program is putting more and more burdens on graduate students. When I applied in 1998 they basically wanted to fund smart and motivated students, and the applications were almost trivial. Nowadays they want research plans and outreach plans ("Broader Impact"). Honestly, since leisure is wasted on the young I sort of get why they want to give bright young minds more structure. I still think it's a mistake, but I get why they do it.
Now, if we look at graduate research fellowships through the lens provided by de Tocqueville, we must note that there is no organization more openly devoted to a semblance of democratic spirit and social equality in science than the National Science Foundation. Their Broader Impact Criterion is, for good or ill, all about that. Making graduate students engage in Broader Impact projects is not only in keeping with the social goals of the NSF, but it also keeps graduate students in a state of hustle and multi-tasking. They can't just focus on their subject, they must also show people their public impact. You can like it or dislike it, and it's not the same as the commercial competition that de Tocqueville considered, but it's clearly different from a vision of graduate study as sheltered time.
I can't say that anybody consciously decided that graduate study should be a time of greater structure for the sake of democracy, but it is interesting to see this pattern noted by de Tocqueville in one context show up in another, and via the intervention of an organization whose mission and viewpoint match the democratic spirit that he described.
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