After a long hiatus, I’m finally returning to blogging. I was feeling incredibly burned out as I was finishing my undergraduate thesis and my other philosophy courses before graduating this spring, but I’m finally feeling the need to write again (which is fortunate since I’m starting a PhD program in philosophy in the fall!).
One of my last undergraduate courses was Philosophy of Science, and I was deeply troubled by much of what I studied. Almost everything I read was skeptical in nature and seemed more concerned with impeding the acquisition of knowledge than enhancing it. I am hesitant to make claims about the entire field being flawed, however, because I know that the instructor of my course sees skepticism as the most important part of philosophy (which I think is anti-philosophical because it becomes nothing more than a destruction of wisdom, and the love of wisdom is entirely absent). So, I’m interested in sketching an outline of what a rational philosophy of science might look like.
A rational philosophy of science should begin by describing the goals of science as they really are, not as a philosopher thinks they should be. Many philosophers of science don’t realize that they aren’t even talking about science as it is actually practiced; rather, they are talking about something much more philosophical than what most scientists are actually doing. For example, some philosophers of science think that the goals of science are explanation and prediction, entirely excluding the goal of knowledge without which our current use of the word ‘science’ would make no etymological sense. Other philosophers of science think that science’s goal is to reach the most rigorous kind of epistemic certainty, which isn’t quite right either given that scientists are always open to new discoveries. If philosophy of science is not about real science, then it is irrelevant. So, philosophy of science must begin by identifying what scientists are really trying to accomplish.
If you look at the way in which science changes over time or ask a practicing scientist, you’ll find out that what they are primarily interested in is knowledge (but not certainty). They are not troubled by the problem of induction because they never claim that all swans are white; they are simply saying that all the swans they have seen so far are white, but that could very well change in the future. Scientists do not see the world as something fixed, waiting to be understood once and for all. Instead, they recognize that the world is always changing, so something that is true today may not be true in the future, whether as a result of evolution or some other natural process of change. The claims of the scientist are always about what they see now, with the tacit understanding that their claims may not hold in the future and a continuous openness to their findings being contradicted. Scientists want to know what the world is like, but they are not interested in being certain about what the world will always be like (with the interesting exception of scientific laws, which will have to be discussed elsewhere). Explanation, of course, sometimes comes in as a more specific goal within the more general goal of knowledge: scientists want to know why or how something is the case as well as that it is the case.
Another important element of a rational philosophy of science is a distinction between science and technology. Technology, which is an application of the knowledge that science collects, has different goals altogether. It seems to me that technology is where prediction comes in because prediction is what allows us to apply the knowledge that science generates to some useful human end. Since technology is where science becomes most useful to humans (although the acquisition of knowledge is of course useful in and of itself to an extent), the needs of technology are part of what determines how “certain” scientists have to be. In other words, scientists only need to understand natural phenomena deeply enough to manipulate them to serve human ends, whether curing an infection or launching a rocket into outer space. As soon as we are unable to achieve a particular end (curing cancer, for example), the standard for scientific knowledge is raised in that area of science, and researchers must seek a deeper understanding.
Only by judging and understanding science in relation to science’s goals can we develop a philosophy of science that builds wisdom rather than destroying it. Imposing philosophic notions of certainty onto a practice that is distinct from philosophy will not do, nor will assuming a global skepticism. I think that by simply gaining clarity about science’s goals, many of philosophy of science’s classic dilemmas could be resolved and philosophers could move on to more productive, knowledge-building endeavors.



