Scientism Reloaded

The "Reclaim Scientism" movement is gaining momentum. In his recent book "The Atheist's Guide to Reality: Enjoying Life without Illusions", the American philosopher Alexander Rosenberg suggests that instead of viewing the word "scientism" as an epithet, atheists should expropriate it and use it as a positive term which describes their worldview. Rosenberg also provides a descriptive explanation of how the term "scientism" is currently used:

Scientism — noun; scientistic — adjective.
Scientism has two related meanings, both of them pejorative. According to one of these meanings, scientism names the improper or mistaken application of scientific methods or findings outside their appropriate domain, especially to questions treated by the humanities. The second meaning is more common: Scientism is the exaggerated confidence in the methods of science as the most (or the only) reliable tools of inquiry, and an equally unfounded belief that at least the most well established of its findings are the only objective truths there are.

Rosenberg's explanation of "scientism" is helpful because it highlights the difference between science and scientism. Science refers to applying scientific methods as tools of inquiry to collect and interpret data, whereas "scientism" refers to cultural and ideological views promoting the primacy or superiority of scientific methods over all other tools of inquiry.  Some scientists embrace scientistic views, in part because scientism provides a much-needed counterbalance to aggressive anti-science attitudes that are prevalent on both ends of the political spectrum and among some religious institutions. However, other scientists are concerned about propping up scientism as a bulwark against ideological science-bashing because it smacks of throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Science is characterized by healthy skepticism, the dismantling of dogmatic views and a continuous process of introspection and self-criticism. Infusing science with ideological stances concerning the primacy of the scientific method could undermine the power of science which is rooted in its willingness to oppose ideological posturing.

As a scientist who investigates signaling mechanisms and the metabolic activity of stem cells, I am concerned about the rise of some movements that fall under the "scientism" umbrella, because they have the possibility to impede scientific discovery. Scientific progress relies on recognizing the limitations and flaws in existing scientific concepts and refuting scientific views that cannot be adequately explained by newer scientific observations. An exaggerated confidence in the validity of scientific findings could stifle such refutations. For example, some of the most widely cited scientific papers in the field of stem cell biology cannot be replicated, but they have had an enormous detrimental impact on the science and medicine, in part because of an exaggerated faith in the validity of some initial experiments.


I first began studying the use of stem and progenitor cells to enhance cardiovascular repair and regeneration over a decade ago. At that time, many of my colleagues and I were excited about a recent paper published by a group of scientists based at New York Medical College in the high-profile scientific journal Nature in 2001. The paper suggested that injected adult bone marrow stem cells could be successfully converted into functional heart cells and recover heart function after a heart attack by generating new heart tissue. The usage of adult regenerative cells was a very attractive option because it would allow patients to be treated with their own cells and could circumvent the ethical and political controversies associated with embryonic stem cells. This animal study gained even more traction when supportive experimental and human studies were published by other scientists. Then a German research group under the direction of the cardiologist Bodo Strauer published a paper in 2002 which showed that not only could adult human bone marrow cells be safely injected into heart attack patients but that these adult cells  even appeared to improve  heart function.

The stir caused by these discoveries was not just confined to scientists. The findings were widely reported in the media and I recall numerous discussions with physicians who claimed that cardiovascular disease would soon be a problem of the past, because patients would receive routine bone marrow injections after heart attacks. One colleague even advised me to reconsider my career choices since the usage of bone marrow cells could address most if not all issues in cardiovascular regeneration.

This excitement was somewhat dampened when a refutation of the 2001 Nature paper was published in 2004, also in the journal Nature. A collaborative effort of two US-based stem cell research groups was not able to replicate the findings of the 2001 paper. The scientists were unable to find any significant conversion of adult bone marrow cells into functional heart cells. However, many physicians, scientists and patients had already adopted an unshakable belief in the validity of the bone marrow cell treatments after heart attacks. Hundreds of heart attack patients were being enrolled in clinical trials involving the injection of bone marrow cells. Clinics in Thailand or Mexico began offering bone marrow injections to heart patients from all around the world– for a hefty price, both in terms of monetary payments and in terms of safety because they exposed patients to the risks of invasive injections of bone marrow cells into their hearts.

Despite the fact that the initial clinical studies with small numbers of enrolled patients had shown a beneficial effect of bone marrow cell injections, subsequent trials could not confirm these early successes. It became apparent that even if bone marrow cell injections did exert a therapeutic benefit in heart attack patients, these benefits were rather modest. Scientists increasingly realized that the observed benefits may have been causally unrelated to the small fraction of stem cells contained within the bone marrow. Instead of bone marrow stem cells becoming functional heart cells, some bone marrow cells may have merely released protective proteins which could explain the slight improvement in heart function, without necessarily generating new heart tissue. One of the largest bone marrow cell treatment trials for heart attack patients to date was just recently published in 2013 and showed no evidence of improved heart function following the cell injections.  

In hindsight, many of us have wondered why we were not more skeptical of the initial findings. When compared to embryonic stem cells, adult bone marrow stem cells have a very limited ability to differentiate into cell types other than those typically found in the bone marrow. Furthermore, the clinical studies which reported successful treatment of heart attack patients used unpurified bone marrow cells from the patients. The stem cell content of such unpurified preparations is roughly 1% or less, which means that 99% of the injected bone marrow cells were NOT stem cells. For the tiny fraction of bona fide stem cells in the bone marrow to convert into sufficient numbers of beating heart cells and even create new functional heart tissue would have been akin to a miracle.

Critical thinking and healthy skepticism, the scientific peer review processor and even common sense should have alerted us to the problems associated with these claims, but they all failed. Perhaps scientists, physicians and patients were so excited by the prospect of creating new heart tissue that they suspended much-needed skepticism. Exaggerated confidence in the validity of the scientific data published in highly regarded scientific journals may have played an important role. Unintentional cognitive biases of scientists who conducted the experiments and a disregard for alternative explanations could have also contributed to the propagation of ideas that would withstand subsequent testing. Scientific misconduct may also play a role. For example, the cardiologist who conducted the first clinical studies with bone marrow cell infusions in heart attack patients was investigated by his university for scientific misconduct because a review of his work had identified massive errors.

This is just one example to illustrate problems associated with an exaggerated confidence in the validity of scientific findings, a kind of confidence which scientism engenders. Such examples are by no means restricted to stem cell biology. A recent analysis of scientific reproducibility in cancer research claimed that only 11% of published cancer biology papers could be independently validated, and other areas of scientific research may be similarly afflicted by the problem of irreproducibility of published, peer-reviewed scientific papers.
Increasing numbers of scientists are recognizing that current approaches to interpreting and publishing scientific data are severely flawed. Exaggerated confidence in the validity of scientific findings is frequently misplaced and claims that scientific results represent objective truths need to be re-evaluated particularly when a high percentage of experimental results cannot be replicated by fellow scientists. In this particular context, the views of scientists who are trying to learn lessons from the failures of the scientific peer review process are not so different from those of "scientism" critics. However, many scientists, myself included, remain reluctant to use the expression "scientism".  

Rosenberg illustrates the problems associated with the word "scientism". Since "scientism" is often used as an epithet, invoking "scientism" may impede constructive discussions about the appropriateness of applying scientific methods. While a question such as "Can issues of morality be answered by scientific experiments?" may be important, introducing the term "scientism" with all its baggage distracts from addressing the question in a rational manner.
The other major issue associated with the term "scientism" is its vagueness. It is difficult to discuss "scientism" if it encompasses a broad range of distinct concepts such as the notion that science has to remain within certain boundaries as well as a criticism of overweening confidence in the validity of scientific findings. I can easily identify with asking for a realistic reappraisal of whether or not scientific results obtained by one laboratory constitute an objective, scientific truth but I am opposed to creating boundary lines that forbid certain forms of scientific inquiry because it might infringe on the domains of the humanities. Instead of the diffuse expression "scientism", I prefer the term "science mystique" to criticize the exaggerated, near-mythical confidence in the infallibility of scientific results. 

Rosenberg's view that the expression "scientism" and also the culture of "scientism" should be embraced received a big boost when the scientist Steven Pinker published his polemic essay "Science Is Not Your Enemy: An impassioned plea to neglected novelists, embattled professors, and tenure-less historians". Like Rosenberg, Pinker wants to rehabilitate the expression "scientism" and use it to indicate a positive, science-affirming worldview. Unfortunately, instead of engaging in a constructive dialogue about the culture of "scientism", Pinker reveals his condescending attitude towards the humanities throughout the essay. His notion of respect for the humanities consists of pointing out how much better off classical philosophers might have been if they had been aware of modern neuroscience. 

But Pinker does not comment on the converse proposition: Would scientists be better off if they knew more about philosophy? Pinker goes on to portray scientists as dynamic forward thinkers, while humanities scholars are supposedly weighed down by their intellectual inertia:

"Several university presidents and provosts have lamented to me that when a scientist comes into their office, it's to announce some exciting new research opportunity and demand the resources to pursue it. When a humanities scholar drops by, it's to plead for respect for the way things have always been done."

Pinker glosses over the reproducibility issues in science and reaffirms his faith in the current system of scientific peer review without commenting on the limitations of scientific peer review:

"Scientism, in this good sense, is not the belief that members of the occupational guild called "science" are particularly wise or noble. On the contrary, the defining practices of science, including open debate, peer review, and double-blind methods, are explicitly designed to circumvent the errors and sins to which scientists, being human, are vulnerable."

The philosopher and scientist Massimo Pigliucci wrote an excellent response to Steven Pinker, discussing the flaws inherent in Pinker's polemic and explaining why promoting a culture of scientism or a "science mystique" is not in the interest of science. I also agree with the physicist Sean Carroll who reminds us that we should get rid of the term "scientism"; not because he wants to get rid of a critical evaluation of science, but because he thinks this poorly defined term is not very helpful.

Whether or not we use the word "scientism", it is apparent that the debates between the critics and defenders of the culture of "scientism" are here to stay. It is unlikely that rehabilitating the unhelpful word "scientism" or polemical stances towards the humanities will contribute to this debate in a meaningful manner. The challenge for scientists and non-scientists is to embrace and address the legitimate criticisms of science without promoting the agenda of irrational anti-science bashing. 



Note: An earlier version of this article was first published on the 3Quarksdaily blog

Philosophical Moods

Nietzschean, Heideggerian, fascist, anarchist, libertarian, brilliant genius, blabbering nutjob - these and many other labels have probably been used to describe Peter Sloterdijk, who is one of Germany's most widely known contemporary philosophers. He has achieved a rock-star status in the echelons of contemporary German thinkers, perhaps because none is more apt than Sloterdijk at fulfilling the true purpose of a public intellectual: inculcating his audience with an insatiable desire to think. His fans adore him; his critics are maddened by him. Few, if any, experience indifference when they encounter the provocateur Sloterdijk.

Sloterdijk achieved fame in Germany after publishing his masterpiece "Kritik der zynischen Vernunft" (English translation: "Critique of Cynical Reason") in 1983, but his hosting of the regular late-night talk show "Das Philosophische Quartett" on the major German TV network ZDF for ten years turned him into a cultural icon and a household name. I realize that it might seem strange to non-Germans that philosophers instead of comedians can host TV talk shows, however Sloterdijk would probably be the first to agree that there isn't much of a difference between a true comedian and a true philosopher. Not only do we Germans have TV philosophers, we even enjoy the TV gossip and cockfights that they indulge in. When the ZDF network decided to get rid of Sloterdijk and replace him with the younger, more handsome and less thoughtful philosopher Richard David Precht, they start engaging in reciprocal mockery and name-calling.

Unfortunately, Sloterdijk is not quite so well-known in the English-speaking world and this may in part be due to the fact that much of his oeuvre has only recently been translated into the English language. It is no easy feat to translate his writings, in part because his playful mastery of German words is one of his signatures. Sloterdijk is a wonderful story-teller who weaves in beautiful images and puns into his narration, many of which are unique to the German language. His story-telling also makes it difficult to understand some of his texts in the original German. One may be enthralled by his stories, but after reading a whole chapter or book, it is quite difficult to condense it into a handy "message" or "point". Sloterdijk is a professional digressor, going off on tangents that are entertaining and exciting, but at times quite frustrating. He shares his brilliant insights on a broad range of topics ranging from metaphysics to politics with his readers, but he also offers practical advice on how we can change our lives as well as bizarre and pompous statements.


One of his more recent books is called "Philosophische Temperamente: Von Platon bis Foucault", which can be translated as "Philosophical Temperaments: From Plato to Foucault" and is now also available in an English translation. In the 1990s, Sloterdijk assembled a collection of texts and excerpts by 19 philosophers (Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Bruno, Descartes, Pascal, Leibniz, Hegel, Schelling, Fichte, Schopenhauer, Kierkegaard, Marx, Nietzsche, Husserl, Wittgenstein, Sartre, Foucault) which he felt ought to be studied. Sloterdijk was convinced that the best way to truly approach a philosopher was to read the primary texts instead of relying on secondary sources. He also wrote short prefaces for the 19 volumes, each containing 400-500 pages of texts by one philosopher. The prefaces were intended to serve as brief introductions, enticing the readers to delve into the main volume. These prefaces were not academic-style summaries of the lives or works of the philosophers, they were verbal portraits painted by Sloterdijk. They were subjective impressions of their philosophical moods and temperaments, which explains why the collection of these 19 prefaces was released under the title "Philosophical Temperaments".

As with so many portraits, they reveal more about the painter than the subject of the portrait. "Philosophische Temperamente" allows us to take a peek into Sloterdijk's own temperaments. These portraits are stand-alone essays, but what is most striking is that despite their brevity, they are packed with provocative insights. The whole book has only 144 pages and only few of them are longer than seven pages. Even in these tiny portraits, Sloterdijk manages to digress, using a few core ideas of the philosopher as a starting point and then drawing parallels to our lives today. But it is precisely these kinds of digressions and parallels that remind us why these dusty classic of philosophy continue to be relevant for our lives.

This past decade has seen the rise of the TED-talk mentality. The idea of providing a forum for innovative thinkers to share their ideas with rich conference attendees, as well as the not-so-rich general public via a free internet broadcast has become a hot fad. Now that we are inundated with thousands of TED-talks and TED-copycats, many of us have developed TED-fatigue. The expression "TEDtalking" may soon become a new form of insult, referring to the watering down and oversimplifying of complex ideas, the sharing of touching and life-changing personal stories or exuding excessive positivity which fills the audience with vacuous joy and earns a heartfelt applause. I always thought of Sloterdijk as the prototypical anti-TEDtalker, because his writings do not attempt to leave the reader in a happy and cozy place. Sloterdijk likes to challenge us, evoking intellectual unease and restlessness in our minds and invites us to disagree. His essays and books with all their digressions tend to be so long, that I thought it was inconceivable for him to condense them into a 15 minute TED time slot. Sloterdijk does not offer any convenient prefab take-home messages or TED-style smug happiness.

After reading "Philosophische Temperamente", I have begun to reconsider my views on Sloterdijk and TED-talks. In these 19 mini-essays, Sloterdijk gives TED-talks without TEDtalking. His TED stands for "Tease Entertain Disagree" and instead of the traditional TED motto of "Ideas worth spreading", Sloterdijk presents us with "Ideas worth critiquing". Perhaps the organizers and presenters at TED-conferences could learn something from Sloterdijk's style.

Each mini-essay is a teaser which could potentially ignite discussions, not only about a specific philosopher, but also about the role of philosophy itself. The portrait of Augustine, arguably the least flattering of all portraits in the book, suggests that he infused Western thought with a sense of debasing anti-humanist "masochism", the idea that humankind is worthless, were it not for the grace of God. This idea thus directly connects Augustine to contemporary debates revolving around the role of religion, which do not only apply to Augustine or Christianity, but to all religions. Similarly, all other portraits also offer similarly provocative statements.

Here are translations of a few short excerpts from the book:

Plato
The chapter on Plato is the longest in Sloterdijk's book, but it discusses far more than just Plato, ranging from the purpose of philosophy to the ills of contemporary fundamentalism.

„Der Fundamentalismus, der heute weltweit aus dem Mißtrauen gegen die Modernität entspringt, kann immer nur Hilfskonstruktion für Hilflose liefern; er erzeugt nur Scheinsicherheiten ohne Weiterwissen; auf lange Sicht ruiniert er die befallenen Gesellschaften durch die Drogen der falschen Gewißheit."
"The world-wide phenomenon of fundamentalism which in today's world is rooted in a distrust of modernity can only serve as futile aides for the helpless; it generates pseudo-certainties without the desire for further knowledge; in the long run it ruins the afflicted societies with the addictive drug of false certainty."

Schopenhauer
The portrait of Schopenhauer introduces him as the pioneering thinker who quit the "Church of Reason" ("Vernunftkirche").

„Von Schopenhauer könnte der Satz stammen: Nur die Verzweiflung kann uns noch retten; er hatte freilich nicht von Verzweiflung, sondern von Verzicht gesprochen. Verzicht ist für die Modernen das schwierigste Wort der Welt."
„Schopenhauer might have uttered the phrase: Only desperation can save us. Yet he did not speak of despair, but of renunciation. Renunciation is the most difficult word for the modern world."

Marx
This passage from the chapter on Marx includes a fascinating statement about contemporary media:

„Telekommunikation läßt sich von Televampyrismus immer schwerer unterscheiden. Fernseher und Fernsauger schöpfen aus einer verflüssigten Welt, die kaum noch weiß, was widerstandsfähiges oder eigenes Leben wäre."
"It is becoming difficult to distinguish between telecommunication and televampirism. Television and Telesuction draw from a liquefied world that hardly knows the concept of an independent or resistant life."

It is difficult to translate Sloterdijk's neologism "Fernsauger", which literally means "tele-sucker" or "tele-suction device". In the original German, it is a beautiful play on the words Fernseher (television or tele-viewer) and the German word for a vacuum cleaner ("Staubsauger" , literally a "dust-sucker").

Sartre

            „Was Sartre angeht, so blieb er zeitlebens seiner Weise, die bodenlose Freiheit zu leben, treu. Für ihn war das Nichts der Subjektivität kein herabziehender Abgrund, sondern eine heraufsprudelnde Quelle, ein Überschuß an Verneinungskraft gegen alles Umschließende."
            "As for Sartre, he remained true to leading a life of boundless freedom. For him, the void of subjectivity was not an abyss that pulls us down. Instead, it was a spring, gushing upwards and resisting all forms of enclosure."

This particular Sloterdijk book is one of the most accessible introductions to Sloterdijk's thinking and offers the reader many reasons for why we should continue to study classic Western philosophers.

Note: An earlier version of this article was first published on 3quarksdaily.com.

Image Credits: German philosopher Peter Sloterdijk (by Rainer Lück via Wikimedia Commons), "Mood Rings" (by G.H. Holt Photography via Flickr)

The Science Mystique

Many of my German high school teachers were intellectual remnants of the “68er” movement. They had either been part of the 1968 anti-authoritarian and left-wing student protests in Germany or they had been deeply influenced by them. The movement gradually fizzled out and the students took on seemingly bourgeois jobs in the 1970s as civil servants, bank accountants or high school teachers, but their muted revolutionary spirit remained on the whole intact. Some high school teachers used the flexibility of the German high school curriculum to infuse us with the revolutionary ideals of the 68ers. For example, instead of delving into Charles Dickens in our English classes, we read excerpts of the book “The Feminine Mystique” written by the American feminist Betty Friedan.

Our high school level discussion of the book barely scratched the surface of the complex issues related to women’s rights and their portrayal by the media, but it introduced me to the concept of a “mystique”. The book pointed out that seemingly positive labels such as “nurturing” were being used to propagate an image of the ideal woman, who could fulfill her life’s goals by being a subservient and loving housewife or mother. She might have superior managerial skills, but they were best suited to run a household and not a company, and she would need to be protected from the aggressive male-dominated business world. Many women bought into this mystique, precisely because it had elements of praise built into it, without realizing how limiting it was to be placed on a pedestal. Even though the feminine mystique has largely been eroded in Europe and North America, I continue to encounter women who cling on to this mystique, particularly among Muslim women in North America who are prone to emphasize how they feel that gender segregation and restrictive dress codes for women are a form of “elevation” and honor. They claim these social and personal barriers make them feel unique and precious.

Friedan’s book also made me realize that we were surrounded by so many other similarly captivating mystiques. The oriental mystique was dismantled by Edward Said in his book “Orientalism”, and I have to admit that I myself was transiently trapped in this mystique. Being one of the few visibly “oriental” individuals among my peers in Germany, I liked the idea of being viewed as exotic, intuitive and emotional. After I started medical school, I learned about the “doctor mystique”, which was already on its deathbed. Doctors had previously been seen as infallible saviors who devoted all their time to heroically saving lives and whose actions did not need to be questioned. There is a German expression for doctors which is nowadays predominantly used in an ironic sense: “Halbgötter in Weiß” – Demigods in White. Through persistent education, books, magazine and newspaper articles, TV shows and movies, many of these mystiques have been gradually demolished.

It has become common knowledge that women can be successful as ambitious CEOs or as brilliant engineers. We now know that “Orientals” do not just indulge their intuitive mysticism but can become analytical mathematicians. People readily accept the fact that doctors are human, they make mistakes and their medical decisions can be influenced by pharmaceutical marketing or by spurious squabbles with colleagues. One of my favorite TV shows was the American medical comedy Scrubs, which gave a surprisingly accurate portrayal of what it meant to work in a hospital. It was obviously fictional and contained many exaggerations to increase its comedic impact, but I could relate to many of the core themes presented in the show. The daily frustrations of being a physician-in-training or a senior attending physician, the fact that physicians make mistakes, the petty fights among physicians that can negatively impact their patients, the immense stress of having to deal with patients who cannot be helped, financial incentives for performing unnecessary medical procedures, physicians and nurses with substance abuse problems – these were all challenges that either I or my friends and colleagues had experienced.

One lone TV show such as Scrubs cannot be credited for taking down the “doctor mystique”, but it did provide a vehicle for us physicians to talk about the “dark side of medicine”. Speaking about flawed clinical decision-making and how personal emotions can affect our interactions with patients is not easy for physicians, because this form of introspection can lead to paralyzing guilt. All physicians know they make mistakes, and even though we ourselves do not buy into the “doctor mystique”, we may still feel the burden of having live up to it. I remember how I used to discuss some of the Scrubs episodes with other physicians and these light-hearted conversations about funny scenes in the TV show sometimes led to deeper discussions about our own personal experiences and the challenges we faced in our profession.

Being placed on a pedestal is a form of confinement. Dismantling mystiques not only liberates the individuals who are being mystified, but it can also benefit society as a whole. In the case of the doctor mystique, patients are now more likely to question the decisions of physicians, thus forcing doctors to explain why they are prescribing certain medications or expensive procedures. The internet enables patients to obtain information about their illnesses and treatment options. Instead of blindly following doctors’ orders, they want to engage their doctor in a discussion and become an integral part of the decision-making process.

The recognition that gifts, free dinners and honoraria paid by pharmaceutical companies strongly influence what medications doctors prescribe has led to the establishment of important new rules at universities and academic journals to curb this influence. Many medical schools now strongly restrict interactions between pharmaceutical company representatives and physicians-in-training. Academic journals and presentations at universities or medical conferences require a complete disclosure of all potential financial relationships that could impact the objectivity of the presented data. Some physicians may find these regulations cumbersome and long for the “mystique” days when their intentions were not under such scrutiny, but many of us think that these changes are making us better physicians and improving medical care.

As I watch many of these mystiques crumble, one mystique continues to persist: The Science Mystique. As with other mystiques, it consists of a collage of falsely idealized and idolized notions of what science constitutes. This mystique has many different manifestations, such as the firm belief that reported scientific findings are absolutely true beyond any doubt, scientific results obtained today are likely to remain true for all eternity and scientific research will be able to definitively solve all the major problems facing humankind. This science mystique is often paired with an over-simplified and reductionist view of science. Some popular science books, press releases or newspaper articles refer to scientists having discovered the gene or the molecule that is responsible for highly complex phenomena, such as cancer or philosophical constructs such as morality. When discussing a recent paper on wound healing, I came across an intriguing comment in a public comment thread: “When I read an article related to science it puts me in the mindset of perfection and credibility”. This is just one anecdotal comment, but I think that it captures the Science Mystique of people who place science on a pedestal of perfection.

As flattering as it may be, few scientists see science as encapsulating perfection. Even though I am a physician, most of my time is devoted to working as a cell biologist. My laboratory currently studies the biology of stem cells and the role of mitochondrial metabolism in stem cells. In the rather antiquated division of science into “hard” and “soft” sciences, where physics is considered a “hard” science and psychology or sociology are considered “soft” sciences, my field of work would be considered a middle-of-the-road, “firm” science. As cell biologists, we are able to conduct well-defined experiments, falsify hypotheses and directly test cause-effect relationships. Nevertheless, my experience with scientific results is that they are far from perfect and most good scientific work usually raises more questions than it provides answers. We scientists are motivated by our passion for exploration, and we know that even when we are able to successfully obtain definitive results, these findings usually point out even greater deficiencies and uncertainties in our knowledge. Stuart Firestein’s wonderful book “Ignorance: How It Drives Science” is a sincere and eloquent testimony to the key role of ignorance in scientific work. A thoughtful “I do not know the answer to this” uttered by a scientist is typically seen as a sign of scientific maturity, because it shows humility of the scientist and indicates a potential new direction for scientific research. On the other hand, when a scientist proudly proclaims to have found the most important gene or having defined the most important pathway for a certain biological process, it frequently indicates a lack of understanding of the complexity of the matter at hand.

One key problem of science is the issue of reproducibility. Psychology is currently undergoing a soul-searching process because many questions have been raised about why published scientific findings have such poor reproducibility when other psychologists perform the same experiments. One might attribute this to the “soft” nature of psychology, because it deals with variables such as emotions that are difficult to quantify and with heterogeneous humans as their test subjects. However, even pre-clinical cancer research on cancer cells and animal models of tumors is plagued by problems of reproducibility. In my work as a stem cell biologist, I have also encountered reproducibility issues when my laboratory has attempted to replicate published scientific findings. My experience in recent years has been that roughly only half of the published findings in stem cell biology can be reproduced when we attempt to conduct experiments according to the scientific methods and protocols of the published paper.

This anecdotal estimate of 50% reproducibility is not a comprehensive analysis. Researchers only attempt to replicate findings which are highly relevant to their work and which are published in a select group of scientific journals. If we tried to replicate every single paper in the field of stem cell biology, the success rate might be even lower. On the other hand, we devote a limited amount of time and resources to replicating results, because there is no funding available for replication experiments. It is possible that if we devoted enough time and resources to replicate a published study, tinkering with the different methods, trying out different batches of stem cells and reagents, we might have a higher likelihood of being able to replicate the results. Since negative studies are difficult to publish, these failed attempts at replication are buried and the published papers that cannot be replicated are rarely retracted. When scientists meet at conferences, they often informally share their respective experiences regarding their attempts to replicate research findings. These casual exchanges can be very helpful, because they help us ensure that we do not waste resources to build new scientific work on the shaky foundations of scientific papers that cannot be replicated.

In addition to knowing that a significant proportion of published scientific findings cannot be replicated, scientists are also aware of the fact that scientific knowledge is dynamic. Technologies used to acquire scientific data are continuously changing and the new scientific data amassed during any single year by far outpaces the capacity of scientists to fully understand and analyze it. Most scientists are currently struggling to keep up with the new scientific knowledge in their own field, let alone put it in context with the existing literature. As I have previously pointed out, more than 30-40 scientific papers are published on average on any given day in the field of stem cell biology. This overwhelming wealth of scientific information inevitably leads to a short half-life of scientific knowledge, as Samuel Arbesman has expressed in his book “The Half-Life of Facts”. What is considered a scientific fact today may be obsolete within five years. The books by Firestein and Arbesman are shining examples among the plethora of recent popular science books, because they explain why scientific knowledge is so ephemeral and yet so important. Hopefully, these books will help deconstruct the Science Mystique.

One aspect of science that receives comparatively little attention in popular science discussions is the human factor. Scientific experiments are conducted by scientists who have human failings, and thus scientific fallibility is entwined with human fallibility. Some degree of limited scientific replicability is intrinsic to the subject matter itself. Researchers use many different chemicals and biological reagents for their experiments, and even if they are obtained from the same manufacturer, there is no guarantee that their potency will be the same over time. At other times, researchers may make unintentional mistakes in interpreting their data or may unknowingly use contaminated samples. One can hardly blame scientists for heterogeneity of their tested samples or for making honest errors. However, there are far more egregious errors made by scientists that can have a major impact on how science is conducted. There are cases of outright fraud, where researchers just manufacture non-existent data, but these tend to be rare. When colleagues and scientific journals or organizations become aware of these cases of fraud, published papers are retracted and scientists face punitive measures. Such overt fraud tends to be unusual, and of the hundred or more scientific colleagues who I have personally worked with, I do not know of any one that has committed such fraud. However, what occurs far more frequently than overt fraud is the gentle fudging of scientific data, consciously or subconsciously, so that desired scientific results are obtained. Experimental outliers might be excluded using questionable justifications, especially if excluding them helps direct the data in the desired direction. Like most humans, scientists also have biases and would like to interpret their data in a manner that fits with their existing concepts and ideas.

Human fallibility not only affects how scientists interpret and present their data, but can also have a far-reaching impact on which scientific projects receive research funding or the publication of scientific results. When manuscripts are submitted to scientific journals or when grant proposal are submitted to funding agencies, they usually undergo a review by a panel of scientists who work in the same field and can ultimately decide whether or not a paper should be published or a grant funded. One would hope that these decisions are primarily based on the scientific merit of the manuscripts or the grant proposals, but anyone who has been involved in these forms of peer review knows that, unfortunately, personal connections or personal grudges can often be decisive factors.


Lack of scientific replicability, knowing about the uncertainties that come with new scientific knowledge, fraud and fudging, biases during peer review – these are all just some of the reasons why scientists rarely believe in the mystique of science. When I discuss this with acquaintances who are non-scientists, they sometimes ask me how I can love science if I have encountered these “ugly” aspects of science. My response is that I love science despite this “ugliness”, and perhaps even because of its “ugliness”. The fact that scientific knowledge is dynamic and ephemeral, the fact that we do not need to feel embarrassed about our ignorance and uncertainties, the fact that science is conducted by humans and is infused with human failings, these are all reasons to love science. When I think of science, I am reminded of the painting “Basket of Fruit” by Caravaggio, which is a still-life of a fruit bowl, but unlike older still-life paintings of fruit, it showed discolored and decaying leaves and fruit. The beauty and ingenuity of Caravaggio’s painting lies in its ability to show fruit how it really is, not the idealized fruit baskets that other painters would so often depict.

The challenge that we scientists face is to share our love for science despite its imperfections with those around us who do not actively work in the field of science. I remember speaking to a colleague of mine in the context of a wonderful spoof of a Lady Gaga song called “Bad Project”. We both agreed that the spoof was spot on, showing frustrations of a PhD student not being able to get experiments to work, having to base experiments on poorly documented lab note books and the tedious nature of scientific work. My colleague was concerned that if such spoofs ridiculing laboratory work became too common, it would embolden the American anti-science movement that is already very strong. Anyone who closely follows American science politics knows that creationists and global-warming deniers are constantly looking for opportunities to find flaws in scientific studies and that they use occasional errors as opportunities to suggest that well-established and replicated scientific results or theories should be discarded.

My response to these concerns is that it is our job as scientists to convince fellow citizens how important science is, despite its limitations and flaws. The uncertainties and limitations of scientific knowledge are not weaknesses, but strengths of the scientific approach, highlighting why it is so well-suited to help us understand our world. Enabling a false mystique of science being definitive and perfect is not going to benefit science or society in the long run. Instead, recognizing our failings and limitations in science and openly discussing them with our fellow citizens is going to help us improve how we conduct science. Anyone who carefully looks at Caravaggio’s “imperfect” painting can see its beauty and still fall in love with it. I hope that we scientists will be able to share the Caravaggio view of science with the general public.

Acknowledgement: An earlier version of this article was first published on 3quarksdaily.com.

Image Credits: Painting Basket of Fruit by Caravaggio via Wikimedia Commons

Professor Hands Out "Erase Undesirable Data Points" Coupons To PhD Students

TIJUANA- Obtaining a PhD in the life sciences now routinely takes six or seven years, whereas 30 or 40 years ago, students could graduate from a PhD program in just 3 or 4 years. The University of California, Tijuana (UCT) hired a consultancy firm to help them identify the reasons for the prolonged PhD duration. The consultants found the culprit: Data outliers.

Richard ("Dick") Tator is a Professor for Complementary and Alternative Science (CAS) at UCT and explains the findings.

“If a PhD student conducts an experiment with eight mice and five respond one way, but three mice the opposite way, most students then have to conduct additional experiments with many more mice to obtain a definitive, statistically significant result. This can prolong the duration of a PhD by months or even years.”

Professor Tator has now come up with a very innovative program to address this problem. He hands out “coupons” to his students which allow them to simply erase any data points which are interfering with the statistical significance of the results or which do not conform with the anticipated findings.

Lay Zee is a student in Professor Tator’s laboratory and is a big fan of the new system. “Dick is just a wonderful mentor. He basically allows every graduate student to earn up to three coupons a year, and each coupon is good for up to two years. So you do not have to use them all up at once and you can keep them in stock for a future data point that does not support your hypothesis.”

Lay says that Professor Tator gives out one “erase undesirable data coupon” for performing three chores, such as walking his dog, picking up Professor Tator’s laundry and baby-sitting his children. Lay feels that implementing “erase undesirable data coupons” is a win-win situation for everyone.

“I get to graduate sooner and we get to publish our results faster. Some of my friends in other programs are going to be stuck in their PhD program for another two or three years, performing mundane experiments, just to ensure that they will have statistically valid results, whereas I am already receiving job offers.”

Tator’s colleagues are also impressed with his innovative approach. Knott Eggsist is a professor of philosophy and UCT and admits that he is a bit envious.

“Professors in the humanities also have dogs that need to be walked and our students are also stuck in a PhD program for a very long time, sometimes as long as 8 or 9 years. We would love to have something similar to Dick’s coupons, but our problem is that we do not really have any actual data in the humanities.”

“How do you erase a data point that never even existed?”, Eggsist asks. After a brief pause, his eyes light up and he then nods vigorously, “Now that would be a great dissertation topic!”

Eggsist then talks about an equally innovative program that his department might implement.

“We are considering an entirely different approach in the philosophy department. We have determined that PhD in philosophy is prolonged unnecessarily because one has to deal with all the complex and long-winded thoughts of German philosophers. We will therefore start using an ‘Erase a German philosopher coupon’. With each coupon, our students will be able to write their dissertation and pretend that for example Hegel, Kant or Nietzsche or any other German philosopher of their choosing never existed and simply ignore all their writings.”

Phflogging

The word "blog" is a portmanteau derived from "web" and "log", because the earliest "blogs" were simply online diaries or online logs. I thought that it might be fun to create fictional blogs for famous literary or philosophical figures that are living in the present and sharing their personal thoughts with the world in the form of blog posts. I therefore proudly coined the portmanteau "flog", derived from "fictional" and "blog", but the “f” could represent a number of other f-words, such as "frustration", “funny” or “fake”. The words "flog" and “flogging” would also evoke images of literary characters being flogged by the challenges of contemporary life, i.e. imagine Goethe struggling with the fact that he has just written down a brilliant poem, but for some unfathomable reason, Windows Vista has crashed, his USB flash drive has become unreadable and the poem is lost forever. 

I googled the term "flog", just to make sure that it was truly unique and novel, but Wikipedia revealed that the word has already been taken. In digispeak, “flog” is used in a whole host of contexts, including “fictional blog”, “food blog”, “fake blog”. I then decided to coin a new portmanteau (I only recently learned what this word means, so I have the urge to keep on using it) – “phlog”, derived from “philosophical blog”. It turns out that “phlog” is already in use, apparently for a blog written with a Gopher protocol. I don’t really understand what that means, but I know that I cannot use it.

I have finally come up with a truly original portmanteau: “Phflog” – philosophical fictional blog. It is pronounced /fflɒɡ/ and the only way to distinguish it from just plain old “flog” is that “phflog” has a prolonged “f” sound in the beginning. I will soon start with some phflog-posts, probably some for Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and for Friedrich Nietzsche, both of them living in the present day USA. The phflogs will contain fragments of their writings or quotes from their books, intermingled with some present day events. This is a bit of an experiment and I would like to see where it goes.

Finding the Beauty of Atheism During Ramadan

During the month of Ramadan, Muslims all around the world fast by abstaining from food and drink during daytime hours. In addition to participating in these physical aspects of fasting, Muslims also see the month of Ramadan as an opportunity for spiritual growth. How this spiritual growth is achieved varies widely between cultures and individuals. Many Muslims devote an extraordinary amount of time to performing prayers, set aside time and money for charitable activities or study the Quran. My own approach to spiritual growth during Ramadan is to study the Scriptures and writings of other faiths and belief systems. I also like to engage in such interfaith readings outside of the month of Ramadan, but during Ramadan, my desire to learn about other faiths and beliefs intensifies.

The most plausible explanation for this is that my glucose-starved brain and dehydrated body are impatiently nudging me toward other belief systems as a reaction to depriving my body of food and drink for 17 hours. Nevertheless, plausibility does not necessarily make an explanation appealing. I have developed a personal, idiosyncratic explanation, which is (partly) grounded in the Muslim tradition. According to the Muslim narratives, God places the devils in chains during the month of Ramadan as a mercy to humans so that they can grow spiritually and are less likely to be lead astray by devils. The image that always comes to my mind is that of Mephistopheles from Goethe's Faust, in the classic performance by Gustaf Gründgens. I imagine Mephistopheles in an orange jump-suit, all chained up in a prison cell, cracking witty jokes and making snide comments, but unable to reach his target audience. I envision the devil leading humans astray by dampening our curiosity and our willingness to engage in dialogue; by preventing us from learning about what lies beyond our intellectual, spiritual and creative horizon and by creating a false sense of comfort. I believe that once the devil is placed in shackles during Ramadan, he is forced to release us from our cozy narrow-mindedness. My personal mythical narrative that I have developed around how the imprisoned devil fosters my interest in other faiths may not hold up to rigorous psychological testing or to traditional Muslim theology, but I want to stick with it.

In the course of studying non-Muslim writings and Scriptures during this past Ramadan, I came across the excellent essay "What I Believe" by the great atheist philosopher and Nobel laureate Bertrand Russell. This essay can be found in a collection of essays, including the famous or perhaps infamous "Why I Am Not a Christian". I remember reading this essay collection a number of years ago, but as with many of Bertrand Russell's writings, it does not hurt to continuously re-read them since one is bound to find new facets of wisdom each time. In "What I Believe" Russell formulates some of the key principles of his humanist and atheist philosophy.

Part of the essay is devoted to critiquing religion, such as when he says: 

"Religion, since it has its source in terror, has dignified certain kinds of fear and made people think them not disgraceful. In this it has done mankind a great disservice: all fear is bad."

Russell acknowledges that fear is found not only in religion, but in many aspects of our society.

"Fear is the basis of religious dogma, as of so much else in human life. Fear of human beings, individually or collectively, dominates much of our social life, but it is fear of nature that gives rise to religion."

Fear of human beings continues to dominate much of our lives today, nearly one century after Russell wrote these prescient words. When we look at sensationalist descriptions of infectious super-bugs, looming economic catastrophes, fear of wars and attacks -- our media and politics engulf us in a blanket of fear. Russell's comments about the emphasis on fear in religion are primarily directed toward the Christian faith, but I think they are applicable to the Muslim faith, too, since the recent Friday sermons that I attended all seem to harp on the importance of fearing God and hell-fire. Russell then offers us a vision of a "good life" without fear:

"The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge."

 This sentence encapsulates the beauty of atheism. Contemporary best-selling books and debates on TV often like to portray atheism as a form of anti-theism, as if its sole purpose were to fight religion. This feeds on the sensationalism of the public, thus boosting book-sales and guaranteeing large audiences, but it does not always do justice to the beauty and depth of atheism. At its core, atheism is not so much an anti-theism, but a life-affirming philosophy that celebrates the human spirit and intellect without relying on a supernatural force.

The remainder of the essay highlights the importance of cultivating courage as a means of overcoming fear, and clarifies what is meant with courage:

"But courage in fighting is by no means the only form, nor perhaps even the most important. There is courage in facing poverty, courage in facing derision, courage in facing the hostility of one's own herd. In these, the bravest soldiers are often lamentably deficient. And above all there is the courage to think calmly and rationally in the face of danger, and to control the impulse of panic fear or panic rage."

After reading the essay, I felt a sense of joy and hope. Joy because I had read an excellent essay with profound insights into human nature and hope because Russell eloquently reminded us that there is a path to the "good life" for all humans, as long as we are able to help each other overcome our fears and are guided by knowledge.

An earlier version of this article was originally published in the Huffington Post.