Enlightened Science

Gandhi once observed that politicians were so preoccupied with inventing the perfect society, they had neglected the importance of individuals themselves practicing good conduct. He was of the opinion, then, that social engineering and legal systems were no substitute for enlightened behavior by individual humans. Yet within our scientific community there seems to be an unswerving faith that the self-correcting nature of science transcends the need to concern ourselves with ethical matters such as our motivation and our behavior.

The science fiction writer, Isaac Asimov, had a great deal to say about the motivation and behavior of scientists. In one of his classic tales of time travel, the narrator has to ultimately choose whether or not to allow the existence of the scientific class that produced time travel in the first place. He could, through his access to the past, select a human history where the lords of time travel themselves do not occur. As he considers the pros and cons, he reflects upon the neurotic and obsessive behavior of the scientific ruling class, their petty hatreds, and their lack of love for humanity. He concludes that the more the masters of time travel try to improve the human condition by meddling with past events, the worse the human condition seems to become.

Were Gandhi and Asimov wrong? This is not a trivial question. Today there are more scientists at work than at any time in human history. We (they) are both part of society, yet separated from it. We are therefore not unlike the shamans in tribal societies, or the samurai in feudal Japan. We prize our thoughts, our process of rational inquiry, our publications, and our ability to deliver new technology. Yet, if we look into our own lives, and the lives of colleagues around us, we can see that in spite of our intellectual mastery, we cannot escape being also still mired in the human condition, the state of mind that Thoreau called ‘quiet desperation’. Our mental powers have not enabled us to personally escape the dissatisfaction, impermanence and irritations of human experience. Indeed, the politics of academic life are notorious.

Perhaps Gandhi and Asimov were pointing at the same thing. We may have erred in subtly absorbing a social engineer’s view of science. One of the most cherished elements of the scientific process is that it is self-correcting. That is, we believe, and we teach our students, that the data will ultimately triumph over ignorance, and that however erroneous the beliefs of individual scientists, and however unpalatable their personal conduct, the facts will win in the long run. Assuming for the moment that our belief in self-correction is justified (and one could argue that it might not be so), hidden within this belief is a much darker secondary message. The secondary message is that the motivation and personal conduct of scientists is irrelevant. Consider the consequences of such a belief, first for the people involved, and then for the efficiency of the scientific system.

Consequences for the individual

Faith in the self-correcting tendency of science can easily become twisted into a more pernicious form; since science is self correcting, the logic goes, none of us need even to try to be decent. Part of the fascination of scientific biographies may be the crudity of the motivations that produce the result. One could easily read some biographies and conclude that in order to succeed it is not only acceptable, but even necessary to indulge the base and vulgar parts of the human psyche. Science is after all, self correcting. Why be good, why reflect upon motivation, why help others, why explore ourselves? Why do any of these when the system does not require it? Indeed, if anything, the system seems to reward those who are most unethical among us. It is my impression that this pernicious twist has become increasingly entrenched. By accepting that science will correct error, we have also accepted the belief that individual scientists no longer need to consider the ethical or moral aspects of our lives. From the perspective of the individual, the idea of being immersed in a self correcting system that cares not a white about our motivation and conduct is a particularly degraded view of how the individual relates to society at large. This degradation is apparent at a whole series of levels. It implies that there is not personal benefit to self examination and right action. It implies that harmful actions are indistinguishable from helpful ones. It promotes the very sort of self-indulgence that transmits suffering from one person to another. It is likely to damage the early careers of bright young scientists. It implies that samsara, the endless cycle of human suffering, is to be embraced rather than serving as the starting point for enlightenment.

Consequences for the system

Now consider the effects for the scientific system. If we indulge the worst in human behavior, and trust the system to sort it out in the end, we trap ourselves in a system that is far less productive than it could be. Consider, for example, the enormous amounts of time spent in bitter debates that do not advance the cause science. Consider the pressures to publish large numbers of trivial papers just in increase one’s resume length. Consider the conferences where rational debate is subsumed by self-promotion. Consider the number of research projects motivated more by ambition and cronyism than be calm consideration of scientific and social outcomes. Consider the number of important results that never see the light of day because of politically motivated reviews. Consider the number of poorly thought out papers that are published in major journals desperate for the latest story, and the number of retractions that then have to be published. Consider the number of students who willingly follow the leader in planning their research, falling into habitual patterns of thought and action before they even graduate. Over my career I have received hundreds of bitterly negative anonymous reviews of my work, which indicates to me the amount of anger people are willing to express when they believe themselves to be anonymous, and at a deeper level, the amount of anger and frustration in our discipline. I cannot accept that this kind of system is the only one that is possible, that are more efficient system could arise were the people involved more humane and decent to everyone in the system. A system in which individuals strived not only for narrowly defined scholarly excellence, but to exemplify principles like respect, modesty, and appreciation for different points of view. And a system too, where scholars gave back to their students and communities as a vital part of their academic life. Such as system of enlightened science might be far more efficient. I suspect that many will say it is impossible, which only shows how degraded our view of scholars and scholarship has become.

In short, just because science can self-correct over time, allowing it to passively do so will not necessarily produce the most desirable results for individuals, societies, or the advance of knowledge. Self-correction is, from one point of view, a kind of cynical lowest common denominator. Rather than being a thing of beauty in its own right, it is making the best of a bad situation rather than trying to improve the situation. It is like saying since humans have an immune system, therefore we can infect ourselves with all manner of foreign matter and infective bacteria and pathogenic viruses in the naive belief the immune system will maintain the human physiology. Even if we do not get ill and die, it is unlikely to be a wise type of conduct.

On high speed chain saws

Consider a practical example that illustrates how individual decisions affect system efficiently. An acquaintance of mine had faith that a new high speed chain saw transcended the need to keep the individual teeth on the chain sharp. In the end, he gave up wood cutting in frustration and anger, convinced that he had been cheated in buying that saw. I recally a scene in which he was angily pulling the dull saw back and forth over the logs, treating the powerful chain saw like an old hand saw, while the motor roared and the dull teeth slid harmlessly over the surface of his logs. A spiritual practitioner of science, or any other endeavor, would observe that while a high speed saw has merits, it is an inefficient tool for cutting wood without finely honed individual teeth. And, needless to say, you have to stop the saw to sharpen the teeth. I think this is what Gandhi was trying to tell his politicians. And from the point of view of modern science, it seems that the pressure is on to make the chain move faster and no one dares to take the time to stop the saw and sharpen the teeth, let alone check the air filter.
My neighbor became angry when I offered to sharpen his saw; he was too involved in the intense struggle with the saw and the logs to relax in the shade and take the time to try something that was not only new, but, to him, obviously unproductive. Why stop the saw when you could still be cutting wood? From this perspective, taking the time to sharpen teeth with a file is as much a water of time as siting on a mediation cushion. Like my angry neighbor, it seems that too many among us are insulted by the view that each of us possesses enlightened nature (sometimes translated as Buddha nature) and that we could express this enlightened nature in our life and work. Our rational minds, trained to a fine edge of skepticism, seem affronted by anyone asserting that enlightened behavior is desirable, or relevant, to technological humans. Another part of us may be curious about stopping the saw and filing the teeth. Perhaps we have seen someone working with a sharp chain, and been stuck by the evident power of a well-honed saw and a light touch. Or perhaps we have seen a skilled practitioner of Zen archery, or a flower arrangement by an Ikebana master, and our mind briefly stops. We pause to wonder: what is going on here? It seems that something new is occurring, something that our rational mind cannot exactly grasp nor conveniently discard.

What if we could each, individually, bring such clarity and skill to our practice of science? Where would we turn for advice on right conduct? The enlightened warrior might be one example. In Zen archery, which informs the way of the warrior, the way of the bow, the whistling arrow striking the heart of the target without effort, is regarded not as an end in itself, but as a path, a practice, a way of being. The archer shoots in order to wake up. We need not scheme to strike the center of the target. We need not brag about the result. Indeed, the very desire to strike the target is an obstacle.

What would science be like if it were conducted with the same samurai training? What would science be like if we treated enlightenment with the same respect we treated knowledge? What would science be like if we placed greater emphasis upon the spiritual aspects of personal right conduct, rather than putting our faith in the self-correcting nature of the discipline? What if our work was not an obstacle to a complete life, but a means of deepening and broadening our appreciation of life as a whole? What if we were to rediscover the monastic roots which once infused scientists with simultaneous spiritual and intellectual challenges? What if we put more emphasis on giving to others than winning fame for ourselves? What if the conduct of a scientist, like the conduct of the samurai warrior, the wandering poet, or silent hermit were simply seen as yet another path to enlightenment?