Interview #3 with Prof. Arthur Zajonc
On Science Education
{This
is the third in a series of interviews with Arthur Zajonc,
professor of
physics at Amherst College. Note: for the sake of
simplicity, in
this interview Arthur and I occasionally restricted ourselves to some
standard ways
of talking
and thinking, for instance about “experience,” which we
will want
to refine in later discussions.}
Steven: thanks for
agreeing to do another
interview, Arthur. There are many things that I would like to discuss,
but if
it's all right with you, perhaps it would be best this time to
concentrate on
the subject of science education. Our last interview dealt with issues
concerning education in general... could we turn our attention a little
more
towards a focus on science education in particular?
Arthur: yes,
I would be happy to.
ST: Again,
this would involve taking into account
the sorts of issues we have discussed in our previous two interviews.
So to
start with a two-part question: first, what do you see the state of
science
education to be now? I don’t mean with respect to the special concerns
that
we've been discussing, but just in general. Second, does it look
healthy to
you? Or does it seem to be in trouble?
AZ: I guess
we would have to consider the different
levels at which science education takes place: elementary school, high
school,
University-level... and I think each of those needs a different
approach. In
each case, there are some positive signs in our educational system,
broadly
conceived, and there are certain “problem signs”.
Starting
with middle school and upper elementary
grades, where science education often begins... my own feeling is that
especially in those periods, science education should be extremely
experiential
in its orientation, very "hands-on". Students should be engaged in
close observation, where they are allowed to get excited about what
they are
seeing, whether it is with physics education, the inanimate part of
nature that
surrounds you, or the more agricultural and biological sciences, where
they are
working with gardens they may have on-site, or going out in exploring
in
nature, studying animals. Schools could be building up resources, and
taking
advantage of resources that they have in their communities, that would
allow
the students to get out of the classrooms or to bring into the
classrooms an
experiential component of the natural world.
This would
allow them to engage deeply, observe
closely, begin to see patterns, but all very much at the hand of lived
experience. For many teachers nowadays, that's a bit of a scary thing,
because
it's not a preprogrammed, canned set of materials that they are moving
through.
The teachers feel out of their depth, and understandably so. But we
must
somehow find ways of recruiting experts from the community, or just
allowing
students to have an exploration which is guided through a series of
appropriate
questions, without the teacher having to pretend to be the expert.
So there's a
whole curriculum one could develop
based on such things... and there are places in our standard
educational
system, like the traditional Waldorf educational system, but also in
other
places, where you begin to see an appreciation for that. Often this is
associated with hands-on exhibits in science museums. Like the
Exploratorium in
San Francisco—it
has a long tradition of providing that kind of engagement for both
adults and
young people. But if this could also be developed much more and taken
systematically into our public schools, I think it would be very
beneficial. It
brings the students into not just intellectual relationship with
nature, but
one that is both experiential and even ethical. Where you feel
connected, and
in a certain sense, even responsible for the natural world of which you
are so
much a part … as opposed to being distanced from it ….
ST: it
grounds ethical insights and responses, yes.
A good point.
AZ: so all
that I think is important, and applies
to the general area of elementary grades. Then in the high schools,
there I
think you're in a kind of transition region, where you're moving from
that
experiential and imaginative engagement with the natural world... by
the
seventh and eighth grade in high school, you're starting to develop
more
systematic and increasingly abstract relationships. Your skills in
mathematics
etc., are developing. Again, I think often one finds in the high school
curriculum we currently have, an overemphasis on chalkboard or
pre-canned
programmatic learning, as opposed to original exploration.
ST: you
don’t mean to say you’re opposed to the
movement towards the development of more abstract skills?
AZ: no, of
course not. But this theme of the
creative and experiential engagement with nature has a role to play not
only in
the elementary grades, but in a new way in the upper grades and in high
school... those components are still important. You know, my own
familiarity
and work with Goethe's ideas on science has provided a source of
inspiration
regarding possible approaches to a systematic observation in many
areas,
whether it's the world of biology in botany, or the world of color and
other
scientific physical systems, approached scientifically... each of those
can be
handled in a way that is more phenomenologically driven than just
driven
through abstract representation alone. By the time you enter the
university,
you've typically got a thousand- or two-thousand page textbook you've
got to
get through in a semester or two. The pace is ferocious, the
expectation is
high that you're going to cover a lot of material in very short order.
It's
essentially a script that we've been reading from high school all the
way
through the first couple of years of college science education. And
it's
singularly unimaginative. It's an amazingly dry curriculum.
ST: you
don't mind my including that comment in the
interview?
AZ: no, it's
all right... I think most people would
admit it. And any attempts to work outside of that script are usually
rebuffed
by publishers. I've had a number of colleagues who have attempted to
develop
much more engaged, student-oriented, conversational styles of teaching,
that
work with lots of data and experiential approaches... or with
conversationally-based problem-solving. And they've even developed
textbook
materials for this approach, etc. And still it’s very tough to find a
publisher
who will risk it. The main stream has decided what the market wants,
and then
continues to turn out what amount to clones of the best-selling science
textbooks in chemistry, physics, and biology. There's very little
variation. So
it's singularly unimaginative. The politics of the situation are tough.
So, what's
missing? What sorts of strategies might
be added in, without going to any extreme?
ST: so your
concern is to offer a better, more
effective education, rather than just being different in some radical
way, or
merely on philosophical grounds? To help the students’ minds
development more
fully …
AZ: right,
of course. One strategy is that you can
supplement the materials that you're getting, through your own lectures
and
assignments. So you take the givens, the expectations in the textbooks
that you
inherit from your field, then you bring in ample experiments,
demonstrations,
biography, stories of discovery... you try to lead students themselves
to those
moments of discovery through a kind of miniature reenactment of what
the
historical context and situation was. In this way they come to not only
a
memorization and application of certain formulas and procedures, but
they
actually begin to see through the experiments and equations, to
something which
is, after all, the animating idea or law that they are investigating.
My
philosophy of education is that it's a seamless
reenactment or reliving of all the key moments of discovery that you've
undertaken in Western science. So if you're going to try to understand
projectile motion, with Galileo for example, it's not enough to write
down the
equation for parabola on the blackboard, and then say “write this down,
this is
an equation governing projectile motion, and then we are going to have
to do a
certain application to demonstrate that it's true, and you will learn
how to
plug in the appropriate parameters and numbers and initial conditions,
and you
get the predicted result.”
The
questions should be: “how is it that you come
to see or to witness or perceive the parabola in projectile motion?
What does
it feel like in some sense, to be Galileo all over again? And to see
what he
saw?” Which was not just stones flying through the air, but seeing that
this is
a generalized behavior, which can be expressed mathematically, but also
can be
actually witnessed directly. And the same can be said all the way
through, for
the laws of electricity and magnetism, even the laws of more modern
science...
you can work your way through the phenomena, and then also as students
become
more adept and familiar with the mathematical representations of these
things,
even through the mathematics one begins to see that this is a
language... the
phenomena are a language, the mathematics is a language, behind which
there is
a kind of meaning. It's the meaning that we are trying to get the
students to
appreciate, and to experience. And if they haven't made that
transition, then
the teaching hasn't been complete.
ST: excuse
me, what you just said was that the
phenomena and the mathematics are a language... were you actually try
to say
that the phenomena themselves are a language of some sort?
AZ: yes, I
think you could say that phenomena come
in types... there's just a flood of phenomenal experience, which may be
inchoate and confusing and inarticulate to us. But as one steeps
oneself in a
domain of inquiry, where you begin to recognize that certain phenomena
in particular
belong together, that they form a whole—whereas certain other pieces
are
extraneous, or just small players in the whole field of inquiry. Then
somewhere
else, by contrast, there's a central set that are all knit together.
And as I
vary certain conditions of appearance—the conditions under which
certain
phenomena arise—then the phenomena themselves more often change... and
they do
so in systematic ways. Then you begin to feel your way into what is a
lawful
and systematic set of relationships that cohere and exist between these
different parts of this domain. The phenomena are expressions of those
conditions. It's all part of an organic whole.
So it
becomes a bit of a language, through which
you are looking and beginning to see that pattern or wholeness. It
begins to
become increasingly articulate. To me, that's important—you're on the
threshold
of a discovery! You're on the threshold of this experience of apercu
that
Goethe talks about, of actually seeing into the world. You could say
the same
thing... let's say you think of a language that you do not know, and
you need
to decipher it... you can work your way into it, into the patterns and
structures of that language, so that you can begin to get hints as to
what must
be going on. Gradually you can decode that language and come to
understand for
the first time what might otherwise be impenetrable. But it takes a
long
engagement with the phenomena themselves.
Mathematics,
in its own strange way, in a kind of
special form, is also a particular kind of language. It takes away from
the
world of experience and phenomena, it factors out the direct, sensorial
and you
might say even emotional, dimension of what it is that's before you,
and
highlights more its structural elements. And the structural elements
become far
more lucid and clear, at some cost, because we feel ourselves a bit
more
distant from the actual lived experience; nevertheless, through that
lucidity
we’re able to be closer, in one dimension at least, to the phenomena
themselves. So the mathematics also, for certain students, can be a
window into
a meaningful relationship to a domain of experience. So both of these,
to me,
are completely legitimate ways of engaging, and even related ways of
engaging,
the world of nature scientifically.
Now we tend
to give short shrift to the
experiential dimension, even in the universities. We do outline
occasional
experiments and demonstrations to illustrate something we already know
from
equations we've written down and studied, but there is very little of
the
discovery process involved, which I think is a shame. And as a
consequence the
mathematics becomes a bit inert—you know, it's on the blackboard, the
students
write it down dutifully and memorize or crank out the equations, but
they don't
have a way of seeing in the equations a relationship back to the
phenomenal
world. One of my best professors, back when I was a student … when he
was
through presenting Maxwell's equations, basically required us in our
final exam
to say what were the phenomena that stood behind each one of these four
equations. They are compact differential equations to capture the whole
of
electromagnetism. But behind each of them there is either one or a
small set of
experiments, which you could say are like what Goethe called the
archetypal
experiments—they are the same thing, really, as the equation, but in
phenomenal
form. He appreciated that, and felt you had to live that connection,
that these
were not inert, they were not just be played with mathematically, they
were to
be seen through to a level of phenomenal experience.
ST:
interesting. I would have to chat more to fully
see your point about experiments being the same as the equations, but I
agree
completely with the basic point I think you’re really making here. I
always
felt something very similar about mathematics itself... it seemed to me
that
even for mathematics in general, not just applied math, it would be far
better
to train people to see the world, the forms and dynamics of the
phenomenal
world, in terms of the mathematics. Invite them to see the vast range
of
phenomena that all this abstract math, the formalisms, etc., actually
might
correspond to, and exactly why or how.
AZ: yeah, I
think that for most students
especially... of course for a few it’s really possible to live in a
completely
abstract domain, but for most students, to learn to move seamlessly
back and
forth between the mathematics and some kind of relationship to the
phenomenal
world, is really helpful, even if it's only by way of analogy, and not
completely
direct. It provides a scaffolding which then becomes a real springboard
for the
imagination. I think this is true for both the phenomenal side and also
the
biographical aspect—i.e., the story behind each of the discoveries, the
people—these are missing too. So we give too much emphasis to an
abstract set
of rules and laws which we learn to manipulate. This doesn’t lead to
being a
good scientist. And we dehumanize the whole scientific enterprise, with
one or
two exceptions like an Einstein, so it becomes a colorless domain of
inquiry,
without the richness of the phenomenal world. I think for many
students, it
then becomes a sad business. They can't put themselves into it, it has
become
depersonalized. And it's not filled with experience and engagement. So
from
that standpoint, we could be doing so much better.
ST: yes. So
summarizing again, I think the main
point here, beyond just the motivation issues that affect students
these days,
is that you are arguing for a type of education that would actually
make peoples'
sensibilities, their perceptiveness and rational capacities be more
fully
developed than they would be otherwise.
AZ: yes, the
way I see it, there are a couple of
benefits to what we are talking about. By keeping things close to
phenomena, by
bringing in the human dimension, okay we make it interesting for
students, but
how does one move, as you say, beyond just the motivational side? There
are a
couple of points here. One has to realize that the concepts that we
bring to
the world around us, are really born out of a very intimate dialogue
with that
world.
ST: a very
good point. One has to go back to that
analysis of how cognition works in general, and how it works best, in
order to
appreciate the importance of this.
AZ: yes.
Somehow, because they're given in a
textbook, one comes to feel these concepts we apply in science are
simply there,
just laying about in the world like artifacts. Actually they are the
fruit of
an extraordinary engagement, often a debate amongst a group or
community of
scientists, concerning what are the most powerful ideas to bring to
bear... so
things like energy or momentum, were once seen as God-given forces in
the
universe that somehow were conserved because God was eternal. There is
a whole
rich background story to everything involved. You begin to realize the
human
dimension of this thing we call natural science. And the languages
(plural)
that we use to describe... in physics for example, one particular range
of
phenomena may be quite varied. So we may use Newtonian mechanics or
Lagrangian
mechanics or Hamiltonian mechanics or Jacobian theory, the calculus of
variations, limit principles... all of those will describe exactly the
same
phenomena, but in different languages, each one of which involves a set
of
concepts that it brings to bear, and by allowing us to realize the
richness of
that range of conceptual framing, it frees us from a myopic view that,
for
example, everything has to be framed according to Newton's way of
thinking, for
instance. So we become freer in our conceptual framing. We don't overly
reify
or concretize our concepts. We realize that these are dialogically
given, and
if they're not useful, they will disappear and a new method of framing
will be
taken up, that may be even better for a particular application.
ST: are you
arguing that this freedom, this felt
freedom to move from one language to another, comes from
this development of our faculties?
AZ: I think
it's a particular kind of development
of our faculties. There's one stage where you're just trying to see anything, so to speak. But then what
happens is that you make one discovery, and this happens all the
time—and it
becomes a tyrant. Because you've made one discovery, you think you can
generalize that one discovery or insight, and you totalize it. “This is
the
truth, and it applies to all circumstances.” So then you've created a
form of
reductionism. A more fertile form of perception, is one which realizes
that any
form of representation of this activity which we call the natural world—
ST: is less
rich than the perception, yeah.
AZ: right.
It runs the risk of becoming a myopic
projection. And so by multiplying your viewpoints, and the languages of
discourse and analysis, you begin to realize that the fecundity of the
natural
world is such that any set of questions you pose will in some sense,
implicitly
if not explicitly, frame things up for a particular type of answer. The
language will be particularized. If you come at it differently, from a
different orientation and a different set of presuppositions, where the
questions raised are slightly different, then a new language is
required. And
so forth around the circle. I feel like very often, if we are doing our
work in
the best way, we are actually circling a domain, which can express
itself in
multiple languages. In fact we begin to realize that maybe there's an
infinite
variety of ways of discerning aspects of this particular domain of
inquiry, the
domain of phenomena.
ST: yes.
You're raising a very important set of
issues here. If I may step back for a moment, looking at our previous
collaborations and our interests in the relevance of contemplative
traditions,
there the issue is to develop a kind of insight that is far richer than
any—
AZ:
particular ideology.
ST: exactly.
And any narrow explication of it, or
explicit statement of it. And that notion, the notion that that is even
possible, is pretty much lost now in our culture. In other words, it's
not
understood that that can even happen.
AZ: right.
ST: … that
there could be an insight that is richer
than an explicit or formal statement of it. This has many consequences,
one of
which is—reverberating back in the other direction—that we become
incapable of
having insights which are anything other than a poor cousin to a formal
statement of some sort. We end up thinking rather narrowly, and don't
really
give ourselves a chance to do anything more—we can't easily imagine
such a
thing. So then disciplines like contemplation are seen to be spacey or
esoteric
or dubious, precisely because of the flawed analysis that's implicit
here.
People don't... because their faculties become collapsed or truncated
in some
ways, everything they can imagine to be going on in contemplation would
be
irrelevant to rational discourse, scientific inquiry, etc.
AZ: right.
People think it's just about emptying
your mind, not thinking, not knowing, not seeing.
ST: yes,
that whole picture is wrong. It misframes
the whole dialogue about what contemplation could contribute to other
rational
arts or disciplines.
AZ: yes. So
when one speaks about education, it
seems to me that because we are so tightly scripted in some ways, the
ideology
of science, this myopia, is enforced and strengthened. If you can tell
multiple
stories with multiple players—and you have to tell all the stories,
which are
many—all of a sudden there is a break in the grip of a particular
ideology. And
you think “well which is true?” And then you think “well wait a minute,
maybe
they're both true from their respective vantage points.” Each has its
own distinct
way of speaking and thinking, and they look to be contradictory, but
they're
not. They round out and enrich our perspectives, and provide fresh ways
of
gaining insight, which in some ways ultimately will transcend any
particular
one of these frameworks and ideological expressions. And then you begin
to
loosen up. It doesn't become a relativism—that's one of the great
mistakes that
typically arises in these sorts of conversations, people think that
because
there's more than one way of framing up a discussion, that it's
arbitrary.
ST: yeah, it
might actually show that certain uses
or choices of language that are in vogue, are actually inadequate to
the
phenomenon.
AZ: right.
ST: so far
from being fluffy or relative in the
sense of being insipid—
AZ: it
becomes far more nuanced, yes. More subtle
and mobile in your analysis and thinking. It's quite liberating then to
realize
that you are neither in a completely objectivized world, where there's
a single
truth in a single language, nor a completely relativized world, where
nothing
makes any difference and it's all just socially constructed. Rather,
you are in
this dynamic interplay between world and self, where representations
and formal
expressions are always going to be individuated, but that doesn't that
the
world isn't also speaking. So that's one piece that I think gets lost
in this
diminished form of science education that we have now. The other, that
I think
is equally important, and comes from another quarter, has to do with
the
ethical or moral dimensions of our engagements with the natural world
and with
each other. If one strips out the sensual or direct engagement with the
natural
world, in some ways you make an intimate or compassionate or
participatory
engagement with that world very difficult.
ST: yeah,
it's basically impossible … certainly not
apparently meaningful or relevant.
AZ: yeah, so
now you are dealing with some sort of
third-hand version. Galileo saw something centuries ago, it gets
reported,
annotated, made into a textbook, is canned into a little scripted
presentation
that the teacher gives, and so you end up way down the line with the
situation
I’ve described. And then the student is supposed to have some kind of
engagement or relation with the natural world, via this method? Very
tough.
So as a
consequence, you become alienated or
separated out from the natural world and from our fellow human beings,
and the
more powerful the scientific paradigm, not only do we become separated
but a
kind of construct is developed of what nature actually is—that
construct is
instantiated into the world as if it were "reality"—
ST: when you
say “instantiated”, you mean something
like “inserted”?
AZ: yes.
Then you act toward that construct of
reality with the moral behavior or compassionate relationship?
Impossible.
Because it's an artifact. So all your moral decisions or your ethical
quandaries are in relationship to a fabrication, as opposed to a direct
engagement. So this way of diminishing our direct experience and
creating these
ideological frameworks, just a single one usually, is also a program
for an
ethical disaster. You have no direct, compassionate way of connecting
to things
like the environmental crises we now have, problems in cities and urban
areas,
human crises and health issues—everything is kept at arms length, and
we end up
dealing with artifacts and constructs, as opposed to reality.
ST: yes.
Speaking as a teacher of contemplative
traditions, I would say this point needs to be made very extensively,
and along
several different lines with respect to different kinds of perceptions
and
sensibilities that are now atrophied or unknown … or precluded by our
current
ways of thinking.
AZ: so not
just in talking about things like
wavelengths of light, but in actually seeing colors—it goes all the way
down to
the most basic issues in science. Even in such matters, there are
ethical
consequences. Depriving somebody of the experience of real color
mixing, or
real work with the plant world, it's not just a matter of thinking
“it's too
bad we don't have time to do that little experiment,” but it actually
has moral
consequences downstream.
ST: of
course I'm in total agreement with you here.
But just for fun, let me play devil's advocate for a moment. Both with
respect
to this latter issue you just raised, and our previous points as well,
let's
say that I or some of our readers take the position that the whole
point of
something like physics is to deal with the fact that reality—Nature—if
you want
to call it that, goes far beyond the human sphere. So according to this
view,
human notions and sensibilities become increasingly irrelevant to the
reality
that can be inferred through experiment and a lot of mathematical
fiddling,
etc. Thus it seems it’s not our job to emphasize a sort of middle-level
(human)
orientation when in fact reality is a lot more depth to it than that
and can’t
be held accountable for going beyond human perspectives (perception,
intuition,
faculties that can be developed by relating more fully to Nature in the
way
that you have described). So someone might argue that maybe it's
lamentable but
just as a matter of fact, reality has this extra scope to it and our
job is
scientists is to follow it, and in the process drop tools—including
cognitive
tools—that are simply inadequate to the task or are irrelevant. Of
course this
bears on the ethical issues we raised as well, since that's another
middle-tier
thing. How would you respond to that?
AZ: right.
Well I think that that is a tough and
important question, and here is how I think about it. There is a middle
sphere
of what we might call "scale", a mesoscopic level, where objects are
more or less on our size- and time-scale. And we can extend that a
little bit
through the use of instrumentation like microscopes and telescopes and
a variety
of techniques, but basically there is a way in which we can "live
into" this domain of phenomena... the color world, the world of
movement
and mechanics and animals, and even microbes under the microscope,
where ...
like Barbara McClintock investigated genes and chromosomes for her corn
and
maize studies. So that's one domain.
But then
there comes a time where we reach a
threshold, you cross over, as you say, beyond anything we have a direct
cognitive access to in any form at all. So there you are relying on
inference.
So it's not that you don't have experimental results, you do. But
they're just
streams of numbers coming out of computers or whatever, and there is no
way you
can extend your cognitive faculties, in any meaningful sense, down to
that
level -- the level of quarks, gluons, all the stuff of elementary
particle
physics. And much of the stuff of molecular biology etc. is beyond that
threshold. Also, just at those thresholds, we find extraordinary
power... one
thinks of the atomic bomb in nuclear physics. One has crossed over the
threshold, past the atom and into the nucleus, which is completely
remote. So
one is working very expertly and due to great technical sophistication,
at a
level where one cannot really cognitively connect in a way that
somebody like
Goethe would have us connect.
The same
thing could happen with molecular biology
and genetics—yielding all the moral dilemmas that arise because of this
very
powerful new technology... they arise because we crossed over this
threshold. And
you could say that what we are being asked to do now is... frankly it's
a
matter of developing new capacities of moral judgment and moral
intuition which
can operate in a space that is, at first, separated off from the
natural world
around us, the world that we have been genetically equipped to deal
with (the
world of the senses and the cognitions that connect to it). So this
poses a
very powerful, and I think decisive, kind of moral dilemma for us. Is
the human
being, in the absence of a kind of natural participation and
compassion, still
equipped to deal with the forces of nature and the technological
developments
that arise on the other side of that threshold?
ST: well, we
are certainly equipped to deal with
the way they impact us. That
doesn't involve any new thinking, or addition to the points you and I
have
already raised.
AZ: that's
true. So certainly when something like a
bomb goes off, it affects us on our level. It's not just something that
happens
down there on a molecular level. But in some sense you could say the
thought
structures of the quality of engagement that we have with that
subatomic or
molecular world, seems to me to be fundamentally different than the one
we have
at this mesoscopic level. And whether that means that you need another
development of moral sensibilities or not, I think this is a gray area.
I think
at the level where the consequences play out, you can make your
judgments based
on the compassionate engagement and participation one has in the world
...
whether it's health and biotech, or politics and war, etc. But I admit
I don't
have a deeply considered response to you on that point. I think that's
a good
question.
ST: well, I
think that's very fair (laughs). It's
not clear that anyone ever will.
AZ: I think
it's a great question. The piece that
seems clear to me is something that Bas van Fraassen and you and I once
talked
about: ... in some ways, I think Bas is “anti-atomism”, a consequence
of his
“anti-realist” position. When you lose contact with the sensual
dimensions of
existence, you are in a new domain. It's then purely conceptual, there
is no
felt reality. And as a consequence, what you might call the aesthetic
and moral
dimensions of that molecular or subatomic world, are unclear. It's a
new kind
of territory. And I think the anti-realist in Bob wants to say “well,
it's no
longer ‘real’. What's ‘real’ is what you can make contact with. So yes,
you can
extend it a bit through using instrumentation like a microscope, but at
a
certain point you lose that connection. And then it is no longer 'real'
in any
proper sense of the word.”
Now, what I
think he means by the word “real” is
that you can't make a moral or true aesthetic relationship to it, you
can only
have an abstract relationship with it. So it doesn't have the
full-bodied
significance of the real world around us. I think that's an important
distinction. But then let's say that your technology has developed out
of that
subterranean world, out of that “unreal” world... and it shows back up
on the
planet—as biotechnology, etc.. Okay. Even though we had dipped down
below our
competences, cognitively, in a certain way, to a kind of “irreality” or
“unreality” in Bas's view, we ended up coming back with something
fierce and
large. Are we now competent to deal with the ethical implications of
our, in
substance, partially blind exploration? And that is unclear to me. We
seem to
be barely managing.
It feels to
me like the technologies that are born
through that excursion are ones we are only barely competent to manage
in any
way, shape or form. We've somehow managed to survive in the face of all
that,
but we are now on the verge of massive changes with regards to biotech
and
genetic manipulations. I don't know whether we will be equally
fortunate there.
So it seems to me that there is a new level, through those excursions,
where a
new level of challenge has been raised... are the moral capacities that
we
have, adequate to manage those? What does it take to really imagine a
great,
large-scale disaster? Are we really capable of that? Or is it just
fantasy for
us, just statistics? The same thing with germ-line therapy etc. It's a
kind of
failure of imagination that's at issue here. Whereas if you are dealing
at the
mesoscopic scale, you can encompass it, more or less. But since we are
in this
large, global, interconnected system, we lost the ability of direct
participation going into a small hidden scales and then there's a kind
of
failure of ethical imagination when we come to these extremely large,
powerful
technologies that result.
ST: well, in
regards to my original question, there
are several different things going on here, of course. For instance,
one is our
lack of direct connection to the phenomena themselves at very small
scales.
Another is our lack of familiarity with the capabilities and power that
are
derived from tapping into that scale.
AZ: yeah, I
wonder if those are connected somehow.
ST: your
intuition here seems to hinge on the
notion that they are connected.
AZ: yeah, I
admit that it's only a kind of intuition...
but we tend to plunge blindly into a domain where if we had a true
relationship
to that domain, we'd realize the awesomeness present there, and perhaps
would
back off a bit. But because we are just going along blithely with our
intellect
alone, we just churn it all up. Then we come out and are astonished at
what we
have on our hands. And then we race to keep up, ethically, with the
implications of our new technical and intellectual developments.
ST: I think
to discuss this thoroughly, would
involve bringing in more of what we have discussed concerning what’s
vaguely
referred to as “spirituality” and contemplative disciplines in general.
Those
have a lot more scope than just dealing with the ordinary perceived
physical
world, and ordinary scale. I don't mean to claim, of course, that one
can use
contemplation to see what an electron microscope sees, only that it
helps us in
maturing our relationship to some subtle domains, dynamics, and issues,
which
might then help prepare us for the consequences of our explorations in
physical
science. This isn't the subject of our present chat, but probably
should be
included in a longer treatment of the issues you raise.
AZ: yes, I
agree with you. If we were going to
really tackle this in-depth, we would need to tackle those themes more
fully as
well.
ST: just
doubling back for a second, before we
close... one aspect of my earlier question that was raising for you,
was what
does it say about your sense of what science education needs to be?
Because, if
for instance the job of 21st-century physics education is to prepare
students
to deal with increasingly more subtle or opaque levels of reality that
are
quite beyond the middle-tier that we hobbit-like humans inhabit, does
it really
make sense to continue emphasizing this hands-on approach you've
described?
Might that actually blunt
peoples’ more abstract capacities, which are particularly valued, and
properly
valued (!), now in cutting-edge theoretical physics? I don't mean to
say that I
believe this “blunting” thesis, I just feel obliged to ask: is this
really the
right way to go, or is it already outdated or quant notion in some
sense?
AZ: (laughs)
yeah. I still think in order to handle
the things we were just discussing, like the ethical implications of
modern technology,
we need all the practice we can get at this middle-tier level.
ST: but for
the sake of argument, let's say what
were not concerned anymore about the ethics issue, just about learning
and
advancing the cutting-edge science... might the capacities that are
optimal for
developing our ethical sensibilities be suboptimal or even stunt the
development of the abstract rational faculties that are needed to do
new
physics?
AZ: yes,
well I'd say there are two sides to that.
One side is that there are ways in which you could try to make
shortcuts. You
narrow down what you think of as physics, and you optimize your
instruction so
that you get narrow achievement. I think what that leads to is a very
high
level of technical competency, and sometimes you see that in the
educational
systems of some other countries... where students are extremely
well-educated,
but in a very narrow way. They come into your lab and or your project
group,
and you realize they have had, for instance, a remarkably fine
mathematical and
physics-based training; but they see “neither right nor left”. And as a
consequence you very often feel that they're going to do a very
competent but
pretty pedestrian job of actually pushing the frontiers forward. By
contrast,
it feels to me that an education that’s broad in the way that we've
been
discussing, really might cultivate capacities, as we've been saying,
for new
insights, for true discovery.
ST: yes, I
think so too. It's just a question of
accounting for how that can happen, and why the “stunting” worry isn’t
so
serious.
AZ: I see
this as a creativity issue... you can't
shortcut it. It's going to be experiential, and direct, and you've got
to know
it when it shows up. You have to reach into domains of “not knowing”,
rather
than just knowing everything that's in the textbook.
ST: so
you're saying you have to be acclimated to
“not knowing” in order to set the stage for accessing—
AZ: yes, for
areas that cannot be known in the old
ways, you have to be able to sustain ambiguity for long periods of
time... the
things that you hear about, regarding the most creative folks, is that
they
were or are working on unsolved problem, sometimes for years at a time,
they're
not just working on equations which have well-known solutions. They're
working
on things for which equations don't even exist yet. So how do you
navigate
that, when there's no textbook or standard approach available? That
requires a
different mentality... how do you train for that kind of mentality? I
think you
school it through this more experiential, "multiple framings"
approach we were talking about. So you can loosen up the grip of
standard
ideological frameworks... things that look more messy, but it creates
the
openness in the system that allows true insight or genius to emerge.
ST: I think
it's very important to consider this
approach. Otherwise, it's very likely that people will say that the
type of
education you and I would prefer is becoming increasingly irrelevant to
the
future of science, which trends toward the more abstract. I think that
they
forget that what we are talking about is the education of people! And that science is done by
people. If the question is, "is this the wrong way to go?", then my
answer is "compared to what?!" If the alternative is the narrow, very
abstract and "bound to today's knowledge"-type of education, you are
condemning the human beings, the students, to being undeveloped... so
then the
argument becomes restated as "are undeveloped people more likely to do
21st-century science than are developed people?" I don’t think it’s
unreasonable to say the answer is “no!” So it depends on how people
look at
what education is about, and also at what science itself is. It all
still comes
back to us, in a certain way.
AZ: right.
ST: it's an
interesting fact you were bringing up,
that this type of robust, engaged education, not only makes us
better-equipped
to deal with the world we can study in a more general level of natural
science,
but it also equips us better to free
ourselves, where necessary, of the middle-tier thinking... as
paradoxical as
that sounds. If we have any way of freeing ourselves from what in some
cases at
least might be true limitations there, it may still be this
experiential
approach.
AZ: yes.
Arthur
and Steven, 12/12/06.