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Simplification in science

I am interested in the information that is lost as scientists proceed from experiment to publication. The real factors that slip through the cracks of expediency. What is more important in the communication of research, the method, or the factoid results that come from it? Are we too trusting in the scientific method? Has peer-review become a substitute for a wider interrogation of method?

These are just a few questions going through my mind as I read "Simplification in Scientific Work: An Example from Neuroscience Research" - a 1983 article by the late Susan Leigh Star. I was particularly struck by an early observation in the article that "published scientific conclusions tend to present results as faits acomplis, without mention of production of decision-making processes." I am not sure that this is so true today, but I am intrigued by the possibility that it is exactly that loss of information (as research is presented with a higher degree of 'granualrity') that opens a door for skepticism in the wider community. When a large body of research by multiple scientific schools tends to agree on a matter, there is sometimes an impression given that they are all doing exactly the same experiments. Whilst the broad methods are the same, of course expedient decisions are made and this causes subtle differences. These are not always thoroughly explained, even if they are justified. I can't help but think that something in this is relevant to the skeptical program in climate change. Is this what lets in the calls of "conspiracy"?

More to read, more to do. I have a few other things on my plate, but this is an intriguing line of research.

Scientist at heart

When you think of a scientist, you probably imagine a person dressed in a white lab coat, wearing thick glasses and adorned with white, straggly hair. Perhaps you think of Albert Einstein. The reality is quite different; scientists, overall, do not conform to this stereotype. They do not have a particular uniform, and they do not wear a badge. What makes someone a scientist?

The answer is in the way they think. They employ “the scientific method”. But what is the scientific method? The concept really boils down to a way of formulating ideas and testing them; a way of explaining the world through systematic observation and hypothesis testing. In short, a way of telling reality from fantasy.

You start with a question about the world around you. This may have come from your observations. You come up with a statement about this question, and this is known as a hypothesis. You predict what you would see if your hypothesis were correct. From there, you design and conduct an experiment to see if these predictions hold true. You then interpret the results to see if they support or disagree with your hypothesis. Finally, you report your experiment in full and submit it to review by other scientists.

The thing is, you can only support your hypothesis, not prove it. There may have been errors in your method. You may have got lucky even. However, because people can read your methods, they can repeat the experiment. Repeated success means the results are reliable.

Over time, more support may be collected, and your hypothesis might be accepted as a correct theory. That gravity makes objects of mass attracted to each other (like Newton’s proverbial apple falling to the earth) is one such theory, supported by mountains of scientific evidence.

Evidence is what it is about. That is at the core of the thinking. Theories need to be testable. Interpretation alone is not enough. Ideas and theories are not enough. Skeptical thinking doesn’t cover it. To be truly scientific you must imagine what a theory predicts, ask what evidence for that might look like, and then demand evidence that experiments actually do show it.

At the core of the scientific thinker is a rational process to discover the likely truth of the matter, supported by evidence. That is what makes a scientist, a scientist.

We can all do this, we just need to ask questions, and to think about how we might answer them in a reliable way. Do this, and the climate of uncertainty can be lifted on a great many issues. We can all be scientists at heart.

A communications journey begins

Blogging was, until very recently, a highly self-indulgent exercise in hoping someone is listening. To be frank, I was doing it to practice my writing skills and see if I can elucidate the odd scientific or other concept well. Given that hardly anyone has read this blog, I’m uncertain as to the success of that idea!

However, enter August 2010 and I am enrolled in a Science Communication masters degree at the University of Western Australia. In one unit, I will have to do blog entries. So, my time has come for judgement. The number of readers of my work is to double, or triple (you can’t actually divide by zero, so I’ll just count myself as a reader of my own work). Lecturers, tutors and classmates will read me! I will rule the world. No, class is in fact likely where it will end. Nonetheless, I now have purpose. Whilst the unit only demands a couple of blog entries, I will attempt to throw up a few more here and track progress through the course.

A science communication course is a little bit of an enigma to me still. I am doing it because I am interested in doing it. I would also like a related career in it one day, but realistically, I don’t think such jobs exist. At least not readily and this contrasts with my ‘native’ qualifications in geology. Perhaps here I should state my ‘hopes and dreams’ along these lines. Say with a 10 year timeline. That’s not too ambitious or overly forward-looking is it?  Therefore, I humbly ask that within 10 years I have written a book on sciencey stuff and contribute regularly to some paid media, be that print or radio (perhaps). Oh and make millions of dollars. That is all.

A fast paced, throwaway society

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Originally uploaded by MK20D

We live in a world of signs. A life surrounded by instructions and rules with which we must comply. Sometimes we struggle to know whether to stop, go, reduce speed or keep left. Sometimes we are asked to do several of these things at once. Occasionally, we are struck with a sense of control, that we are being led down a path in life that is not fully chosen. At other times, we realise that we choose paths in response to an external, carefully built up set of social norms that make us behave in acceptable ways. Old items make way for the new, despite both having the same basic function. Our worldview colours our choices, highlights the important things. We act, we deny, we reach terrible states of cognitive dissonance, we choose. At all times we move from one moment to the next, one upgrade to another, never stopping, living our lives in the moment, one eye on the future, beholden to the past.

The majesty of nature

There I was, driving at a regulation (according to site rules) pace from the old Onslow town site past the causeway, when I came across a flock of brolgas, Grus rubicunda. These birds are famous for their mating dances and yet, here, like a herd of cattle, were about 30 of them slowly making their way through the spinifex. They were not so much fazed by my car; rather, when I excitedly leapt out, camera with long lens in my hand, they were definitely startled by my high visibility clothing (another site requirement). I noticed then that it was not all of them. Some were on watch, others grazing. So I got back in the car and drove closer. They really are like grazing bovines! Mooching along the flats, picking out the finest morsels. Through the passenger window I aimed camera again. So unmoved by my presence, their heads hardly left the pasture. Frustrated with the focus of the lens, then frustrated with my subject, I sounded the car's horn. There, a response! Several heads bobbed up in alarm, and those heads were in unison in needing to know the source.

I was in a car. A 20^th century invention for humans. A mode of transport so foreign to a brolga that I might have been from outer space. So it was that it struck me that I was inconspicuous in the vehicle because it was a vehicle. A bright yellow-shirted human at least looks like it could be a threat. Not a white box moving along the ground. When the box made a sound however, it catapulted into their consciousness. What a wonderful thing to observe – the contrast that we humans have created in the landscape through our dizzying technological advance. Photos taken, I moved on, smiling, having just witnessed a little slice of natural bird behaviour. My encounter with a 'herd' of brolga had lifted my day. I think it had made theirs interesting for a moment too, who knows?  

Grus rubicunda, not dancing!

A landscape in wait

North western Australia. A marsh landscape. A place to be filled and developed. It is hard to describe the feelings I had here. Best put, I felt a sense of impending loss. A creek flows through the marshes and the fish and kangaroos go about their business. The hum of nature is barely perceptable. One day, this will be filled with sand and a giant industrial facility will take it's place. It will never look like this again. Progress, progress, progress. Unavoidable. How then to reconcile what's lost? I am still to decide.




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