From the previous post, at just a nick over a thousand words the longest I've ever written on this blog, you were able to tell that I was less impressed by the BBC documentary “Science and Islam” than I wish I would have. But I loved it for the frequent sagacious observations about the philosophy of science and walked away with a refined understanding of the nature of a scientist.
I am engaged in the daily business of science, a business that is, for the most part, much less enviable and exciting than presented on a TV documentary. It can be outright dull. Scientists labor towards solving problems, and much more time is spent laboring than actually solving anything. While the answer is surely the goal, struggle is the way. The very special moments of sweet success are separated by seemingly endless periods of grinding effort, generously sprinkled by set-backs and failures.
To keep one's optimism, to stay sharp in the profession, to remain productive and become successful, one has to learn to love effort and see the significance of the small steps on the way. What is frequently painful and discouraging, draining energy and sinking spirits, must be embraced because it embodies science. The saying that the journey is the destination is nowhere more appropriate than in science where there is no end. Every small experiment yields observations that lead to insights, sometimes influential, sometimes subtle. Sometimes the relevance of these insights is thoroughly ignored at first and only appreciated later. But the ground is broken and the journey can continue.
Many of the insights of the Muslim scholars, especially in the field of medicine, appear ridiculous to a modern audience – no matter how progressive they might have been in their time. Their particular results and successes mean nothing today. But what sounds nonsensical to us now was at some point a dramatic advance over older ideas. It provided following generations with either additional understanding to directly drive their research or questionable views to argue with and improve upon.
This line of thought applies not only to the past but to the present as well. A break-through discovery made today, one that advances the state of the art and overthrows decades of foolishness, deserves a prominent place in the history books, but only until someone else comes along to overthrow what will by then be inaccurate or even obsolete.
The point of science is not to find the ultimate answer – though this could be a powerful motivator, I guess – but to take steps on the way. Every scientist knows that his contribution is only the stepping stone for those who come afterwards and will carry on, defining and resolving new, unanticipated challenges. The significance of this is sometimes hard to appreciate.
I believe that for science to work, the most important characteristic its practitioners must possess is the capacity of doubt. Without a doubtful eye on past accomplishments and on one's own current work, progress cannot be achieved. Blind faith in established truths is a roadblock to scientific advances. Fundamental facts, no matter what celebrated text tries to immortalize them, are only valid until they are overturned. Nothing is absolute.
It is exceedingly rare that the original description of a break-through theory goes essentially unchallenged over years, let alone decades or centuries. One theory that comes to my mind is Charles Darwin's, which has stood unwavering for 150 years now. Almost all the ideas in his book “On the Origin of Species” would be written in much the same way today as they were a century and a half ago, merely appended by findings made since but not substantially modified and certainly not contradicted.
Yet for all the glory later bestowed on his accomplishments, Charles Darwin's early life was unremarkable. He observed the world around him and tried to answer questions that puzzled him. He spent decades making sense of his observations and refining his answers. He banged his head against walls of bewilderment and discarded ideas that turned out not to make sense. He pursued relentlessly what he was passionate without ever getting trapped in doctrine. He never took old wisdom for granted. That's how a scientist should be.
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