Arts And Science

“[Nobel Prize winner Joshua] Lederberg lets us know that in this sea of democratic relativism natural science stands out like Gibraltar. All the rest is a matter of taste.” Allan Bloom in “The Closing of the American Mind,” Simon and Schuster, 1987.

It doesn't seem to matter what the subject is, there's no debating the almost universally held view that the best way to the proper conclusion – the way to learn what is most important about some particular subject – is by the use of scientific principles; the path to Truth is via Science. (See also essay named “Emphasis” on September 23.)

As a people we have discovered the value of this approach, and we view with approval governmental actions that preferentially support education of mathematics and science over the needs of other disciplines. And sports and nutrition programs, shown scientifically to benefit us all, have also been assisted politically. Our goal is “a sound mind in a sound body.” It became obvious, moreover, that the only way that our country could stay ahead of the rest of the world, or at least keep up, was by maintaining a superiority in scientific achievements. If this meant some loss to the “Arts,” so be it. The superiority of science, and our need for its blessings, dictated an emphasis on it. The important questions will only be answered through science and mathematics. For example, “Multivariate modeling of uncharacteristic harmonics using archimedean copulas,” which was published in 2010 in “Probabilistic Methods Applied to Power Systems,” discusses harmonics, a discovery of the third century BCE scientist, Archimedes.

I won't bore you with any mathematical details, but it must be noted, as is clear from the title, that the fine points of harmonics, one of the primary features of music, were initially demonstrated by a scientist. It is also of interest that much of “modern” music has been described as mathematical. I don't know if that's meant as a compliment or an insult, but it's apparent that the distinctions between art and science are not always clear. Sometimes art and science overlap. A beautiful sunset may move a physicist who can explain its technological aspects, but not its effect on him. Although these examples don't prove the point, however, I doubt that we are placing the emphasis where it belongs when we laud the superiority of natural science. And that's what we do.

When I was in medical school I was told (by a non-surgeon of course) that you could teach a monkey to operate. What was critical, however, was an understanding of why he would do so. What is also bandied about by scientists is that another monkey, with the help of other members of his species and an adequate amount of time, could write the works of Shakespeare. It was all a matter of chance and probability. It's a clever rhetorical point, but that's all it is. The statistical likelihood of that happening must be less than of another Universe coming into existence through scientific principles. It's nil. And even if it were possible, the monkeys would lack any understanding of what they were doing. They would just be doing. It would be a mechanical exercise which, even if it succeeded, would have no meaning.

Though not as well paid, scientists are a lot like plumbers or electricians. And in a way they're like the operating monkey. Their goal is to do – not really to understand anything beyond their craft. It my be to extend our knowledge of the Universe in which we live, and it may require a great deal of intelligence and effort, but in many ways it is also a mechanical exercise. It is not my wish to denigrate science, but the questions that scientists address are “what” and “how.” At least journalists add “who,” “when,” and “where” to the list to more fully describe their subjects of interest.

But those questions, important as they may be, have no fundamental meaning if we don't know “why.” And that is the realm of the Arts and the Humanities rather than the Sciences. And the domain of religion. Science doesn't deal in values. (In that way it's valueless.) Astrophysicists may be able to tell me when the sun will burn out, but – and it doesn't embarrass me to say so – I don't care. In all likelihood I won't be around to see it.

But I'm here now. And I don't know why. And there are others around. Who they are (philosophically), how I understand them, and how I interact with them are of far greater concern to me than what some mathematical formula or scientific theory will disclose. And those others. How they interact with their fellows could have a far greater impact on the lives of my children and grandchildren than any scientific hypothesis. I'm far more fearful of a modern military conflict than of a future astronomical cataclysm.

There is no foolproof solution to the problem. There are too many fools and scoundrels around. And there are too many whose knowledge doesn't extend beyond their own needs. But it is reasonable to assume that the more fully that people have been educated to the way others think, to their values, and to the conditions that make life “livable,” the fewer and the less violent our future conflicts will be. And that is the purview of the humanities and the arts. “Music hath charms …” but first we have to hear and understand the music.

We must, in addition, understand each other. And ourselves, for without insight we lack any form of sight, and are unable to appreciate the needs of everyone else. We need to learn what science cannot tell us – what it cannot measure. History, literature, art, and all those other “irrelevant” disciplines reflect wisdom, and they are far more important in the long run – and, even more so, in the short-run – than mathematics and science. That is what we should emphasize in the education we provide for our young. “Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life.” – Immanuel Kant. “Choose life.” – Deuteronomy, 30:19.

If there must be scientists then, and if they require projects to occupy their minds, we would all benefit if they would turn their attention to determining why some people don't respond to the arts and the humanities, and to find a cure for this affliction. Gibraltar's flowers are of greater significance than its rock. And “democratic relevance” must give way to human understanding.

Next episode: “Words Fail Us” – And vice versa.