Have you ever seen an atom?
We know what atoms might look like, if we were able to see them. Look it up in
a physics textbook or in an encyclopedia. You'll find drawings that
illustrate atoms as consisting of a nucleus (a 'lump' of protons and neutrons)
that is orbited by electrons, the whole system held together by the attraction
of the particles. The diagrams are quite detailed, and the texts explain how
the whole system works. There will probably be an explanation on the natural
laws that control the behavior of the sub-atomic particles that make up the
atom. We know much about it, and our knowledge about the atom and its
components is still expanding.
Yet nobody has ever seen an atom. With the aid of a Scanning Tunneling
Microscope (STM) we have been able to determine the position of the
atoms in a piece of material, but we have never been able to see the atom
itself. However, that has not kept us from finding out the details about the
construction of atoms.
The above illustrates nicely how we may rely on other means than direct
observation to find out more about an aspect of the universe. Where observation
in itself is no longer sufficient, thought comes in, to provide further
information by means of reasoning and deduction.
This process can be long and tedious, and requires knowledge about all the
factors involved. It's not just a matter of wondering how things work and then
having a flash of insight.
Typically, scientists start with knowledge derived from the work of others.
The sum of this knowledge is part of the basis of science, and because this
knowledge constantly increases, science advances continuously.
When a phenomenon is observed, it is tested against the theoretical knowledge
that we may have on that phenomenon. If it does not behave as expected, we
conclude that our knowledge is incomplete, and we try to expand it so that it
includes the newly discovered anomaly.
"Why does it behave the way it does?" we ask ourself. "What could possibly cause this?" We observe the effects, to the best of our abilities, and we collect all the data available. We toss in everything that is known in that area of science, and then we sit down and think. What could possibly explain this phenomenon?
"The most exciting phrase to hear in science, the one that heralds new discoveries, is not 'Eureka!' (I found it!) but 'That's funny...'"
-- Isaac Asimov
We are confronted with things that we don't understand. And then something happens. Someone has an idea. "Perhaps it is because..." somebody says, and a hypothesis is born. This may happen in a sudden flash of insight, or after decades of fruitless research, discussion and frustration.
The following step is to test the hypothesis. If it is correct, then it
should accurately describe all the aspects of the phenomenon that it tries to
explain. If that is indeed the case, the hypothesis is said to "hold
water". If it proves to be inaccurate, however, it is discarded and the
whole process is repeated.
If the hypothesis holds water, it is then put into more formal terms. We
call it a theory, and more testing follows to see whether or not it is accurate.
After a theory is formulated and experiments seem to prove that it is correct,
it is usually published. Then others try to reproduce the initial experiments
and create other experiments to test the new theory more fully. This ensures
that the result of the experiments involved are not dependent upon the
expectations of a single observer, so that the testing of theories becomes an
objective process.
Until new data proves the theory to be incorrect, we assume that it
accurately describes reality.
A good example of this process is the Theory of General Relativity.
Observations had shown that the orbit of Mercury did not match the predictions
that were based on the laws of Newton and Kepler. Then Einstein came up with
the idea that space is curved by the presence of mass. This explained the
distortion of the orbit of Mercury, since the mass of the sun is sufficiently
large to warp space, so that it distorts a planetary orbit.
More observations followed, and so far they have matched the predictions based
on the work of Einstein. The Theory of General Relativity is now accepted as
accurate, and it will keep that status until new observations prove it to be
incorrect or incomplete.
The process mentioned above is known as the scientific method, and in a nutshell it may be described as follows:
This is one of the ways in which the mind can supplement the function of
the senses. Though we may be unable to observe an aspect of the universe
directly, we may deduce its existence and its properties by observing the
effect that it has on those phenomena that we can observe.
In other words: by explaining the observed aspect of the universe, we go one
step beyond that of mere observation, and we gain knowledge about something
that we have not observed directly. This is the whole point: we gain
information from sources other than direct observation.
Use of the scientific method ensures that this information is accurate, and not
influenced by the subjective points of view of a single researcher or the
use of inaccurate instruments.
Let's have another look at the example of General Relativity. How did Einstein arrive at the idea that space may be curved? Surely he did not observe it. Mathematics played a large role in his work, but how did he come to apply mathematics the way he did? When asked, Einstein could never quite explain this. To him it was clear that it was so, and he did not think of himself as a genius because of that insight.
Why are some people great scientists while others just muck around in a lab without any significant results? Why are some people chess masters while others just know and apply the rules of the game? Why do some people create brilliant theories while others are just competent, go by the book and reproduce? What, in short, is it that makes creativity tick?
Because that's what it is: a creative process. It cannot be controlled, it
cannot perform on demand. You cannot simply say: "Today I will be
brilliant." Some have creativity, others don't, and we don't know
a general rule that describes its behavior.
In fact, the birth of an idea is a subjective experience. It happens solely in
the mind of the person who happens to be pondering the problem.
To simplify, the process that leads to understanding an aspect of the
universe may roughly be divided into three steps: making observations, coming
up with ideas about the underlying causes, and verifying those ideas with more
observations.
Steps 1 and 3 require work. Accurate, precise, dedicated work, but it can be
done by any competent, properly instructed lab assistant who takes the job
seriously.
Step 2 is something else entirely. To many 'hard' scientists, intuition is a
bit of a dirty word, because it somehow implies something inexplicable. But we
might as well admit it: we don't know how we arrive at certain ideas. We have
words to describe the phenomenon; we call it a hunch, gut feeling, intuition,
knowing from experience, inspiration, or whatever. But we don't know
what causes it, and we can't control it.
By applying the scientific method, we ensure that the knowledge which comes
from it is accurate, as we should. But the fact remains that we are tapping a
source of unknown origin here. And we all take it for
granted.
Questions about the origin of thought, about the origin of intuition or about creativity often lead into the realms of philosophy, if not existentialism. What makes the human mind work? Where does sentience come from? What is the 'I' that seems to live three or four inches behind my forehead and thinks it is me? And how are we ever going to apply the scientific method to answer these questions?
To put it bluntly, the scientific method is nothing more than a tool for verification. It ensures that our ideas are correct, and consistent with all observations, but nothing more. It does not provide insights or information by itself, and it does not aid us in formulating a hypothesis.
Verification depends largely upon experiment and observation. This points
out the one limitation of the scientific method: if we are unable to control a
phenomenon, if we lack the means to do the proper observations, then we are
unable to develop an idea into a 'scientifically sound' theory.
In modern science, the 'scientifically correct' approach in that case is
usually to reject the idea. As long as we can't prove that the idea is correct,
it must be assumed to be incorrect. But that approach ignores the fact that
the scientific method cannot be used to answer all questions.
I'm here. I think, therefore I am. Science can tell me much about myself,
how my body works and how it is born, lives, and dies. But the scientific
method can not be used to answer that most intriguing of questions:
WHY? Why am I here? What am I? Where is 'here'?
Science has never really dared to tackle these subjects. The questions are
labeled 'existentialism' or 'philosophy', and are 'appropriately filed'.
Yet we are here, and we ask ourselves why. We look at ourselves, and we say
"That's funny..." And then something happens. Someone has an
idea.
We may be unable to test the idea. But it comes from that same, unknown source
that we have tapped before, and take for granted. We'd be stupid to discard it
just like that. It deserves more thought, at the very least.