Rerouting the River of Science
Science seems to progress incrementally, with major paradigm shifts occurring somewhat regularly throughout human history. Infectious disease is originally understood as miasma, the spirits of death that linger upon decaying matter. Later germ and cell theories explain how these diseases are caused by physical structures called bacteria or virions, exchanged between infected hosts. The irony of the progress is that often earlier, superseded, theories packed remarkable merits.
In actuality, new theories incorporate the best parts of old theories. In the case of infectious disease, it was originally understood that there was some agent of contagion. True, it was initially deemed a supernatural agent, but regardless, some variety of contagion was implicit in the miasma notions of Aristotle. The present-day simplification that pathogen causes pathology, falls short in some ways as well. For instance, the present COVID-19 pandemic has brought attention to the role of immune and general systemic health in the progression and outcome of infectious disease. Ironically, the degree of sophisticated interconnection apparent in such etiology frames biology as so complex as to border on the supernatural.
Similarly, we can look at the progression in understanding of how planets orbit stars. We often hear about the Ptolemaic model where the Earth was the stationary center of existence, and all planets and heavenly bodies orbited her. Of course we now understand that this conception is off base, and that we exist within a solar system, which itself orbits a galactic center, and that even galactic motion is too anchored in larger structures. And yet, in a very real sense, at present we do understand our inertial frame primary in all matters concerning our every-day existence here on Earth.
Yes, the Ptolemaic system went through absurd remodeling efforts to save its notorious claim that the Universe orbits the Earth. Progress was incremental, and though the Earth was understood to orbit the sun it was falsely presumed the center of the Universe. What is incredible about the original geocentric academic notion, is that it captures the notion of orbits. Who is orbiting who has been through countless updates, but the basic premise remains true to the ancient conception: heavenly bodies clump into patterned systems of motion reflective of connectivity. Bodies corkscrew through the cosmos, bound through yet invisible mechanics into myriad elliptical paths around one another.
Tactically shifting a paradigm
There seems to be two ways to update a subject in science. One is by attacking the status quo viciously, in order to defeat popular theory through ridicule. Galileo exemplified this tactic in promoting the heliocentric model of the heavens as a replacement for geocentricity. His book, “Dialogue Concerning Two Chief World Systems,” utilized a foolish character named Simplicus as a shill for the opposition. This foolish character turned out to embody the ideas of the then pope Urban VIII, who did not take the derision lightly. Galileo was promptly summoned to Rome and sentenced severely by the Vatican court. He spent the rest of his life under strict house arrest and was even forbidden from writing.
Galileo’s attempt at paradigm shift, although ultimately valid and vindicated, does not seem the most effective manner of achieving his desired outcome. Consider that a few decades earlier, Nicolaus Copernicus developed the same heliocentric model, stemming from personal astronomical observations. He prepared his ideas into a document, which he guarded carefully and shared with only the most trusted of his friends and close associates.
Indeed, despite urging by those closest to the venerable scientist throughout his lifetime, Copernicus refused to widely promote his revelations directly, and instead chose to focus on refining the model and manuscript for several decades until the year of his death in 1543. Eventually, already-established opposition to the Catholic dominion took on the responsibility for publishing Copernicus’ work. A Lutheran theologian added a preface in explicit defense of the heretical subtext.
For his cautious approach to the paradigm shift, Copernicus lived prosperously and his ideas were continually championed by visible public figures. Throughout his career, Copernicus busied himself with civil and scientific roles beyond astronomy including: physician, translator, governor, diplomat, and economist. Galileo, on the other hand, despite numerous contributions to astronomy, earned the singular reputation of a firebrand. His crass styling cost him dearly: The church banned the entirety of his work for a century. It took another 50 years beyond that for a partially censored version of his notorious book to surface.
Copernicus’ quiet insistence on the new paradigm seems almost Gandhian in its non-violent approach. And perhaps we can learn a thing or two about how to effectively promote new science from the Indian teacher that helped a nation reclaim its independence. For example, new ideas need be developed with reverence for the past. No physical body, including a scientist, exists in absolute isolation. We each depend on an unimaginably long chain of thinkers and predecessors stretching out behind us as we set to preparing new postulates. We also depend on our patrons for support, and like it or not, the church in Galileo’s day was in many ways responsible for the civil peacedom that enabled his academic lifestyle. In some sense Galileo’s plight seems a bit like the anti-establishment YouTubers that depend on the very same establishment technology for their prosperity.
Science is a journey with no actual end. We are concerned with providing natural explanations for phenomena that are persistently out of reach. Because the events we are concerned with explaining are lodged deep in the past, or deep in outer space, or far below the capabilities of our observational instruments, these explanations necessarily evolve with our species’ ever-expanding access to information. As we advance new paradigms, we have to learn to develop new means of introducing and discussing them as exquisite as the ideas themselves. After all, with so many roads leading to the same beautiful city, why not take the one that accomplishes the greatest good along the way?
