Truth in the natural sciences
This blog has been adapted from a lecture given at Whitelands College on 7 March 2018.
“What is truth?” has been a vital question throughout human history, at least from Plato to the present day. In the fourth century Augustine of Hippo described humanity as “the community of truth” (1).
Much later, Francis Bacon, the philosopher/politician who lived in the late 16th and early 17th centuries, and is regarded as one of the founding fathers of modern science, wrote:
“The enquiry of truth, which is the lovemaking or wooing of it; the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it; and the belief in truth, which is the enjoying of it – is the sovereign good of human nature” (2).
Such ideas are even more vital now in our era of post-truth and fake news. The former master of the Dominican order, Timothy Radcliffe, has said that if humanity gives up on the idea of truth it begins to disintegrate – and perhaps we are seeing something of that happening now in our so-called, ‘post truth’ era (3).
But how does truth in the natural science relate to other disciplines especially theology and philosophy?
My focus today is on the question of truth in the natural sciences. During a 2012 sabbatical it became obvious to me that there is a very powerful prevailing caricature of conflict between science and religion, despite academic literature which tells a very different story. The vital task was to get this more informed and nuanced approach into our churches, the education system and wider society.
Since that time I have been privileged to help in leading, alongside Professors David Wilkinson and Tom McLeish, a major national project, Equipping Christian leaders in an age of science, which is based at Durham University and directed by the Revd Dr Kathryn Prichard (6). The thinking behind this project explains why the conflict caricature of the relationship between science and religion is less interesting and truthful than an alternative approach.
There is plenty of evidence to show how widespread the conflict narrative is. Prof Jim Al-Khalili, Prof of physics at the University of Surrey and president of the British Humanist Association has said:
“The difference between my beliefs and having a religious faith is that I am prepared to change my views in the light of new evidence” (7).
Many people when asked what comes to mind in terms of the relationship between science and religion will come up with examples portrayed as straight conflicts. The Galileo engagement with the Inquisition, Thomas Huxley’s debate in 1860 with the Bishop of Oxford over evolution, or more recently the new atheist writings of authors such as Richard Dawkins (9). This is despite considerable scholarly work which portrays these episodes in a far more nuanced manner.
In our modern 21st-century context, it is often assumed that scientific method is the only way of discovering true and reliable knowledge about reality. In his book, “Science as truth”, Professor Peter Atkins wrote:
“There can be no denying the proposition that science is the best procedure yet discovered for exposing fundamental truths about the world . . . it has shown itself to be of enormous power for the elucidation and control of nature. There would appear to be no bounds for its competence: it can comment on the origin of the end of the world, on the emergence, evolution and activities of life, and it can even presumably account of the activities and beliefs of sociologists. This claim of universal competence may seem arrogant, but it appears to be justified. No other mode of discovery has proved to be so effective, or to contribute so much towards the achievement of the aspirations of humanity” (10).
Recent research by Professor Berry Billingsley of Christchurch Canterbury University has suggested that students often emerge from their school science education with an uncritical approach to the conflict narrative between science and religion, and also with an attitude of “scientism” – i.e. believing that science answers all the real questions and gives proper knowledge and everything else is private opinion (11).
As the caricature model of conflict between science and religion is alive, well and pervasive, we really do need to take a closer look at the nature of truth in science, and how this might relate to theological discourse. To do this we need to begin by asking two questions:
How does science work?
Why does science work?
Modern scientific method places great emphasis on empiricism and reason. Empiricism is what we learn via our senses and experience; reason is what we then logically deduce from such learning about the nature of “what is”.
This involves a constant cycle of observation, research, hypothesis- forming, experimental testing of the hypothesis, and a concluding theory, which is always only provisional until it has to be refined in the light of the next piece of evidence. So it is a virtuous circle, constantly sharpening our knowledge and deepening our understanding of the true nature of reality.
Famously, in the scientific method there is very little room for teleology, the explanation of something in terms of the purpose it serves. If we are to ask a simple question, “Why is the kettle boiling?” a scientific answer will focus on the temperature of the water, the energy transfers, and the atmospheric pressure rather than on any individual person’s desire to have a cup of tea. Put crudely, science focuses on ‘how questions’ rather than ‘why questions’.
But does science really tell us all that we can know and give us every truth there is to be had? Is it really that simple?
Most scientists would describe themselves as critical realists. There is a real world beyond us, science is giving us an increasingly good understanding of the nature of that objective world.
However, all we have direct access to is our own sense experiences and sense data. We then start building theories and making assumptions. The ontological status of theoretical entities such as electrons, other fundamental particles, dark energy, the multiverse etc is, at best, provisional given the fact that scientific theories change over time.
Some philosophers of science go so far as to claim that scientific theories are simply giant calculating and predicting devices relating to our sense data - a position known as instrumentalism.
Others take a reductionist approach which argues that ultimately there is nothing but the material world and, for example, music is essentially composed of sound waves and our associated experience when those sound waves are translated into electrical signals in our brains. In this reductionist view the human experience of love is ultimately accountable via evolutionary psychology and neuroscience. Any further meaning which we give to it is simply a human construct of the mind.
We need a much richer narrative and understanding of reality. The subtitle of “Beyond Matter” by the philosopher Roger Trigg is, “Why science needs metaphysics” (12). Scientific naturalism defines reality as that which is within the grasp of scientific method, thereby proscribing both metaphysics and theology. It collapses ontology – the nature of being - into a particular epistemology, an approach which is in itself a metaphysical position beyond the remit of science.
Science is an extraordinarily powerful and effective way of exploring the universe. But its very method means that it can only tell us certain things about the nature of reality.
In his book, “The limits of science”, Peter Medawar asks what science can and, crucially, cannot tell us about reality (13).
There are some fundamental questions which we ask as human beings.
The ontological question, why is there anything at all – the mystery of being.
The epistemological question of what and how we can know – the mystery of knowing.
The ethical question of how we should live and what makes a good life – the mystery of living.
For a full account of reality we need multiple perspectives which include but also take us beyond the purely scientific approach. If we wish to know what it means to be human then, of course, we need the knowledge that comes from evolutionary psychology, neuroscience, biology, chemistry, physics, sociology, anthropology and all scientific disciplines.
But I would suggest we also need the insights which come from art, music and literature plus those from philosophy and theology. Such an approach was mooted in the 1950s by the mathematical physicist Professor Charles Coulson in his book, “Science and Christian belief” (14). The challenge then is to give an account of how these multiple perspectives engage with one another.
The project I help to lead, ‘Equipping Christian leaders in an age of science’ seeks to provide a context in which such conversations between different disciplines can occur in a creative way. Our experience has been that these are richly productive all round.
In the end, the question of truth and the nature of the ultimate reality is central to these conversations. Theology and science are both truth-seeking modes of discourse. As a teenager, I came to the conclusion that, in the end, you either have to be a thoroughgoing materialist or a theist of some kind.
The former view argues that ultimately there is only matter – stuff – elementary particles and energy – and human beings are rather complicated arrangements of this stuff. Any meaning that we choose to adopt is essentially a creation of the human imagination, so we really are whistling in the dark in a cold and meaningless universe.
A theistic approach suggests that such things as love, goodness, beauty, “being” itself, inheres in God, who is not simply an overlarge entity hanging around in some corner of the universe, but rather the source of all being and truth.
Science undoubtedly gives us vital knowledge about the nature of reality. It leads us closer and closer to a true understanding of the cosmos. But its very method means it does not answer every meaningful question about reality.
For a richer conversation we need dialogue with other disciplines – the very thing that should be happening in a university. Harvard has as its motto the single word “Veritas” – truth – as its motto. The vision statement of the University of Roehampton says, “We are engaged in the pursuit of truth through reason, research and debate, based on freedom of thought and expression”. This pursuit of truth is vital not only in science, but in every sphere.
References and notes
Augustine of Hippo; quoted in Radcliffe, Timothy. (2006) What is the point of being a Christian? London; New York: Burns and Oates. p.6.
Bacon, Francis. (1625) Essays: Of Truth. R
Radcliffe, T: op cit.
Cheetham, Richard. (1999) The nature and status of religious belief in contemporary Britain (with particular reference to the concept of truth) as reflected by acts of collective worship in a sample of Luton Schools since the 1988 Education Reform Act. PhD thesis, King’s College London.
Cheetham, Richard. (2015) Whatever happened to truth? Inaugural professorial lecture for the University of Roehampton, 4 November 2015.
http://community.dur.ac.uk/christianleadership.science/
Al-Khalili, Jim; quoted in Peck, Tom (2012) Jim Al-Khalili: I’m a cuddly atheist. I don’t need to tell my mum her faith is stupid”. The Independent, 23 December 2012.
Brown, Dan. (2017) Origin. London: Penguin. p.83.
Dawkins, Richard. (2006) The God Delusion. London: Bantam Press.
Atkins, Peter. (1995) Science as Truth. Durham: Sage.
Billingsley, Berry. (2017) Teaching and learning about epistemic insight. School Science Review (365). pp.59-64.
Trigg, Roger. (2017) Beyond Matter – Why Science needs Metaphysics. West Conshohocken: Templeton Press.
Medawar, Peter. (1985) The Limits of Science. Oxford: OUP.
Coulson, Charles. (1955) Science and Christian Belief. Oxford: OUP.
