Beethoven...plumbic poisoning?

Fascinating story about Beethoven, a fellow named Ferdinand Hiller, and 582 strands of Beethoven's head hair purloined the day after Beethoven died known as the "Guevara Lock", and the Argonne National Laboratory. The event took place in 1827...the hair was given to Paul Hiller [Ferdinand Hiller' son] on his birthday in 1883...wound up in the possession of Danish Dr. Kay Alexander Fremming [for his assistance in helping fleeing Jews from Nazi Germany]...sold in 1994 at Sotheby [London] to four members of the American Beethoven Society [Ira F. Brilliant, Caroline Crummey, Alfredo Guevara, and Thomas Wendel]...donated to the Ira F. Brilliant Center for Beethoven Studies [minus 160 strands retained by Alfredo Guevara]...Dr. William J. Walsh from the Health Research Institute and Pfeiffer Treatment Center announced DNA analysis from the "Guevara Lock" lock samples...nonfiction book by Martin, Russell released worldwide. That's most of the story in thumbnail form, but what does that have to do with the Argonne National Laboratory. It was stipulated from the DNA analysis that Beethoven most likely was a victim of plumbism--lead poisoning and was a direct accumulated precipitating factor for Beethoven's illness and demise. In 2000 at the Argonne National Laboratory a hair sample was subjected to Advanced Photon Source [APS] X-ray emissions and confirmed that there was substantial lead content; that the sample contained 60ppm of lead--100 times more than normal human concentrations.


Beethoven's Hair : An Extraordinary Historical Odyssey and a Scientific Mystery Solved

by

Martin, Russell

ISBN: 0767903501

Technology and Dependency

The intricate relationship between technology [manifested in a variety of goods and services] and human dependency is one that eventually will be faced by all. The recent power grid failure in the northeastern section of the United States is a prime example of what can go wrong when a section of the infrastructure fails. The delivery system of electrical power is quite complex and involves shared systems and is subject to power demand, distribution methods, and soundness of the equipment. The ramifications of that event were financially enormous in addition to the human misery. Fortunately, the power was restored in a short time. But the loss of something as basic as power can be both economically and psychologically destructive. In the past five years the electrical power in my community was disrupted by an ice storm in late January and a F4 tornado in May. Mountain man personas were common. Strong desires to cook a hot meal, brew a pot of coffee, read after sunset were common. The January ice storm with short days, cold temperatures, accustomed amenities suspended--all began to effect people psychology. The point is that we take so many things for granted and all of the interrelationships between them. We do have a dependency on technology.

But further than that the technological dependency is carried right down to the personal level--the sustaining of ones existence. Take the health areas for example. A single instance of congenital bronchopulmonary dysphasia can be controlled by technology. Cardio defibrillators can be implanted. Antiarrhythmic drugs can be administered. We depend on the over-the-counter medications for symptomatic relief of many medical issues. The ethical issue is just how far one can sustain comfort, mobility, and cognition. Can we trust the technology to do what it is supposed to do and for how long. Is there a point when the technology should be discarded [for whatever reasons] and let nature take its course. One can't live forever but there is no need to suffer and live an existence of non-function. Extrapolation of such a situation provides a vision of a technologically dependent human with devices throughout the body and energized by foreign chemistry. By all means use chemistry and devices to sustain life and function as a human being.

Transportation is another critical area for we depend upon all of the mechanical/electrical/physical systems of a vehicle to function properly. We need the vehicle to get too and from work, entertainment, emergencies, etc. No vehicle will put a kink in the economic formula. Everyday functions are dependent on technology: Electricity, fresh water, refrigeration of foods, cooking of foods, books to read, computers to communicate, the coffee pot, ball point pens. The point is, it is a given that we must have technology, but have we become too dependent and do we have a international and personal backup plan whereby we can function for a time without technology.

Can we still write first class letters by candle light with a pencil?

Science and moral obligation

Science can and has given mankind many theories about ourselves and the universe. Is it possible that there are areas of research whereby it would be unethical to continue with research/analysis/conclusion(s)?

Agnieszka Lekka-Kowalik wrote:

It has been claimed that decisions concerning scientific research topics and the publication of research results are purely methodological, and that any moral considerations refer only to research methods and uses of acquired knowledge. The arguments advanced in favor of this view appeal to the moral neutrality of scientific knowledge and the intrinsic value of truth. I argue that neither is valid. Moreover, I show three cases where a scientist’s decision to begin research clearly bears moral relevance: (1) when starting an inquiry would create circumstances threatening some non-cognitive values; (2) when achieving a certain piece of knowledge would threaten the existence of the individual’s private sphere; and (3) when there are reasons to think that humankind is not prepared to accumulate some knowledge. These cases do not prove the existence of some intrinsically ‘morally forbidden topics,’ but show that the moral permissibility of any given inquiry is not a priori guaranteed but needs to be judged in the same way that its methodological soundness is judged. Judgments concerning research topics have both methodological and moral aspects and these two cannot be separated under the threat of distorting science. Making such judgments requires knowledge not only of scientific methodology, but also of its social and philosophical implications. Philosophy is necessary in order to do good science.

My search for an answer to the title question is restricted to science which is the main source of our knowledge about the world and to its moral dimension. In order to know anything in a scientific way one needs to investigate relevant themes with scientific means. Are there then topics which should not for moral reasons be investigated in science? Of course, not all topics are worth pursuing; and not all research methods and uses of gained results are morally acceptable. Is it, however, possible that in scientific practice there might arise situations in which scientists would be morally obliged to refrain from gaining a piece of knowledge, even if that piece were scientifically interested, no objection to methods raised, no prospect of misuse detected, and some considerable gain expected? The usual answer to this question is negative:

Science must be free to question and investigate any matter within the scope of its method and to hold and state whatever conclusions are reached on the basis of the evidence — or it will perish (Glass 1993, 50).

That is, freedom from any restrictions to choose research topics and to publish results is an absolute condition for the existence of science. A scientist’s decision to investigate this or that topic and to publish her conclusions is purely methodological. Moral considerations come only when methods or applications of results are deliberated.

I shall call this view into question. I claim that a scientist’s decision to investigate any research topic has both methodological and moral dimensions, although in some cases the latter comes more to the fore than in others. In this sense morality is a constitutive element of science, and not something impose on science from outside.

The above view is expressed in many different ways: that there is no scientific knowledge that we should not want to have for knowledge understood as truth is the goal and fulfillment of the highest human capacities (Gaerdenfors 1990); that sciences yield knowledge and knowledge as such — as contrasted with its application — cannot be good or evil (Bunge 1991); that honest scientific inquiry cannot be ethically wrong unless one believes that truth itself is wrong (Herrstein and Wilson 1985). Such claims are attempts to guarantee a priori moral neutrality (and moral permissibility) of scientists’ decisions concerning research topics on the basis of moral neutrality of scientific knowledge and of the intrinsic value of truth. Yet, these arguments do not work.

Taken literary, the statement that knowledge cannot be morally good or bad is trivially true if knowledge is considered as a set of propositions. We cannot predicate morality of propositions, just as we cannot predicate color of numbers. Moral neutrality of propositions is irrelevant to the issue of whether a scientist’s decision to investigate a certain topic is morally neutral as well.

The same holds for arguments appealing to the intrinsic value of truth. Let us agree that science yields truth which is intrinsically valuable. However, the nature of a goal does not justify the means of achieving it. The intrinsic value of truth seen as the goal of science does not justify scientific inquiry as the means of achieving that goal. A scientist’s decision to investigate a certain topic is a part of inquiry and not a part of knowledge, and so from the intrinsic value of knowledge and of truth moral acceptability of action leading to it does not follow. If a necessary link between an object’s intrinsic value and moral obligation to choose that object as our goal existed then it would be possible to guarantee a priori moral permissibility of any scientific inquiry. For we could never be morally forbidden to do what we are morally obliged to do. If we were morally obliged to achieve scientific knowledge in all cases then we would always be morally permitted to inquire with scientific means. Thus, we would not need to bother ourself with the question whether our decision to investigate this or that topic is morally acceptable. This would be secured a priori. A valid methodological justification of our decision would remain the only problem. Can we, however, accept the existence of such a link between the intrinsic value of knowledge and moral obligation always to achieve it? This seems to be doubtful.

Whether or not we are morally obliged to gain some knowledge seems to depend on circumstances. A medical specialist on neurophysiology is morally obliged to know many things relevant to his work in order to give his patients the best treatment; no such moral obligation arises for someone for whom knowledge of neurophysiology is a means of impressing friends. On the other hand experts in various contests are morally obliged not to search for knowledge concerning a person under evaluation for it is expected that such knowledge might distort their judgements. Obviously people’s current judgements are influenced by their previous knowledge on a given topic. Why should we otherwise introduce the institution of ‘a blind referee’? Of course, the contest public is free to inquire without moral anxiety into the competitor’s cv.

Is it possible to think of circumstances when a scientist’s decision to investigate a certain topics create moral uneasiness? At least three such cases might be indicated: when starting an inquiry would create circumstances threatening some non-cognitive highest values; when achieving a certain piece of knowledge would threaten the existence of the individual’s private sphere; when there are reasons to think that humankind is not prepared to accumulate some knowledge. Let us consider examples illustrating these cases, having in mind that real events in science are not so clear-cut or fall under more than one category of morally problematic research.

Suppose that a researcher suggests investigating jury deliberation. This seems to be a good object from a methodological point of view: the topic is interesting, morally unobjectionable methods are available and some practical profits are reasonably expected. Yet, as soon as we reflect on the nature of jury deliberation a problem arises: secrecy is its essential characteristic. When studying the reports which the jury-members give on their debates we are not sure whether we arrive at knowledge of jury deliberation or of the jury-members’s perception thereof. Yet, we have no cognitive access to jury deliberation itself unless we violate its secrecy. This is not a problem of hidden recording devices. Suppose that the jury-members in a certain case agreed to being observed. Observation as such is morally acceptable and the informed consent of our subjects is secured. However, the fact that the jury-members are observed may affect the very process of deliberation. That observers influence what is observed is not peculiar to jury deliberation. It seems to be a well-established psychological fact that the presence of a stranger changes behavior of a group and this poses methodological problems for sciences such as anthropology. Moreover, observing might not take place, but already the awareness of such a possibility influences the way people act. In most everyday cases we do not care about this fact. However, a jury is supposed to arrive at a just decision. If the very process of deliberation is affected by an observer’s presence, we have reasons to think that the decision will be affected as well. We are then not sure any more that this will be the same decision as it would be without the jury’s being observed. Thus, a scientist’s decision to start an inquiry — and not its methods and results — might threaten the execution of justice. It is a separate issue whether or when we are morally permitted to take a risk of sentencing an innocent person or acquitting a guilty one for the sake of cognitive profits. However, whatever decision a scientist makes it has not both methodological and moral aspects. For this is always a decision which states either: yes, I should go on with the inquiry in spite of the risk to justice; or: no, I must not go on because of that risk. The expressions ‘in spite of’ and ‘because of’ indicate that we need somehow to compare the values at stake — truth and justice — in order to solve the dilemma. Such an attempt is a moral issue, not methodological. On the other hand, the dilemma arises precisely because the methodological correctness of the suggested inquiry is recognized. Morality and methodology intertwine here.

Let us consider a second case. Suppose that a researcher investigates lying. It seems to be a well-established result that through measuring various factors (such as concentration of certain chemicals in our body) we can quite reliably ‘detect’ lies. It is conceivable that there are also some external indications of lying — a move of an eye or a twist of a nose. The imagined research results in a law-like relation between a certain reflex of the human body and a person’s lying. The methods were moral, informed consent of the subjects secured, abuses pre-vented. Would it not be practical to know this relation? Is it not a fascinating topic? It might well be. But there is also something deeply suspicious in the whole enterprise. Investigation into such a topic, if successful, would leave a person transparent in a certain respect. If I cannot control this reflex, the fact that I am lying will be revealed regardless of the reasons I have for my behavior and the consequences of exposing it. The same holds if science discovers relations between some visible uncontrollable gestures of the body and various states of mind such as loving, hating, being afraid, etc. To be sure, the intimate friend is usually able to recognize our lying, uneasiness, jealousy, etc. However, this capacity is a product of friendship — we accept mutual transparency as a part of the friendship. However, if science offers us means of ‘reading’ everybody’s minds then it forces us to know things which we do not necessarily want to know and to reveal things which we would rather conceal. In effect a significant part of our private sphere is destroyed. The more topics like that are successfully investigated the smaller does our human private sphere become. Many researchers point out that privacy is valuable as a basis of essential human relations. Would such scientific results in consequence threaten those relations?

We should not be misled by the term ‘means of reading one’s mind’ in this context for here knowledge is not ‘applied’ in any sense comparable to technical applications. Knowledge is here used in reasonings. That is we use one piece of knowledge to gain another; and it is easy to gain some knowledge about particulars once we have a scientifically established law-like relation. Knowing that all people twist their nose in a special way when lying we do not need any special inquiry to know when a particular person is lying. In a sense we cannot help knowing. The fact that the research on such transparency-forcing relations may be based on data which people freely confessed to scientists does not change the controversial character of such inquiries. The conclusion drawn from those data would apply to everyone. We willy-nilly obtain knowledge also about those who declined to reveal the relevant pieces of information.

Again, I do not insist that it is intrinsically wrong to choose such privacy-invading topics for research. My example does not render an argument for such a claim. It shows, however, that gaining knowledge, regardless of methods and of future application, has its consequences. We might try to liberate scientists from responsibility for application of scientific results but not from responsibility for gaining them; and the latter encompasses responsibility for consequences of gaining knowledge. Thus, when a scientist decides to realize a certain research project she implicitly makes twofold evaluation: methodological and moral. That is, she assumes that project is methodologically sound and expected consequences of gaining knowledge are morally acceptable. Again, morality and methodology intertwined in her decision.

A third case is even more complicated. Suppose that a scientist formulates an equation to calculate the day of one’s death unless an accident or a disease occurs. It is not a totally unthinkable situation, taking into account that we are biological beings subjected to natural laws. Would we be able to cope with such knowledge? Even if there are some advantages of knowing the date of one’s death, there are still strong doubts whether we should seek that knowledge. It is not the use which makes such knowledge problematic. What is questionable is the fact that people would have no control over this information. If a death-equation is scientifically formulated everybody is subjected to it. I may learn when I die regardless of whether I want to know or not; and every-body else may learn regardless of whether I want other people to know. I might not be able to help knowing this thing about myself and other people, also when I would rather not know.

Yet, it is still more than just a case of unwanted knowledge. We know from experience the knowledge of one’s dying puts a ‘shadow’ on life and the reaction to it varies individually. The decision to reveal or to conceal this information usually causes a lot of anxiety among the people dealing with a dying person. Rescher observes:

there may be some sorts of knowledge which people just cannot handle, destabilizing them to the point where the knowledge destroys or undermines their ability to function effectively. Here it would be imprudent for the individual to acquire this knowledge—and it could be immoral of another to inflict it upon him (Rescher 1987, 5)

If the death-equation is made a piece of scientific knowledge then there is no way of evaluating an individual’s capacity to handle the information. Moreover, we have also reasons to expect that such a piece of knowledge would change our thinking about life, not necessarily into a desirable direction. Thus, if Rescher is right then it might be immoral to inflict this piece of knowledge upon us; and if this piece becomes a part of science there is no way of avoiding being inflicted with it. Whether or not it is morally justified to impose such knowledge on people cannot be evaluated within methodology alone. Again, both methodology and morality are required in order to make a decision concerning such research topics.

One can try to argue that consequences of gaining knowledge do not matter for there is no piece of knowledge to which humanity does not eventually adapt itself (Gaerdenfors, 1989). However, this argument has a hidden Darwinian presupposition that adaptation goes always in a desirable direction. This does not need to be the case. We can genetically manipulate domestic animals in order to adapt them to small crowded cages, long journeys, etc. There would be many economic gains if we succeeded and, moreover, animals would suffer less. Yet, we seem to have moral doubts whether we should promote this kind of adaptation (Verhoog 1996). It might well be that humanity will adapt itself to any consequences of gaining knowledge on any topic but it does not follow that those adaptative changes are morally desirable.

Are there are topics which should not for moral reasons be investigated in science? I claim that this question does not have an a priori answer. The arguments trying to show that the nature of science guarantees moral permissibility of inquiry into any topic we like do not work. Moreover, we may indicate cases in which a decision to start research requires both moral and methodological justification, even if there are no objections to research method and applications of knowledge expected from that research. It may happen that in our scientific practice we never encounter ‘a forbidden topic’. Yet, each time we make a decision to start research the above question must be asked anew and answered with respect to a concrete project. This is the first thing which my philosophical analysis reveals about the nature of scientific enterprise. The second one is that there is no algorithm for answering the question concerning moral permissibility of starting a particular research project. Answering this question requires from individual scientists and scientific institutions passing judgements and accepting responsibility for that judgements. Aristotle observes that only those who possess relevant knowledge can make proper judgements in a certain domain. I argue that decisions concerning research topics have both methodological and moral aspect. Scientists usually have relevant knowledge of methodology. Yet, in order to make prudent decision they should possess the relevant knowledge of morality and the latter requires considerations concerning the nature of science, the place of knowledge among human values, relations between science and society and similar themes obviously of philosophical character. Thus, philosophy should educate and shape science which is to be value-conscious rather than value-free. As a matter of fact this is already taking place for various universities introduced research ethics as an organic part of scientific education. It remains to be considered what kind of philosophy is able to fulfil its educational role.

Bibliography:

Bunge M. ‘Basic Science is Innocent; Applied Science and Technology Can Be Guilty’ in: D.O.

Dahlstrom. Nature and Scientific Method. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press 1991. 95-105.

Gaerdenfors P. ‘Is There Anything We Should not Want to Know?’ in: J.E.

Fensted (ed.), Logic, Methodology and Philosophy of Science, New York:

Elsevier 1990. 63-78.

Glass, B. ‘The ethical basis of science’ in: Bulger, R.E. et al. (eds). The Ethical Dimension of the Biological Sciences. Cambridge University Press 1993. 43-55.

Herrnstein R. J. and Wilson J. Q, Crime and Human Nature, New York: Simon and Schuster 1985.

Rescher, N. ‘Forbidden Knowledge’ in: Forbidden Knowledge and Other Essays on the Philosophy of Cognition, Dordrecht: Reidel 1987. 1-16.

Verhoog, H. Genetic Modification of Animals. Should Science and Ethics Be Integrated? in: A. Lekka-Kowalik and D. Schulthess (Eds). Forbidden Knowledge. The Monist 79 (2) 1996.

Reverse engineering, the ethics of

I propose a very simple question that has no clear answer for it covers the ethics of proprietary ownership [whereby the inventor was responsible for creation, expenses of research and development, manufacture, and marketing], national security [that is may be justifiable to perform "reverse engineering"], and just good old individual "greed". I think this goes beyond what are commonly known as "knock offs" or mere copies. If you spent hundreds of thousands on your invention and someone took it apart to discover how it works or is constructed and remarketed the item, wouldn't you be upset?

Templeton Prize...good idea; bad idea?

For some time there has been an annual monetary award given to one outstanding individual that attempts to bridge the gap between religion and science--the Templeton Prize. Is this attempt in vain or a realistic endeavor? Frankly, I think it is a good idea for there is so much disparity and individual/group animosity between science and religion stimulating politics, multilevel government legislation, and downright hatred. I cannot help but to think, that a potential outcome of this endeavor, uniting science and religion, could lead to a moderation and unification of religion itself. To develop the notion that "religion" is a subset of personal spirituality is a positive thing I feel. Perhaps this could be a result. We can surely all recognize an urgent need for intra-religious tolerance and understanding. If it blends with Christianity it must blend with all other religions as well and as comfortably. There is just too much history of man entertaining a "variety of religions" based on many tenants of philosophy. economics, and sociology. Just look at the number of disciplines of "Christianity" [Baptists, Methodists, Christian Scientists, Catholics, Mormons, Shakers, etc.] or sects of the Muslim faith or of Judaism. Each have a different agenda and interpretations of their sacred texts. It would be a keen idea if the multiplicity of theologies were more categorical [where concepts were more universal and mutually agreed upon] and religion would loosen the reigns of sacraments and institutional doctrine. Maybe this chaos of religious diversity will only be changed via the introduction of something other than the intrusion and challenge of the objectivity of science--say, a global and immediate catastrophe that challenges mankind's existence: Something that would be far more serious than global warming, insidious bacterial/viral infections, or nuclear annihilation--like, external Earth threats. Nevertheless, the quest for religions to embrace science is still not a bad idea and maybe its time for religions to move towards a different perspective and release the chains of ignorance but yet maintain a certain quantity of universal mystery.

This is a curious situation for if you stand back and take in the whole view of what is transpiring, one wonders if the function of the Templeton Prize concept is a "carrot and stick" approach [offering stimulus via cash prizes and recognition] or an organization rewarding individuals who are simply involved in the natural unfolding of a silent and diligent effort to bridge the gaps between religion and science. I suppose time will reveal the answer. I don't believe this effort to merge [whatever the quantitative input would be] science and religion is fortuitous or without merit. Mankind's history is littered with examples of religious modifications by science. It is a maturation story of complexity and fine tuning. Look at the history of the changing of religion by the introduction of a new universe view in Galileo's era. Big names and events were clashing: Galileo, Copernicus, Ptolemy, Catholicism, and the Reformation movement. We are now in the deep waters formulating the definition of life with passionate perspectives. I have indicated elsewhere that it is the institutionalized religion that appears to be more threatened than the realm of science. I probably won't even be a memory when all of this is resolved...and it may never be resolved.

Not all like the Templeton Prize. Mark Friesel wrote in physicstoday.org:

"Does Religion Prize Mislead Scientists?"

February 2001

The Templeton Prize for Progress in Religion may have an undesirable consequence for science. The prize (with exceptions) goes to those who try to create commonality between religion and science, but it may also lead some scientists to compromise their integrity.

When scientists who never wrote a word about religion are suddenly writing books about "god particles" and the like, it indicates to me that the authors consider integrity to be a convenience, truth to be malleable, and both to be subservient to money. Why, then, should anyone trust their research?

The subjects of rigorous intellectual pursuit can be divided into three major categories: science, philosophy, and religion. Religion is based on belief in certain tenets: a god or gods with certain attributes, a priest or seer who can dictate the will of the deity, and perhaps a book of divine laws. Such beliefs do not preclude the use of logic by believers, and a rational investigation of the observable universe can be made based on these beliefs, as can attempts to address philosophical questions. However, if a conflict arises between religious beliefs and the rational implications of those beliefs, or between belief and observation, it is logic or observation that must be perceived as wrong. As an example, given what we know of human physiology, we understand that there is no virgin birth in humans because conception requires the joining of sperm and egg. Yet Christians believe in virgin birth and therefore, to the believer such an occurrence must be possible, scientific considerations notwithstanding. Questioning the belief is not permitted. In brief, a defining principle of religion is that its fundamental tenets are accepted by its followers to be true beyond question.

In philosophy, axioms and rules of logic are fundamental. These may vary depending on the specific topic being addressed and may be investigated using yet other rules and axioms. The subject of an investigation may be religion and the observable universe, but if a conflict occurs then all elements--the beliefs, the rules of logic, and the axioms--may be questioned, because only the use of a logical system is fundamental to philosophy.

Science is based on observation. And a logical structure is created to describe and unite observations. A defining principle of science is that any conflict between observation and logic or between observation and religious belief, is resolved in favor of repeated observations.

I do not mean to propose that we have evolved religion, science, and philosophy in quarantine from each other or from other intellectual activity--art, for example. Yet it appears that science cannot and does not address religious questions at all. The truth of religious belief, by definition lacking any fundamental connection with observation, cannot be meaningfully evaluated by scientific methods. Nor can the truth or reality of scientific principles be meaningfully evaluated by applying the tenets of a religion, based as the latter is on belief.

Within each category, questions may arise that cannot be adequately answered by referral to the category's basic tenets. An individual may perhaps resolve such questions to his own satisfaction by taking refuge in other tenets. However, if a scientist chooses to accept as a matter of faith that Planck's constant is a fundamental quantity, this does not make science a religion, nor imply that religion and science share some fundamental commonality. A religious believer may similarly accept observations as true, but this does not make his religion a science.

Particularly in the context of ongoing attempts by American religious conservatives to infuse public education with their religion, it seems to me that the Templeton Prize is little more than an incentive for them to continue such an effort. It also is a bribe--one that has successfully lured more than one well-known scientist into becoming a spokesman for the right-wing religious cause.


Templeton platform

History/philosophy of science...I think so!

This is a huge problem today...so few scientists have a history of their profession. Robert Thornton who had recently received his Ph.D. and was preparing his teaching material at the University of Puerto Rico, Mayaguez in 1944 wrote Einstein a letter. Thornton's question was simple and relevant: Is it worthy to introduce as much history of science and philosophy of science as possible into the realm of modern physics.

Einstein's answer [December 1944]:

I fully agree with you about the significance and educational value of methodology as well as history and philosophy of science. So many people today -- and even professional scientists -- seem to me like somebody who has seen thousands of trees but has never seen a forest. A knowledge of the historic and philosophical background gives that kind of independence from prejudices of his generation from which most scientists are suffering. This independence created by philosophical insight is -- in my opinion -- the mark of distinction between a mere artisan or specialist and a real seeker after truth.

Nothing new from Einstein for in 1916, Einstein wrote a memorial note for Ernst Mach:

How does it happen that a properly endowed natural scientist comes to concern himself with epistemology? Is there no more valuable work in his specialty? I hear many of my colleagues saying, and I sense it from many more, that they feel this way. I cannot share this sentiment. When I think about the ablest students whom I have encountered in my teaching, that is, those who distinguish themselves by their independence of judgment and not merely their quick-wittedness, I can affirm that they had a vigorous interest in epistemology. They happily began discussions about the goals and methods of science, and they showed unequivocally, through their tenacity in defending their views, that the subject seemed important to them. Indeed, one should not be surprised at this.

Concepts that have proven useful in ordering things easily achieve such an authority over us that we forget their earthly origins and accept them as unalterable givens. Thus they come to be stamped as "necessities of thought," "a priori givens," etc. The path of scientific advance is often made impassable for a long time through such errors. For that reason, it is by no means an idle game if we become practiced in analyzing the long commonplace concepts and exhibiting those circumstances upon which their justification and usefulness depend, how they have grown up, individually, out of the givens of experience. By this means, their all-too-great authority will be broken. They will be removed if they cannot be properly legitimated, corrected if their correlation with given things be far too superfluous, replaced by others if a new system can be established that we prefer for whatever reason.

Physics [and indeed all sciences] can be misguided and troubled with problems without a clear perspective of history and philosophy of science.

Science interests...how is it done?

How is it done. How does one get young people interested in the sciences: Parents, relatives, the first science set, books, television, cinema, friends, teachers, opportunities, culture, environment? Who knows. Stewart E. Brekke wrote a letter to Physics Today and may well be a benchmark for getting students interested in physics. As a side note, I have discovered that some students I talk to express an interesting frustration--a frustration that is difficult to resolve. Many are intimidated by the success and spectacular discoveries of the few--Einstein, Fermi, Bohr, etc. They feel that they could never reach their height of success or fame. What do you say to a youngster that feels this way?

"Educating Students to Appreciate Physics"

by

Stewart E. Brekke

After several years of decline, the number of physics BA degrees awarded by colleges and universities has leveled off...and high-school enrollments are increasing somewhat. However, we can improve on these figures. My experience as a physics teacher suggests that it is the high-school course that generates the college and university enrollments in physics. In many US high schools, only the upper 20% or so of the student population takes physics. The rest are often excluded by either the unnecessary rigor of a course that emphasizes theory and questioning rather than tools and problem solving, or by poor performance on standardized tests. This exclusion leads directly to lower physics enrollments in higher education.

In some school districts--for example, New York City and Chicago--physics and chemistry are required high-school courses. Student populations in these urban schools are often considered to be at risk. However, I have taught in urban schools with mostly African American and Hispanic students, and my experience is that minority and other at-risk students can do well in a basic physics course with the standard mathematical components. Students need drills and practices so that, with individual help from the teacher, they can use a formula and solve for a variable, use scientific notation, take and analyze data, and understand how to do simple modeling.

In the past, high-school physics texts were badly written, often emphasizing "thinking," while lacking problem-solving examples and the drills that might have helped inexperienced students. Almost any student can solve even a difficult and advanced physics problem if an example is given or if the teacher provides individual help. Making students struggle with a problem without first giving them the basic tools to solve it discourages many who are capable and interested.

By making the high-school course more user-friendly and more applicable without sacrificing quality of content, we will generate more students taking physics at all levels of instruction. Motivated students will then encourage their friends to take physics. More teaching positions will result and fewer physicists will be lost to other professions.