As I’ve said repeatedly, I’ve been conflicted about participating in the March for Science, and have explained why I decided not to participate—but why I don’t discourage others from doing so. I wish them well, and hope that they effect some change.
In the meantime, physicist Lawrence Krauss has published two simultaneous pieces on today’s March: one in the New Yorker (“What is science good for?“), and the other in Scientific American (“March for Science or March for Reality?”). They’re both good, especially the first one, which makes the point that the March’s goal of “[calling] for science that upholds the common good” is a bit problematic. That goal, says Krauss, leads to political decisions about supporting science having foreseeable and beneficial concerns to humanity, and of course turns the “common good” into an “inherently political” and subjective aim that shouldn’t govern scientific research. I agree with him when he says that pure curiosity should be the center of the scientific enterprise. And his point about science being, in that respect, similar to the humanities—a kind of art, but one that finds objective truth—is one I’ve often made. But here—read for yourself:
And yet, as important as these economic and technological spinoffs of science are, knowledge, in itself, is still at the center of the scientific enterprise. In this respect, perhaps the greatest benefit of science for society is how it transforms our culture. Science provides us with a new perspective on our place in the cosmos and a better understanding of ourselves as human beings. It helps us overcome our otherwise myopic preconceptions about how the world works. At a deep level, it allows us to see through some of our illusions about reality, which result from the peculiarities of space and time within which we happen to exist, and to perceive, instead, the detailed, fundamental workings of nature.
In these aspects, science resembles those other human activities, like art, music, and literature, that distinguish humanity as a species. We don’t—or shouldn’t—ask what the utility of a play by Shakespeare is, or how a Mozart concerto or a Rolling Stones song upholds “the common good,” or how a Picasso painting or a movie like “Citizen Kane” might be in “the national interest.” (Perhaps it’s because we insist on thinking in such terms that support for art, music, and literature is also under attack in Congress.) The free inquiry and creative activity we find in science and art reflect the best about what it means to be human.
In one small respect, Lawrence undercuts this thesis by arguing that research driven by curiosity still has had salubrious spinoffs for society, and that, too, should get people to support basic research. Further, a lot of directly goal-driven medical research has itself had beneficial results, or transgenic work like the creation of “golden rice.” That kind of work should be supported.
Nevertheless, human curiosity is a worthwhile motivation for scientists, but, I’d add, only if the results if that research are passed on to the people who fund it: the taxpayers. The implicit conclusion is that to make the results of pure science a true “common good” in the Kraussian sense, researchers must tell the public about their work, making public outreach a real priority for all scientists. (Some aren’t very good at it!). I agree again, and that’s one reason why I do it. And the eloquent quote by Wilson given below should be read and remembered by all of us:
In 1969, Robert Wilson, the first director of the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory, near Chicago, was asked by Congress whether the huge particle accelerator being built there would contribute to “the national defense.” His response then is appropriate now:
No, sir. . . . I don’t believe so. . . . It has only to do with the respect with which we regard one another, the dignity of men, our love of culture. . . . It has to do with, are we good painters, good sculptors, great poets? I mean all the things we really venerate in our country and are patriotic about. It has nothing to do directly with defending our country except to make it worth defending.
Finally, I agree with Krauss’s conclusion about the goals of a good science march, and had the ones given below been the main aims, without the pollution by identity politics and the unsustainable accusations that science itself is a tool of oppression, I’d be adding my carcass to the group:
The March for Science can meaningfully celebrate the ways in which the process of science enhances our lives, and it can usefully demand that the government pursue evidence-based public policy. It’s certainly true that Congress should use the knowledge developed by free inquiry to assist in developing policies to promote “the common good,” as the electorate conceives of it. But the standard of “the common good” should not be the one by which science is judged, because such a standard risks politicizing what is inherently apolitical. The March for Science must be clear-eyed in its defense of the scientific process as an independently valuable human activity. It should defend the core value of the scientific process: discovering more about the universe, and ourselves.
The Sci Am piece deals less with the nature of science and much more with the malfeasance—and lack of respect for truth—of the Trump administration itself, pointing out all the ways that administration has lied about or tried to suppress science. We all know, despite the claims of the March’s organizers, that it’s really a political protest about Trump, more like the “Women’s March, But With Scientists”. That’s fine, but Krauss argues that perhaps Trump himself, and our constant efforts to publicize his administration’s lies and missteps, will itself accomplish what the Science March is supposed to do:
By providing such a constant and sharp explicit and observable contrast between policy and empirical reality, the Trump administration can encourage a new public skepticism about political assertions vs. reality, and a demand for evidence before endorsing policies and the politicians who espouse them—the very things that most marchers on April 22nd will be demanding. This skepticism is beginning to manifest itself in data. A Gallup poll result on April 17 indicated that only 45 percent of the public believe President Trump’s promises, a drop of 17 percent since February.
. . . The Trump Administration is discovering that obfuscation, denial, and hype may work when selling real estate, but in public arena eventually reality has a way of biting you in the butt. And the public is watching. The March for Science may be lucky to capitalize upon a growing awareness that there is no Wizard behind the curtain. The number of marchers, their backgrounds, or even their myriad messages may not drive the success of the March. Rather, it may be driven by the harsh examples coming out every day that reality exists independent of the desires or claims of those in power. In this case, the greatest asset the March for Science has going for it may be Donald Trump himself.
My only beef here is that Krauss, as a secular Jew, should have said “tuchas” instead of “butt”.







