According to Karl Popper, there are two contexts at work when trying to understand science. One is called 'the context of discovery', the other 'context of justification'. In many ways all human cognitive activities share similar divisions; art for instance also tends to fall apart in discussions on the intrinsic qualities, the skills, and mastery of the craft on one side, and discussions on the meaning, the purpose, and the place of art in society on the other. Philosophy (of science) itself knows many discussions on the issues related to discovery (e.g. Kuhn's discovery of paradigm shifts), and the (self-) justification of philosophy of science, for instance on the role that it has with respect to scientific processes, or its relationship to the role of science in society.

Methodological Stuff:
  1. Introduction
  2. Patterns
  3. Patterns, Objectivity and Truth
  4. Patterns and Processes
  5. Complexity and Randomness
  6. Complexity and Postmodernism
  7. Complexity and Rationality

The Pattern Library:

  1. A Pattern of Difference
  2. A Pattern of Feedback
  3. The Hourglass Pattern
  4. The Pattern of Contextual Diminution
The self-justification of certain activities or roles always tends to favour the group who performs them, and for long philosophy of science saw itself as the guardian of pure forms of reasoning, as the sharpest of critical analysts of certain developments in society related to science and technology, or as messengers who could raise the consciousness or awareness of people with respect to certain problems regarding science. Likewise, the self-justification of science was related to the methodological search for truths, the discovery and mastery of certain phenomena in nature, and so on.

Whatever these contexts of justifications may have been in the past, it safe to say that academic enterprises have always tended to favour elite classes, and so the self-justifications also tend to blend with the self-image of the ruling classes throughout Western history. Hence, philosophy of science tends to highlight the grandeur of the Ancient Greek and Roman states, the European Renaissance and Industrialisation, and the intellectual meritocracy of the early Twentieth Century. These are all era's in which philosophy blossomed, and times that were philosophically barren tend to be ignored. The general tenure tends to be that Academia played a major role in the development of our Western civilisation and were in part responsible for the splendor of the various Golden Ages.

Historians of science and technology have, however, started to notice strange inconsistencies in this narrative, for instance the apparent lack of intellectual activities in the Middle Ages (the 'Dark' ages), and the sudden explosion of new ideas in the Renaissance (even ignoring the blatant euro-centrism of many of these stories). By not solely relying on the accounts of Academia, but also cross-referencing with data from other sources -for instance the archives in city councils- or simply looking when certain discoveries or innovations were made, it becomes clear that Academia has known periods of immense intellectual stagnation, while the world around them was on a roll. Historian of Economics David Landes has called the 'Dark Ages' to be one of the most innovative eras the world had known up to that point, and James Hannam has pointed out that many supposed discoveries of 'Renaissance men' were actually already known by medeaval thinkers, but not written down because the printing press had not been invented yet. One could say, with some exaggeration, that the intellectual grandeur of the Renaissance is the result of a massive form of plagerialism.

More and more, it is becoming clear that the traditional historical account of science conveniently ignored the role of craftsmen and artisans, while the roles of classical (elitist) philosophers and academic thinkers were magnified. The actual evolution of knowledge has however been fed by both (e.g. Pamela Smith's “The body of the Artisan”). Philosophy brought a consistent and thorough style of thinking and argumentation, while the crafts brought experiment, tools and instrumentation. This successful, but strenuous bond between (natural) philosophy and the crafts remains to date. For instance, in computer and information science the differences between the 'neats' and the 'scruffs' is only one of the difficulties between more formally inclined scientists and experimenters. With the pattern of convergence inducing process, we can see why this combine is so successful, as the neats and scruffs together roughly fulfill the roles of exploration and optimisation. It also confirms the observed exponential growth of scientific produce by Ray Kurzweil and Brian Arthur ,who see a self-reinforcing feedback loop at work, where observation (and theoretical models) leads to instrumentation, and instrumentation leads to new ways of looking at our life-world.

In my previous post, I had already briefly introduced bio-physicist and ethicist Henri Atlan, who considers the epistemological ideals of Academia -order, truth, and formal rigidity- to spring from the mythodological sources of Themis, the Ancient Greek Godess of the Earth. He contrasts this with Metis, Godess of the Sea, who represents a different source of knowledge, fluid, dynamic and in constant flux. It requires a certain craftiness to deal with this , a knowledge that is both creative and sly. The history of science in Western Europe thus tells a story of the development of these two forms of knowledge and their mutual interactions. The crafts liberated natural philosophy in the early Sixteenth Century by introducing the experiment to Academia (working with your hands was definitely a novelty for the aristocracy at the time!).  It also suggests that complexity thinking is another contribution of the crafts to scientific enterprises. The crafts have more experience with dealing with uncertainty, contingency and risk. This is a natural consequence of having to work with limited means in limited time, in an environment that continuously can confront you with things you did not consider, or which you are not trained for (see: the hourglass pattern). Traditionally many academic enterprises focused on ivory tower reasoning, or working with idealisations and ideal circumstances. Both have strengths and weaknesses, but together they have proven to be a formidable tag team.

Complexity as a Scientific Crisis

Elites tend to respond to threats in three stages. In the first stage, the threat is ignored, hoping that it will pass. In the second stage a strong defensive attitude will try to crush the threat, by ridiculing or downplaying it's importance, in order to prevent it from gaining (more) momentum. In the third stage, elites will absorb the threat and consider it to be a necessary adjustment that they themselves helped to facilitate. The protest parties of one era become the elites of another, but often the same individuals and institutions adapt -often with surprising moral plasticity- in order to retain their positions. If thinkers such as Paul Cilliers and others therefore observe a crisis in science because of complexity, it means that modern science is forced to adapt because complexity can no longer be ignored. It is not possible to address current challenges, such as globalisation or sustainability, with linear causality, or deterministic models. Whatever one's ideas on these issues, there is a general consent that things are, well, more complex than that!

Following the three-stage adaptive process of elites, we can see that science has moved from the first into the second stage of threat of complexity. Ilya Prigogine may once have been summoned by his supervisors not to pursue non-equilibrium thermodynamics in 1947, but since then many strands of complexity have become mainstream, and have gained strong support in numerical modelling. At the same time, many scientist are often still in some form of denial that these findings may affect the philosophical foundations on which their own enterprises are built. My previous posts targeted this problem, and-whether you can appreciate my attempts or not- I hope I have made it clear that this revisiting does not have to be threatening at all.Unless, of course, one still wants to believe that science one day will provide a 'Laplacian substitute for God'.

As a result, we currently are facing attitutes in-between ignoring the problem and one that defends the current state of affairs, with stage one being on the decline. I think that we are also seeing the first signs of stage three which, like in the days of Francis Bacon, means the absorption of professional enterprises by academia. The traditional ideal of 'pursuit of knowledge' has become more pro-active and invasive, through high-tech start-up companies, think-tanks for policy and government, and active involvement of thinkers in public debates. Science is currently also the dominant form of knowledge in many countries, as the entire education is based on scientific insights. As a result, science is more and more becoming a professional activity.

...but then without recognition of the historical ties it has with the crafts.

And here I see some potential problems.

In my own area, I see this transformation in the many novel forms of 'engineering' that are springing up in the universities. We have already seen 'social engineering', 'bio-engineering', 'investment engineers' and other colleagues who claim to be engineers. What worries me however, is that, in true academic fashion, 'engineering' is reduced to the activity of 'applying science', while engineering-like all the crafts- traditionally served purposes that are requested by others. Engineers do not build bridges for the sake of testing new technology; they build bridges because it is requested. Therefore I prefer, with Bruno Latour, to consider many of these hip, academic enterprises that develop technology for the sake of discovery, to be techno-scientific rather than engineering.

Likewise I also see an increase of a pro-active philosophy in ethical advisory boards and so on. I have no problem that this happens in itself, but one may wonder if we are still dealing with philosophy, or that we are dealing with a form of engineering with philosophical means.

In all these cases, it is questionable whether a traditional academic training is sufficient for all these professional activities. Like the crafts, it would be wise to get trained in understanding that your activities serve a purpose other than fooling around with your pet hobbies, like it or not! If this societal aspect of being a professional is removed from the equation -and in engineering this includes stuff like requirement analysis, functional specifications, project management, acceptance testing and maintenance- then 'engineering' quickly becomes a hollow term, an elitist attempt to absorb the fun part of engineering, without the responsibilities that come with acting in a certain environment.

In my country there has also been a tendency to turn polytechnical schools in a sort of university-lite editions. I do not see how this can have any added value, and the results of these changes so far have not given any reason to believe otherwise. Here and there some schools are turning back to a classical tutoring system, where masters train pupils the tricks of the trade of classical craftsmanship, as is beautifully described in Richard Sennett's 'the Craftsman'. Professionalism is the art of experiencing complexity and learning to deal with this. It is also normative; we currently have too few professionals who take pride in putting, within reason, the client's wishes first. In finance, medicine, architecture, technology and all other other areas where these hip, so-called engineers make their money.