Most scientists avoid using ‘prove’ because of its meaning in math, which is fine – I don’t use it myself. But I also have no trouble recognizing the arbitrariness of this choice. For example, physicists are quite comfortable saying that they have observed a new particle even though that formulation also implies certainty in their conclusion.
An excellent demonstration of how fallible ‘facts’ can be. ‘Theory’ in fact represents no particular level of acceptance in science. Extremely well-supported, overarching models are termed theories but so are working models and entirely speculative hypotheses. That’s the actual usage by scientists as I’ve observed it over the several decades that I’ve been paying attention.
The good ones will tell you what they mean by whatever terminology they’re using. If they don’t, rail at them for their failure rather than for using particular words.
That is the exact problem right there. Scientists cannot even get their usage of “theory” straight. Its hard enough teaching school kids that scientific knowledge is extremely trustworthy yet still open to constant revision and change. I notice that usage you point out as well. “String theory” is a prime example. It might not even be science depending on who you ask. We should not be using the same terms. When I read a chemistry text that says “a theory is a well tested and well accepted explanation for a broad set of observations” and a scientists uses theory in the colloquial sense of something closer to a “working guess” that is an issue to me.
It seems all my intro science text books define “theory” the same way. If you can show me textbooks that say a scientific theory is also just a “speculative hypothesis” I’ll come around. But scientists should be using “hypothesis” when they mean “hypothesis” and “theory” when they mean “theory.” As a science educator this just creates all sorts of confusion and with our curriculum I just don’t have the time to wade through this and correct the babble that scientists think they mean for high school students.
“But many scientists are very quick to dismiss Christianity as being non-scientific or irrational or as simply irrelevant now that we have science to explain the world.”
Asking them if they think science can explain the world, is a great question to start with.
And then being able to show that there are only three possible statements to explain the world is a good follow up.
In addition to being curious, scientists can also be skeptical. In fact, one could say that science is a form of skepticism. Understanding what skepticism is would go a long ways towards understanding where non-believing scientists are coming from.
From the article:
I don’t think this would be very helpful. From a non-believers viewpoint, the belief in God comes before the belief that order is the result of God. This suffers from the “chicken or the egg” problem. The relationship between God and order is obvious to the Christian, but it isn’t something that a non-believer will agree with.
Personally, I think an approach that focuses on personal experience and faith would be a better approach. It’s going to be difficult to convert a skeptical non-believer by trying to out-skeptic them. The subjective human experience might be a better place to start than the objective realities of the universe.
There are numerous terms that have well-defined meanings in science. It just so happens that ‘theory’ and ‘fact’ aren’t among them.
Here I think you’re missing an important distinction w/r/t the use of ‘theory’ that scientists (especially physicists) make, even if it’s usually unconsciously. That is the difference between ‘theory’ and ‘a theory’. The former refers to machinery, usually mathematical, for describing phenomena and not to a particular model and comes directly from math (set theory, number theory). String theory and quantum field theory are theory in this sense, as are other frameworks for calculation (effective heavy quark theory, lattice gauge theory) that are known to be approximations. A theory, on the other hand, is a specific model that is intended to describe specific phenomena. Thus, quantum electrodynamics is a theory that employs the framework of quantum field theory. As you move away from physics the distinction becomes murkier, e.g. the neutral theory of evolution includes both the machinery for calculating how neutral allele frequencies change and the specific claim that most molecular evolution is neutral.
The problem is that the textbook is simply wrong – and not just the textbook, since I’ve seen a similar statement from the US National Academy of Science. Nowhere have I seen any evidence that scientists actually employ this definition. There are plenty of technical terms in science that have clear definitions. You can tell what they are because if you use them incorrectly as a scientist, you’ll be corrected. If you use ‘significant’ or ‘confidence’ incorrectly in a paper, a reviewer will point out the mistake and you can find numerous papers and blog entries and tweets describing the correct usage and lambasting those who use them incorrectly. None of that happens with ‘theory’: it’s not taught, ‘mistakes’ aren’t corrected, and multiple meanings flourish. Go search on Google Scholar for “supersymmetric theories” (with quotes) and you’ll find tens of thousands of hits, even though there is zero evidence for any supersymmetric theory. This supposed scientific definition of theory is simply a myth that gets passed around among scientists, mostly when addressing anti-evolutionists.
I don’t need your help in “getting started.” I have read Nonsense on Stilts: How to Tell Science from Bunk by Massimo Pigliucci, a philosopher of science. And I attended the Intelligent Design debate at the American Museum of Natural History where philosopher of science Robert Pennock trounced the ID side. So, I’m good, thank you.
All of these are significant to the question, but only the identification issues are really pertinent to this particular case, given that the area has been (other than isostacy and associated earthquakes) pretty inactive geologically.
Yes I certainly make identification errors, and evolution often makes things a bit messy even without them.
And I agree on usage as well, I would personally essentially only use “prove” for mathematics.
@jammycakes it’s also helpful to talk with scientists about the impossibility of forming an infinite series through successive addition, which naturally leads into the question of whether anything actually exists as a discrete thing.
I posted this on the BL facebook (yes, that’s me too) after Faraday posted it, because I do think this actually is inherent to gracious dialogue. Understanding “why” people do things is the first step to understanding them. We don’t change people’s minds by beating them down by facts and evidence, it just doesn’t happen like that. People are moved by stories, seeing why others believe what they do, etc.
I think the article from the OP is promoting something quite different, when it recommends asking about underlying assumptions.
Guzman emphasizes curiosity and the importance of getting to know a person:
I mean, to the point that you have to wonder, how can we pretend to be informed when we’re not informed about each other? When we don’t know about each other’s perspectives, we are judging each other more, while engaging each other less. This is a vicious cycle that takes us away from reality. But at the same time, we’re plagued by certainty, and we’re plagued by fear. And it turns out that these are two arch villains of curiosity. And curiosity is this mental capacity we all have, there’s this misconception that curiosity is a personality trait. It’s not. It’s a practice.
In “How to Speak to a Scientist About Jesus,” however, the author talks about using questions and demonstrating curiosity in a very different way. Asking someone about their underlying assumptions, as this article does, IS a judgement question to begin with. It already assumes that the person across the table is making assumptions and that they are problematic. This is not curiosity. The asking is not intended to get to know the person, but rather to force a kind of confession. This is not the kind of relationship building that Guzman talks about, but a way to steer the conversation to a “remedy” that the person talking about Jesus wants to provide.
While I am a Christian, I still find this kind of conversation strategy offensive.
Yes, though I think maybe in the setting, it’s meant to make students less afraid of their profs–I’m guessing, anyway. But I agree–it can be offensive to imply that someone has presuppositions that they don’t take logically. It’s not intended that way, I think, but it certainly can be. I find that we people of faith are the worst, and it’s really transference in many cases (maybe not this one, though; not intentionally).
Maybe another way would be to say, “what do you think is the best way of getting accurate knowledge?”
Thanks
All the intro textbooks I have come across seem to disagree with you here. A pattern emerges with both terms though I think the former is discussed more than the latter at that level.
Its not “the textbook” its all the textbooks, written by eminent PhDs in the field, chosen and adopted by universities and other professors all over the globe. This exact process is part of what makes me cringe. Scientists equivocating on proof and theory. It seems you are fine with it. I am not.
“A word like ‘theory’ is a technical scientific term,” said Michael Fayer, a chemist at Stanford University. “The fact that many people understand its scientific meaning incorrectly does not mean we should stop using it. It means we need better scientific education.”
Does Michael Fayer not know what a theory is? The problem to me is scientists can be linguistically sloppy and equivocate terms which does a disservice to the public. As one trying to teach science at a high school level, the inconsistency in terminology bothers me when every source I give to a student defines theory very precisely as the article above does.
Yet now a theory can mean everything from what that article says to a hypothesis, a pure guess or even junk science.
As long as the terms are spelled out and used consistently I am fine with it. But its all very confusing for anyone outside the field of science.
Marshak: Essentials of Geology 7th Edition:
Theories are scientific ideas supported by an abundance of evidence; they have passed many tests and have failed none. Scientists are much more confident in the correctness
of a theory than of a hypothesis. Continued study in the quarry eventually yielded so much evidence for impact that the impact hypothesis came to be viewed as a theory. Scientists continue to test theories over a long time. Successful theories withstand these tests and are supported by so many observations that
they become part of a discipline’s foundation. (As you will discover in Chapter 3, geologists consider the idea that continents have moved around the surface of the Earth to be a theory because so much evidence supports it.) However, some theories may eventually be disproven and replaced by better ones.
I am not going to dig through all my science text books, I have hundreds (physical and virtual), but just about every one I have ever used or perused starts out with a discussion of science and defines a theory in a similar way.
When scientists use proof or theory in a way inconsistent with this it does bother me because I expect better at such a high level. I know my students will mix up “weight” and “mass” but its my job to correct them and even though I will rightly ask them how much a mass “weighs” but I would be a crappy physics teacher if I mixed up “mass” and “weight” in my discourse.
I have no sympathy for sloppy, lazy and inconsistent terminology in a professional publication. That scientists are not “correcting” it in peer-reviewed journals does not mean it shouldn’t be corrected (you seem to suggest it shouldn’t). It just makes them part of the problem.
It gets worse when scientists enter into a metaphysical discussion… Methodological naturalism has to be the biggest equivocation ever, given nearly every scientist I’ve come across has a theory of space and time.
Multiple problems here. First, there is less uniformity that you think – I’ll get to that in a moment. Second, they’re not equivocating, which implies intent to obscure. They’re saying what they believe is true, even if what they believe is a myth. Third, I’m not fine with the situation. The reason I’m responding to you is that the kind of blanket definition of ‘theory’ that we’re discussing drives me nuts. It’s inaccurate, misleading, and counterproductive. But the solution isn’t to get actual usage of these words to line up with their mythical definitions; rather, it is to better understand what scientists actually do, how they use words, and describe those things more accurately.
Well, no, he probably doesn’t. Which is not surprising, since scientists are really good at doing science and are rarely very good at describing how science actually works – that’s the job of historians, sociologists, and philosophers of science. To counter your statement that everyone defines ‘theory’ in the same way, consider two references, one linked to in the Sci Am article (What is a scientific theory? | Live Science) and one a classic essay by Stephen J. Gould (Stephen Jay Gould, "Evolution as Fact and Theory" 1994). Both emphasize that theories are explanations of facts. In that I think you’d find broad agreement (in principle if not always in practice) among scientists. Theories are explanations, and are usually conceived as fairly broad, although that last point is pretty vague – is the BCS theory of the mechanism of superconductivity really a broad explanatory framework for a wide range of phenomena?
What the two references I give above don’t include is the idea that a theory, by virtue of being a theory, has been well-tested by experiments and observation. In fact, Gould points out the simultaneous existence of competing theories to explain the same set of observations as well as the transitory nature of theories. It’s the part about theories only being theories if they’ve been well-tested that I object to because it’s not how science actually deploys the word. You might note that none of these textbooks or other authorities provide any evidence to support their definition.
You might also note that the two pieces I linked to, while they both define theories as explanations of facts, differ on what facts are. The livescience piece treats them as observables, while Gould considers human evolution from an ancestral species, which is certainly not directly observable, to be a fact. I think Gould is a lot closer to the mark here. I take ‘facts’ to be statements about the world that are well enough established that we can treat them as true for the purpose of further exploration. Contra Gould, theories do become facts. The germ theory of disease explains infectious disease in terms of microbes, and it is also a fact that microbes cause (some) disease, a fact that can then be the basis for further study.
The reason that scientists are sloppy with these terms is not that they’re being deceitful or that they’re sloppy thinkers, but that the meaning and relationship between these concepts are philosophically both complex and controversial – and scientists are mostly lousy philosophers.
Thanks for all your responses everyone. I think there’s a fairly clear consensus that while the article may be well intentioned and while it may make some good points, the approach that the author recommends is misguided and could be counterproductive. But there’s another question that I am interested in: having seen some bad advice, what would you say is some good advice on how to talk to scientists about our faith?
I think the main advice that I would give is: demonstrate to them that you take them seriously. For many scientists, their experience of Christianity has been tainted by bad attitudes towards science. There are many Christians who approach science in ways that are condescending, dishonest, suspicious, passive-aggressive, judgmental or even outright hostile, and if you want to persuade a scientist to listen to you, the very first thing you have to establish is that you are not one of them.
Another important piece of advice is: make sure your facts are straight. Scientists (and, for what it’s worth, engineers and anyone else who is scientifically educated) spend their careers working with factual data that is tightly constrained by logic and evidence, and they are trained to be able to work their way through multiple complex levels of reasoning to reach a conclusion. This means that you should never, ever, ever lie to them: they are much more sensitive to falsehood and misinformation than normal people, and also, being naturally sceptical, if they find you’re not being straight with them about one thing, they will start disbelieving everything you say about everything. Be especially careful to avoid ridiculous or easily falsified claims, and if a scientist tells you that you’re wrong about something, don’t keep repeating the same falsehood over and over again. Such things are not just being “odd” or “unintellectual”: they are an insult to a scientist’s intelligence.
Over and above that, ask questions to learn, not to win an argument. Genuine curiosity is always welcomed, but ulterior motives are not. For this reason, asking about their assumptions or motivations is not a good idea unless you’re willing to listen to their answer and to follow up with other questions to clarify anything that you don’t understand. And bear in mind that their answer will almost certainly not be the one you expect. Scientists know a whole lot more about the assumptions that they make, why they make them, and what you need to do in order to challenge them, than you do.
One particularly good question is to ask them to tell you about their research. It shows that you’re interested in them as people and you’re not just treating them as evangelism fodder. However, do make sure that you listen to their response and are prepared to ask follow-up questions as necessary. And don’t be afraid to admit that you don’t know what you don’t know. Scientists are for the most part more than happy to explain to you anything that you don’t understand. It’s far better to admit to ignorance than to have it exposed by making a string of nonsensical or untrue claims.