BEAUTY
AND SCIENCE:
THE
AESTHETIC IMPULSE TO SCIENTIFIC PROGRESS
Richard Baldwin
Gulf Coast Community College
In this age of unprecedented scientific advance, a
new breed of historians of science is attempting to understand, and maybe even
refine, the notion of "progress."
How are these historians attempting to explain scientific progress, and
how are they dealing with the one aspect of the doing of science that has
parallels in the so-called subjective disciplines, such as art, theology,
poetry, music, and the classics? These
disciplines which recognize and capitalize on the subjective elements of the
human experience may have more in common with science than was once thought.
Those who would claim that science is a purely
objective discipline and would deny the validity of "truth" that goes
beyond the boundaries of a logical, positivist epistemology seem to have
ignored a prime motivator of many of science's most revered innovators and
discoverers: the search for
beauty! Aesthetics is not only a pleasure
to the spirit and imagination, it is also an important component of discovery
and invention that cannot be supplied by mere logic.
In 1934, Karl Popper in his book, The Logic of Scientific Discovery,
attempted to argue against the view of science as progressing by induction, a
conviction that had prevailed since the time of Bacon and Hume. He proposed a hypothetico-deductive method
to explain scientific progress. In this
model, an hypothesis is subjected to deductive testing, a process he covered in
some detail in his book.
One main principle of Popper's method is that all
statements [or all `meaningful' statements] of empirical science must be
capable of being finally decided, with respect to their truth and falsity. . . .(1) But because, in Popper's view, there is no
such thing as induction, "not the verifiability
but the falsifiability of a system is
to be taken as a criterion of demarcation."(2) Popper's picture of the scientific enterprise, however, is
lopsided on the falsification side, because, in fact, scientists do not just
try to falsify their hypotheses. They
also attempt to verify them. In
addition, Popper's explanation of scientific progress was just too rational and
systematic to explain what scientists seemed actually to be doing.
It was not until the 1960s, though, that a radical
alternative was proposed. In 1962 in
his The Structure of Scientific
Revolutions, Thomas Kuhn caused quite a stir with his rejection of any
theory of science as a merely logical process of accretion. He reported other elements involved in
scientific progress, such as arbitrariness, extraordinary science (the almost
random speculation to explain anomalies), intuition, idiosyncracies of
autobiography and personality, and, most important for this paper, an
individual's sense of the aesthetic.
Probably the most revolutionary concept, and the
most developed in his book, is his explanation of science as progressing in
paradigmatic revolutions rather than smooth logical accretions. Kuhn sees science as progressing by current
theory reaching a crisis of anomalies that can only be resolved by the
acceptance of a new theory or paradigm.
A period of "normal science" occurs where problem solving is
done successfully with the accepted paradigm as a guide. Eventually a number of anomalies are
revealed that can only be explained by accepting a new paradigm, and so
forth. In this view, the greatest
discoveries are made in the periods of paradigmatic revolution, not during the
periods of normal science.(3) The most
impressive evidence for his theory is his explanation of the Copernican
revolution.
Kuhn states that the prevailing Ptolemaic
astronomy was "admirably successful in predicting the changing positions
of both stars and planets."(4) In
succeeding centuries, however, the attempts to deal with minor discrepancies
had made the system so complex and cumbersome that some began to doubt it. Other pressures, especially the demand for
calendar reform, compounded the crisis in Ptolemaic astronomy.
One interesting point about Kuhn's theory of
paradigm shifts is that he claims that new theories usually do not answer any
more questions than did the old ones.
That is, new theories are not accepted because they necessarily answer
all or most questions the old theories had failed to solve. Rather, the crisis with the old theories led
scientists to give another theory a chance, a theory that is
"incommensurable" with the former.(5)
The heliocentric astronomy of Copernicus was
indeed revolutionary and caused a theological crisis for many in the church who
thought the Bible taught a geocentric universe. But is Kuhn's theory of paradigm-shift an accurate description of
the way science progresses? Do minor
and major scientific advances in theory demonstrate the "crisis-followed-by-paradigm-shift"
model?
In the 1980s, Paul Feyerabend offered his
alternative: an anarchistic picture of
scientific progress. Arguing that the
Copernican revolution exemplifies the anarchistic method at work, he summarizes
his approach as follows:
The attempt to increase liberty, to lead a full
and rewarding life, and the corresponding attempt to discover the secrets of
nature and of man entails, therefore, the rejection of all universal standards
and of all rigid traditions.(6)
Feyerabend has been attacked for distorting
history, but he himself presents the best refutation. For, even as he sends forth the cry for "no methods" as
the method of scientific progress, at
the very same instant he has to admit:
There may, of course, come a time when it will be
necessary to give reason a temporary advantage and when it will be wise to
defend its rules to the exclusion of everything else.(7)
It is hard to take Feyerabend seriously, when he
realizes the ultimate consequences of everyone following his proposals: chaos.
On the other hand, he does successfully remind us that the preponderance
of scientific discovery and invention is not the result of induction. Indeed, the "random speculation"
that Kuhn reported occurring during periods of "extraordinary
science" is still largely unexplained by any of these philosophers of
science.
A closer look at Popper's book reveals that he
probably has received more criticism than he deserves, for he seems to be
accused of explaining scientific progress as occurring by his
hypothetico-deductive process of falsification. But Popper explains in the introduction to his work that he has
no logical explanation for the seemingly intuitive process of the production of
new ideas, theories or hypotheses:
It so happens that my arguments in this book are
quite independent of this problem.
However, my view of the matter, for what it is worth, is that there is
no such thing as a logical reconstruction of this process. My view may be expressed by saying that
every discovery contains "an irrational element", or "a creative
intuition. . . ."(8)
Popper, therefore, does not deal with this crucial
element of scientific progress, the act of conceiving or inventing a
theory. He even declares it to be
"irrelevant to the logical analysis of scientific knowledge."(9)
Of these three important views of the progress of
science, the first declines even to speculate on the crucial conception of new
ideas; the second only hints at progress resulting from "an individual's
sense of the appropriate or the aesthetic;"(10) and the third suggests
anarchism (even a negative sophistic approach of making "the weaker case
the stronger")(11) as the only producer of new ideas. On the contrary, scientists themselves have
disclosed one key to scientific progress and the production of new ideas,
theories, hypotheses or paradigms: the
search for beauty.
This impulse to discovery and invention can no
longer be ignored in the attempt to understand the progress of science. Mathematicians and scientists use terms
associated with the arts to describe mathematical and scientific discoveries
and inventions. For instance, how is it
that a formula such as,
1
can be described as giving someone "a thrill
which is indistinguishable from the thrill which I feel when I enter the
Segrestia Nuova of Capella Medice?"(12)
How, too, can our definition of "the beautiful" encompass
Michelangelo's David and Marcel
Duchamp's bicycle? Or Leonardo da
Vinci's The Last Supper and Picasso's
Guernica?
The answer might be found in the writings of the
fourth-century BC philosopher Aristotle.
Indeed, Aristotle's explanation of the pleasure human beings receive
from the dramatic arts can be shown also to explain much of the aesthetic
pleasure they experience in other arts and in the sciences.
Aristotle begins by asserting that man is
differentiated from animals, because he is the most imitative and learns his
first lessons by imitation. All men
find pleasure in imitation and Aristotle gives as proof the fact that things
that distress people in person do not do so when viewed in
representations. This is so, because an
act of learning from imitation, although most pleasurable to philosophers, is
also in a lesser sense pleasurable to all.
And here is the key to this pleasure: in viewing representations men learn and
infer that "this is that."(13)
"This is that" is explained more fully when Aristotle asserts
that poetry is superior to history, because poetry is concerned with universals
rather than particulars.(14) He
explains that by universal he means what sort of man turns out to say or do
what sort of thing according to probability or necessity rather than merely
"what Alcibiades did or experienced." So learning and inferring that "this is that,"
universals from particulars, is the first key to pleasure for man in art and,
as will be seen, in mathematics and science.
Aristotle indicates that harmony and rhythm are
also innate to mankind,(15) and he refers to the beauty of mathematics and
mentions order as one of the chief forms of the beautiful.(16) Expanding on these ideas, the mathematician
H. E. Huntley, in his attempt to define a mathematic aesthetic, ties the beauty
of mathematics together with the ideas of harmony and rhythm without
specifically referring to these passages in Aristotle. Huntley discusses the remark of the French
mathematician, Henri Poincaré, "but for harmony beautiful to contemplate,
science would not be worth following."(17) He also asserts that, "Mathematical beauty is found in
patterns."(18) Furthermore,
"It is a matter of common observation that patterns can be a source of
aesthetic pleasure, whether they are found in nature or in the creative output
of a mathematical imagination."(19)
Rhythm or pattern as an element of the aesthetic is also discussed in
reference to music: "The pattern
of notes of a melody form a sequence in time, but unless memory allows the
whole to be grasped in an instant, the beauty vanishes."(20) Therefore the human aesthetic pleasure in
patterns is related to Aristotle's argument of the basic human pleasure in
learning and inferring universals from particulars, discovering order out of
chaos. J. W. N. Sullivan suggests this
very thing, when he describes patterns as bringing order out of chaos:
Since the primary object of the scientific theory
is to express the harmonies which are found to exist in nature, we see at once,
that those theories must have an aesthetic value. The measure of success of a scientific theory is, in fact, a
measure of its aesthetic value, since it is a measure of the extent to which it
has introduced harmony in what was before chaos.(21)
In summary, the aesthetic pleasure that mankind
experiences in art and science is an intellectual pleasure rooted in a learning
experience. Most successful art and
science provide this pleasurable learning experience through the discovery of
universals in particulars, through patterns that emerge to provide order from
chaos. Whether learning about suffering
or power or love or hate by viewing a work of art, or grasping the concepts of
light or motion or conductivity by discovering laws or principles of science,
these finds can all be called "beautiful." There is indeed an aesthetic element in the motivation behind
scientific progress that seems to parallel that in the art world. As Wechsler comments: "Bohr, Dirac, Einstein, Heisenberg,
Poincaré, and others acknowledge intuitive and aesthetic judgments as decisive
factors in the acceptance or rejection of a particular model."(22)
Poincaré poignantly witnesses to the aesthetic
pleasure and resulting motivation for science:
The Scientist does not study nature because it is
useful to do so. He studies it because
he takes pleasure in it; and he takes pleasure in it because it is
beautiful. If nature were not
beautiful, it would not be worth knowing and life would not be worth living . .
. I mean the intimate beauty which comes from the harmonious order of its parts
and which pure intelligence can grasp.(23)
Cyril Stanley Smith, writing on aesthetics in
science, adds his testimony, declaring that "discovery derives from
aesthetically-motivated curiosity and is rarely a result of practical
purposefulness."(24) Though this
flies in the face of logical positivists and even some less rigid scientists
who, nevertheless, consider themselves objective pursuers of fact, many
introspective men in science have attributed their motivation and success to
this aesthetic cognition.
Erwin Schrodinger, in his quest of a "beautiful
theory for describing atomic events," was contemplating Louis DeBroglie's
ideas of waves associated with particles.
He produced his wave equation by "pure thought, looking for some
beautiful generalization of DeBroglie's ideas and not by keeping close to the
experimental development of the subject. . . ."(25)
Another scientist who was conscious of this mode
of aesthetic cognition in discovery and invention was Herman Weyl. In spite of his convictions from the
observable facts that his gauge theory of gravitation was wrong, he pursued it
for its "beauty." Much later
his instinct was proven to be correct and the formalism of gauge invarience
became incorporated into quantum electrodynamics. Commenting on his scientific method, Weyl said, "My work
always tried to unite the true with the beautiful; but when I had to choose one
or the other, I usually chose the beautiful."(26)
James Watson, the Nobel Prize-winning biologist,
has given great insight into the real methods of scientific progress. In his fascinating account of the discovery
of the structure of DNA in The Double
Helix, he reveals the influence of personalities, cultural traditions,
chance and an aesthetic sense on the progress of science. The last element is particularly
interesting, because it was a major key to unlocking the secret structure of
the hereditary molecule.
As Watson describes his adventure, he mentions
Linus Pauling's suggestion of an -helix structure. Though it was shown to be false, Watson talks about how Pauling
does science. During the lecture when
Pauling suggested his theory, Watson reports that "with eyes twinkling,
Linus explained the specific characteristics that made his model--the
-helix--uniquely beautiful."(27)
Again there is an aesthetic sentiment in the description of a scientific
model.
The aesthetic impulse to the discovery in Watson's
case is hinted at when he remarks, "Perhaps the whole problem would fall
out just by our concentrating on the prettiest way for a polynucleotide chain
to fold up."(28) When Watson
decided to work on a two-chain model for the structure of DNA, besides being an
aesthetically motivated choice based on simplicity, beauty, and the fact that
many important biological objects come in pairs, he did so in spite of evidence
to the contrary. Assuming that the data
must be incorrect, his aesthetic cognition urged him to go forward. This aesthetic judgment was indeed proven
correct, for measurements of the water content that would not allow the double
helix structure were subsequently proven to be incorrect.(29)
Science does indeed seem to have more in common
with the subjective disciplines of the humanities than is often supposed. Indeed, the realization of this common
impulse--the search for beauty--at work in the sciences as well as the arts
must be taken into account in any history of science. The realization of this aesthetic impulse to scientific discovery
could be a contact point, in fact, to broaden the interdisciplinary movement
among the humanities to include new dialogue with the sciences.
***
An assistant professor of
history at Gulf Coast Community College and a PhD candidate at Florida State
University, Richard Baldwin is currently writing his dissertation, "An
Aristotelian Critique of Homeric Comic Technique in the Iliad."
ENDNOTES
1. Karl R. Popper, The Logic of Scientific Discovery (New
York: Basic Books, Inc., 1959), 40.
2. Ibid.
3. Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982), 77.
4. Ibid., 68.
5. Ibid., 150.
6. Paul Feyerabend, Against Method (London: Thetford Press
Ltd., 1984), 20.
7. Ibid., 21.
8. Popper, Logic of Scientific Discovery, 32.
9. Ibid., 31.
10. Kuhn, Structure of Scientific Revolutions,
155.
11. Feyerabend, Against Method, 30.
12. S. Chandrasekhar,
"Beauty and the Quest for Beauty in Science," Physics Today 32 (1979): 29.
13. Aristotle, Poetics, 1448 b 16,17: θεωρovτας μαvθvειv κα συλλoγζεσθαι τ καστov, oov τι oτoς κεvoς.
14. Ibid., 1451 b 6,7: μv γρ πoησις μλλov τ καθλoυ, δ' στoρα τ καθ' καστov λγει).
15. Ibid., 1448 b 20, 21.
16. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 1078 b.
17. H. E. Huntley, The Divine Proportion: A Study in
Mathematical Beauty (New York: Dover Publication Inc., 1970), 1.
18. Ibid., 84.
19. Ibid., 118.
20. Ibid.
21. Chandrasekhar,
"Beauty and the Quest for Beauty," 29.
22. Judith Wechsler, ed.,
On Aesthetics in Science (Cambridge:
The MIT Press, 1978), 4.
23. Chandrasekhar,
"Beauty and the Quest for Beauty, 29.
24. Wechsler, On Aesthetics in Science, 9.
25. P. A. M. Dirac,
"The Physicist's Picture of Nature," Scientific American 208 (1963): 46.
26. Chandrasekhar,
"Beauty and the Quest for Beauty," 25.
27. James D. Watson, The Double Helix (New York: The New
American Library, Inc., 1969), 36.
28. Ibid., 61.
29. Ibid., 108.