erceptions of Snow's "Two Cultures"
are remarkably durable, no matter which culture is considered ascendant. In 1978 the
eminent biologist Edward O.
Wilson wrote that "the high culture of Western civilization exists largely apart from the
natural sciences. In the United States intellectuals are virtually defined as those who work in
the prevailing mode of the social sciences and humanities. . . ."1 Yet just a year ago, Cambridge fellow George Steiner declared that "At this
point in the closing 
decade
of the millennium, it is clear that the sciences enlist the upper end of the curve of talent and
intellect . . . the high noon of the arts, music, and possibly literature lies behind us in the
West."2
Perhaps things have changed significantly in 20 years. In any case, views of the relative status
of different kinds of knowledge are in blatant disharmony. Academics of all stripes can be
heard to grumble that the "other side" is getting all the goodies: the research money, the media
attention, the glamor of discovery. Yet when asked directly, many academics (both humanists
and scientists) express a lively interest in, and respect for, the work of those across the aisle.
Some are even clasping hands and embarking on both dialogue and joint research.
At this year's meeting of the American Association for the
Advancement of Science (AAAS), there was evidence of much interdisciplinary
communication, not only among the physical sciences, but also between the physical and
social sciences and between the sciences and the humanities. For example, the session on
salmon recovery measures asked whether science can direct those efforts, given that the
scientific problems are well characterized but the solutions are primarily political; speakers
included non-scientist representatives of the Northwest Power Planning Council and the
Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish Commission. At another session, a representative of the Vatican Observatory discussed the
religious implications of
the possibility of life on Mars.
According to AAAS president Jane Lubchenco,
nowhere is the rapprochement between physical and social scientists proceeding as rapidly as
in the study of global environmental change. Here, Lubchenco says, researchers are being
forced to work together because the subject demands wide-ranging research that no one
discipline can handle. Chemists dominated early climate-change discussions, Lubchenco says,
but some biologists pressed for attention to the role of living things in climate dynamics. The
result is earth systems science, which addresses the physical, chemical, biological, and even
social components of the whole planet.
Efforts to find common ground between physical and social scientists have occurred
periodically, says Columbia professor emerita and Mellon
Foundation Vice President Harriet Zuckerman, but such collaborations haven't
happened easily or often. Zuckerman, a sociologist, collaborated with genetics Nobelist Joshua Lederberg in a long-term
study examining the presence of necessary elements for scientific discovery in relation to the
timing of such discoveries. The Mellon Foundation currently funds several programs that knit
the social and physical sciences together, including an American Institute of Physics study of how multidisciplinary
collaborations work and how to preserve the documentation that future historians of science
will need to analyze them. Another is a study by Harvard historian Peter Galison on the
meaning of authorship in the humanities and the sciences.
Global environmental change is also triggering a deepening dialogue between scientists and
religious leaders. Two years ago Lubchenco attended the "Revelation and Environment" conference sponsored by the patriarch of the Orthodox Church, who has
recognized environmental degradation -- sin against creation -- as a new category of sin. A second symposium in the fall of
1997 will bring Orthodox, Muslim, and Jewish leaders together with scientists, with the aim of
incorporating scientific knowledge into emerging religious doctrines of environmental
stewardship.
Another form of detente is being encouraged by the Society for Literature and Science
(SLS). Founded in the mid-1980s, the society has about 800 members, according to past
president Stephen Weininger, professor of chemistry at Worcester Polytechnic Institute. The group was organized
by members of the literature and science section of the Modern Language Association who
wanted to increase their contact with scientists, Weininger says, but believed there was "no
hope of getting any reasonable number of scientists to join the MLA." The SLS now boasts a
number of scientist members but still falls short of its hope of major participation by
scientists. Weininger thinks that part of the difficulty stems from "the kinds of problems you
have in cross-cultural communication."
Misunderstandings between scientists and humanists, stretching at least as far back as the
Scientific Revolution, are grounded in the polarization between objectivism (which assumes
that the real world out there is unmediated by human conceptual constructs or perceptual
limitations, and is knowable at least in part by humans) and relativism (which suggests that all
knowledge is situated in a matrix of, and influenced by, exactly such constructs and
limitations). "There are a good number of my scientific colleagues who believe that if you're
not a complete realist, you're a total relativist," Weininger says. On the other hand, he adds, "I
think that my humanist colleagues understand objectivity differently as something that
reasonable, rational people would all agree on, but a lot of people would question whether we
can ever make an appeal to something totally outside ourselves. Scientists are sometimes
upset or shocked or insulted by some of this."
Thus relations between humanities and science still threaten to founder on deep conflicts
about the nature of knowledge: Is the world an open textual game or a jigsaw puzzle with only
one solution? Does knowledge arise only from rigorous logic and empirical test, or may it also
result from reflection, revelation, inspiration, and embodied metaphor? If there is an answer,
it is probably not simply "yes" or "no." It may be that after centuries of alienation, the
conditions of the modern world are forcing the objectivist and subjectivist
poles to bend toward each other. As Zuckerman says, "The nature of scientific problems drives
cooperation and cross-disciplinary research in a way that preference and good will do not. It
isn't simply that people want to work together; it's the problem that requires it."
Women and Scientific Literacy:
bridging the "geek
gap"
Few scholars would insist that attempts to create dialogue between the
sciences and other scholarly pursuits ought to target women because
their interests constitute a separate "discipline" from the sciences.
However, a stereotype that women are more at home in the humanities
has been hard to eradicate, and women's participation in science --
not to mention their career advancement -- remains far below that of
men. In an effort to make science more attractive to women, the American Association of Colleges and
Universities has selected Barnard College to
participate in its three-year Women and Scientific Literacy
initiative.
With funds from the National Science
Foundation, Barnard and nine other institutions will develop a
variety of curriculum changes in science and engineering courses as
well as women's studies. The goal is to incorporate new scholarship
from women's studies into the science curricula and vice versa.
Physics and astronomy professor Laura Kay is among the leaders of the
Barnard program. Kay holds dual undergraduate degrees from Stanford in physics and feminist
studies and has taught both for nearly a decade. She decided at age 13
to become a scientist, she says, in contrast to many of the students
she works with at Barnard, who tend to discover science at the college
level.
"I fit the profile of the young geek who watched moon landings and
'Star Trek,''' Kay says. Attending a New York City high school for
gifted girls, she "didn't know much about the real world," she says.
"When I went to Stanford, where within the first quarter of advanced
freshman physics I was the only woman left, I think it was at that
point that I became a feminist."
The Barnard program will approach the grant's goals in several ways. A
monthly faculty seminar will allow intensive reading and discussion on
women and science and will create a resource center of academic
materials. The standard introductory biology course will include
issues in AIDS research, such as how HIV affects women and men
differently, and beginning this fall Prof. Ruth McChesney will teach a
new course on women and health. Quantitative and statistical analysis
courses in biology and the social sciences will replace data sets
based solely on male subjects with sets including women. Women's
studies courses will examine feminist epistemological and
philosophical debates about science by such scholars as Sandra Harding
and Donna
Haraway.
Kay is excited about these initiatives because gender studies has
traditionally focused more closely on the humanities and social
sciences. She notes little empirical support for the much-debated
notion that as women are integrated into the theory and practice of
science, science itself will change. In fact, recent work by Sonnert
and others suggests that "motivation and methodologies" of women
scientists do not differ significantly from those of men scientists.
"It's dangerous to make essentialist arguments," Kay says. "By
expanding the circle of scientists and bringing in people of different
backgrounds, that will improve science." -- Valerie
Brown
|
1 On Human Nature (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1978). 2
"Quotable: George Steiner," Chronicle of Higher Education, June 21, 1996, p.
B6.
VALERIE
BROWN is a free-lance science and environmental journalist based in Portland,
Ore. She has written for Environmental Health
Perspectives, 21stC, and
numerous other publications.
