STS: An insider's perspective

Marianne de Laet

Scientists are not lone wolves. Rather than picturing them as individuals who break ground through personal genius and reclusive concentration, we realize that scientists collaborate in institutional contexts, with their work constrained by funding conditions and guided by shared norms and rules. From the 1930s onward, Robert Merton has done much to dismantle the "lone wolf" myth. Much of what goes on in my field, science and technology studies-or STS, represents variations on his tradition.

Although scientists live by shared values, Merton understood science in a broader sense to be value-free, unique among human endeavors in its oblivion to cultural norms, its objectivity, rationality, and generalizability. His sociology of science strengthened Snow's "Two Cultures" distinction, which enfolds controversy over which sphere provides better knowledge about the world. For objectivists, science does: Scientific method enables knowing minds to discover reality. Subjectivists reject such a strict division between knowledge and reality. For them, material reality is not ready-made, independent of the knower, waiting to be discovered; it consists of interactions (among other things, with scientists' minds).

While STS (also known as the "new sociology of science") hosts many philosophical propensities, most of its practitioners subscribe to some form of subjectivism.1 Their empirical study of scientific practice has shown that attitudes other than objectivity and rationality operate in science; that generalizability applies to some findings rather than others; and that interaction among cognitive, material, cultural, and institutional aspects constitutes the practice of science. Recognizing subjective elements in science and objective ones in the humanities, and acknowledging that these attitudes often bleed into each other, STS scholars study scientific knowledge and practice as cultural phenomena. Science influences culture, and the knowledge it generates bears that culture's marks.

An example of this approach is the laboratory study, in which STS scholars assume an anthropological role.2 Participating, while observing, in lab activities, they learn from and collaborate with scientists. They map the routines and exchanges in the lab. They show how mundane and unseen aspects of its day-to-day practices, often contingent and happenstance, find their way into its results. They document the interaction between knowledge and instruments, making the case that instruments have material impact on the knowledge that their user generates. Or they look at the resonances between lab and popular imagery, arguing that the borders between these spheres are leaky and that influences go both ways.

For STS, then, scientific culture no longer points to an intellectual space where objectivity, rationality, timelessness, and value freedom reign exclusively. Science is, rather, a human-while-material knowledge-producing enterprise, located in space and bound in time. Bound to both the cultural world and the material world that it examines, it has world-changing effect. The social and cultural configurations in which science operates are part of the world-out-there that scientific knowledge represents.

This view has not gone over well with objectivists. Whereas few take exception with the human element in the practices of science -- rules and norms by which scientists allegedly live -- STS's efforts to analyze scientific knowledge as tied to social and cultural configurations remain controversial. Opponents have misinterpreted these scholars' questions as overly critical of science, or "antiscientific," and taken their focus on interaction between knowledge and reality to attest to an antirealist position. Supposedly, for STS everything is entirely social, human-made-and thus made up. STS practitioners allegedly do not allow the external world any influence over the knowledge that science generates about that world.

This portrayal of STS as antiscientific and antirealist is based on uncareful readings of its literature and betrays profound misunderstanding of its enterprise. It comes from critics who confuse criticism with antagonism; who mistake the social for the unreal or the phantasmagorical; who think that "constructed" means "imagined"; and who misinterpret the effort to identify social, historical, or political elements in the narratives of science as a quest for its untruth.

So, what is the position of STS toward scientific truth? The truth value of scientific knowledge is not necessarily at stake for its STS researcher. Suppose, for example, one understands the big-bang theory as an origin story and a quest for grounds, analogous to the Indian creation story that explains the foundations of the world as an infinite stack of turtles. That doesn't mean that one thinks that the big-bang story is untrue, or isn't our best explanation of the origin of the universe. The fact that both narratives are exactly that-narratives-doesn't preclude them from having purchase on reality. Understanding a theory as an origin story simply doesn't refer to the question of its truth. While the researcher may be interested in the narrative structures of both stories, treating them with similar methods doesn't make them identical, equivalent, or interchangeable.

A related argument applies to STS and reality. STS scholars strive to avoid oppositions like realism/relativism and subjectivism/objectivism. They argue that the work of science contributes to the production of specific but material, solid, real, and objective worlds that cannot be interpreted differently at whim or according to cultural circumstance, but must be lived in certain ways. This argument is, again, not about the presence or absence of an "out-there" and the constraints it poses on scientific representation. It is an acknowledgment, not a denial, of the existence of a real world.

Finally, how does STS stand toward science? Critical of objectivism without being antagonistic to the scientific enterprise, collaborating with scientists in lab settings, and communicating with scientists about how to answer their questions, STS scholars attempt to provide rich and truthful stories of the practices of science, refusing to confine scientists to the objective half of the spectrum. Seen through an STS lens, scientists have a broader repertoire; many recognize this and like it. An increasing number express reluctance to identify with the objectivism favored by critics of STS,3 precisely because of its simplistic understanding of scientific practices,4 and collaborate with STS researchers precisely because STS provides rich accounts of their daily work.

The anthropologist listens to her interviewees and takes their explications seriously, but they do not dictate her interpretations. She may disagree with their philosophy yet understand them and provide useful information on them. STS is neither ventriloquist nor cheerleader nor publicist of science; its task is to understand science in all its manifestations and particularities and to reflect critically on its performance. STS researchers may arrive at different views on scientific practices than those who live those practices. If they don't share their objects' conceptual frameworks, that doesn't mean STS is philosophically bankrupt or that its conclusions are wrong. It means that it provides food for thought and reasons to talk.


Related links...

  • Virtual STS, University of California, San Diego

  • Society for the Social Study of Science

  • European Association for the Study of Science and Technology

  • History of Science Society

  • Jim Holt, "Beauty's Truth: A Defense of Scientific Elegance," on Kuhn and scientific "irrationalism," Slate

  • W. W. Cobern, "The Nature of Science and the Claims of Reason, Faith, and Relativism," presented to the 1996 annual meeting of the National Association for Research in Science Teaching, St. Louis



    1 Although STS comprises a variety of conceptualizations of the relations among knowledge, reality, and the knowable, I know of no one who subscribes to the notion that reality, outside of the knower, doesn't exist at all.

    2 See, for example, Bruno Latour and Steve Woolgar, Laboratory Life: The Construction of Scientific Facts (Princeton University Press, 1979, 1986), and Karin Knorr-Cetina, The Manufacture of Knowledge: An Essay on the Constructivist and Contextualist Nature of Science (Oxford: Pergamon, 1981).

    3 Most notably Paul Gross and Norman Levitt in Higher Superstition.

    4 See, for instance, the work of Karen Barad, Michael Flower, Emily Martin, and Richard Cone, along with Jonas Salk's introduction to Latour and Woolgar (1986).



    MARIANNE de LAET, Ph.D., is a visiting scholar in STS at Columbia's School of International and Public Affairs. Her specialty is the anthropology of science and technology; she is writing The Travel of Patents Into the Developing World. Her thesis, Fathers, Stars, and Hormones: Anthropological controversies over indigenous knowledge was published in Dutch (Utrecht: ISOR Press, 1994). Her writing has appeared in Kennis & Methode, Psychologie en Maatschappij, EASST Review, and Philosophy of the Social Sciences.