I see a lot of people talking about #science as a #religion, or the closely related idea of “#scientism,” the purported ideology that says science is the only way to know things. Oh, I’m not talking about you, they’ll solemnly assure anyone who objects. Naturally you know better. Just … you know … them. Those people, out there. The great unwashed. On the #internet, nobody knows how long it’s been since you took a shower.
You know what I hardly ever see? The phenomenon in question.
There are people who think that way. Yes. Ideologues of science—hardly if ever #scientists themselves—who invoke The #Scientific Method™ (that’s a whole ‘nother rant) as the be-all and end-all justification for whatever nonsense they spew. Such posts and comments have crossed my feed a time or two. But they are vastly outnumbered by those who complain about them, at least where I can see both groups. I have no reason to believe my experience is atypical in this regard.
As a scientist myself, I think science is a very good way to understand certain things. In my field, it’s the best way to know what makes you sick, and hopefully what will make you better. There are other ways to learn these things, sure, and many of them can be useful places to start. If you don’t end up with a #clinical #trial sooner or later, you’re as likely to kill as cure.
To know what we’re seeing when we look up at the lights in the sky. How the natural world around us, of which we’re a part whether we like it or not, changes and how we both affect and are affected by that change. What came before us, and what might come after. The fundamental building blocks of reality. All these require science for real understanding. If you try to puzzle them out any other way, you may learn something, but you’ll also fill your head with a lot of nonsense. Sorting the wheat from the chaff later is a lot harder than doing it right the first time.
Other questions are at least amenable to scientific inquiry, although that process itself may not be enough. What my fiancee does as a #historian looks, to me, a lot like what I do as a #biomedical #researcher. Make observations, construct #hypotheses, gather evidence, test and revise. (And revise, and revise, and …) But #history vanishes every minute. What’s left is always fragmentary, and shaped by the interactions of modern minds with those long since gone to dust. There will never be an objective truth, only the truest story that can be told.
And then there are things beyond any kind of quantitative analysis, or even rigorous qualitative description. We may be able to agree on what makes a true story, more or less, but what makes a good one? That’s inherently personal. A happy marriage, a tasty meal, a satisfying job—only we can define what these goals mean for ourselves. Science may at best, occasionally, provide vague guidelines. Even then, my advice will not determine your experience.
My perspective is unusual in one key way, sure: not too many people do science for a living, at least not compared to other jobs. With regards to the way people talk about science, I think it’s not unusual at all, except maybe that I pay particular attention.
The division above—things that clearly belong in science’s domain, things that clearly don’t, and a whole bunch in the middle—is a whole lot more common than the idea of science as the One True. It’s at least somewhat more common than blanket rejection of science too, but not as much as it should be. That’s also a rant for another time.
Which all makes me wonder what people who never miss a chance to bring up “scientism” and science-as-religion get out of it.
We did a thing, and I wrote about it: At the beginning of February, we held a transcription sprint for 
En préparation d'un séminaire pour la semaine prochaine, un petit billet sur mon carnet Hypotheses sur un document trouvé aux archives de Bologne et qui m'a ouvert toute une série de perspectives... 
