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ERRORS: Consequences of Big Mistakes
in the Natural and Social Sciences

Volume 72 No. 1 (Spring 2005)
Gerald Holton, Guest Editor
Arien Mack, Editor


Table of Contents Notes on Contributors Guest Editor's Introduction
Editor's Introduction
Ordering information


Guest Editor's Introduction
At first blush, “science” and “error” seem to be polar opposites— the one a heroic pursuit of provable and widely sharable truths, the other a miserable exemplar of human frailty. The very definition of the two terms mirrors that polarity, with the august Oxford English Dictionary declaring science to be “knowledge acquired by study; acquaintance with or mastery of any department of learning.” Error is defined as “the holding of mistaken notions or beliefs” and, the OED adds, solemnly, “a departure from moral rectitude; a transgression, wrong doing.” Even viewed historically, the two concepts have long dwelled in opposite quadrants of respectability. The exposure, especially in the early seventeenth century, that ancient wisdom was riddled with fundamental flaws, provided the warrant for newborn science to grow soon into a veritable juggernaut—as elegantly set forth in the first of the essays in this volume.

That success led many scientists and philosophers, especially in Germany, to a view of their calling, cresting in the first half of the nineteenth century but persevering much longer, which amounted to a quasi-religious amplification of science, a form of sacralization. At its height it was said explicitly to endow scientists with the role of “priests of nature,” laboring in the “Temple of Science,” where they worked on the temple’s completion so as to make it representative of the scientific model of the world itself. That self-imposed service was generally traced back metaphorically to the demands of the temple’s chief goddess, Isis, the mother of the universe, who had presided over the beginning of civilization in ancient Egypt and therefore stood forwisdom itself. In that context, a scientist’s error would be equivalent to heresy.

The use of such language by some of the most eminent scientists of the day, even into the early part of the twentieth century, such as Wilhelm Ostwald’s “Science takes the place of the divine,” now seems uncomfortable at the very least. But it was in good part an attempt to help establish the standard norms of scientific conduct while also inoculating science against those who for various reasons were hostile to what they perceived to be the triumphalist assumption of an overarching epistemological authority by science.

But ironically, all along, and to this very day, scientists have known in their very bones that this elevating metaphor is quite at odds with the actual pursuit of scientific research. To be sure, in those moments when the work at last succeeds, the ensuing euphoria makes the pain endured during all the intermediate steps seem worth it, and even an analogy to a religious experience may assert itself.

But on the way to those rare eureka moments, practitioners of science know well that the path is strewn with hurdles and pitfalls, costly detours, with minor and major blunders and gremlins in the experimental equipment or in the theoretical presuppositions. The search may be so long and tedious, so demanding on one’s energy and spirit, that one of the persistent words in scientists’ private correspondence is “despair.” As Stephen Gould once remarked about some biological research, “Over 90 percent of the day’s work generally turns out to be for naught, and then you still have to clean out the mouse cage.” A perhaps more elegant way to put this perception is that of Goethe’s Faust, who discovers that human affairs are constantly apt to be misdirected owing to the innate dialectic by which each positive advance has to battle with the “spirit that ever negates.”....

Gerald Holton
Guest Editor

Read Gerald Holton's complete introduction

Editor's Introduction
When I first began to discuss the theme of “errors” with my coeditor for this special issue, Gerald Holton, the question arose as to whether the kinds of “fruitful” mistakes that occur in the natural sciences also occur in the social sciences. While the degree of resemblance between the natural and social sciences has long been the subject of discussion within the social sciences themselves, I do not think the question has been much discussed in these particular terms. Since this issue of Social Research attests to the presence of fruitful errors in the natural sciences, we invited several distinguished social scientists to address the question of whether such errors occur in the social sciences.

Many of the social scientists from whom I initially requested advice pointed out that, unlike physical laws in the natural sciences, “laws” in the social sciences—if there are any—are often contingent and change as the social and cultural contexts change. In addition, two of the respondents pointed out, I think correctly, that the primary problem in the social sciences is not so much the validity of the claims of social scientists, which may or not be correct, but rather the consequences of those claims for social policies. An obvious instance of this was Cyril Burt’s claim about genetic differences in intelligence, which led to discriminatory immigration rules and other bad social policy.

Fortunately for us at Social Research despite the general consensus that “fruitful” errors were not characteristic of the social sciences, several distinguished social scientists agreed to explore the question of errors in the social sciences and have written interestingly about it for this issue. These articles stand as illuminating complements to the articles by historians of the natural sciences that also appear, and clarify errors in the social sciences and have written interestingly about it for this issue. These articles stand as illuminating complements to the articles by historians of the natural sciences that also appear, and clarify one more dimension on which the social and natural sciences differ.

Arien Mack
Editor

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