The man on the street gets his science from the newspapers and gets his philosophy of science from the electrician who has been called in to soup up the house circuits. This is a deplorable situation, and I have determined to rectify it. I wrote to Dave Susskind offering to go on his program (solo) and explain science; but he appears to be booked solid and I'll have to find another outlet. I've therefore written a series of questions and answers in lieu of a live show. These answers do not explain what science is — a very hard thing to do — but, rather, explain what our attitude toward science should be. This is easier, and far more important, anyway. Here. then is the latest word on the topic; and I don't expect to have to alter my opinions for at least a year or two.

What is science?

Science is the human activity that includes what goes on at the Institute for Advanced Studies, Cape Canaveral, and at the corner filling station. It is practiced and pursued in millions of universities, schools, laboratories, businesses, homes, hospitals, expeditions, surveys, etc. Distinctions are frequently made between pure science and applied science; science and technology; physical science, biological science, and social science; science and mathematics. These distinctions are occasionally useful. The boundaries of science are both flexible and vague. It is not always possible to tell what is or isn't scientific activity. I shall not refuse to hide, from time to time, behind these ambiguities.

How important is science in the life of the nation?

There have been civilizations whose main business has been religion, and there have been civilizations whose main business — as Calvin Coolidge pointed out — has been business. It would appear that the main business of this country will soon be science.

Is science good for business?

Is science necessary for security?

Social and economic problems can be solved through science. Comment.

To some extent. If one can consider the universe from the elementary particles to the galaxies, as an abstract entity, there seem to be no problems. The universe and all that it contains merely "is". What happens in the universe merely "happens". But men, strange creatures that they are, perceive certain configurations in the universe as problems; and their object is to change these configurations into more felicitous ones. When they have accomplished this, other configurations come to the front which are labelled as problems. Man is a problem seeking animal, and his science solves one set of problems and transforms them into other problems.

Can science lead to happiness?

Science can lead to happiness. It can also lead to unhappiness. It can lead to plenty. It can lead to want (such as want of fresh air or water). Science can lead to non-science and to nonsense. Science can lead anywhere, and it can lead nowhere.

Does science unravel the riddle of the universe?

This is certainly one of the most advertised aspects of science: the secrets of Venus revealed, deciphering the genetic code, inside the atom, and many others. But when one takes the long look at the so-called explanations science provides, they turn out not to be explanations at all, but merely descriptions of how things work. Science does not unravel the riddle of the universe. Science reveals the riddle of the universe.

Is necessity the mother of invention?

With equal frequency, the reverse is true: invention is the mother of necessity.

Do you think there can be only a certain amount of science?

On the contrary, there can be as much science as we care to create. But my evidence for this is shaky. Think of the myriads of permutations and combinations of pitch, quality, and rhythm that we call music. Scores of new compositions are written each month, and saturation never seems to occur. Or does it?

We are moving from a period of scientific poverty to scientific affluence, and the problem here, as in economics, is what to do with the abundance.

Is there any limit to what science can accomplish in its own domain?

Subject to certain restrictions that are only imperfectly understood, there appears to be no limit to what science can accomplish. Once this is understood, the value of any particular accomplishment becomes less.

Does science know where it is going?

Science is progress. Comment.

Science is transformation.

Are the planned programs of science important?

Long range planning is impossible, and when it comes to short range planning, I think it is just as easy to plan a lemon as a peach. But there is one mitigating circumstance. It is hard to do something intensively and not learn from it. If, to steal a phrase from E.B. White, we were to set up a crash course to teach rhinoceroses to water ski, or, as Jonathan Swift imagined, to extract sunbeams from cucumbers, a tremendous amount would be learned. We would then have the option of filing it away as dead knowledge or of taking it from there and extending the results to hippopotamusses and squash.

It is important that science schould be carried out at the greatest possible speed. Comment.

What do you think of going to the moon an the planets?

Is there a scientific method?

Is science rational?

This is a piece of wishful thinking. Mathematics is the prime example of a scientific subject which ment have hoped to reduce to a completely rational basis. But attempts to do so have fallen flat on their backs. The irrational and the mumbo-jumbo aspects of science have not been adequately catalogued nor sufficiently appreciated. The basis of faith that underlies science has only recently begun to be understood.

Is science materialistic?

When you're shopping for a television set, it appears to be materialistic, but if you've just attended a course of lectures on theoretical physics, you may change your mind.

Does scientific knowledge constantly increase?

Ideally, I suppose, it does. But it works out somewhat differently. A vast amount has been discovered that is stored away in books and reports as dead knowledge. No one knows this material, and no one is likely to read up on it in the near future. This state of affairs is as true in technology as it is in theoretical science. As time goes on, knowhow is lost. If, for instance, glass were totally replaced by plastic or ships by aircraft, only a small part of the respective techniques would be recoverable from the literature.

There are several ways in which knowledge can be viewed. The first way is that knowledge is a mine of precious ore to be discovered and worked. The second way is that knowledge is like pretty designs made with colored slips of paper. I believe the second view is becoming increasingly relevant, and it means that comprehension of the entire body of mined knowledge becomes less important.

Are science and the arts in conflict?

Only from time to time. The sculpture of the first part of the twentieth century seems to be very warmhearted toward science. The recent junkyard school of sculpture — which is the best thing in muckraking since Lincoln Steffens — calls science to account for its sins. Much good should come of the conflict between science and art. They could be like two beams that are in partial opposition to each other and yet, together, can support a roof.

Are science and religion in conflict?

The same is true here as for the arts.

Religion has tended to fight a batle along jurisdictional grounds. Science, for its part, has clung to a narrowness that seriously limits human experience. I've read a number of credos written by distinguished men of science in their later years, and have been struck by how tied their tongues are when it comes to singing the praises of the university. And the universe is, presumably, their particular bailiwick.

Do you believe in God?

Yes.

Do you think that the average scientist believes in God?

I would guess that the majority of scientists in this country believe in God. I also have the impression that most scientists try to maintain two watertight compartments of thought, one for science and one for religion. Of course, this is really impossible. When the scientific part takes a look at the religious part, the scientist is an agnostic. Religious dogmas apear false or unproven or meaningless, occasionally useful and occasionally harmful. Religious ritual may appear socially or psychologically rewarding. Religious ethics appear fine, but undistinguishable from non-religious ethics. Whether this point of view distinguishes the scientist from the average citizen, I wouldn't want to say.

Despite this, the scientist, in his science, works from a platform of faith, largely unexpressed. He believes in scientific dogmas that he knows may be false, unproved, or meaningless. He goes through a scientific ritual life which is of some use, and his scientific ethics are primitive.

Why are you "in science"?

I'm in science because I enjoy the work, and I've found I can make a living at it. I hope I can make a contribution to it. As for the gem-like flame of curiosity and devotion that is supposed to burn in the hearts of scientists, I'm aware of mine only sporadically. And it's more like a candle in the wind than a pilot in a gas stove.

What do you like about science?

Science appeals to the mind.

What don't you like about science?

Science ignores the heart.

Are scientists crazy?

In some ways, a scientist is saner than his neighbor. But his view of the universe is different and this difference is commonly interpreted as craziness. Ditto for the artist. Ditto for the tailor.

I don't worry much about the run of the mill crazy people. But when I go to bed at night and say my prayers, in addition to the usual things, I say: God save us from all the zealots.

Scientists are ignorant, except in their own field. Comment.

They are frequently ignorant, and why make an exception for their own field?

Does science have a monopoly on truth?

Nobody, but nobody, has a monopoly on truth.

Is science hard to do?

I don't think so. If you look at the millions of people that make a living at it, the thousands of scientific innovations each year, the hundreds of thousands of professional articles that are written each year, it becomes clear that science is not hard to do.

It is hard to be a virtuoso, hard in the sense that virtuosity is rare. This applies to St. Simon Stylites sitting atop a pillar or to Einstein producing relativity.

Has science fostered illusions?

The principal illusion fostered by science is that science can be done in an ivory tower in such a way that it has no bearing on people. This leads to the principle of freedom of inquiry for scientists, that the search for scientific truth is sacrosanct. The ivory tower never really existed, but this has become strikingly apparent only in the last fifty years.

If political freedom must be won in every generation, the same is true of freedom of inquiry, and it will be won only if science admits its human responsibilities.

How do you view the feelings of social responsibility among scientists?

Scientists feel as much but probably no more social responsibility as their neighbors. This is terrible. Each occupation ought to feel responsibility in direct proportion to the ability of that occupation to change the fabric of life. A recent example of lethargy came to my attention. Automatic computers are surely an invention that will change matters rapidly. And yet a group within a professional society to study the social implications of computers and automation has foundered.¹

Are you satisfied with the college education of scientists?

No. I believe too much emphasis is placed upon science and not enough on the humanities. And it's going to get worse before it gets better.

Civilization ought to start in again, without science. Comment.

Do you believe that scientific values are permanent?

Do you mean by this that science is here to stay? I think that people could easily get bored with science and relegate it to a relatively minor position even while drawing on it constantly. My umbrella stand in the vestibule comes to mind. It makes things pleasant for me, but my life does not, in any sense, revolve about it.

What do you think of institutionalized science?

I'm worried by the use of the gothic arch as the architectural motif for the science building in the 1962 Seattle Fair. One could make quite a case that science is becoming an established religion with priests and levites, tithes (or better), secret languages, heavens, hells, and salvation.

Does philosophy follow science?

It can work either way. Some modern philosophers have followed science. Some sciences (as in Russia lately) have followed philosophy. When science follows philosophy, it can produce bad science; when philosophy follows science, it can produce bad philosophy.

How do you envision the science of the future?

The miraculous discoveries and applications that science will make in the future interest me less and less as things in themselves; after all, the miraculous has become commonplace in my lifetime. I am more interested in the role that science will play in the lives of men. I would like to [see] science as akin to art, with the scientist using the raw materials of the universe to reveal the wonders of the universe. I would like to see science adding to the human stature of human beings and transforming them neither into gods nor into mechanisms.

I recall seeing carved on the facade of one of our leading public libraries the words ``Knowledge is Power''. This is a quotation from John Stuart Mill, and the words are undoubtedly true. But if they are interpreted as a directive to mankind, they are highly immoral. The job of the next century is to change these words into:

Knowledge is art; knowledge is worship.

You seem to have said a number of contradictory things. Is that scientific?

Yes, indeed. Creation originates in contradiction.

¹ This presumably refers to the plan in 1968-70 to dissolve the ACM SICSIC [Association of Computing Machinery, Special Interest Committee on the Social Implications of Computing]. This met with widespread protest and the Committee continued, under the changed name "Special Interest Group in Computers and Society". See Janet Toland, "SIGCAS in the early days: a history from 1967 to 1985," ACM SICCAS Computers and Society, 46:3. Thanks to Vasant Honavar for pointing this out.

This unpublished piece was written by my father Philip Davis, presumably around 1968-1970 (see footnote 1). I have corrected one or two typos, but otherwise made no changes (except perhaps accidentally). In particular, my father consistently used "he" in its various forms as an impersonal pronoun, which was common then; he of course did not at all wish to suggest that it should be assumed that a scientist is a man. For any questions regarding the piece, please contact Ernest Davis at davise@cs.nyu.edu