Is economics even a science?

There will be some of you who will be somewhat shocked by today's title. I think it's a legitimate question. When we reflect upon what Sheldrake presented and argued, we recognize that it is focused very much on what we call the "natural (or hard) sciences". The Queen of these is, of course, Physics, but chemistry and biology are well represented at court. Nevertheless, it is worth asking ourselves what constitutes a "science".

First and foremost, we should recall that the word "science" comes from the Latin verb scire which means "to know". Science is, then, at heart, a way of knowing. As such, it is more of a method than object. As most of us were taught in school, this method was considered the only really legitimate pathway to knowledge (and by extension, truth). The scientist came up with an hypothesis, performed experiments to confirm or refute that hypothesis, and based on the data and evidence collected through experimentation, s/he would revise the hypothesis and continue their research. Other scientists were invited to join in and contribute. In this cooperative and disciplined way, our knowledge base grew and progress was achieved. One of the strongest advantages of this approach was that if we knew what causes brought about which effects, we could make reasonable and accurate predictions. If this and this are the case, and that happens, then we would know the outcome.

A first look at economics in this light, however, makes it pale by comparison. Oh sure, you can form an economic hypothesis, but how do you perform an economic experiment without potentially endangering the well-being of a huge number of people? Breaking economic relationships down into manageable pieces in order to perform experiments, however, so changes the nature of those relationships that they no longer are valid for making predictions based on the outcomes. So, economics is certainly not a science in the same sense that physics, biology or chemistry are sciences.

Economics, then, was forced down a very different path. At best, it could attempt to objectively observe economic phenomena and then based on those observations, derive and formulate theories that would explain them. If this and that condition arose in a market, then one could predict what the consequences would be. Unfortunately, economics' hit rate was far lower than that of the natural sciences. It is not just that economic phenomena are perhaps more complex than physical, biological or chemical ones ... and we can well imagine how complex many of these are ... rather, there were too many factors that could affect the outcomes, not the least of which was the highly unpredictable role that people play in these situations. Humans are particularly good at surprising even themselves and doing something totally unexpected. That makes life for the economist particularly difficult.

This doesn't mean that there's nothing to salvage here and that we should just toss economics out the window. Given the role it plays in our lives, there must be a way of dealing with it, and I believe we can find some sound common ground upon which to stand. What this is and what it means for economics in particular, however, we'll look at next time.

More on science's delusion

There are many phenomena in the world, many experiences that we all have had (and will continue to have) that the scientific, materialistic worldview cannot and will not be able to explain. Any probability specialist worth his or her salt will tell you that the Universe isn't old enough in seconds to account for the random combination of anything into anything looking the least bit like life, let alone what we know as human life. The mere fact that the known visible universe only accounts for 4% of the matter and energy that there should be (according to physicists' calculations) leaves the experts stumped. Today's science can't tell you how we can see, how any of our senses really work, how thoughts and memories are generated or stored, or, most importantly, why we're even conscious at all. To some current philosophers of mind, consciousness is simply an illusion: it shouldn't be there, we don't know how it got here, so in essence, we should just ignore it. It doesn't matter because it isn't matter. I don't know about you, but I can't help but feel that the flat earth is not far behind. Two-thousand years of "scientific" and philosophic inquiry and that's all we have. Not an outstanding show.

The problem with basing "science" on these dogmas, as Sheldrake calls them, is that what most of us naively understand science to be isn't really practiced anymore. When I was going to school, we were told that science was a rigorous, structured way of exploring, testing, and validating the world. It conducted experiments, collected data and facts and combined them into theories that could further be tested, validated or falsified. When enough data was collected that no longer fit with the existing explanation, the theory was revised, new hypotheses were formulated and everyone moved forward again. Unfortunately, that is not always the case any longer. Not all questions worth asking are even permitted to be asked. It's sad really, because we are limiting ourselves before we even start. When certain questions are simply out-of-bounds, you have to start asking yourself "why"? At least I know that I do.

The parallels to the Church of the Middle Ages are overwhelming: the sun revolves around the earth/everything consists of matter; the earth is flat/there is no goal or purpose to existence; the cosmos is eternal/mass and energy are conserved. No questions necessary. The answers have been conveniently predetermined. And, the powers that control these answers see to it that even nascent challenges are simply nipped in the bud.

Sheldrake's point is that we must now rise up and resist the dogma. If we want to know what is what, we need to challenge the established orthodoxy. We need to demand that science live up to its true nature, that it, once again, become a way of knowing and understanding the world and everything in it. There can't be unaskable questions. Any question that can be asked deserves an answer ... or at least the reasonable, sensible search for one.

And so, the next time, we'll take a similar look at "the dismal science", economics, to see how it measures up.

Science's delusion

Let's start by taking a look at Sheldrake's case.

It may seem odd casting the august notion of science into the guise of religion, but it appears that this is precisely what has happened. As Sheldrake points out, challenging these articles will ensure that you receive no funding for your research. You will be excluded from conferences, you won't get your papers published, and if you insist on pursuing this heretical path, you will eventually be excluded from the community ... what the Church called Excommunication.

The institution that perpetuates this belief, that is the Keeper of Its Keys, of course, is the modern university. Godwin (1986) has drawn a poignant parallel between the role played by the Church in the Middle Ages and the role played by The Academy today, complete with rites, rituals and regalia that reflect the pomp and power of those deemed worthy to go forth into the world to be "experts"; that is, purveyors of the True Faith.

Some of you will take this for an exaggeration, but try obtaining grants for your research without the right papers and credentials, try gaining acceptability and respectability without the proper sigils and seals. You might have the cure for cancer in your head, but without the proper documents, authorizations and blessings of the Key Keepers, you will remain a non-descript, unknown novice, who will long have been forgotten before you were ever really known. Yes, there are vested interests involved, and they broach no rebellion.

It would be worthwhile, I believe, to at least list these ten Articles, for while I will not have time to deal with them individually in detail, they do establish a reasonable and comprehensible starting point for uncovering their true nature. On pages 7 and 8 of Sheldrake's book, he lists them (and discusses them in detail throughout the rest of the text), and I'll state them only briefly here:

1. Everything is essentially mechanical.
2. All matter is unconscious.
3. The total amount of matter and energy is always the same.
4. The laws of nature are fixed.
5. Nature is purposeless and evolution has no goal or direction.
6. All biological inheritance is material.
7. Minds are inside heads and are nothing but the activities of brains.
8. Memories are stored as material traces in brains and are wiped out at death.
9. Unexplained phenomena such as telepathy are illusory.
10. Mechanistic medicine is the only kind that really works.

Two things are immediately apparent. First, Sheldrake, being a biologist and chemist by trade, has focused on what we would call the "natural sciences", not necessarily science in general. Second, the philosophy of science that he is challenging is called "materialism". The idea is that everything ... absolutely everything ... can be explained in terms of the laws of physics and chemistry, for the most part. If it isn't anchored in matter, it can be ignored. Genes are responsible for heredity, mutated genes are responsible for differences over generations, everything happens by random chance, and that's it. Unfortunately, that's not it at all.

And that's where we'll pick up next time.

References
Godwin, Joscelyn (1986) "Priests, Professors, & Gurus: When the Academy is a Church the Hermetic Professor becomes a Heretic", Gnosis Magazine, No. 2, Spring/Summer, pp. 35-38.

Sheldrake, Rupert (2012) The Science Delusion: Freeing the Spirit of Enquiry, Hodder & Stoughton Ltd., London.

Seeds of delusion

The observant reader will have noticed that over the last few posts, a certain theme continually recurs, namely that too often we only think we know things when in fact we merely believe that things are a certain way. This error is much more widespread than we generally assume. The reason for it, however, is rather simple and straightforward, and I have been stating it in various ways throughout these posts as well. To put it another way, we fall into the belief trap when we fail to question our own "givens", when we do not question the assumptions we make. Whatever we take for granted, we think is, well, just however it is, that it is clear, obvious, even commonsensical, when, truth be told, it is none of these things.

Let me make myself perfectly clear. All of us assume that certain things are simply a certain way. We don't think about them, we don't question them, we just pick them up and run with them. I am convinced that in our current state of development as human beings, there are some things we just can't know. We can only assume, but the difference between the masses and the thinking individual is that the latter has taken the time, expended the energy and become aware of what it is that s/he is assuming, believing, identifying as their own starting point for their point-of-view. In other words, what is needed more and more is that we make ourselves aware of just where it is we ourselves are coming from. It may not be an easy task, but it is a worthwhile one, to be sure.

On this particular note, I was recently, reading Rupert Sheldrake's insightful critique, The Science Delusion (published in the USA as Setting Science Free). He advances the thesis that the current edifice of "science" is built upon the foundation of ten unchallengeable "dogmas" that establish the framework and the ground rules for what is acceptable and legitimate. Rather than being incontrovertible facts, or truths, these are in fact, assumptions lacking basis in fact. They are, if you will, the "givens" which form the starting point of all inquiry. They must be accepted, they may not be challenged, for doing so relegates the perpetrator to the fringes of the scientific establishment. In a word, they are Modern Science's Ten Articles of Faith. (Sounds famililar, doesn't it?)

Well, what I would like to do over the course of the next few posts is to pick up on Sheldrake's critique but extend it to the so-called science of economics. This particular "science" has taken over center stage in all of our lives. We are now living in a thoroughly economized world. Economics and economic thought permeate every aspect of our existence. The economic argument is the killer argument, regardless of the topic, and the currently accepted school of thought, neoliberalism, has, like science itself in more general terms, turned itself into something of a religion. There are certain doctrines that they hold to be true and inviolable, even if, at bottom, they are mere assumptions masquerading as fact. They are not only beliefs, they are unconscious beliefs. My goal will be to explore the parallels and perhaps seek some possible solutions for the future.

We'll get down to business, so to speak, next time.

Reference
Sheldrake, Rupert (2012) The Science Delusion: Freeing the Spirit of Enquiry, Hodder & Stoughton Ltd., London.

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble

That line from Shakespeare (Macbeth) popped into my head today. I was coming home from the grocery store, I had already been to the barber, the baker, and dry cleaner. Just all part of an everyday grind, nothing special, but it was a lot of interaction with a good number of my fellow citizens, and I'm sure you can imagine that the "toil and trouble" part was more than apparent. Truth be told, I was thinking about this blog and it was that which brought be to the bubble and, ultimately, Macbeth. I've always liked that line. I always thought the witches in that play were smarter and more insightful than most of the other characters. At least they gave some thought to what was coming down the road.

The idea of using an advanced medium to enhance one's capabilities has been around for some time. Yes, managing fire to heat a vessel of fluid to achieve some kind of end took on a different form during the Industrial Revolution, but using technology for communication purposes has a rather long history as well. For the witches it was a cauldron. For us, it's the Internet.

Macbeth was about the deeds willing to be done on the way to kingly power. We democratized ourselves in the meantime (or at least we like to tell ourselves we have), and it was the Internet -- for those of your old enough to remember -- that was going to shift the balance of power from top to bottom. The Internet leveled hierarchies. We were all in it together, and no one single entity or person was in charge. True equality had been achieved. At least that was the theory.

My first excursion into this realm was in the late 80s, early 90s. You had to type in commands on a black screen to do anything: get your modem going, login to a provider, move to other computers to get files, or negotiate your way to the myriad forums on what was then called Usenet. It was a dark, anonymous realm, but the interactions were serious, sometimes intense, often fun. Not responding to what someone else said was considered unacceptable. If you had nothing to contribute, you were told so. Communication was most often short, direct, to-the-point. Of course, being humans, netizens of the day many discussions degenerated into flame wars (hostile, insulting, often profanity-laced interactions), which were certainly not for the faint of heart. But often ended in some reference to Nazis or Hitler, oddly enough (see Godwin's Law).

No, these were not the "good old days", they were just the "old days". What was different from today, however, is two-fold: it was interactive and heterogenous. By interactive, I mean simply that statements were taken seriously, challenged and responded to. There was give-and-take, back-and-forth. By heterogenous, I mean that the participants were from diverse cultures and backgrounds, with varying interests and intellectual capabilities. As everything transpired via text (no picture, no visuals at all), there were also oddities like full sentences, questions, and not a few well-turned phrases.

This all changed in the mid-90s though with the coming of the Web. The visualizations and the ability to put everything into bright, blinking, colors did its part to kill discussion, but with the rise of so-called social networks and specialized communities, it is too easy these days to simply find one's own kind and retreat. Both the intellectual interaction and the heterogeneity have been eliminated. We can find, or create, our own little bubbles in which to exist and which will not be disturbed by the big, bad world "out there". And it is those bubbles that are at the root of too many toils and trouble.

Flawed in our thinking?

You may be getting the impression that I'm suggesting we humans are basically flawed in our thinking. This is not the case at all. I have little to present against how we think, but I'm fairly certain that we are not as aware of our own (and others') thinking as we should be. A little awareness can go a long way.

And that, I believe, is our most fundamental, general problem: we're simply unaware of too much, above all who we ourselves are, what we believe and, most importantly, why we believe whatever that is. There are a lot of things that seem like a good idea at the time. How many of us have awakened one morning full of regret for doing "what seemed like a good idea at the time"? How many of us have looked back at our past and realized when it was that we took that less than optimal turn in life and realize that, well, "it seemed like a good idea at the time"? One of our advantages (evolutionary and otherwise) as human beings is that we can imagine. We can play out different scenarioes in our heads, we can envision consequences of actions and decisions. We can also reflect on our own wishes and desires, and we can learn about others' as well and reflect on how they work with, or against, our own. But, we don't do that very often. Instead, we tend to be impulsive, reactive, knee-jerking actors in a drama whose plot is completely unknown to us. Too often our decisions are being made in our spinal columns, not in our brains.

This is unfortunate, not only for the actor but also for whomever else is affected by those actions. Part of this comes from the fact that we are constantly bombarded with the means and motivation to seek instant gratification. We think we've got to have this or that now, when in fact, not only don't we need it now, we probably don't need it at all. Too often we believe that things ... possessions ... are what we need (or at least want), but shortly thereafter the thrill of the purchase is gone, it all becomes mundane again, and we're no better off than we were before. I believe a primary reason for this, for the perpetual dissatisfaction that so many of us endure, is simply because we're not so much flawed in our thinking, but rather that we simply don't think enough.

Thinking is not just about solving problems, it is also about reflection, as I have said, but it is also, I believe most importantly, about awareness ... of the world around us, ourselves, and, particularly, our own thinking. We need to stop and think about why we think the things we do. We need to explore our thoughts to their roots to see what they are based upon. We need to be honest with ourselves and identify our own prejudices (and, yes, we all have lots more of them than we might like to admit). We also need to ask ourselves why others do think like we do. It's not just because they're not as smart as we are. Maybe, just maybe, we're not as smart as we think we are.

All of this gets complicated, though, when we find ways to isolate us from those who perhaps think differently than we do. There is a great danger these days of isolating oneself to such a degree that the otherness of others can simply be eliminated. When that happens, though, we opt out of thinking altogether and we descend to the realm of pure belief. Oh, there is nothing wrong with belief per se, but pure belief is unaware belief. And being unaware is as good as being unconscious.

Humility ... what a concept

You shouldn't get the idea that I'm picking on my fellow humans. I'm not. I'm merely pointing out that I'm of the opinion that we think we're better than we are. Maybe a bit of humility would serve us well.

It's OK not to know things. None of us can know everything. Some people are good at history, others at math, others in biology, science or physics, others know a lot about how we think the mind works, but nobody knows everything. That's OK. Since we can communicate as easily as we can, we can always get insights, knowledge, and information from others, be it personally or in written or recorded form. Things are always better with a little help from our friends.

The difficulties start appearing immediately, however. How do we know if what we're being told is correct? Most often we don't, because, well, we're not experts in that field, that's why we turned to someone who knows more about than we do. To accept what we given, we have to trust the source. That's a rather large problem these days, isn't it? Trust, that is. Who can and do we trust? And why?

The closer we are to the source, the easier it is. We can see how they act, how they treat us and others, what they do in their spare time, how others see them. The farther away they are -- physically, socially, psychologically, etc. -- the greater the challenge. In these cases we have to resort to other means: reputation, personal history, evaluations by others, on the external side; and coherency and consistency of argumentation and presentation, supporting data and evidence, and the like on the internal side. It's pretty obvious that most of us aren't very well prepared for the latter, at any rate. Those items belong to the realm of critical thinking, which we all like to claim we do, but hardly ever do in reality. In fact -- and I find this especially mind-boggling -- it is actively discouraged in school these days, and some states, like Texas, have active movements to have it officially eliminated from the school curriculum. How sad is that? But how did we get to such a place?

It's pretty simple, really: like I've mentioned before -- just last time, in fact -- what we accept as true and right and proper and correct depends more than anything else on what we believe to be true and right and proper and correct. We all go into the evaluation from a biased position. Some folks are aware of this and try to adjust for it; others have no idea that they do it, so they tend to come across rather arrogant, know-it-all, or dogmatic. If you ask me, any of these last three characteristics is a dead give-away. People who really know stuff tend to be just slightlyl humble about their knowledge. They try, in any number of ways, to take the edge off their own authority. A lot of things we think we know a lot about turn out to be quite incorrect a bit farther down the road. The entire course of human history and knowledge is littered with wrecked and abandoned things-we-knew-for-sure. In my mind, the mark of a truly intelligent person lies not in how right s/he thinks s/he is, but rather is how open they are for the possibility that they might be wrong and willing they are to adapt what they think to accommodate the new data and information.

The observant reader will recognize that there is more involved here than initially met the eye. We're not talking only about knowledge, but apparently belief and attitudes need to and do play a role in what is said, and in what we are willing to accept. It's worth stopping to think about.

If nobody can save us, we might as well get real

If it's up to us, we might as well recognize that reality. That's what "getting real" really means. We're not going to do that, however. We're going to retreat into the safety of our delusions and bemoan that fact that nobody is doing anything to help, that it's someone else's responsibility not ours, that we've been left all alone.

Please forgive me if I don't get all choked up about this. I didn't make the rules, but I have always found it amazing that so many people are willing to say one thing and act differently. There is long-standing tradition in humanity to blame those below you (real or imagined), for it relieves you of having to admit you yourself are the problem. You're the problem. I'm the problem. We're the problem.

Why? Because we only believe what we want to believe. Truth doesn't mean a whole lot to us. Facts don't carry much weight. What is reasonable and makes sense is too easily discarded and replaced by visions of how we would like things to be. We like to think of ourselves as members of an educated, objective, advanced, serious society and culture. We are not. We're every bit as timid, fearful and superstitious as our forebears who we'd rather ignore and forget. After all, we're not like them at all. But we are.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking of things political or economic or anything like that. I'm talking about our most fundamental attitude towards life in general and our own lives in particular. I'm talking about basics ... the very fundamentals that allow things to be a particular way. This isn't a new theme, as many of you know. I've talked about it more times than I care to remember (or reference).

We're a strange species. Just because we have the gift of language, we tend to think if we can put a name on something, we understand it. Obviously this breaks down every time we go to the doctor's and s/he tells us what we have in terms that we can only hope s/he understands: Yes, you have a cardiovascular thrombotic resistance to nonvegetative triesters of glycerol enhanced by hyperutilization of hydrolyzable ionic compounds. Gee, why didn't I think of that? Giving something a name doesn't do any more for us than give us a way to refer to something. We most likely don't understand it, but we're pretty sure it's a "something". Isn't that comforting? Not really.

We like to think that we're sophisticated, advanced, developed, intelligent and stable. We're not. Swap out nuclear devices for fireballs launched by catapults and the only real difference is the number of other human beings that can be killed in one shot. The underlying principle is the same. It's only a difference of magnitude. What applies to war applies to every other aspect of life. Watch a film about the bushmen of the Kalahari foraging for food, then stop by your local mega-supermarket between 2:00 and 4:00 am. There's really not a whole lot of difference, and since we're moderns, we simply don't have to walk as far.

Nah, I doubt we'll be getting real anytime soon. We're far too enamored with deceiving ourselves, of thinking we know things when we don't and thereby perhaps missing the real point of it all.

Can anyone save us?

And so, it would seem we've come full circle. When we reflect back upon the last few posts, we see that none of the disciplines or institutions that we might expect to come to the rescue can or will.

Science is capable of developing deep, insightful and helpful knowledge, but if we ignore it, we do so at our own peril.

Technology can solve lots of problems, but not all problems, and it is up to us to help it decide what's worthwhile and what is not.

Politics has become beholden to special interests, but it is we, the populus who have reneged on our responsibility to get involved and keep their noses to the wheel.

It should be clear that "the market", as it is currently practiced, is simply a degenerate extension of the political sphere. Money can never be the measure of anything, but we have essentially turned it into a god in its own right.

Turning the "religious" corner, we see that Jesus showed us the way, and he admonished us to follow suit, but we've chosen to ignore that.

And God, if He exists, according to His own accounting, told us all that if we don't do it, nobody else will.

This is where is all comes together. Regardless of whether we're religious or not, believers or atheists, in the end, we're all in this together. Regardless of what we may think is true and right, at bottom, we're all in this together. When all is said and done, there is no outside force, power or agency that can, or will, suddenly step in and snatch us from the jaws of destruction.

No, if anything at all is to be done or can possibly be done, we have no choice: we -- you, me, our families, everyone we know and don't know -- are the only ones who can do anything at all.

We have already raced past the crossroads, but it may be that we can backtrack far enough to take the other road. Whether we do or not doesn't depend on anyone or anything other than ourselves. As Pogo put it so aptly so long ago, "We have met the enemy, and he is us."

If this enemy is to be defeated, however, only we can do it. Who's up for the challenge?

Can God save us?

This is the trickiest question of all. I mean, after all, the Big Guy (according to the legend) put us here, so he can take us out anytime He pleases (which he did once, according to the text: see the Story of Noah), and according to the believers, absolutely everything is in His hands. The atheists and non-theists among you will quickly retort, quite consistently, that He doesn't exist, so He isn't going to be doing anything. That may or may not be true. We cannot know for sure. Regardless of what you believe (there is or there is no God), it is simply a matter of belief. You can't prove it one way or the other. So, in one respect, this simply removes God from the equation.

There are a lot of people who believe in God or some kind of god or gods or the like. Truth be told, it is the majority of humanity. For that very reason, we cannot simply discard the God question out of hand. For that reason alone, it deserves to be taken seriously, regardless of how intolerant militant atheists can be. I certainly don't agree with a lot of people, but I do try to make an effort to understand why they think what they think and why they believe what they believe, and I am extremely hesitant to tell them flat out that their full of crap. (Unfortunately, this seems to be the preferred argumentation modus of our militant-atheist friends.)

Given the large sphere of influence of and my own upbringing within the Abrahamic Traditions, I'll restrict myself to that one perspective. (I believe, however, that mutatis mutandis everything I have to say applies outside this context as well, but that's another blog for another time.) We are told in the Good Book, Part I (Old Testament), right up front (1st book, Genesis, Chapters 1 & 2, in particular the latter) that we (that is, humankind) were put here to be the caretakers of this world. We might have screwed up and got kicked out of headquarters (the Garden of Eden), but we weren't fired; we still had the job, we just had to do it out here where all of us all. We're doing a pretty sorry job of it, too.

Granted, even God got fed up and washed the slate clean (literally), but He told us he wouldn't do that anymore, and from then on out -- according to the text -- he repeated sent this, that, or the other guy (or gal ... there are lots of stories in the Bible in which the female plays a decisive role) to remind us of what we actually should be doing. But, He told us flat out, He wasn't going to intervene so directly. The way I read the text and see the big picture, then, we've been passed the buck. The way I see how things have been developing, especially in the last couple of hundred years, though, we want to pretend like we don't have it ... never heard of it ... and that's why we are in the straits we are in. We've lost sight of our job description. We're not doing our job.