Well-Ordered Science and the Collective Good:
Issues and Inquiries for Kitcher
Danielle Tondreau
University of Michigan
Introduction
In the philosophy of science subfield, discourse amongst philosophers has largely centered about the epistemic aim of scientific inquiry and enterprise. Traditional approaches to answering questions of scientific epistemology have frequently focused on what are thought to be the fundamental or causal relations of nature, with the proponents of such positions understanding science to be an objective practice uninfluenced by values. Consequently, the epistemic aim of science has commonly been conceptualized as an attempt to bring about a fully factual, unified picture of reality.
However, in Science, Truth, and Democracy, Philip Kitcher suggests that such an overarching epistemic aim is nonexistent. Arguing from a position of modest realism, an intermediate position between empiricism and constructivism, Kitcher diverges from both the ‘scientific faithful’ and the ‘debunkers’[1]. According to Kitcher, dichotomies between the rational and social, fact and value, are incomprehensible. He suggests that science might better thought of as context-dependent, reliant on the practicing society’s interests. Thereby, Kitcher instead holds moral and social values to be intrinsic to the sciences, all the while maintaining that this view need not undermine scientific inquiry or enterprise.
Kitcher opens the way for conservative thinkers to see science as a public good. Highlighting the ways in which philosophers have focused too closely on how science serves to yield objective truths, Kitcher shifts the discussion to one centered about questions of values. Nonetheless, when science shifts from being seen as a unified, objective practice to a practice subject to societal ‘scientific significance’, normative issues are apt to arise. For instance, we might begin to wonder whether science is wholly objective and, further, if science must be such for it to be a worthwhile practice. Kitcher suggests that science need not be objective in the sense that we currently define it for it to be a purposeful, productive practice. But then how do science, society, and values relate? And where do we go from here?
In Science, Truth, and Democracy, the relationship between science and societal values is of central importance to Kitcher. Such questions concerning the aims and values of scientific research, such as the ways in which they are related to democratic ideals, are of principle interest. His attention to the real scientific practice places Kitcher’s philosophy close to what can be called the “pragmatic turn” in the philosophy of science (Diéguez 2015). In order to move away from the conflicting perspectives of the empiricists and constructivists, he discounts the belief that there is a single good towards which science is directed. Admitting a form of pluralism, in which even non-epistemic values play a role in scientific inquiry, he begins by disposing of all presently viable notions of scientific unity and purity. As Helen Longino explains in a Science and The Common Good, “it is uncontroversial that practical significance is context-dependent, but epistemic significance may be thought otherwise” (562). But this is the very controversial thesis Kitcher proposes, putting his reader in a position from which they are apt to question what collective good science ought to pursue and promote.
Having established his modest realism, Kitcher subsequently develops an ideal he deems Well-Ordered Science (WOS), which is ultimately a decision-making model for scientific inquiry. Since Kitcher understands science as contingent on individual societal interests and aims, he argues that both research agendas and applications of science ought to be under public control. His ideal of WOS thus suggests that scientific inquiry ought to be a process guided by an enlightened democratic deliberation. But this ideal seems to presuppose that we know who the individuals interests at stake are, who the “‘we’ are whose good is in question” (Longino 2002).
In this paper, drawing from Longino’s critiques of Kitcher as well as my own thought, I will argue that Kitcher’s arguments fall short in a variety of ways, namely in so far as he cannot draw a distinction between societies, or even the individuals of interest, so starkly. The line between ‘the collective’ whose good is in question is blurred, making me further question if Kitcher’s ideal is one we should be aiming to emulate at all. First, I will outline Kitcher’s position, summarizing his stance in Science, Truth, and Democracy, then continue on to question the practicality and ethicality of WOS.
Establishing Modest Realism: Scientific Significance and Pluralism
While empiricists believe that knowledge is derived from the sense-experience of interacting with a mind-independent reality, constructivists on the contrary hold that we gain knowledge by reflecting on our experiences; in other words, we construct our own understanding of the world we live in, our ‘reality’ thereby mind-dependent. Kitcher diverges from each of these positions. Instead, he acknowledges that the empiricist thought of success indicates truth, or the correspondence theory of truth, can in fact be compatible with the sort of constructivist conceptual relativity (Diéguez 2015). How so? Well, Kitcher proposes that though we may in part interact with a mind-independent nature through the practice of science, the performing scientists’ underlying theory-choice is essentially value-based.
To begin to understand this position, let us consider a claim central to Kitcher’s argument, being that “the aim of the sciences is to address the issues that are significant,” and “what counts as significant science must be understood within the context of a particular group” (59)(61). Therefore, science does not aim at ‘truth’ but rather at significant truth, which is context-dependent given a society’s interests. The question thus becomes what truths count as significant and, moreover, how they are determined. From here, Kitcher seeks to understand how scientists make important decisions about the theories that they sustain and how these decisions affect future scientific inquiry. To Kitcher, the world is partly as we make it[2].
He offers multiple motivational analogies to support his modest realist stance. As with language, he explains that there are many ways of developing concepts of things, but his position of modest realism “makes no claim that one…language…is uniquely right…at describing nature” (45). Instead, he presents that “‘ease of description’ can only be understood in relation to beings with…particular aims” (46). In other words, there are many ways to describe what consists in nature and the way in which we do so depends on our interests. However, he believes that success indicates truth, meaning we still might make sense of the notion of ‘truth’ with respect to scientific languages by witnessing successful science. Kitcher is hereby subscribing to pluralism. While different ways of dividing nature into objects might yield varying interpretations of reality—and thus “users of different schemes of representation may find it difficult to coordinate their languages”—he still believes that “the truths [these languages] enunciate are completely consistent” (47). The fact that they are not reducible does not mean that they are incompatible. Here we get our first insight into Kitcher’s dismissal of a unified, or monistic, view of science.
His second analogy, concerning the history of map-making, also serves to elucidate his modest realist pluralism. He highlights how a map’s reading conventions identify the interest of the mapmaker—for the conventions depend on the goals of the society in which the map is to be used (58). Corresponding to this thought is Kitcher’s claim that there is no good reason to believe in the possibility of an ‘ideal-atlas’—or an atlas that encompasses all of humanity’s cumulative interests (60). (NOTE: this will become important later in my refutation of his WOS ideal). If such an atlas were to exist, it would no longer be specific and would in turn lose its societal significance. Kitcher concludes that, as shown by the history of science, most scientific theories resemble maps. On the whole, they are false, even though they contain significant amounts of truth. For instance, they are not exactly to scale, and they do not represent absolutely everything in a given area. They model, picking out what is important for the purpose at hand. ‘Significant science’ can thus only be determined within the context of a particular society, with its own interests, aims, and history.
Cases Against Scientific Unity
According to Kitcher, the answer to why we seek unity is unclear since a unified picture of the world does not clearly wear worth. The motivational analogies above offer insight into Kitcher’s anti-unity thinking; however, his more explicit arguments come later. He continues to look at assumptions that support the unification of science, namely those that suggest science has a single and definite aim.
The accounts of scientific unity Kitcher opposes concern the traditional approaches to explaining epistemic significance within science. From the early modern period to Kitcher’s present, at the time of writing Science, Truth, and Democracy, that is, scientists themselves as well as philosophers of science have tried to create propositions for the epistemic aim of science that interconnect. Well-known proposals about the epistemic aim of science include: that it is to achieve objective understanding through explanations, to identify the laws of nature, to arrive at a unified picture of nature, or to discover the fundamental causal processes at work in nature. Kitcher shortens this down to surmise, “the traditional search for a context-independent conception of epistemic significance is thus committed to the idea of a systematic organization of the truths about nature from which objective explanations may be drawn” (68).
Let us consider his primary argument against such a commitment—or, against current notions of unity in science—which is focused about the Unity-of-Science movement. The Unity-of-Science movement depends on reducing the laws and concepts of the many fields of science to physics. Proponents of the Unity-of-Science movement understood quite clearly that the different sciences use special vocabularies, yet they somehow supposed there to be coordinative definitions that could link these vocabularies (69). Kitcher argues that this is not so. He thinks that amongst discrepant subfields of science the concepts underlying the terminology differ and therefore cannot be reduced into one unified language. For instance, biology and psychology seem to employ concepts that are not definable in the terms of the sciences proposed as reducing them, meaning physics. More specifically, we might recognize just how “molecular genetics tells us…about the chemical structures of individual genes, but fails to provide a general specification” (70). In short, sciences such as biology, psychology, and chemistry cannot be reduced to the language of the laws of physics and thus science cannot be unified in the way the Unity-of-Science movement proposes.
For Kitcher, the Unity-of-Science movement’s foundational thesis seems to suggest that our best future scientific enterprise ought to be monistic. He disagrees. Instead, he takes a pluralistic standpoint, thinking that our best future science is likely to be comprised of many mutually irreducible yet compatible theories—as with the case of natural languages and the history of map-making discussed in his earlier analogies. There are many ways of developing concepts of things, and his position of modest realism “makes no claim that one…language…is uniquely right…at describing nature” (45). Instead, he presents that ease of description can be understood only in relation to people with particular aims (46). In other words, there are many ways to describe what consists in nature, and the way in which we do so depends on our interests. He hereby subscribes to pluralism and in turn discredits the accounts of scientific unity, countering the claim that there is “a single unified framework” of scientific understanding (71).
Kitcher posits that, from here, a defender of context-independent goals for inquiry would need to invoke the idea of a complete causal history in order to avoid context-dependence (74). But this view is subject to two difficulties: failing to offer information being sought and underdetermination. The first issue is one of filtering, for how are we to draw out what is significant in a comprehensive narrative? Again, like the case with maps, if science were to be entirely unified it would become insignificant to independent societies. The second issue of underdetermination arises when two theories lead to the same predictions. Since we are capable of devising a complete causal narrative given any ‘truth’, Kitcher sees that “in terms of numeral frequency, all truths are on a par” (75). But he is opposed to such a situation. He holds that some truths, or theories, are in fact more accurate than others. From such issues, a unified causal history of science is unfavorable and unlikely, according to Kitcher. However, he thinks that we could escape this situation if we were to develop a different approach to what we mean when we say ‘objective explanation’. Could there not be some way for values to enter into the appraisal of scientific theory-choice in which science as a practice still maintains an objective nature? Kitcher decides, “objective explanation goes on in the sciences, then, but only against the background of our questions and interests” (75).
Kitcher claims that there are no presently viable notions of unity. To him, the only acceptable way of understanding of scientific unity is nontraditional in the sense that it simply means all scientific pursuit is alike, and somehow unified, but by that at which it is directed. In other words, scientific pursuit is unified in some sense; but his view opposes standard senses of scientific unity, in which science works to generate a single ‘Theory of Everything’, complete causal history, or something of the like. Unification to Kitcher is not synonymous with monism. He is a pluralist, who holds that pluralism need not undermine the scientific enterprise. While he believes that the subfields of science are irreducible, he still supports that science is objective in the sense that through witnessing successful science we are able to grasp the notion of ‘truth’. If we see success, Kitcher is apt to believe we are interacting with a mind-independent reality, though the situation is at bottom context-dependent since what we choose to study is ultimately based on our aims and interests.
Cases Against Scientific Purity
The idea that there is a morally relevant distinction between ‘pure’ and applied science, or between research and technology, is what Kitcher calls the ‘Myth of Purity’. This conception relies on the idea that scientific knowledge in itself overrides other values. But Kitcher counters that moral, social, and political considerations figure into judgments about scientific significance.
We have previously established that there must be a conception of ‘theoretical’ or ‘epistemic’ significance that will mark out those truths of knowledge that are intrinsically valuable since linking significance to practical projects ignores areas of inquiry we must consider, such as “cosmology and paleontology”—and context-independent notions of epistemic significance seem to shield science from social and moral values that are in reality intrinsic to the practice (65). Such is the case with the Myth of Purity. This thesis entails that scientific research itself—as distinct from technology or applied research—is somehow immune from moral evaluation. This view dichotomizes pure science from technology in so far as pure sciences only have epistemic values whereas technology has both epistemic and practical purposes.
However, Kitcher formulates that even pure science has practical applications. Kitcher entangles the previously distinct ideas of ‘pure’ and applied science, presenting two complications: (1) if we look back, we may find that work that is of current epistemic significance has roots in practical projects and (2) if we look to the future, others may find some practical use for it (89). Think: were the questions we now pose not based upon, or were shaped by, the values of our predecessors? In sum, whether it’s pure is not simply a question of the scientist’s intentions, but whether these intentions can be justified. Kitcher therefore disagrees with the notion of ‘pure’ science, understanding “moral and social values to be intrinsic to the practices of the sciences”[3] (65).
Kitcher’s Well-Ordered Science Ideal
Kitcher has aimed to make clear that our current understanding of scientific enterprise leaves issues of navigating the discrepancies between individual and collective goods. The traditional method as to solving said issues often points to objectivity, claiming that the aim of science is to deal with ‘what is really there’. However, Kitcher is skeptical of objectivism for a few main reasons. First, he highlights the difficulty of separating the question of what is objectively good for a person from what that person actually wants. Then, he admits that it is almost equally difficult to find a way to aggregate individual wellbeing into collective good. From these points, Kitcher proposes an alternative to objectivism in which individual preferences are taken as basic to the idea of personal and collective goods, and the way to move from the level of the individual to society assumes a framework of democratic ideals. The question hereby becomes what collective good scientific inquiry should promote.
Kitcher’s WOS is an attempt to establish a way of directing inquiry that satisfies the preferences of the members of the society in which it is carried out. Throughout my explanation of the Well-Ordered Science ideal, I will raise some initial concerns that I will then elaborate on in the following section. Let us first note that he finds “vulgar democracy”, or simple majority vote, insufficient since most people may be ill-informed with respect to science. He prefers a system of consensus formation in which people openly talk to one another about their preferences. Kitcher’s thought is that nobody would want to do something somebody else would really dislike. But I can think of various occasions in which this is not the case. To begin, there are mentally ill individuals, such as sociopaths, who may possess a lack of empathy and thereby would have no issue doing something somebody else would seriously dislike. Then, there is the fact that strangers often times do not feel obligation to one another. To continue, consider greed, selfish intent, and stark differences of opinion that cannot be negotiated.
To take a closer look, our current democratic process is extremely polarized, with the democratic and republican parties. Kitcher may respond to this by stating this is not enlightened democracy, but I would counter that his ideal is exactly what we strive for. We simply fall short. We might then wonder how we are to get closer to his ideal? Kitcher responds to all concerns of this sort by saying his ideal is an ideal, which we must reach towards, whether or not we can ever fully emulate it. I would argue that our current democratic state is reason to believe his ideal might fail in similar ways as well, but regardless let us continue. However, as we continue, some questions you might consider are how we are to establish the confines of a single society, especially in the US, under one collective interest. Secondly, one might contemplate how likely it is that each individual will be accounted for in his new system. Finally, question whether or not science ought to be a process subjected so society in this way.
Kitcher uses this base model of deliberative democracy to develop a procedure for well-ordered inquiry into three stages: deciding how to distribute research among projects, pursuing those projects within moral constraint, and applying results to practical problems. The first step involves transforming individual preferences into “tutored” preferences, by giving people information about the epistemic and practical significance of various lines of inquiry. Then, people discuss their tutored preferences among themselves and through this exchange of ideas people’s preferences are modified again in light of what they know about each other’s needs. He then proposes they draw up a list of priorities regarding issues that they’d like science to address, and from here Kitcher sees three main possibilities. The first case is that there will be a consensus about this list. No problems here. The second case is that people will have different lists, but each accepts a set of other lists as fair and the intersection of these sets is non-empty. He then suggests that if the intersection is a unique list to go with that, if there’s more than one list in the intersection to vote, or if the intersection of the sets of lists each accepts as fair is empty, then vote on all lists in the union of all the sets. The next step in this process is to assess the possibilities that inquiry will in fact deliver the goods that they want.
This is the stage in which Kitcher feels it appropriate to bring in experts in the field. Problems may arise, nonetheless. Say they disagree about who the experts are who they should turn to. Or the experts do no more than give people a range of probabilities. Or the experts themselves disagree on the probabilities. All of these are substantial concerns and could be detrimental to his ideal, yet Kitcher denounces them by simply saying all this information ought to be taken into consideration.
Say we move forward in spite of this arguably insufficient response, his ideal calls that we then consult a disinterested arbitrator, who uses this information about the probabilities from the previous step together with the collective wish list to draw up possible research agendas at different budgetary levels. If you are not yet questioning where one might find a disinterested arbitrator, then begin doing so. I find it interesting that Kitcher expects everyone in a given society to be invested in this process, everyone accounted for and considered, yet somehow there exists this arbitrator that is exempt from this. If scientific inquiry is to be unified by that at which it is directed, as Kitcher’s model suggests, we might wonder how a disinterested arbitrator would be beneficial to the situation. Is not the entire point that we care for the interests of the society?
Kitcher holds that, in the simple case where there is no previous disagreement, the arbitrator can then pick out what avenues of inquiry will maximize the people’s expected utilities given the results of the previous steps, their budget and so forth. But if there were disagreements at the previous step or if it was inconclusive, then the arbitrator must pick that distribution that best satisfies the views of the majority who are most often considered experts. Here we have a model that I argue heavily resembles what Kitcher called “vulgar democracy”, while it is slightly preferable to a simply majority vote, at bottom it boils down to the same overarching principle of such. Like I said, this arbitrator acts in a position I would think Kitcher would not want in his ideal. Lastly, Kitcher claims that the final stage of his decision-making model would go back to the people, who ultimately decide on the budgetary level and the research agenda. Now, let us ask: Will there not still be disagreement? What has changed?
The following stage of his model concerns the actual pursuit of inquiry. He understands that there will be moral constraints, such as those having to do with protecting rights of human research subjects. Thereby he suggests these disputes about who has what rights are to be settled by voting. Again, I see resemblance to vulgar democracy. Kitcher recognizes that there may be cases in which people cannot reach agreement because they have fundamentally different views about such things as the moral status of, say, fetuses or animals. When that is the case, this fact should be taken into account in the distribution of resources or in formulating the collective wish list we spoke of above. For instance, they may commit resources to finding another, more acceptable experimental strategy, or decide that the results of this sort of research are not so important after all (122). The next stage is application, which mimics the outline above.
Given this analysis, he can now define well-ordered science as that which invariably leads to investigations that coincide in all three ways with what the ideal deliberators would choose (122-23). Of course this is just an ideal, but we can at least hope to achieve a reasonable approximation to it, says Kitcher. But I think there is tension. Moreover, aside from the apparent structural issues of the model, I argue that there is not good reason to believe this model appropriate for the pursuit of scientific inquiry or enterprise.
What Has Gone Wrong?
I have thus far presented Kitcher’s arguments against scientific unity and purity, and I now aim to expose an inconsistency in Kitcher’s position. Should we examine the first sentence in Chapter 10, the chapter outlining well-ordered science, we see Kitcher claim that “properly functioning inquiry” exists (117). This statement assumes that inquiry has a function, or an ultimate aim. However, I call Kitcher to consider that if science has such a function then it thereby must be unified. The basic premise of his Well-Ordered Science (WOS) ideal holds that scientific inquiry ought to proceed as a deliberative, representative, and proportional practice, taking the form of an enlightened democracy. I would like to raise some immediate concerns. While Kitcher earlier argued that there could be no plausible account of singular scientific unity, his Well-Ordered Science presupposes a singular function for the scientific enterprise. Thus, there is resultant tension.
Kitcher’s ‘well-ordered science’ seems to be dependent on a widespread social unity that he earlier deemed implausible. In his Well-Ordered-Science he invents ‘ideal deliberators’ that will be properly educated on the issues, or ‘tutored’, so as to reach consensus for the given society. Yet let us ask who the appropriate group to deliberate about the path of inquiry ought to be, “a particular society” or the “entire human species?” (125). His answer favors an intermediate position, in which the society that is going to support the research deliberates, all the while taking the needs of people outside of their society into account. This assumes unity of interests across the whole of humanity. Ideally, the panel would be at least able to consider the implications of their choices on another society so as to do no harm. However, given our comprehensive human history, I think it is reasonable to assume that such an ideal situation is no more than an ideal. We can understand Kitcher to believe that any individual, cultural, or alike conflict the ideal deliberators may encounter can be resolved through well-ordered, deliberative, and educated scientific discussion. However, drawing on an example Kitcher used against the unity of science, stating “molecular genetics tells us…about the chemical structures of individual genes, but fails to provide a general specification,” I propose this is similarly the case with Kitcher’s ideal deliberation. In his ideal deliberation we have a compilation of individual interests that cannot be condensed into a sort of ‘law’, so to speak, of the general interest. Kitcher admitted in an earlier chapter that there are other “systems of thought that prevail in other regions of the world” (13). Even had Kitcher not stated so, this can be assumed. Assimilating individual interests present in a given society is not often attainable. Moreover, discrepancies present cross-culturally, across the whole of humanity, are even less likely to be reducible—or unified—in such a way.
Thinking this to be the case, we might consider if WOS should be an ideal to strive for at all. Kitcher claims that WOS will solve current issues resultant from both ‘vulgar democracy’ and the privatization of science as it is now, but let us take a closer look. The specific problems, as Kitcher refers to them, can broadly be classified as the following: inadequate representation, tyranny of the ignorant, false consciousness, and parochial applications (or a range of options). Kitcher’s view is that deliberative democratic procedure is the best way to address these problems insofar as proportionality and deliberation, disinterested arbitrators uninfluenced by monetary gain, and the number of people involved in the decision making body will be enough to stop us from making poor decisions.
My hope was to address each issue individually and extensively; however, there simply is no way to do so. Instead, I will name a few of my immediate and minor concerns, then doing my best to elaborate on the more extensive issues. First, Kitcher is undoubtedly assuming that we can achieve enough with tutoring, which I would say it is not clear this is the case. He also assumes that people, as in the citizens of the society, will care and while taxpayers will likely care, this again is not always so.
Further, must we make panel for fascists? Would they not be able to give input on their interests since participating would thereby cause them not be fascist? Additionally, if people are too democratic—whether tutored or untutored—there may be democratic zealots who cannot be adequately represented either. See, differences in representations are necessary for this democratic ideal to work in the first place, yet we might be navigating between extremes incessantly. Local and global issues are relevant and he addresses this but he does not realize that they simply cannot be merged perfectly. Not only are interests and values distinct, but also there are quite literally different forms of communication, different languages, concepts, and so forth that may prohibit accurate deliberation.
Putting such issues aside, let us examine implications that may arise if his ideal deliberative democratic procedure of scientific inquiry were to be successful. Kitcher is undoubtedly concerned with the social good we get from science, a fundamental question he address throughout the entirety of the work. Further, if the “function of science” is even in part to get at significant truths, which Kitcher holds it is, then I posit that Kitcher’s Well-Ordered Science depends on a notion of purity—for if “moral, social, and political ideals figure in judgments about scientific significance” it can be assumed that certain detrimental issues would arise. Let us remember Kitcher’s argument against the Myth of Purity. He asked, “are there virtually always practical concerns hovering in the background, if only in the conscientious researcher’s concern to give satisfaction to employers or funding agencies?” (87).
He ignored this issues “for the purposes of drawing the distinction” since motivations of this kind likely occur equally in cases of basic research and technology. However, it brings up an important issue: the issue of who determines what will be granted funding for research and study. If his ideal succeeds, Kitcher holds that if the ideal succeeded modern science’s issues of inadequate representation, tyranny of the ignorant, false consciousness, parochial applications would dissolve. However, however even here in the United States—not to mention across the whole of humanity—we do not exist in a deliberative representative democracy; rather, we exist in a federalist system founded on who can out-spend whom in many cases. This suggests that the political input into science may at times steer science away from its aim (supposing there is a unified aim). Even more problematic, should we consider everyone in the ideal, representative and proportional, deliberative democracy Kitcher is suggesting, there are going to be individuals whose interests naturally conflict with the aims of science such as religious groups. Thus, focusing on the United States, tyranny of the ignorant is a considerable concern for, as we know, some of the ‘ignorant’ in the US cannot be tutored away from their ‘ignorance’ in so far as they subscribe to certain beliefs that run counter to science dogmatically. The tyranny of the ignorant is likely to be an ever-present problem so long as there is an impurity to science since the moral, social, and political factors that play a role in what is considered scientifically significant are not unified. While well-ordered science is meant to combat the previously listed four problems equally, if we want to do good science it seems as if we ought to be primarily concerned with the tyranny of the ignorant.
In sum, ideals are instructive but we must admit that there are cases in which if the ideal cannot be achieved then it is even worse than had we avoided any attempt emulate an abstraction as such. It is not clear to me at all that emulating the WOS ideal is the thing to do. The Tyranny of the Ignorant is a significant concern in the US since some of the scientifically ‘ignorant’ in the US cannot be tutored able away from their scientific ignorance because they subscribe to certain beliefs that run counter to science dogmatically. Representatives also often cater to higher monetary interest in our current democratic system, so why would this not be the case for WOS? Kitcher seems to think the scientists will care about truth and will pull it in right direction. But there are emotions and values we are unlikely to separate from human nature, such as greed and selfishness. We do not exist in deliberative representative democracy rather a federalist system based on who can spend whom into submission, and enslaving system of science under broader system likely will not help the practice progress.
Further Considerations
Let us recollect and consider a counterargument. I determined that Kitcher’s concern with “properly functioning inquiry” is a concern for inquiry that serves a social ‘good’ since he claims that it “should satisfy the preferences of the citizens in the society which is practiced” (117). This indicates that science has a proper function and is thereby unified and pure in some sense, posing a problem for Kitcher’s position in so far as he previously deemed accounts of scientific purity and unity to be nonsensical. Kitcher is likely to counter that the notions of purity and unity underlying his Well-Ordered Science do not fundamentally resemble the purity and unity he earlier discredited. He may argue that the accounts of purity and unity he disagrees with are reliant on entirely epistemic aims, while his ideal of well-ordered science is more so interested in such aims entangled with pragmatic application.
Should we ask Kitcher how we are to determine which truths count as significant, however, his reply would likely deem those providing a social good to be the ‘truths’ of significance. However, as made clear by my prior argument, it is not clear which ‘truths’, or scientific theories, this may be. Kitcher plainly stated, “divisions evolve in response to changing human purposes” (59). Human interests shift. Therefore, attempts to give an account of scientific or social unity, or even to assign any sort of scientific significance for the whole of humanity, is futile and, in essence, fallible. Kitcher himself proved this in his account of scientific significance; however, he lost sight of this when composing his ideal of well-ordered science, presenting problems for the whole of his argument.
As Kitcher questioned in Chapter 2, “The World as We Find It,” we ought to wonder “how can we maintain that what we believe is true when others disagree?” (13). At bottom, we are apt to admit that “scientific realism makes judgments” and, moreover, we might want to seriously consider the “suggestion that western beliefs are… closer to the truth than those current amongst some culturally distinct group” (13). I propose we simply acknowledge that values play a role in science opposed to trying to create an ideal democratic framework, simply allowing our values to shape our scientific inquiry. Without value nothing might seem to matter at all, so instead of aiming for making scientific inquiry a deliberative democratic practice, guided by disinterested arbitrators, let us welcome the interests of the scientists—to an extent, of course. Further, when we consider our values, theories, and so forth in the context of culturally distinct societies, we let us “inquire if the rival views, based on different experiences, provide grounds for enriching our beliefs” (13).
[1] As simplified by Helen Longino, “The “scientific faithful” hold the sciences to be the height of human achievement and the basis for improvement of human life while the “debunkers” see the sciences as merely serving the interests of the powerful under cover of myths about truth and objectivity” (Longino 2002).
[2] In short, our ways of dividing up nature—with respect to prior theory-choice and practice—plays a causal role in the process of our current understanding. We do not construct the world itself but, rather, we construct representations of reality. Our categories of ‘reality’ are in themselves consequential (52-53).
[3] If anything, I would say this is the claim in Kitcher’s work that we ought to pay the most attention to, for it is arguably the most substantial contribution he makes to the philosophy of science in so far as he sufficiently supports this claim throughout the rest of the work, which I will further show.
Annotated Bibliography
Kitcher, Philip. 2001. Science, Truth, and Democracy. Oxford University Press.
This was my main source since I based my final paper, which I will be revised for the purposes of Project II, off of this work. I revisited the work in detail, primarily the chapters concerning scientific unity, purity, and well ordered science. My ultimate aim was to explain Kitcher's aim in this work, showing his successes alongside his major downfall of structural and argumentative error insofar as denouncing scientific unity and purity only to later develop a method of Well-Ordered Science that itself depends on unity and purity.
Kitcher, Philip. 2002. “Reply to Helen Longino.” Philosophy of Science 69 (4): 569–72. doi:10.1086/344619.
This is the paper in which Kitcher responds to comments made by Helen Longino on his book Science, Truth, and Democracy, the book I will focused my entire project on. This was an extrmely useful source for clarification on conceptual issues I myself tried to illustrate in my paper. This issues discussed include the concept of modest realism, pluralism, and conservative epistemology.
Longino, Helen E. 2002a. “Science and the Common Good: Thoughts on Philip Kitcher’s Science, Truth, and Democracy.” Philosophy of Science 69 (4): 560–68. doi:10.1086/344618.
This is a commentary on Kitcher's book, Science, Truth, and Democracy. Longino discusses Kitcher's primary departure from his earlier views, and how it involves rejecting the idea that there is any single standard of scientific significance. The context-dependence of scientific significance opens up many normative issues to philosophical investigation and to resolution through democratic processes. She proposes that while some readers will feel Kitcher has not moved far enough from earlier epistemological positions, the book nonetheless represents an important addition to literature on science, society, and values. For this very reason this source was especially helpful. Many of the topics I hoped to address are touched on, at least in brief, in this paper.