Even if you don’t recall many facts from high school biology, you likely remember the cells required for making babies: egg and sperm. Maybe you can picture a swarm of sperm cells battling each other in a race to be the first to penetrate the egg.
For decades, scientific literature described human conception this way, with the cells mirroring the perceived roles of women and men in society. The egg was thought to be passive while the sperm was active.
Over time, scientists realized that sperm are too weak to penetrate the egg and that the union is more mutual, with the two cells working together. It’s no coincidence that these findings were made in the same era when new cultural ideas of more egalitarian gender roles were taking hold.
Scientist Ludwik Fleck is credited with first describing science as a cultural practice in the 1930s. Since then, understanding has continued to build that scientific knowledge is always consistent with the cultural norms of its time.
Despite these insights, across political differences, people strive for and continue to demand scientific objectivity: the idea that science should be unbiased, rational and separable from cultural values and beliefs.
When I entered my Ph.D. program in neuroscience in 2001, I felt the same way. But reading a book by biologist Anne Fausto-Sterling called “Sexing the Body” set me down a different path. It systematically debunked the idea of scientific objectivity, showing how cultural ideas about sex, gender and sexuality were inseparable from the scientific findings. By the time I earned my Ph.D., I began to look more holistically at my research, integrating the social, historical and political context.
From the questions scientists begin with, to the beliefs of the people who conduct the research, to choices in research design, to interpretation of the final results, cultural ideas constantly inform “the science.” What if an unbiased science is impossible?
Emergence of idea of scientific objectivity
Science grew to be synonymous with objectivity in the Western university system only over the past few hundred years.
In the 15th and 16th centuries, some Europeans gained traction in challenging the religiously ordained royal order. Consolidation of the university system led to shifts from trust in religious leaders interpreting the word of “god,” to trust in “man” making one’s own rational decisions, to trust in scientists interpreting “nature.” The university system became an important site for legitimizing claims through theories and studies.
Previously, people created knowledge about their world, but there were not strict boundaries between what are now called the humanities, such as history, English and philosophy, and the sciences, including biology, chemistry and physics. Over time, as questions arose about how to trust political decisions, people split the disciplines into categories: subjective versus objective. The splitting came with the creation of other binary oppositions, including the closely related emotionality/rationality divide. These categories were not simply seen as opposite, but in a hierarchy with objectivity and rationality as superior.
A closer look shows that these binary systems are arbitrary and self-reinforcing.
Science is a human endeavor
The sciences are fields of study conducted by humans. These people, called scientists, are part of cultural systems just like everyone else. We scientists are part of families and have political viewpoints. We watch the same movies and TV shows and listen to the same music as nonscientists. We read the same newspapers, cheer for the same sports teams and enjoy the same hobbies as others.
All of these obviously “cultural” parts of our lives are going to affect how scientists approach our jobs and what we consider “common sense” that does not get questioned when we do our experiments.
Beyond individual scientists, the kinds of studies that get conducted are based on what questions are deemed relevant or not by dominant societal norms.
For example, in my Ph.D. work in neuroscience, I saw how different assumptions about hierarchy could influence specific experiments and even the entire field. Neuroscience focuses on what is called the central nervous system. The name itself describes a hierarchical model, with one part of the body “in charge” of the rest. Even within the central nervous system, there was a conceptual hierarchy with the brain controlling the spinal cord.
My research looked more at what happened peripherally in muscles, but the predominant model had the brain at the top. The taken-for-granted idea that a system needs a boss mirrors cultural assumptions. But I realized we could have analyzed the system differently and asked different questions. Instead of the brain being at the top, a different model could focus on how the entire system communicates and works together at coordination.
Every experiment also has assumptions baked in — things that are taken for granted, including definitions. Scientific experiments can become self-fulfilling prophecies.
For example, billions of dollars have been spent on trying to delineate sex differences. However, the definition of male and female is almost never stated in these research papers. At the same time, evidence mounts that these binary categories are a modern invention not based on clear physical differences.
But the categories are tested so many times that eventually some differences are discovered without putting these results into a statistical model together. Oftentimes, so-called negative findings that don’t identify a significant difference are not even reported. Sometimes, meta-analyses based on multiple studies that investigated the same question reveal these statistical errors, as in the search for sex-related brain differences. Similar patterns of slippery definitions that end up reinforcing taken-for-granted assumptions happen with race, sexuality and other socially created categories of difference.
Finally, the end results of experiments can be interpreted in many different ways, adding another point where cultural values are injected into the final scientific conclusions.
Settling on science when there’s no objectivity
Vaccines. Abortion. Climate change. Sex categories. Science is at the center of most of today’s hottest political debates. While there is much disagreement, the desire to separate politics and science seems to be shared. On both sides of the political divide, there are accusations that the other side’s scientists cannot be trusted because of political bias.
Consider the recent controversy over the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s vaccine advisory panel. Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. fired all members of the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices, saying they were biased, while some Democratic lawmakers argued back that his move put in place those who would be biased in pushing his vaccine-skeptical agenda.
If removing all bias is impossible, then, how do people create knowledge that can be trusted?
The understanding that all knowledge is created through cultural processes does allow for two or more differing truths to coexist. You see this reality in action around many of today’s most controversial subjects. However, this does not mean you must believe all truths equally — that’s called total cultural relativism. This perspective ignores the need for people to come to decisions together about truth and reality.
Instead, critical scholars offer democratic processes for people to determine which values are important and for what purposes knowledge should be developed. For example, some of my work has focused on expanding a 1970s Dutch model of the science shop, where community groups come to university settings to share their concerns and needs to help determine research agendas. Other researchers have documented other collaborative practices between scientists and marginalized communities or policy changes, including processes for more interdisciplinary or democratic input, or both.
I argue a more accurate view of science is that pure objectivity is impossible. Once you leave the myth of objectivity behind, though, the way forward is not simple. Instead of a belief in an all-knowing science, we are faced with the reality that humans are responsible for what is researched, how it is researched and what conclusions are drawn from such research.
With this knowledge, we have the opportunity to intentionally set societal values that inform scientific investigations. This requires decisions about how people come to agreements about these values. These agreements need not always be universal but instead can be dependent on the context of who and what a given study might affect. While not simple, using these insights, gained over decades of studying science from both within and outside, may force a more honest conversation between political positions.
This edited article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
