Pretzels and Green Pyramids
We journeyed to Philadelphia last week to take in the annual meeting of the American Assn. for the Advancement of Science, a smorgasbord of lectures and panels on everything under the sun--from Halley’s comet to evolution, from super computers to snoring. Outside, the streets were hot and muggy, and crowded with vendors selling pretzels with mustard. Inside three downtown hotels, more than 1,000 speakers discussed what they know and don’t know, and audiences frequently disagreed about which was which.
One of the most charming symposiums for a visiting generalist was Rolf Sinclair’s annual presentation called “Science for the Naked Eye,” sometimes described as the Whole Earth Catalog of the meeting. This year’s speakers on the science behind everyday events included Shirley Corriher of Atlanta on cooking; Paul Kurtz of the State University of New York, Buffalo, on belief in magic and the occult, and Richard E. Cytowic, a neurologist from Washington, D.C., who discussed the rare ability of a few people to hear in colors and taste in shapes--so-called synesthesia, a joining of senses. People with this ability, synesthetes, may hear symphonies of rising green pyramids.
Cytowic said that his research had led him to conclude, “The neuron is a story teller. It selects some facts, ignores some facts and accentuates others. If you ask me what is real, I’ll tell you that I haven’t the slightest idea.”
Almost all of the participants subscribed to one of the basic notions of Western civilization--that the world is better off with knowledge than without it. It seems self-evident that science and technology have raised the standard of living of billions of people beyond our ancestors’ dreams. More recently, though, we have learned that there is a price for these advances. The Chernobyl accident is yet another reminder of it.
Thomas P. Hughes, a University of Pennsylvania science historian, rekindled these thoughts in a lecture in which he described the interaction of technology and democracy, which he called “the essence of America.” He said that the human desire to order and control could now effectively be applied to societies, and that “our problems stem from giving up humanity for technology.”
The question keeps coming back: Are we really better off with knowledge than without it? Of course we are. And yet, how can we arrange it so that the knowledge won’t harm as well as help us? Not that we have a choice. We are Homo sapiens, man the knower. It is our nature to be inquisitive and to find things out. And, for the last 500 years or so, we have become very good at it.
But knowledge is not wisdom, which is in much shorter supply. There are disputes about what is known, but there is virtually complete disagreement about what is wise. The Reagan Administration’s budget proposals for next year call for spending about as much on the Strategic Defense Initiative as on the National Institutes of Health (about $5.5 billion).
The nurturing and support of science and all knowledge is one of the hallmarks of the United States, an important aspect of our culture as well as of our material well being. Some of what we learn in this vast enterprise is useful, and much of it is just interesting--at least for now. Where is all this leading? Should we be going there? Could we redirect it if we wanted to?
These questions have no answers. But they need attention. We may not be able to know for sure, but we can carve out little pieces of insight along the way.
