The public views science as consisting of textbook facts and absolute laws. Instead, as a body of knowledge, science is always changing and is, thus, difficult to keep up with. We are refining ideas or discarding a disproven one all the time. Scientists themselves are seen as an “other”—technical, practical, analytical, less emotive, even unfathomable (Michael 1992)—guardians of the facts and laws. They are thought to be serious, distant, preoccupied, nerdy, and often not highly socially skilled—an unfortunate and limiting stereotype. Science is a specialty that does not require its practitioners to be trained specifically to interact with the public who do not have a basic foundation in their field. Potentially, those drawn to science as a career prefer less public exchange and their job requirements may not call for it.
Science Talk
Scientists have their own language dependent on their area of expertise and use language in a very precise way—to communicate efficiently and directly with each other. Scientific words are defined with utmost care so nothing is assumed or misunderstood. Different areas of science have their own jargon, which serves a useful purpose to allow for precise communication of ideas between specialists. It saves time and provides important detail but it is truly impenetrable to the non-specialist and even to other scientists outside that field. The biologists will probably not be able to converse in scientific language with the physicist and the anthropologists will not understand the geologist very well. This jargon is spoken in journal articles, at meetings, presentations, and conferences. To unpack and understand scientific language, you may need a PhD degree in that subject area (Mooney & Kirshenbaum 2009). Formal scientific language is “very unnatural” to the outsider (Ziman 2000). Attempts to imitate it are obvious to those with scientific experience and a pretender is quickly spotted. Unlike our typical conversations with friends, family, and even the random stranger in the checkout line, emotion and opinion are not the basis of scientific discussion, the arguments are more sophisticated and concise with inclusions of references to the keys of scientific ethos and norms. It’s detached and difficult speech. A hallmark of scientific jargon is the use of qualifying words such as “likely” and “suggests” when discussing conclusions. These words are annoying to the reporter and official who are looking for unequivocal facts. But scientific knowledge consists of probability arguments, not absolutes (Ziman 2000) so the qualifying words have important meaning. The tendency towards probability talk and stating the best answer, instead of the answer, makes science talk frustrating for some listeners and demonstrates one stark difference between science and other fields such as law, politics, and religion. Science talk contributes to the enforced boundaries around what is and isn’t science.
Sounds Sciencey
Science boundaries are necessary to support its exclusivity and authority. Scientists themselves created and actively maintain these boundaries. The exclusivity is vital to the value of science.
Science is a craft with unique skills that must be learned. It can’t be done by just anyone who deems to call himself “a scientist.” This is not dissimilar to becoming a lawyer or a medical doctor, or entering the clergy, as certain requirements are imposed upon the individual to follow. The science community requires that a thorough understanding of how science works must come from doing science including undergoing graduate-level specialization, publishing in scientific journals, obtaining membership in professional organizations, and accepting and using the shared practices and concepts of the community. Qualifications as a scientist cannot be achieved through absorption or observation (Pigliucci & Boudry 2013), only through participation in the structure itself.
The power and privilege of science in society resulted in the creation of a corrupted doppleganger, where science is mimicked or co-opted by non-scientists or pseudoscientists to suggest the individual is inside the boundary of science and to gain a pretense of authority. Their activity sounds sciencey but it lacks the substance of science. Popular physicist Richard Feynman described this imitation of science as “Cargo Cult science” in 1974.2 The term was derived from “cargo cults” a phenomenon that arose with natives in Melanesia (the South Pacific) during World War II. Traces of these “cults” may even be found today.3 Feynman used the term “cargo cult” because he noticed the same type of activity in a different context. Here is his description of cargo cults and how he related it to pseudoscience or “science that isn’t science”:
In the South Seas there is a cargo cult of people. During the war they saw airplanes with lots of good materials, and they want the same thing to happen now. So they’ve arranged to make things like runways, to put fires along the sides of the runways, to make a wooden hut for a man to sit in, with two wooden pieces on his head to headphones and bars of bamboo sticking out like antennas—he’s the controller—and they wait for the airplanes to land. They’re doing everything right. The form is perfect. It looks exactly the way it looked before. But it doesn’t work. No airplanes land. So I call these things cargo cult science, because they follow all the apparent precepts and forms of scientific investigation, but they’re missing something essential, because the planes don’t land.
Modern ghost hunting may be the best example of “cargo cult science” ever as the participants follow the leader and use re-purposed equipment, playing the part of a scientist, but missing the essence of real science which is far more complex and involved—a practice outside their scope of life experience. Explaining cargo cult science to someone requires a backstory. A suitable term doesn’t exist to describe people sincerely going through the motions of science with a belief that the outcome will be equivalent. I proposed the self-explanatory term “sounds sciencey” to describe activities and demonstrations that attempt to superficially portray science and its associated credibility but lack the meaningful substance of it. Behaviors indicative of sounding sciencey include clothing oneself in the metaphorical, and sometimes literal, garb of science (white lab coats and gadgets, for example) and attempting to speak the language. Bader, Mencken and Baker (2010) discusses a unique vocabulary that develops in subcultures called argot. This specialized talk serves to distinguish insiders from outsiders. Such vocabulary is common to those involved in many hobbies such as hunting, craft-making, role-playing games and, as we clearly see here, paranormal investigation. Some ARIG argot examples include “P-G film,” “EVPs,” “implants” (from aliens), and “orbs.” Hundreds of examples are found repeated over the extent of ARIG-related media. This special language is not the same as scientific jargon, however, as scientific words are formally and precisely defined in journals and cited thereafter, used as a shortcut for very long technical descriptions. Argot is more fluid with the different purpose of flagging someone who isn’t a legitimate part of the subculture or a “noob”—short for “newbie,” a person new to the situation or subject without significant experience.
Another ploy to gain credibility is to invent an organization with an official-sounding name and acronym. The public is accustomed to these acronyms from academic professionals, and military organizational affiliations, so this is an effective means to gain credibility.
ARIGs frequently use sciencey-sounding words and actions with a public audience that only a genuine expert in a specialized professional field would recognize as incorrect or misleading. When ARIGs talk about their investigation in the guise of a scientific investigator, being scientifical (falling short of being scientific), actual scientists in the audience notice the mistakes like a musician would notice notes played off-key. Dr. Bryan Sykes noted that cryptozoologists who talk about DNA samples are embarrassingly mistaken because they clearly do not grasp the nuances and complexity of the field (Sykes 2016). Ghost hunters who discuss quantum mechanics and “ghost science” trip up on basic definitions and established concepts. Ufologists fail to reconcile their ideas with physical laws. Use of sciencey-sounding words often betrays lack of deep understanding and is invoked for appearances. Such play is not new; it was noticed lo
ng ago by professional spirit seeker of the Society of Psychical Research, William Crookes, in 1870. Playing pretend scientist is not a suitable substitute for being accurate and having sound and reliable claims of knowledge. It’s a hollow shell covered with skin in comparison to a complicated system of organs and strong supportive framework that makes up a living, working body. If you look too quickly, it may pass for real, but it does not function like the real thing.
8
Science and the Paranormal
“All argument is against it; but all belief is for it”—Samuel Johnson1
Science Rejects the Paranormal
Long before the concept of science and scientists existed, belief in the supernatural was the norm. People have reported ghosts and monsters for millennia. The advent of scientific thinking and technology reduced supernatural and superstitious thinking, but did not eliminate it entirely. Media continues today to spread and enhance belief in supernatural ideas that some portions of the population retain. The paranormal is even more palatable and believable than supernatural agents. When presented by people that we consider authorities (whether that be scientists, those who approximate scientists, self-proclaimed experts, or media personalities), belief in paranormal or fringe concepts can sound highly plausible and they enter normal conversation streams.
Mainstream science—academia, credentialed scientists and science communicators—has considered, but ultimately rejected, various paranormal phenomena as genuine. As I described earlier, there are many examples of organized scientific research into seemingly paranormal subject areas such as parapsychology, hauntings, unidentified aerial phenomenon, and unknown creatures. The paranormal was the subject of serious academic inquiry in the late 1880s (Stoeber & Meynell 1996). Psychical research was undertaken for 100 years and is well-documented. Journals existed and societies were staffed with learned men. Parapsychology, as a field of scientific standing with the American Association for the Advancement of Science, diminished. A watered-down version became the “everyperson’s science” of paranormal investigation. Even after a concerted effort to produce good evidence, there still are no reliable facts to support parapsychological phenomenon (Baker & Nickell 1992; Gibson et al. 2009) and a consensus was never reached (Irwin 1989; Stoeber & Meynell 1996). Paranormal encounters can cause intense fear and anxiety, yet traditional psychology journals treat parapsychological topics as taboo (Houran & Lange 2001). UFOs, once of interest to renowned scientists like Carl Sagan, lost all credibility after several formal examinations of the evidence by scientists and the military (Sagan & Page 1972). A well-known paranormal writer, John Keel (1975) admitted that rational people eventually left ufology, leaving it to “cranks, publicity seekers and paranoics.” In 1992, the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) held a serious conference about alien abduction because interest in the subject at the time was so high (Bader et al. 2010). Cryptozoology was once tenuously professionalized under the International Society of Cryptozoology. Once it dissolved, with no credible organizations promoting any standards, the field went more commercial. Hoaxing abounds by those who claim to be legitimate researchers. A few academic scientists took cryptozoology seriously at their professional peril. The search for anomalous primates took a turn for the worse when amateur enthusiasts and even some scientists made hasty pronouncements. Today, reputable scientists are loathed to pursue claims due to the high risk they will be hoaxed (Regal 2011). So we see why the study of non-material concepts is not a fruitful path for scientists (Lyons 2009) and, therefore, we have a split community of those who examine paranormal claims from an objective perspective, and the amateurs who are invested in the belief that there is something paranormal awaiting discovery.
The relationship between the orthodox scientific community and the paranormal community is a messy one. To use a metaphor, imagine two societies on different islands, evolving independently, and only rarely accepting news or information from the far away island. The natives of each island have their own leaders, languages and customs, their own artifacts, relics, and belief systems. Hostility may rise towards “the other” side. ARIGs regularly assert there has not been a concerted effort to study these things, not enough money is available, or scientists are closed-minded and stuck in the conservative paradigm. The history of research by scientists demolishes this argument. Bryan Sykes discusses this point most recently in his book about cooperating with Bigfoot and Yeti enthusiasts (Sykes 2016). He set out to show that he was taking a scientific look at the subject and that complaints from claimants that they were being ignored was unfair. In his situation, Sykes had success in forging a relationship of trust between these disparate communities. Scientists aren’t easily impressed by anecdotes or stories passed around town. Sykes set out to look for DNA, a strong form of physical evidence. Scientists would be eager to examine body parts or remains, or a collection of carefully measured and documented anomalies that could form the basis of a focused search. In the early stages of scientists investigating ghosts, cryptids, and UFOs (among other anomalies), speculation was rampant and many fringe claims seem plausible. Several creative explanations are considered. These ideas fall away if no evidence turns up to support them. If there was something interesting worth looking at, it has been examined and found lacking for good reasons. Paranormal or fringe explanations do not match with well-established knowledge about nature causing scientists to reject these explanations. Cryptozoology, for example, conflicts with not only biological and zoological tenets but also clashes with strongly supported theoretical frameworks in geology and paleontology. Attempts to replace an accepted and tested idea in science with a speculative and strange new one will not stick. Evidence (and plausibility) in support of the new idea must overwhelm the old to allow for a massive shift in acceptance. Thus, extraordinary claims must be supported by extraordinary evidence (Loxton & Prothero 2013).
Excluded from the Scientific Establishment
When subject areas leave the scientific realm, they take on a life of their own in the popular culture. ARIG subject areas remained very popular with the public even as they diminished in scientific respect.
Being a member of any elite community is a draw and amateurs will seek to be part of a group. With acceptance into the academic professional realm not typically open to ARIGs, they appealed directly to the public as having elite knowledge in these fringe areas and called themselves “experts.” This, however, meant that the quality of research was not equivalent to a scientific level and setback the reliability of knowledge. Clarke (2012) in Natural History of Ghosts says that the takeover of paranormal subjects by untrained enthusiasts undid much of the past serious and respectable research into the subject areas (p. 283).
Animosity and Resentment
There is certainly an element of class distinction between the professionals and the non-professionals. In defense of their efforts, ARIG rhetoric portrays scientists as afraid of new ideas and seeking to protect their status and livelihood. They describe orthodox science as done by “close-minded eggheads” in an “ivory tower.” This understandable attitude towards monolithic “science” as being closed off perpetuates the communicative distance and lack of exchange between ARIGs and the scientific community. ARIGs may also display a desire for revenge against the scientific establishment that rejects or ignores their claims. They hold that they will be the ones to break through and make the ultimate discovery, not scientists (Loxton & Prothero 2013). But as documented, many scientists had and still have excitement for discovery of strange new things and would be delighted to be the ones who help bring a sensational and real discovery to the eyes of the world. New information in nature does not pose any threat or undermine the scientific enterprise. While a few scientists are outwardly sympathetic to paranormal explanations, individuals with a scientific title or career are only rarely explicitly identified with ARIGs or members of such a group. Scientists will focus on research that can be immediately useful, seeing fringe subjects unwort
hy of attention, even to a degree that the participants are openly mocked for wasting their time, leading to open animosity towards scientific or skeptical involvement in these now-democratized fields.
Attention from science helps legitimize the subject. Paranormal proponents want the luster science can bring to their area of interest, but they hate that they can’t get it. When science ignores, rejects, or shows disdain towards a subject area that is perceived as legitimate by researchers of that area, it breeds mistrust, suspicion, and feelings of contempt. Scientists, with their books and journals and pronouncements, are not wanted unless they are aiding your cause. Scientific or expert critical opinion is shut out unless it can be used to reinforce a preferred position. Some ARIGs reject any intellectual approach, asserting that the real discovery takes place through active field work, not via “armchair research.” Paranormal skeptics who wish to contribute to the discussion or ask questions are excluded from participation in events, banned from Internet forums, or ridiculed in pro-paranormal publications. Another example of the hostility exhibited by amateurs in paranormal research was the response of the cryptozoological community to three books published from 2011 to 2016 by science-minded and skeptical scholars. All three brought to light significant and critical information about mystery animals that should influence further pertinent research. Yet, they were deliberately ignored or given negative reviews by pro-cryptid commenters. In 2011, Tracking the Chupacabra by Benjamin Radford neatly solved the mystery of the chupacabra as a complex cultural beast reflecting community fears in South America that spread to the U.S. mainland and around the world via the Internet. Loxton and Prothero’s Abominable Science (2013) dug into the history of many cryptids to discover how some of the key people and tales that were highly regarded were baseless and should not be regarded as quality evidence. One Bigfoot extremist even called for the publisher to retract this book. Several reviewers pilloried the book while admitting they didn’t read it. The latest, Hunting Monsters, a scientific comparison by Naish (2016), followed the pattern now expected by the split crypto-community (that of the amateur enthusiasts versus scholarly researchers who value application of the scientific ethos). If a book exposes evidence against the biological reality of cryptids, no matter if it provides worthwhile social and historical information, it is rejected. Disregarding and attacking sound, referenced arguments from critics and legitimate experts is an indication that a field is pathological and cannot progress in knowledge.
Scientifical Americans Page 16
