Shaped by our times
24/05/16 05:38
Anthony Burgess once wrote, “It’s always good to remember where you come from and celebrate it. To remember where you come from is part of where you’re going.” The motivational speaker Morris Massey says a similar concept this way: “What you are is where you were when.” It is clear that we are shaped by our past, not only by our personal experiences, but also by the political and social events of the world into which we were born and in which we grow.
As I look back, the timing of the launching of Sputnik 1, the first artificial Earth satellite was a factor in my education. I was only four years old when the event occurred, but it caused an enormous response here in the United States. The space race was on. I was a third grader when President John F. Kennedy announced before a special joint session of Congress the dramatic and ambitious goal of sending and American safely to the Moon and back before the end of the decade. That goal was achieved through an intense burst of national focus and effort. It isn’t that there weren’t any other things going on - there were. The Cuban missile crisis, the assassination of the President and several other major leaders, the Vietnam War - there is a long list of national events that are memorable and shaped the story and culture of our people. But it think it might be fair to say that the space race had some of the most far-reaching effects on shaping who I am as an adult.
Almost instantly, science, math and engineering were important skills. The curricula of public schools was quickly refocused on teaching those skills. New math wasn’t a new subject but rather a new way of thinking about teaching mathematical skills. The academic track in our school was heavily weighted with math and science. Students who were intelligent and who showed promise as scholars were tracked into science and engineering classes.
There was a part of me that enjoyed the emphasis. I was interested in becoming a pilot and admired the astronauts. I studied their biographies and wrote personal letters to several of the original 7 astronauts. An autographed photograph of Walter Schirra was on the wall of my bedroom. He flew on all three phases of the moon program: Mercury 8, Gemini 6 and Apollo 7. He was two years younger than my father and they shared the same first name.
I had the ability to learn the math and science courses that were offered in our high school. However, by the time I reached high school, I was beginning to recognize that there were other fields of endeavor and study that were worthy of thought and energy. Science and math weren’t the only intellectual pursuits - the were the ones that were emphasized by the culture of the times.
There weren’t many philosophy majors in my college. There was even a mythology that philosophy was a bit of a slacker course of study, not requiring the same dedication, brilliance or commitment of the hard sciences. Logic, essential to the study of philosophy was taught as a mathematics course in our college. It was in the middle of my college career that I discovered the history and philosophy of science. I began to see that there is a long heritage of serious thinking about the directions of scientific exploration. I also began to see the value of interdisciplinary study. Different fields inform one another and while intense focus and narrow thinking can lead to discovery and pushing the boundaries of a particular discipline, taking a step back and looking at the big picture is essential to the application of discovery. Left to themselves, mathematics and physics become speculative enterprises that leave direct observation and application behind. I find it fascinating that some scientists disregard religion and speak of it as a study of nothing while at the same time reveling in the search for neutrinos. At Sanford Lab here in the hills the Large Underground Xenon (LUX) dark matter experiment is composed of one third of a ton of liquid xenon surrounded with sensitive light detectors inside a titanium vessel. The theory is that a dark matter particle will collide with a xenon atom inside the detector and a tiny burst of light will be emitted that can be detected. It is supposed to be one of the most sensitive scientific instruments ever devised. This huge effort at enormous cost has yet to yield any direct observation. LUX hasn’t detected a single particle of dark matter. The response of the scientists is to be deep into the planning and fund raising for an even larger detector, something on the scale of ten times of the present experiment, surpassing the world’s largest detector, buried int he ice of Antarctica.
All of this effort is to detect a particle that has not been directly observed. It is entirely possible that LUX will never detect a particle of dark matter.
And they call theology speculative.
It is, of course, a matter of perspective.
I happen to support physics research. I think building the large detectors has the potential to yield great discoveries and to push the limits of human knowledge and understanding the the universe. I think it is a worthy endeavor. But there are other ways to invest human thinking and energy that are equally worthy. Still, don’t expect theological seminaries or philosophy departments to be able to raise the kind of funding and attention afforded to speculative physics research. We’ve set national priorities and established agenda that favor some fields of study over others.
That is where knowing a bit of the history and philosophy of science is useful. The study of theology was a part of human life for thousands of years before the development of scientific method. Dismissing the book of Genesis as “unscientific” misses the point entirely. It comes from a period of human history before scientific methodologies existed. The study of theology will remain long after current scientific explorations are labeled primitive by new discoveries.
Thinking about the nature of God is a worthy human endeavor. It may even be one of the outcomes of the effort to detect dark matter.
As I look back, the timing of the launching of Sputnik 1, the first artificial Earth satellite was a factor in my education. I was only four years old when the event occurred, but it caused an enormous response here in the United States. The space race was on. I was a third grader when President John F. Kennedy announced before a special joint session of Congress the dramatic and ambitious goal of sending and American safely to the Moon and back before the end of the decade. That goal was achieved through an intense burst of national focus and effort. It isn’t that there weren’t any other things going on - there were. The Cuban missile crisis, the assassination of the President and several other major leaders, the Vietnam War - there is a long list of national events that are memorable and shaped the story and culture of our people. But it think it might be fair to say that the space race had some of the most far-reaching effects on shaping who I am as an adult.
Almost instantly, science, math and engineering were important skills. The curricula of public schools was quickly refocused on teaching those skills. New math wasn’t a new subject but rather a new way of thinking about teaching mathematical skills. The academic track in our school was heavily weighted with math and science. Students who were intelligent and who showed promise as scholars were tracked into science and engineering classes.
There was a part of me that enjoyed the emphasis. I was interested in becoming a pilot and admired the astronauts. I studied their biographies and wrote personal letters to several of the original 7 astronauts. An autographed photograph of Walter Schirra was on the wall of my bedroom. He flew on all three phases of the moon program: Mercury 8, Gemini 6 and Apollo 7. He was two years younger than my father and they shared the same first name.
I had the ability to learn the math and science courses that were offered in our high school. However, by the time I reached high school, I was beginning to recognize that there were other fields of endeavor and study that were worthy of thought and energy. Science and math weren’t the only intellectual pursuits - the were the ones that were emphasized by the culture of the times.
There weren’t many philosophy majors in my college. There was even a mythology that philosophy was a bit of a slacker course of study, not requiring the same dedication, brilliance or commitment of the hard sciences. Logic, essential to the study of philosophy was taught as a mathematics course in our college. It was in the middle of my college career that I discovered the history and philosophy of science. I began to see that there is a long heritage of serious thinking about the directions of scientific exploration. I also began to see the value of interdisciplinary study. Different fields inform one another and while intense focus and narrow thinking can lead to discovery and pushing the boundaries of a particular discipline, taking a step back and looking at the big picture is essential to the application of discovery. Left to themselves, mathematics and physics become speculative enterprises that leave direct observation and application behind. I find it fascinating that some scientists disregard religion and speak of it as a study of nothing while at the same time reveling in the search for neutrinos. At Sanford Lab here in the hills the Large Underground Xenon (LUX) dark matter experiment is composed of one third of a ton of liquid xenon surrounded with sensitive light detectors inside a titanium vessel. The theory is that a dark matter particle will collide with a xenon atom inside the detector and a tiny burst of light will be emitted that can be detected. It is supposed to be one of the most sensitive scientific instruments ever devised. This huge effort at enormous cost has yet to yield any direct observation. LUX hasn’t detected a single particle of dark matter. The response of the scientists is to be deep into the planning and fund raising for an even larger detector, something on the scale of ten times of the present experiment, surpassing the world’s largest detector, buried int he ice of Antarctica.
All of this effort is to detect a particle that has not been directly observed. It is entirely possible that LUX will never detect a particle of dark matter.
And they call theology speculative.
It is, of course, a matter of perspective.
I happen to support physics research. I think building the large detectors has the potential to yield great discoveries and to push the limits of human knowledge and understanding the the universe. I think it is a worthy endeavor. But there are other ways to invest human thinking and energy that are equally worthy. Still, don’t expect theological seminaries or philosophy departments to be able to raise the kind of funding and attention afforded to speculative physics research. We’ve set national priorities and established agenda that favor some fields of study over others.
That is where knowing a bit of the history and philosophy of science is useful. The study of theology was a part of human life for thousands of years before the development of scientific method. Dismissing the book of Genesis as “unscientific” misses the point entirely. It comes from a period of human history before scientific methodologies existed. The study of theology will remain long after current scientific explorations are labeled primitive by new discoveries.
Thinking about the nature of God is a worthy human endeavor. It may even be one of the outcomes of the effort to detect dark matter.