Letters: Science and soul
Atkins states that ‘Science gnaws through the cosmic bun, digesting
as it goes’. If I may quote T. H. Huxley, ‘the known is finite, the unknown
infinite; intellectually we stand on an islet in the midst of an ocean of
inexplicability. . .’ This implies that the cosmic bun is somewhat indigestible,
since for every mouthful that science consumes, twice the amount is created.
Michael Rossell Dorking
Letters: Science and soul
I was trained as a chemist, and all my working life has been spent in
hard science. I yield to no one in my enthusiasm for the discipline; for
its practical power and the conceptual joy it brings. I do not consider
there are any forbidden areas of enquiry.
And yet. . . I am concerned with the whole of reality; which includes
what I experience. And there are so many questions unanswered, some of which
‘lie too deep for words’. As an ordinary, fully committed practitioner of
science, and despite my huge and profound love for the subject, it has come
nowhere near to fully satisfying me as an inquiring entity.
E. C. Kirby Pitlochry, Scotland
Letters: Science and soul
When Peter Atkins refers to ‘the truth of the ultimate insignificance
of all human activity’, does this embrace scientific activity itself?
Could it possibly even include writing articles for New 杏吧原创?
Harry Morgan Morden, Surrey
Letters: Two tiers
New 杏吧原创 (1 August) contained two interesting advertisements one
above the other on page 75. The upper advertisement was for science graduates
to work in permanent, pensionable positions in the House of Commons. Two
ranges of starting salaries were given – 拢14 390 to 拢16 451,
and 拢17 619 to 拢21 713 – the latter presumably for those with
a higher degree. Immediately beneath this was an advertisement for a Postdoctoral
Senior Research Assistant at the University of Liverpool. The post was for
one year in the first instance with possible renewal to a further year.
The salary range given was 拢12 129 to 拢14 359.
As you can see the top of the range of the postdoctoral post does not
reach the bottom of the House of Commons position, although this latter
was only for a graduate. London weighting, normally 拢2134, cannot
account for this difference, as for a more highly qualified candidate the
House of Commons was willing to pay 拢7359 more than the university
post.
We in the universities have been told that our request for a 5 per cent
basic pay rise has been vetoed by the government because it is inflationary
(ignoring the fact that nurses and teachers received 7.5 per cent, just
prior to the election). How then can the House of Commons justify using
such inflationary pay offers to lure scientists into permanent positions,
when the wonderful opportunities of postdoctoral uncertainty and appalling
pay go begging in the universities?
Sarah Andrew Lancaster
Letters: Innocent aerosols
I am writing on behalf of the British Aerosol Manufacturers’ Association
regarding ‘Japan turns on the heat to destroy CFCs’ (Technology, 11 July).
The article quoted Ikuo Tamori as saying ‘The biggest users of CFCs
vary from country to country. In Europe, most CFCs come from aerosols. .
.’
I would like to point out to your readers that virtually all consumer
aerosols are free of CFCs and have been so since 1989. CFC-free aerosols
account for over 90 per cent of the total produced in Britain. Aerosol household
products have not contained CFCs for over 20 years.
On a global scale, CFC propellants in aerosols now account for less
than 14 per cent of the world production of CFC compounds – far less than
those used as refrigerants (39 per cent) and in the manufacture of flexible
and rigid foam (39 per cent).
David Roberts British Aerosol Manufacturers’ Association London
Letters: Cockroach balls
Harry Miller’s cockroach balls (Letters, 1 August) confirm the effectiveness
of boric acid which has been used here against cockroaches for half a century.
Unfortunately, anyone in Britain making up Miller’s home-made remedy
is liable to prosecution under the Control of Pesticide Regulations 1986,
which make it a criminal offence to use as a pesticide any formulation not
specifically approved for the purpose.
However, encapsulated insecticides and the synthesis of insect growth
regulators provide cockroach control that is also environmentally acceptable
– along with a few officially registered and approved formulations of boric
acid.
P. L. G. Bateman British Pest Control Association Derby
Letters: More on MIF
The scientific explanations proposed to answer the question about how
the order of addition of milk and tea affects the taste of the final drink
suggest that the milk protein casein is denatured at the temperatures involved
(Letters, 11 July). The caseins are unusual proteins in that they possess
little or no recognisable structure and are relatively unaffected by heat
treatment, suffering no denaturation either in the sense of a conformational
change or as a rearrangement of disulphide bridges.
The caseins are, however, known to complex with polyphenols so the initial
suggestions of Ward and Beck and Forrester do seem plausible. Among possible
heat-induced reactions which could interfere with their complex-forming
ability are interactions between k-casein (mostly found on the surface of
casein micelles) and the serum proteins. It is possibly this reaction which
interferes with the casein/polyphenol complex formation and produces the
reported effects on the taste of strong tea.
David Horne Hannah Research Institute Ayr, Scotland
Letters: More on MIF
I have much enjoyed the reasons your readers give for the source of
tea and the putting of Milk In First (MIF). Some time ago I heard a man
from the Wedgwood company describe the origins of this ritual on a radio
programme. It seems it began in the 16th century. The rich and noble used
bone-china tea services imported from the Far East. The finest quality sets
were those in which the ceramic was so thin it was translucent; but they
tended to crack when hot tea was poured directly into them. Some wise head
found that a little milk, poured into the cup first, acted as a satisfactory
thermal cushion. Thus was born MIF.
Roger Young Watton, Norfolk
Letters: Clever cat
I have seen not a dog, but a cat just sitting and thinking (Forum, 25
July). For reasons of which Donald Gould would not disapprove, I needed
to trap a feral cat, to which end I borrowed a cat trap from the RSPCA.
Although I have made an adequate living as a mechanical design engineer,
it took me a couple of minutes to work out how to position the various rods
and links to set and bait the trap; which done, I observed from a concealed
position. The cat duly arrived, studied the trap suspiciously from different
angles, retired, sat and contemplated. Then, after less time that it has
taken me to work it out, she entered the trap purposefully, placed her paws
underneath the trip plate, took the food and backed out.
My professional embarrassment at being upstaged by a cat was tempered
by the knowledge that she had provided vindication of the beliefs of Donald
Gould, whose classic writings are such a joy to those of us who still love
the English language.
C. G. Martin Stoke-on-Trent
Letters: Science and soul
As a student of both science and philosophy, I was saddened by the hostility
shown by the scientist Peter Atkins (‘Will science ever fail?’, 8 August)
towards the philosopher Mary Midgley (‘Can science save its soul?’, 1 August).
Midgley defends science but attacks scientism, the extension of science
into regions beyond its competence. Atkin’s reply begins with a fierce ad
hominum argument accusing Midgley of being motivated by fear. There is no
evidence for this in her article; and the claim that her alleged fear is
‘subconcious’ is unverifiable. Atkins himself therefore breaches the proper
competence of science straightaway. Neither is there any evidence that
Midgley’s views are grounded in, or responding to, any religious doctrine;
yet Atkins assumes, bizarrely, that an attack on religion counts as an attack
on Midgley.
Atkins’s central assumption is that science is the only legitimate conception
of inquiry; but science is not itself competent to verify this claim. Similarly,
the claim that science is omnicompetent is necessarily issued from a standpoint
outside the scientific domain. That the domain of science has expanded in
the past is no guarantee of its omniscience in the future.
I doubt that it is in the nature of science ever to arrive at a destination
– but imagine that it did so. Would science then provide an objective and
testable formula for the best application of its own powers? No, because
there cannot be a science of values. Value judgements cannot in principle
be measured or compared scientifically: but they are amenable to conceptual
analysis, which is the proper province of philosophy.
杏吧原创s tend to denigrate philosophy for the very bad reason that
it’s not science. But philosophy is a distinct, rational and legitimate
conception of inquiry – one that reaches the parts other conceptions of
inquiry cannot reach.
Mark Vernon Gosport, Hants
Letters: Science and soul
Peter Atkins misses what should be an obvious point, failing to note
that science attempts to describe and explain what tends to happen, where
there are other, equally valid, areas of human thought and investigation
which concern themselves with what should happen (areas such as ethics and
aesthetics). It is not clear that science can assimilate such areas of thought;
nor is it an easily defended claim that they are somehow flawed or irrational.
Barry Lee London
Letters: Science and soul
Atkins says that history ‘gives us reason to believe that it (science)
is omnicompetent’ – a statement he clearly offers as a balanced historical
judgment, whereas it is merely the statement of a personal, quasi-religious
faith.
Such pronouncements are not new, the earliest being in Ahmose’s introduction
to the circa BC 1800 Rhind Papyrus as ‘Rules for inquiring into nature,
and for knowing all that exists, every mystery. . . every secret’. We are
all entitled to make our own acts of faith; but to pretend that they are
anything else is disingenuous.
He speaks of ‘truth’ and ‘consciousness’ (‘the truth of the ultimate
insignificance of all human activity’ and ‘Conciousness includes a variety
of strands. . .’) as if these were transparent concepts, whereas they are,
surely, among our least understood and most contentious ones. What does
he mean by truth in this context? Isn’t this insignificance a matter of
opinion? And does he really know what consciousness is?
He blithely mentions ‘the scientific method’, whereas most 20th century
philosophers, from Karl Popper onwards, would tell him that there is no
such thing. His diatribes against religion are based on antiquated, medieval
views from which modern theologians have long been disassociating themselves
(has Atkins not heard of Don Cupitt?).
Ivan Tolstoy Knockvennie
Letters: Science and soul
In attacking scientism, Mary Midgley attributes various qualities to
science. But since when has science had ‘a function’, a ‘soul’, a ‘mind’,
‘instincts’, ‘scope’, ‘capacity’ and ‘powers’? Since when has it ‘made claims’,
‘looked universal’, ‘practised austere modesty’? It is men and women who
have these attributes and do these things.
Harry West Honiton, Devon
Letters: Science and soul
The scientific method is certainly harder work than ‘other ways of thinking’
like religious faith or commonsense intuition, and it requires more humility
from its practitioners. However, the knowledge it provides is of correspondingly
greater utility. Because of this, the scientific method represents our best
hope of solving the many problems we face as individuals, as a society and
as a species.
However, our most important problems are in the fields of politics and
ethics, and these are precisely the areas from which the likes of Midgley
and Bryan Appleyard seek to exclude it.
Steve Boyde Guisborough, Cleveland
Letters: Science and soul
Peter Atkins says ‘. . . science can illuminate moral and spiritual
questions. . .’ This is not dissimilar to claiming that an understanding
of the working of a gramophone groove illuminates the musical ability of
a Bach or a Beethoven.
John Martin King’s College London
Letters: Science and soul
To reduce belief to a single word, fear, is surely a gross oversimplification.
I have the advantage over Atkins, in that I don’t have to imagine being
terminally ill. I am currently fighting an illness with science-derived
technology, love and compassion; believe me, there is no room in my world-view
for his ‘harsh reality of extinction on death’. Belief in the survival of
something beyond death requires no more suspension of reason than belief
in some of the fantastic theories Atkins’s colleagues tried to drum into
me about nuclear physics. Does he have any direct evidence for the existence
of neutrinos?
One thing that a science degree taught me was to be open-minded and
not dismissive of others’ belief structures, however unreasonable.
Surely the ‘answer’ (and why should there even be one?) lies somewhere
in the vast expanse of middle ground between Midgley and Atkins. Meanwhile,
I’m going to continue fighting ‘extinction’ to the ‘bitter end’ because
my life depends on it.
Steve Currie Camberley, Surrey