Science

SCIENCE. – By the term s. (Lat. scientia = knowledge, Gk. ἐπιστήμη) has always knowledge (v.) different from and more perfect than ordinary knowledge: a difference and perfection due not so much to the object as to the manner of knowing. The nature of this particular kind of knowledge has been defined in different ways according to differing mentalities and the varying expansion and deepening of knowledge itself. According to the ancient meaning, the typical s. philosophy (v.); in the modern meaning, the typical s. physics (v.), to whose methods and characteristics the other disciplines aspiring to the dignity of s. must conform. It is clear that only the modern meaning adequately distinguishes scientific knowledge from philosophical knowledge, and therefore only with the birth of s. in the modern sense (with Galilean physics) was conscious possession acquired of the various articulations of knowledge: ordinary, scientific, and philosophical knowledge. The distinction among these three forms of knowledge may be expressed by saying that the first is resolved in observation, the second in lawful description, and the third in explanation and evaluation. This formula also expresses the autonomy of s. with regard to philosophy, even though such autonomy must not exclude collaboration.

The definition of the ancient concept of s. is under Aristotle (v.). For the former, s. is knowledge of authentic reality (intelligible, ideal) and not of the spurious reality that is the sensible world. S. is thus constituted by emancipating itself from the ministry of the senses. S. induction (v.), physics, hypothesis (v.); deduction (v.), philosophy (v.), dialectic ([v.] cf. especially Respubl., VI–VII, in particular 510–34). Aristotle definitively theorizes the ideal of syllogism (v.) unfolding within the realm of necessity and universality. The syllogism that necessarily concludes from necessary and universal premises is the sole instrument of s. Any breach in necessity and universality is a breach in the scientific character of knowledge. Deductive syllogism provides, in the premise, the reason or cause of the conclusion: scientific knowledge may therefore also be defined as causal knowledge (efficient-

The concept of s. as a necessary syllogism endured throughout the Middle Ages. Even s. Thomas makes a classification of the s. in the Aristotelian spirit, with the doctrine of the three degrees of abstraction (v.) which, successively disregarding individual, sensible, and intelligible matter (matter is the antithetical element of universality), establish physics, mathematics, and philosophy.

While the reflected concept of s. remained that of a demonstrative, deductive, necessary, and universal form of knowledge, human knowledge in fact continued to grow richer, more complex, and more specific along a path different from the one theorized. This was a fact of the greatest importance, because it was precisely along this path that new ways of knowing were being attempted which, once they had acquired security and self-awareness, were to become s. in the modern sense. Aristotle, moreover, already presents accurate descriptions of natural history (cf. De part. animal.; De gener. animal.; Hist. animal.); and in the Hellenistic period investigations (such as biology, astronomy, and medicine) began to develop which, since they could not be accommodated within it, remained at the margins of philosophy: experience, the great matrix of the modern s., was thus present from that time onward. It is true that during the centuries of the early Middle Ages the scientific value of experience was disregarded, an allegorical and mystical interpretation of nature being superimposed upon it (an interpretation that continued sporadically into the seventeenth century, with Kepler, for example); but in the thirteenth century (Alberto Magno, Ruggero Bacone, Roberto Grossatesta [v.]), and still more in the fourteenth century (Occam [v.] and the Occamists such as Buridano [v.], Oresme, Alberto di Sassonia [v.], etc.), the authentic sense of nature and the value of experience were once again securely, though slowly and confusedly, recovered. It was precisely from this orientation, which may be called naturalistic, that the new concept of s. was to become clear, although during the centuries of the renewed influence of the ancients (fifteenth–sixteenth centuries) it would again be contaminated with the animistic and magical fantasies of the pseudosciences (Telesio [v.], Paracelso [v.], Cardano [v.], Agrippa [v.], etc.).

Finally, GALILEA (v.) brought to a conclusion the effort of many centuries by creating, with dynamics, the first s. in the modern sense and at the same time formulating its new concept with assurance. S., according to Galileo, must abandon the search for essences, for the why, and for value, and limit itself to the lawful description of phenomena: the law, that is, the constant relation between elements of experience, is the object of scientific research, and induction is its proper method. Galileo clearly outlined the essential stages of the method: observation, hypothesis, verification. Observation, in which what matters is not quantity but manner. Hypothesis, which is an anticipation of the answer to the problem posed. Verification, which is the ratification or rejection of the hypothesis, brought about by nature itself through experiment (cf. Lettera a Liceti, in Opere, ed. naz., XVIII, especially pp. 208, 249; Saggiatore, ed. cit., VI, especially pp. 232, 348–49; Massimi sistemi, ed. cit., VII, especially pp. 60, 64–65, 126, 128, 171, 273). S. thus acquires its complete autonomy by defining itself according to its own object and its own method. It is important to observe that this structure of s. is made possible by considering reality under its solely quantitative aspect: mathematics (v.) as an indispensable element of s. Only through mathematics is experience rationalized and made necessary; hence, without mathematics there is no s. Here above all the difference between Galileo and Fr. Bacone (v.), often regarded as the founder or co-founder of modern s., becomes apparent. Bacone (cf. especially the Novum organum) suspects neither law nor mathematics nor experiment. He still moves within the sphere of qualitative and essential inquiry, although he deserves credit for his clear denunciation of the sterility of the deductive method and his appeal to observation and experience. This denunciation and appeal, however, had already been made ELEUSIO (v.) and, with greater adequacy, LEO, LEONARDO (v.), the authentic precursor of Galileo.

The history of the concept of s. in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries once again presents oscillations around the equilibrium between experience and reason so admirably defined by Galileo. Philosophers, whether rationalists (such as Malebranche [v.] and Spinoza [v.]) or empiricists (such as Locke [v.] and Condillac [v.]), revive the now superseded concept of s. as deductive and a priori knowledge, which in the latter case is resolved outright into a nominalistic and tautological systematization. Descartes himself (Discours, part 4; Medit., III; Principia, preface and bk. I, especially bk. III § 43–44; also Regulae, III, V), moreover, conceived physics as a deduction from the concept of intelligible extension, even though this very concept enabled him to accept mathematical treatment and thereby to give value to the Galilean principle. Rather, among scientists, alongside the legacy of Galilean s., the legacy of its concept continued, with emphasis on the experimental aspect. Thus Newton set forth the canons of a methodical procedure in which the anticipatory and rational moment was somewhat minimized (“hypotheses non fingo”) in favor of an extension of the guiding and conclusive efficacy of experience (cf. generally Philosophiae naturalis principia mathematica, especially bk. III, beginning and scholium, and Optices, bk. III, especially qq. 28 and 31). The Newtonian orientation predominated in the eighteenth century, just as the Cartesian orientation had dominated the preceding century.

With an entirely new approach, Kant (v.) sought to reproduce the Galilean equilibrium: autonomy of s. with regard to philosophy, synthesis of experience and reason, and rationalization of experience. Autonomy, however, becomes phenomenon (v.) noumenon (v.); the synthesis of experience and reason is no longer merely methodological but becomes structural; and the rationalization of experience becomes its (universal) subjectivization. Thus romanticism (v.), which, on the basis of idealistic subjectivism, transforms, while taking it up again, the univocal concept of knowledge, in which s. becomes a more or less authentic moment of philosophical (deductive, a priori) knowledge. Positivism (v.), while accepting the same‑

thesis of the univocity of knowledge, reverses the position by seeing philosophy as a moment of the authentic knowledge, which is scientific knowledge (experimental, a posteriori). Positivism, by asserting the experimental and inductive character of s., reaffirmed with greater rigor its descriptive and law-governed nature. In it, one may say, began that critical purification of scientific procedures which is principally directed toward avoiding problems that exceed the sphere of descriptive legality and eliminating from the meanings of words the either metempirical or approximate content that they unconsciously carry. But the narrowness of its epistemological premises prevented positivist s. from justifying itself as universally valid knowledge, and prevented the positivist law from presenting itself as a formula of necessity; while pride—moreover, not entirely unjustified—in the marvelous scientific progress of the 19th century drove the less cautious to canonize the ensemble of the scientific theories of that time as the true and absolute representation of the universe, and consequently to define the processes and methods of s. as the sole valid use of the instruments of knowledge.

A reaction restoring s. to a more exact awareness of its own nature and limits could not be long delayed. This occurred toward the end of the century on the part of philosophers and scientists who, against the positivist claim, formulated the new thesis of the practical and not theoretical value of s. (cf. E. Boutroux, De la contingence des lois de la nature, Paris 1874; E. Mach, Analysis der Empfindungen, Vienna 1886). This thesis, extended to mathematics by Poincaré (v. l.'Science et hypothèse, Paris 1902; id., La valeur de la science, ibid. 1905), and to knowledge in general by pragmatism ([v.] Peirce, James, Dewey), became one of the epistemological theses characteristic of contemporary thought, taken up again by modern irrationalist and anti-intellectualist, as well as rationalist and idealist, philosophies (e.g., B. Croce). The most audacious and most current developments of the new concept of s. are found, also under the influence of the most recent revolutions in scientific theories (relativity, quantum theory, probabilism), in the formalist and neopositivist schools (R. Carnap, Logische Syntax der Sprache, Vienna 1934).

According to the formalist approach (Russell, Hilbert, etc.), s. must strive, as its goal, to become formalized, that is, to constitute itself as a hypothetical-deductive system, in which the principles of deduction renounce all intuitive content and the deductive procedure itself is resolved into pure rules of transformation. Thus s. loses its concern with content and truth, while the demand for form and exactness is exalted, until perfect scientificity is reached in the perfectly empty and perfectly exact schema, which in itself signifies nothing. Parallel to this tendency, especially prevalent among mathematicians and concerning mathematics, is the tendency of physicists with regard to physics. They too (physicists such as Heisenberg, philosophers such as the Vienna Circle), while on the one hand, aspiring to perfect systematic rigor, nominalism (v.) and toward s. as coherence, or at least toward the reduction of physics to mathematical formulas, on the other hand cannot cut their ties with experience and consequently propose an operational criterion that ensures the greatest rigor by delimiting the sphere of the physical entity as that of the entity definable by experiment (real or ideal), that is, ultimately, as that of the measurable entity and of the entity insofar as it is measurable. And this could be viewed as a development of the Galilean concept of s. if this doctrine were not founded on empiricist-nominalist epistemological presuppositions that disregard the nonmeasurable and nonexperimental elements implied in every moment of s.

The theoretical value of s. is nevertheless still defended in an idealist sense (e.g., B. Varisco, Scienza e opinione, Rome 1901; L. Brunschvicg, Le progrès de la conscience dans la philosophie occidentale, Paris 1927), in a relativist sense (e.g., A. Aliotta, L'esperimento nella s., nella filosofia, nella religione, Naples 1936), in a rationalist sense (G. Bachelard, La formation de l'esprit scientifique, Paris 1938), and in a realist sense (E. Meyerson, Du cheminement de la pensée, ibid. 1931; E. Orestano, Verità dimostrate, Naples 1934, especially chs. 3–5; J. Maritain, Les degrés du savoir, Paris 1932, especially part 1ª, chs. 2, 4).

However the various positions of contemporary thought just recalled may be judged, one cannot fail to acknowledge that at least one of the Galilean achievements has generally remained in them: the autonomy of s. with regard to philosophy. And, consequently, also with regard to religion (v.): hence today people are for the most part convinced of the futility of the alleged conflict between s. faith (v.), which so concerned the generation of the last century. It is perhaps to be feared, on the contrary, that autonomy may become estrangement, indifference, and incomprehension, threatening the unity of the spirit and the harmony of the subject. In addition to the references already indicated, V. also: CONOSCENZA; ESPERIENZA; IDEA; METODOLOGIA; NEOPOSITIVISMO; VERITÀ.

The alleged conflict between science and faith would arise from the fact that faith, with its method of authority, its dogmas intolerant of progress, evolution, and adaptation to modern thought, and its immobile rigidity, is poorly suited—or rather cannot at all be reconciled—with science, which is always in motion with its procedures of free inquiry and free criticism, anxiously striving toward progress, the revision of outdated positions, and ever broader and deeper investigations. Consequences: the Catholic who wishes truly to remain one can never be a true scientist; a kind of dichotomy of the Catholic is necessary, in the dual personality of believer and critic or scientist; and the conflict between science and faith must culminate in the complete implementation of Voltaire’s motto: « ceci tuera cela », naturally understanding « ceci » to mean science and « cela » faith.

1. The position of the Church

2. The position of the adversaries. — The position of the adversaries, however, is not so clear and transparent, given the confusion prevailing in their points of departure, although all converge in the assertion that it is impossible to be Catholic and at the same time a lover of a free and modern culture. Here we mention the principal objections, followed by their refutation.

a) Science, say the proponents of the alleged conflict, must be entirely free, obey no preconceived ideas, and accept no imposed solutions. Now the Catholic scientist, if he wishes to remain one, will necessarily have to approach history, philosophy, ethnography, and so forth with ideas already imposed and determined (the dogmas and doctrines of the Church), and therefore preconceived; this deprives his investigations and conclusions of all scientific value. The answer is easy: these same adversaries, who take such pleasure in boasting of the complete freedom of their inquiries, are themselves victims of a prejudice, of a preconceived idea, because every rationalistic procedure is governed (whether they wish to admit it or not) by their own negative and absolute premise: the exclusion of the supernatural and of the possibility of a real transcendent being, and the impossibility or unhistorical character of a divine Revelation. The materialist, who denies God because he is transcendent and not immanent in the universe; the rationalist, who wishes to demonstrate that God does not enter into the governance and history of the world; the evolutionist, who asserts that man derives soul and body from the beast, and so forth, obey principles that they have accepted as incontrovertible; they follow or create their own philosophy; in other words, they obey preconceived ideas. Moreover, it must be said that every scientific work must necessarily presuppose a certain number of preconceived ideas: the historian must possess some conception of the world and of life; the philosopher cannot disregard the truths proclaimed by common sense; the scientist must begin from positions already scientifically proven by earlier scientists, on pain of failing to advance science if he wishes to retrace the entire path from the beginning.

Nor should the scientific character of a work be judged a priori by whether its conclusion is favorable or unfavorable to the adversary’s ideas; rather, in determining whether it is scientific or not, one must examine the method according to which it was composed, that is, whether it was conducted in accordance with the principles and laws of that particular science.

To anyone who might then observe that the impossibility of the supernatural is now a philosophically acquired certainty, it may be replied that its possibility too is, for the Catholic, a philosophically acquired certainty; here everything depends not on an a priori assertion concerning the value of a particular philosophy, but on the documented and examined proofs upon which it rests.

b) It is observed that the Catholic is never merely a scientist, but is also an apologist; he does not seek truth for its own sake, but in the service of defending his beliefs, and this apologetic concern distorts his judgment. It may be conceded that some Catholic scientists also have apologetics in view, as indeed happens in the opposing camp, where proofs and facts are readily bent to the defense of a particular theory, for example, a Marxist or monist one (one need only think of the accumulation of fanciful tales collected by Draper and presented as true historical facts, or of the famous falsifications introduced by Haeckel into the series of embryos); but not all Catholic scientists are apologists. Rather, they concern themselves with proving and documenting the facts, allowing truth to defend itself by appearing alone in the clear light of their exposition. Here too it will suffice to examine whether the particular methods and principles of science have truly been followed, and to infer the scientific character or otherwise of the work from the result of this examination.

c) The Catholic is not free in his researches, because his conclusions are imposed upon him beforehand by an external authority. The answer requires a distinction. First of all, it must be noted that Revelation has no intention whatsoever of taking the place of scientific procedures, as though depriving them of their reason for being; nor does it positively teach the sciences, establishing their principles and methods; rather, it merely makes known—and therefore rejects as errors, insofar as they contradict the infallible testimony of God—many positions and conclusions that the philosopher or scientist might be tempted to accept as scientific truths, or at least as hypotheses awaiting future proof (cf. Pius XII’s encyclical Humani generis of 12 Aug. 1950, in the section concerning polygenism: AAS, 42 [1950], p. 579). “The Catholic scientist must keep divine Revelation before his eyes as a star that directs his journey, whose light will serve to warn him of the reefs to be avoided” (Letter of Pius IX to the archbishop of Munich, 21 Dec. 1863 [Denz-U, no. 1681]).

And when the Church intervenes in such cases, she does not sit among the scientists as one of them, but speaks with the authority of God the revealer, as one entrusted from above with preserving them from error and deviation. Now, there are conclusions that belong exclusively to pure science, and in this field the Church does not intervene (e.g., she does not dictate laws to the scientist who studies electricity or biology) within their sphere of competence; but there are also conclusions that belong to a mixed domain, that is, to both science and faith (e.g., the origin of man, the spirituality of the soul, the descent of the human race from a single primitive stock: Adam and Eve, etc.), and then the Church intervenes in order to prevent errors and deviations.

Nor does the scientist, as a Catholic, accept the fact of Revelation and the authority of the Church without well-founded and incontrovertible reasons; nor are arguments lacking by which to prove them in a certain and secure manner. Neither does he confuse what is dogma with the philosophical, exegetical, and historical proofs produced in support of the dogma, when the Church’s magisterium has not pronounced upon them. In this way he possesses perfect unity in his thought and is not obliged to divide himself unnaturally into two persons foreign to one another: the believer and the scientist.

d) A final objection: when the Catholic undertakes an examination of religious facts, he not only admits from the outset the possibility of Revelation, but already acts on the basis of its reality; in other words, the facts that he wishes to adduce as rational proof of assent to dogma, he already sees in the light of that dogma. It must be answered that nothing prevents dogmas, already accepted by our minds, from influencing or being able in some way to influence the orientation of our investigations; for why should the believer not also strengthen his faith by means of a purely rational and autonomous process, whenever this is possible? Why should he not begin from purely rational principles and arrive at rational conclusions that coincide perfectly with his faith? Indeed, the existence of God, which is a dogma of faith, can and must also be admitted through a purely rational process; hence the Catholic scientist is in no way impaired if he already knows in advance, by another path—the path of faith—the goal at which he must arrive.

3. The Religious Character of Science — In the two addresses on scientific subjects delivered by Pius XII to the Pontifical Academy of Sciences (22 Nov. 1951; AAS, 44 [1952], pp. 31-43) and to the World Congress of Astronomy

(7 Sept. 1952; ibid., pp. 732-39), the Holy Father also wished to formulate clearly another problem: that of the religious character of science. On the one hand, scientific investigations, by bringing to light the intrinsic mutability and the structural and functional contingency of the cosmos, reaffirm the objective validity of the Thomistic rational arguments concerning the existence of God, which can today be reconsidered on a broader, more critical, and deeper empirical basis; on the other hand, the conquest of cosmic space has demonstrated the limited nature of scientific knowledge, the finiteness of the inquiring spirit and of the cosmos investigated, so that man must also halt before insurmountable frontiers; hence the necessary affirmation of the existence of God, the eternal creative spirit.

Science, therefore, is “religious” because it is “bound to God,” both by the object of its investigations (the cosmos) and by the knowing subject (the human spirit); the cosmos and the human spirit are, although on essentially different levels, finite beings, brought into existence through creation, and therefore refer back, by a causal deductive process, to God. Consequently, the reconciliation between faith and science presupposes two principles: “the first, that the method of the sciences is valid only within the sphere in which they are genuinely competent, namely, that of the senses; the second, that beyond physical cognitions and realities there are other realities, metaphysical ones—for example, causality—which do not depend upon sense data but upon universal ontological laws. Far from being inferior in certainty to the laws of sensible nature, these are superior to them, since they apply to every being as such. Now they lead with irresistible force to the natural knowledge of God” (His Holiness Pius XII to the students of the Studium Urbis, 15 June 1952).

First of all, a distinction must be made between s. as such, that is, the profound and disinterested investigation of natural phenomena in order to discover their causes and laws, and technology as the quantitative knowledge and practical and economic utilization of the forces and goods of nature. Even when one speaks of “men” who can “enjoy” technical progress, it must be clarified whether this refers to a few men or to the greatest possible number, to certain nations or to all peoples, to certain social classes or to all of them, and whether this is understood merely as a right or also as its effective implementation.

At least as a tendency, when one speaks of men, all men must be understood: every discrimination runs counter to a requirement of social justice, which must be implemented not only with regard to access to economic goods, but also to access to s. and to the use of technical means. Today immense sectors of humanity still lack scientific knowledge and technical possibilities, owing to economic deficiencies and imbalances, but also because of the inadequate interest of public authorities and of individuals or communities themselves, who do not understand their importance and urgency. There is not the same enthusiasm for scientific and technical knowledge as, for example, there is for other remunerations, for the possession of economic goods, and even, to a lesser degree, for literary and artistic culture; whereas humanistic culture itself today cannot dispense with scientific and technical knowledge, since the two together constitute the environment in which the real “man” of today lives.

Having established this, certain observations will facilitate the proposed moral evaluation: 1) every scientific-technical piece of knowledge and device is by its nature a means and must never become an end; 2) s. and technology possess an intimate autonomy of their own: their laws are in themselves realities and truths and, as such, when maintained within their proper sphere, possess their own absoluteness, which fears neither external influences nor corruption.

It follows from the first observation that technical progress as such cannot be given a moral judgment except in relation to the ends it is made to serve: neither electric energy, nor a new metal alloy, nor an ingenious mechanism, nor even the atomic bomb is subject to moral judgment; everything depends on the use made of it, that is, on the ends toward which such means are directed.

It follows from the second observation that s. and technology contain laws that cannot be altered by the will of man, and cannot be concealed or falsely presented without violating a fundamental honesty. In particular, s., as the disinterested search for truth, is a commitment of man, endowed by God with intelligence and a vocation to inquiry. In this respect, every discovery is always a good and a reason for giving glory to God. As for technology, since its problems are always connected with economic ones, the moral judgment on a technical application must take its economic effects into account: in particular, whether it produces an honest or dishonest, individual or social, immediate or future benefit.

When, in judging technology, one passes to judging “technicians,” a third observation must be added: 3) every scientist or technician is always and above all a man. Although technology is a means, the technician, as a man, must never, either by himself or by others, be reduced to the rank of an instrument. At no moment can he be indifferent to the results of his work: as a technician, he has the duty to perform his work with scrupulous objectivity; as a man, he must take a position regarding the free choices that men may make concerning the possibilities offered by technology.

A fourth and final observation may be made in defense of technology against the pessimists: 4) in itself, it is a means of freeing man, all men, from material necessities and enabling him to devote himself increasingly to the needs of the spirit. If this does not seem to be happening today, the blame cannot be attributed to technology but rather to the will of men.

In essence, as the means in man’s possession increase, his temptations increase as well (understood as external trials; the interior problem, evidently, remaining not necessarily connected with such external trials). And although this does not in itself constitute a worsening of the situation, since it also increases the merits of those who resist, it is necessary to be intensely concerned with the necessary moral strengthening of man, on both the natural and supernatural levels, so that he may be capable of resisting the stronger impulses to which he is subjected. In other words, moral progress must proceed hand in hand with technical progress.