(This is the third part of a three part series that anecdotally explores the fundamental question of whether science is an adequate tool/system /conduit to arriving at truth)
The insanity of specialization
These days, when I go to a
doctor, I feel like the elephant that was analyzed by five blind men. I get
shunted from the trunk-lady to the foot-dude who consults the tail-gal who speaks
to the ear-guy who phones up the mahout. Each selectively tests everything from
my teeth enamel to my toe nails. Each gives me five different types of
medication specific to each person’s specialization. They attack my wallet to
the tune of fifty thousand rupees and turn me into a chronic, serial pill
popper. Almost, I want to tap them on
their shoulders and whisper “people, it is the whole darn elephant that is
sick, not the elephant’s trunk. That is only diseased. Curing that will only
cure the disease not the sickness”.
I know it won’t do any good though. Specialization has blinded these
people and telling them they are blind won’t give them back their sight. Nor
will it give sight to those who equally blindly believe in these sightless
scientific surgeons when they poke and prod at people, ideas and things,
hitting a few, missing a lot and mostly destroying the things on which their intellectual
scalpels land.
I’ve written about this many times
in many ways but this line of thinking started some fifteen years ago because
of a casual statement made by an American busker (and biochemist) named Stewart
on the banks of the Huron river at the University of Michigan. My guitar and
his harmonica were talking to each other under a bower of maple, linden and
aspen blazing their autumn shades off caramelized leaves. On one of the breaks
from the music he waved his hand to take in the red-gold forest and casually
said “AJ, did you know that most trees are standing on their heads?” and
I’m like “huh?”. He shrugged. “Think about it, most of them absorb
nutrients through their roots and excrete oxygen and water vapor through
stomata in their leaves”. hmm?! That
was a new one for me although Stu’s observation is as old as the hills.
“I’ve never thought of them
that way before” I said as I put my guitar down. As I pondered what he
said, something triggered, something kindled, something became. “mmm… so too
is the tree of knowledge”. He’s like “huh?”
“Think about it” I said.
“The source energy of the knowledge tree comes from the roots. Not the trunk, large
branches, sub-branches, twigs, leaves or fruit. Those are the outcomes of
processing root nutrients not the source of the nutriment itself. We cannot
truly know anything by going up that tree. We must climb down from its sub-branches
to bigger branches to large branches to massive branches to trunk to root. Each
lower level providing baser, greater, wider levels of understanding as to why
the entire tree from root to fruit exists”.
Stu had this habit of rapidly
popping his lips when he is thinking of something and he popped away for a long
time, his double barreled harmonica forgotten before he said (paraphrased) “So
a huge branch would be the physical sciences, a big branch would be chemistry,
a smaller one would be biochemistry, a twig would be Lipids, a leaf would be cholesterol
and a fruit would be the finding that cholesterol is bad. So if a biochemist
says cholesterol is bad, that finding is the excrement of some fundamental food
intake of a form and source that chemistry knows nothing about?”.
I nodded vigorously. “And,
here’s the thing. You will have to drill down below chemistry to figure out if
your conclusion about cholesterol is good shit or not. You have to know the
reason why the massive branch of the physical sciences exists in the first
place since chemistry is merely a sub-branch. That will give you a minor
paradigm shift like the crossover from Newtonian to Quantum mechanics. But that is not enough. One level lower you land
on the trunk which is a large paradigm shift such as those being proposed by
the meta-physicists and noetic scientists. That won’t’ cut it either. You will
have to mosey down to the root like the wise and the spiritualists do. Those feed off a plethora of nutrients that
enable them to reflect, assimilate, consolidate, reject, interact, intermesh
and direct their ever growing insight and understanding of wholes within
wholes. Only then can one stabilize knowledge and obtain key clues as to how
the food and why the waste”.
I pulled out a piece of paper
from my backpack and hastily sketched the figure that I have recreated here. He
studied it, engaging in some very serious lip-popping.
“You just now cooked this up?”
“Well yeah, because of what
you said, but it’s pretty obvious and I am sure there are others who’ve come to
the same conclusion before me Stu”.
He shook his head. “No. This
is simpler. Damn it man, following
your reasoning, all that we have been doing for a long time is showering the
world with shit. AJ? That’s some serious shit you are claiming and the thing is
– it makes sense. We are no longer seekers, we are just excrement manufacturers”.
Soon after, I returned to Sri Lanka and Stu?…well… I
dunno. But folks, if all that French was confusing, let me try to explain this
a bit more.
For 400 years, we have refused to
believe that understanding exists at the root of the knowledge tree and conveniently
messed around with twigs, leaves and fruits trying to stand it on its head. Valiantly,
we have attempted to legitimize the case for calling it’s excretory organ its
intake organ. Responding exclusively to symptoms and surface observations, we
have tried to re-label its backside as its mouth. Yet, when we want to describe someone who is
totally with it, we say “she has her ear to the ground” and when we want
to describe someone who has totally lost it we say “he has his head is in
the clouds”. Right? Smile.
Collecting facts into
fact-buckets like biochemistry is selectively useless, merely subscribing to
the fallacious view I described in my previous piece. A view that believes that
everything can be broken down into their component pieces, studied in mutually
disassociated states, deductively or inferentially linked together through
analysis and understood as a whole.
Here is the general rationale: If
you break a car into its component parts, you can understand exactly how it
works and if you put it back together it will come back alive. Here is the
fallacy: If you do that to a dog, once it is put back together it will remain
dead.
Something very essential to the
idea of the living dog, the whole of its existence is lost
in the process of dismembering it. Similarly,
when attempting to understand systems that exist dependent on an infinity of
parameters (living beings, ecosystems, social groups, nations etc.), breaking them
down has only one practical outcome – it breaks them.
But we are never taught that.
Instead, we are told that we must break things into sectors and pieces to know
what is going on in the cosmos despite the fact that the cosmos is neither made
that way nor exists that way nor functions that way. And so, we’ve landed
ourselves with hundreds of specializations and thousands of minor ones, each
basically a fact-bucket. Inside them lives that very strange animal – the
specialist or, the fact-sop - answering a series of (mostly) irrelevant
questions that yields a lot of nothings about mostly everything.
Preoccupied with
crossing the T’s and dotting the I’s, they expend years and dollars to find out
say, “the impact of water droplets on the air-water interface” or, in English,
what happens when a drop of water is dropped into a glass of water, or, in even
simpler English, “oh lord, is this guy serious?” Yes, he is. He
believes, erroneously, that he is manufacturing gourmet chocolate when all he
is doing is making dung.
Let us pause
here for a while and take a careful look around. What has this type of science
done for us? Have we understood the world clearer or made it better? No. As I
said in my last piece, everything science has cooked up is cyclically false.
Moving round and round in circles of error, we are now at Armageddon. Do we
need fact-sops like climate specialists, agriculture experts, energy gurus,
military strategists or money moguls to tell us that? No!
Can we solve it? Sure. There are
no questions that we feel like asking that don’t have solutions, provided that
we are not afraid to look wide and deep. However, acknowledging those two keywords
is a challenge for most. Because of specialization we fear them both.
Instead of scrambling up into the
branches and twigs of the tree of knowledge, we need to scurry down to its
root. Instead of flying up into its canopy like eagles, we need to scratch at
its base like turkeys. Instead of selecting the particular type of tunnel
vision we will use for the rest of our lives, we need to buy ourselves the
widest angled scope possible. Instead of selective facts we need holistic
awareness. We need to be able to study the dog in situ and figure out how it
actually manages to be alive without trying to make mincemeat out of it. Try. I
did. The result is heady. Or, should I say, *smiles* - rooty?