Lizard people and black hole travel. While the two might sound like the opening scenes of the next “Star Trek” movie (no complaints, if so), the two concepts are largely, scientifically speaking, considered completely irrelevant from one another. This brings one to question how, in an age of rationalizing science through mathematics and data, one can draw the line between curriculum and conspiracy theory in the academic setting.
Historically, science sprung from the philosophical. With no concept of quantification, early man relied on what he could sense and simply attributed what he saw to the divine, the heavens, the giant rock-god statue, etc. Science, then, was as much an existential exercise in figuring out what could cause the events they saw happening as an infant experiences in its first years of life. Without an expectation of systematic influence on the observed event, like math, early man was free to see that, while strictly speaking, two rocks plus two more rocks is four rocks, if one of those rocks is actually a snail that crawls away, math was completely useless in seeing that snail coming.
As civilizations developed and grew technologically (usually to meet agricultural or infrastructural needs) into linear thinking that steadily relied more heavily on predictions of the causes of perceived events, mathematical patterns emerged that seemed to coincide with the expected outcome of the events. While most would recognize this as a huge leap forward for the human race, we must acknowledge that in this shift to mathematical explanation, we lost a significant amount of raw information that can be observed but not rationalized by math. This loss is becoming all the more prevalent as scientists begin to explore the farthest depths of the universe.
With the introduction of String Theory, the field of theoretical physics experienced arguably its largest push into mainstream science, offering (in theory) a solution to all problems existing in predicting physics. However, as instruments able to observe and quantify particles, etc. have been developed, the theory’s flaws have come to the forefront of a heated debate amongst the academic community over what constitutes scientific material to be taught as fact in the classroom setting.
If, for example, a professor was to have a discussion on String Theory in a lecture, would he be obligated to present the objections and all counter theories? And to a greater extent, as more and more holes in the theory are exposed, should the theory itself be degraded to the level of conspiracy theory, as opposed to respected scientific hypothesis?
Conventional science would dictate the difference between String Theory and theories of, say, those who believe an advanced race of reptile-aliens run the government, is the mathematical evidence that can be associated with String Theory.
I’d argue that, as science slowly begins to recognize that the universe doesn’t follow the neat, mathematical patterns we’ve based our scientific systems on, both theories are based on observation, flawed or otherwise, and should be given the same exposure in the classroom.
It isn’t that I, personally, subscribe to the reptile-run government theory; if it was, I’d be a happy camper, spending winters under giant, federallyfunded heating lamps; it’s the principle of the educational exposure. If a theory of the nature of particles can be as speculative as the Illuminati, shouldn’t all theories with equal merit, whether mathematical or observation based, be given equal treatment by the curriculum of schools both public and private?
And by extension, when math fails to explain 10 percent of the observed events or qualities, shouldn’t these flaws be highlighted as legitimate holes in the thinking, and not glossed over in favor of the 90 percent that does make the theory work?
The problem seems to stem from the glorification of math that has come as a result of the data-obsessed digital age we’ve entered that places solescientific value on that which can be quantified. Our drive for patterns of numbers that fit what we can’t otherwise explain has driven us into a dangerous place in which the obsession can lead to a blinding of the scientific community to legitimate observation by its need for the numbers to work together.
This, in turn, can lead to theories that work on paper but do nothing to further the understanding of what is occurring in reality.
