Philosophy behind Pseudoscience

Mario Bunge wrote a terrific piece ("The Philosophy behind Pseudoscience," July/ August 2006). I love the many details in his analysis. As important as details are, however, I think a simplified and more basic view is also apt--particularly one Bunge himself hits upon when stating: "scientific research is, in a nutshell, the honest search for true knowledge about the real world" (italics in original).

In my opinion, that distinction applies not just to formalized research, but to every human's day-in-and-day-out practice of deciding what to believe or not to believe. The plain and salient fact is that all people are "scientists" (i.e., their tendency is to use sound, reasoned principles) when involved in areas where they genuinely want to comprehend what's real. Conversely, all act more like pseudoscientists, myth mongerers, or faith adorers when their simple preference is for make believe.

That is the core, fundamental, and underlying distinction: is it my genuine preference to understand what's real or to enjoy fiction?

I want to make two points in this regard:

1. When and if involved in a conceptual area where the preference is for fiction, humans are masterfully skilled at self-delusion (making us all but immune from correction in such areas). Analyses like Bunge's can provide a kind of meta-screen, by which to externally analyze an area, to see if it's likely that, indeed, preference for fiction is involved.

2. Humans obviously vary in our tendency, or lack of, to prefer fiction. To the extent anyone is consistent in preferring an accurate perception, it is not a mere distinction of personality. There is a hefty quotient of moral difference. Clearly, because of its reckless disregard for the potentially deleterious consequences of others, the preference for fiction is morally reprehensible. Conversely, its opposite is morally pure.

Bringing this matter home, it can hardly be denied that, constitutionally, participants in the skeptical movement and their sympathizers tend strongly toward the preferring accurate-perception end of the scale. (Symptomatic of this, to an all-but-unyielding world, is our all-but-continual plea: "Don't you want to see things as they really are?") Most important, ours is the morally superior stance.

I think many who take this stance have recognized its moral superiority but have been shy about broadcasting the fact for fear of appearing immodest or because it's perceived as bad PR. But myth mongerers have been falsely proclaiming their own supposed moral superiority for centuries (and with apparent success on the PR front). If you ask me, it's time they were confronted on this core issue-time they were told, repeatedly and emphatically: they have it precisely backwards.

In short, let us not fear to tell the world that ours is the morally correct stance--the stance all should follow.

Glade Ross

Shelton, Washington

Mario Bunge's article justified for me the cost of my subscription. I have read most of the books explaining, for the nonscience community, string theory, M theory, and superstring theory, and I've watched the Science Channel's coverage of how ten dimensions finally became eleven dimensions to fit the mathematical equation that faltered with merely ten.

I have no formal education in science but a great curiosity about the universe. I am familiar with Richard Feynman's writings and the works popularizing Einstein's special and general theories of relativity. I have a vague understanding of how mathematical equations work. Until I read Bunge's article, I thought it was merely my lack of education in mathematics that fed my deep-seated "feeling" that postulating a solution to a problem could be based on merely making an equation come up with the answer you wanted. That seemed a bit religious. All you had to do was add "god" to the equation and you had your answer. Bunge quieted my uneasiness. Even the great theoretical physicists can become so enamored of their tools that they can end up with an illogical answer. If there are more than four dimensions, a better tool will be needed than one whose only requirement is that it be mathematically elegant.

Ray L. Walker

Franklin, Tennessee

Reading Mario Bunge's "The Philosophy behind Pseudoscience," I felt like a Viking following the towering Ragnar the Red into battle. Charging headlong into the opposing forces, our champion slashes in all directions with his great two-handed sword, bellowing imprecations as he lays waste to all who stand before him. We are inspired. It isn't until later, when the dust has settled and we lesser warriors are sorting through the carnage, that we realize that a goodly portion of the body parts we're encountering in Ragnar's wake belong to our fellow Vikings. In his berserk rage, Ragnar has indiscriminately struck down everything in his path, friend and foe alike.

Examples:

Ragnar, I mean Bunge, denigrates computationist psychology by saying "computationists beg the question whether certain mental processes are computations ... they just assert this thesis." He then goes on to just assert the contrary: there can be no algorithms for acting spontaneously, asking original problems, etc. As Arthur C. Clarke put it in Clarke's First Law: "When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong."