THE CASE AGAINST SCIENCE

WHEN I was a young student in Germany, science and all the other branches of human knowledge were
held in highest esteem. Their value was too generally acknowledged, it seemed too self-evident to
require the support of any particular argument; and there were practically no people who would have
dared to discuss it critically. It belonged to the noblest tasks of society and of the governments to
support all forms of research. Even children were given as much knowledge and as much training in
intellectual operations as seemed compatible with their capacities; because a state of ample
information was so obviously desirable.

In this respect as in others the atmosphere has now changed tremendously, not only in Germany, but
also in other European countries. Immediately after the war, it is true, the young people would crowd
the lecture-rooms of our universities, more eager to learn than they had ever been before. It is not
known whether they became disappointed by what they heard there. But soon one could hardly fail to
observe that both the professors and their work no longer enjoyed the customary appreciation.
Gradually signs of a critical attitude became visible in several quarters, and what might have been a
temporary lack of interest proved to be a growing doubt as to whether all learning whatsoever deserved
unconditional reverence. A number of years ago a popular German magazine went so far as to ask
several outstanding men of science about their opinion concerning die Krise der Wissenschaft, the crisis
of science. And, since the term "Wissenschatt" has a more general meaning in German than "science"
has in English, the inquiry of the magazine did not mainly refer to particular difficulties which had arisen
in physics; rather the experts were expected to give their views about the value of learning in general,
confidence in which appeared to be severely shaken. Of the answers which those eminent men
published in the magazine, I do not remember much more than that they were quite different from each
other; a few professors seemed to be almost as sceptical as was public opinion; not a single answer was,
I believe, a fully convincing, frank confession of faith with striking arguments to support it. This, of
course, must be due to the fact that the experts had been taken unawares. Perhaps it was not
altogether fair to ask them suddenly such general questions. On the other hand: Why had the magazine
inquired? It seemed to presuppose that the average reader regarded die Krise der Wissenschaft as
something obvious. Since I happened to know one of the editors I asked him whether he also had lost
confidence in the power of learning, and, if so, for what reasons he had become sceptical. Although my
friend has had a university education, he is far from being a professor. If I give a condensed account of
his statements here, I do it with hesitation. For my academic habits, his interest in what he called
essential problems was far too impetuous, and a reader with academic standards will doubtless agree
with me that to put questions of principle so crudely in the foreground is not a sign of very good taste.
Even so, a strange form of European uneasiness, as I observed it in 1930 or 1931, is strikingly expressed
in his curious complaints.

"Yes," he began, "there is indeed a widespread feeling that something is wrong with academic learning.
And it is probably not the worst people outside the universities who during recent years have adopted a
critical attitude. In a way their dissatisfaction is connected with the unusual sequence of troubles which
one after another have disturbed Europe since 1914: the war, circumstances connected with
peacemaking, inflation, economic and social unrest, tremendous difficulties in government. Just now, as
people are beginning to be more hopeful, there has come the world-wide business crisis and appalling
unemployment. Is it surprising that they are growing restless? We meant well, they say; we tried to
remain confident; if what we had achieved broke down we built it up again. But why is it all so useless?
Why ever more tiouble? What is behind it? They go to the professors of social science and to the
historians. They ask these men about the dynamics and the deeper meaning of historical developments.
They want to know whether such events as this chain of misfortunes are brought about by anonymous
historical forces, or whether they can be traced to definite mistakes of responsible agents.

"What, do you think, do the professors answer? After some deliberation there are always the same
remarks about the necessity of distinguishing between questions of solid fact with which the authorities
are actually occupied and problems of value, of meaning and of moral or metaphysical interpretation,
with which a sober discipline refuses to deal. One professor said: 'O, politics!' he smiled in a tired fashion
'it is certainly a muddle. You cannot imagine how consoling it is to fall back on pure research.

The second edition of my "Dutch Immigration Into Prussia During the Eighteenth Century" is just about
to appear. I have unearthed entirely unknown . . .' But his interviewer left him, quite unconsoled, his
heart* even heavier than before. As a matter of fact I know of no such interview that ever had a
satisfactory end. All the professors have their little farms which they are highly skilled in cultivating.
What grows there fills their minds completely. But every one of them has been careful to erect a fence
against that vast, uncharted country beyond his farm in which we others try to find our way and cannot.
I have an uneasy feeling. What will happen if all this special research is taken so seriously by those who
do it, while the essential questions of mankind seem almost to be regarded as obnoxious? Professors
fairly wince when they hear such questions mentioned; at the first opportunity they retire each to his
study, his Dutch immigration and his 18th century. They had better be careful, however. It is not merely
little farms, it is the geography and the law of the open land which the people want to hear explained. If
the professors do not care, mark my word, other teachers will emerge and will be followed, whatever
you may think of their explanations and of their law.

"I mentioned a few typical questions by which the people are greatly disturbed. There are others which
they ask with the same eagerness, but which the professors never answer. 'Any research/ I heard a great
teacher say, 'is valuable in itself. One cannot criticize it merely on the ground that it has no
consequences in a wider philosophical field.’

"I doubt whether there is such an intrinsic value in any learning whatsoever. However that may be, I do
not see why the term 'philosophical' should be used in this connection. It is not speculation about
remote questions, it is our understanding of certain empirical matters to which the professors fail to
contribute. Or is the nature of historical developments a metaphysical problem while that of physical or
biological developments is a problem of science? When erecting fences around your particular farms
you do not only exclude metaphysics, but also a good deal of human experience, unfortunately that part
of human experience insight into which is most urgently needed. And yet you shrug your shoulders. This,
you say, is not your business. You do not feel responsible for what happens outside your fences. I
wonder whether you are at all interested in our predicament.
"I must repeat, however, that there is more than mere indifference in your attitude toward our
problems. Why this strange impatience in the faces of professors when we ask our questions about man,
society and history? Not a few professors will tell us in so many words that they do not wish to be
molested by questions on such topics, and some are frank enough to admit that they dislike these topics
themselves. We laymen do not understand this attitude. We fail to see any reason why learned men
should assume an attitude of disdain with regard to certain subject-matters. Was the world created to
fit a set of given scientific methods? You seem to presuppose just this when you look down upon some
phases of creation, because their appearance is not that of neat scientific material."