In my physics lab course, I learned how to determine the atomic structure of crystals by means of x-ray diffraction and how to identify subatomic particles by analyzing bubble-chamber photographs. In my philosophy of science course, on the other hand, I was taught by a world-renowned professor (Paul Feyerabend) that there is no such thing as scientific method and that physicists have no better claim to knowledge than voodoo priests. I knew little about epistemology [the philosophy of knowledge] at the time, but I could not help noticing that it was the physicists, not the voodoo priests, who had made possible the life-promoting technology we enjoy today.
Harriman noticed the enormous gulf between science as it is successfully
practiced and science as is it described by post-Kantian philosophers such as Feyerabend,
who are totally unable to explain the spectacular achievements of modern
science.
Harriman's book Logical Leap: Induction in Physics
attempts to bridge this gap between philosophy
and science by providing a philosophical explanation of how scientists actually
discover things. A physicist and physics teacher by trade, he worked with
philosopher Leonard Peikoff to understand the process
of induction in physics, and this book is a result of their collaboration.
Induction is one of the two types of logical argument; the
other type is deduction. First described by Aristotle, deduction covers
arguments like the following: (1) All men are mortal. (2)
Socrates is a man. (3) Therefore, Socrates is mortal. Deductive arguments start
with generalizations ("All men are mortal.") and apply them to specific
instances ("Socrates"). Deductive logic is well understood, but it relies on
the truth of the generalizations in order to yield true conclusions.
So how do we make the correct generalizations? This is the
subject of the other branch of logicinductionand it is obviously
much more difficult than deduction. How can we ever be justified in reasoning
from a limited number of observations to a sweeping statement that refers to an
unlimited number of objects? In answering this question Harriman presents an
original theory of induction, and he shows how it is supported by key
developments in the history of physics.
The first chapter presents the philosophical foundations of
the theory, which builds directly on the theory of concepts developed by
Ayn Rand. Unfortunately for the general reader, Harriman
assumes familiarity with Rand's theory of knowledge, including her views of concepts
as open-ended, knowledge as hierarchical, certainty as contextual, perceptions
as self-evident, and arbitrary ideas as invalid. Those unfamiliar with these
ideas may find this section to be confusing. But the good news is that those
readers can then proceed to the following chapters, which flesh out the theory
and show how it applies to key developments in the history of physics (and the
related fields of astronomy and chemistry).
These chapters do a wonderful job at bringing together the
physics and the philosophy, clarifying both in the process.
Harriman argues that as concepts form a hierarchy, generalizations
form a hierarchy as well; more abstract generalizations rest on simpler, more
direct ones, relying ultimately on a rock-solid base of "first-level"
generalizations which are directly, perceptually obvious, such as the toddler's
grasp of the fact that "pushed balls roll." First-level
generalizations are formed from our direct experiences, in which the open-ended nature of
concepts leads to generalizations. Higher-level
generalizations are formed based on lower-level ones, using Mill's Methods of
Agreement and Difference to identify causal connections,
while taking into account the entirety of one's context of knowledge.
Ayn Rand held that because of the
hierarchical nature of our knowledge, it is possible to take any valid idea (no
matter how advanced), and identify its hierarchical roots, i.e. the more
primitive, lower-level ideas on which it rests, tracing these ideas all the way
back to directly observable phenomena. Rand used the word "reduction" to refer
to this process. In a particularly interesting discussion, Harriman shows how the
process of reduction can be applied to the idea that "light travels in straight
lines," identifying such earlier ideas as the concept "shadow" and finally the
first-level generalization "walls resist hammering hands."
Harriman's discussion of the experimental method starts with
a description of Galileo's experiments with pendulums. Galileo initially
noticed that the period of a pendulum's swing seems to be the same for
different swing amplitudes, so he decided to accurately measure this time
period to see if it is really true. Concluding that the period is indeed
constant, he then did further experiments. He selectively varied the weight and
material of the pendulum's bob, and the length of the pendulum. This led him to
the discovery that a pendulum's length is proportional to the square of its
period. Harriman notes the experiments that Galileo did
not perform:
He saw no need to vary every known property of the pendulum and look for a possible effect on the period. For example, he did not systematically vary the color, temperature, or smell of the pendulum bob; he did not investigate whether it made a difference if the pendulum arm is made of cotton twine or silk thread. Based on everyday observation, he had a vast prescientific context of knowledge that was sufficient to eliminate such factors as irrelevant. To call such knowledge "prescientific" is not to cast doubt on its objectivity; such lower-level generalizations are acquired by the implicit use of the same methods that the scientist uses deliberately and systematically, and they are equally valid.
One powerful tool for avoiding nonproductive speculations in
science is Ayn Rand's concept of the arbitrary, and
Harriman brilliantly clarifies this idea in the section on Newton's optical
experiments. An arbitrary idea is one for which there is no evidence; it is an
idea put forth based solely on whim or faith. Rand held that an arbitrary idea
cannot be valid even as a possibility; in order to say "it is possible," one
needs to have evidence (which can consist of either direct
observations or reasoning based on observations).
Newton began his research on colors with a wide range of
observations, which led him to his famous and brilliant experiments with prisms.
Harriman presents the chain of reasoning and experimentation which
led Newton to conclude that white light consists of a mixture of all of
the colors, which are separated by refraction.
Isaac Newton said that he "framed no hypotheses," and here he
was referring to his rejection of the arbitrary. When Descartes claimedwithout
any evidencethat light consists of rotating particles with the speed of rotation
determining the color; and when Robert Hooke claimedwithout any
evidencethat white light consists of a symmetrical wave pulse, which
results in colors when the wave becomes distorted; these ideas were totally
arbitrary, and they deserved to be thrown out without further consideration: "Newton
understood that to accept an arbitrary ideaeven as a mere possibility
that merits considerationundercuts all of one's knowledge. It is
impossible to establish any truth if one regards as valid the procedure of
manufacturing contrary 'possibilities' out of thin air." This rejection of the
arbitrary may be expressed in a positive form: Scientists should be focused on
reality, and only on reality.
After discussing the rise of experimentation in physics, Harriman
turns to the Copernican revolution, the astronomical discoveries of Galileo and
Kepler, and the grand synthesis of Newton's laws of
motion and of universal gravitation. But this reviewer found the most
historically interesting chapter to be the one about the atomic theory of
matter; this chapter is a cautionary tale about the lack of objective standards
for evaluating theories. This story then leads to Harriman proposing a set of
specific criteria of proof for scientific theories.
The final, concluding chapter addresses several broader
issues, including why mathematics is fundamental to the science of physics, how
the science of philosophy is different than physics, and finally, how modern
physics has gone down the wrong path due to the lack of a proper theory of
induction.
So, with the publication of
Logical Leap, has the age-old "problem of induction" now been
solved? On this issue, the reader must judge for himself. What is clear to this
reviewer is that Harriman has presented an insightful, thought-provoking and
powerful new theory about how scientists discover the laws of nature.
Check out David Harriman's website.
"Ninety percent of baseball is half mental." -- Yogi Berra