A useful pointer in Zen is to ask, “What do we add to this world with our observation of it?”
I’m not referring to a value judgement of your observation. Although the work life of a scientist is governed by such assessments from colleagues, that particular dynamic only matters in the World of People (i.e., our interactive thoughts about the world).
We are talking instead about something much more basic. The question above points out that what we consider to be reality is actually our ideas layered on top of what is already there. In other words, our understanding of reality is a fusion of two things: the world as it is, plus our human interpretation of it.
To me, the consideration of how reality is––how it exists independent of our hampered impressions of it––should be the default perspective of a practicing scientist. That view makes us aware of what the human mind brings to the interpretation of any scientific result.
The aim of science is to use the Scientific Method to help determine, through observations consistent with what our brains can assimilate, the nature of this reality surrounding us. (Note that to a Zen practitioner reality is not ‘surrounding us’, it is us.)
Experiments, then, rely on observations followed by interpretations using human minds. Because both steps require us to add ideas to reality as it is, it would be wise to stay aware of our limitations as human beings in the scientific process.
For example, we should remember that all observations are relative. The way we observe the universe seems perfectly normal to us with our taste, touch, sight, smell, sound, and thought. But many living beings do not share with us these same senses, at least not in the same proportion or ranges as we do. What does the universe look like to them?
What does the world seem like to an earthworm, which lacks our eyes? To a malarial merozoite, which lacks our mouth and nose? To a bee, who can readily see ultra-violet wavelengths of energy that our human eyes cannot discern? Would we all come to the same conclusions about the nature of This, the here and now, given such varied means of perceiving the world?
Here’s a fun diversion: imagine you are running an experiment as the world’s first sentient microbe. You would be a single cell. Your knowledge of reality would be heavily dominated by the chemical interactions along your body’s surface with its environment. There would be no vision, no sound as we hear it, no taste as we know it. How would the world ‘look’ to you? How would you interpret the nature of the universe given the result of your experiment?
Decidedly, humans interpret the world in a much different way than would a sentient microbe. But because we are human, we also tend to think that our personal interpretation of the world is the correct one. We readily forget that interpretations are also relative, so we fall easily into the trap of thinking that how we see things must be how they are.
Consider the recent 'schwup' sound on LIGO’s instruments that we choose to interpret as ‘ripples’ in the fabric of space-time. When viewed in this way, the finding helps us explain the nature of gravity, a concept that has been harder to nail down in detail than the well-documented force of evolution by natural selection.
What if the 'schwup' was the product of something different? What if it represented something humans have not even thought of yet, or its occurrence where we expected to find it is simply a coincidence? What if its real source exists outside the framework of our current human knowledge? What if, like the tip of an iceberg, it represents something much deeper, something that human senses are currently unable to detect or understand?
As a scientist, I find it exciting that the 'schwup' fits a human expectation of the universe and how it works. We humans may even be right about that. But I've also learned to maintain a level of perspective about our human limitations, about the realm of our senses and how they dictate what we think we know about the universe.
My point with these comments is not to dissuade scientists from the pursuit of understanding the universe with theory and experimentation. Given the limits of human capability, the scientific method is our best tool yet for manipulating the formations of absolute reality in a way that tells us something useful about the nature of the universe.
Instead, my intention is to remind the thoughtful scientist that we should never be so foolish as to get trapped by the belief that our own description of the universe, and not the universe itself, is truth.
That means we should leave alternative ideas upon the table and open our minds to possibilities that might not be apparent from our body of knowledge. Remember, science is evidence-based, which means there is no danger in leaving a highly improbable solution to a puzzle as an alternative–albeit currently implausible–explanation.
But this warning remains: if you find yourself arguing that something is absolutely not possible, then you are taking a long walk off a very short pier.
