Science under Siege: Contesting the Secular Religion of Scientism (Cultural Sociology) 3030696480, 9783030696481

Citation preview

CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY

Science under Siege Contesting the Secular Religion of Scientism Edited by Dick Houtman Stef Aupers Rudi Laermans

Cultural Sociology

Series Editors Jeffrey C. Alexander, Center for Cultural Sociology, Yale University, New Haven, CT, USA Ron Eyerman, Center for Cultural Sociology, Yale University, New Haven, CT, USA David Inglis, Department of Sociology, University of Helsinki, Helsinki, Finland Philip Smith, Center for Cultural Sociology, Yale University, New Haven, CT, USA

Cultural sociology is widely acknowledged as one of the most vibrant areas of inquiry in the social sciences across the world today. The Palgrave Macmillan Series in Cultural Sociology is dedicated to the proposition that deep meanings make a profound difference in social life. Culture is not simply the glue that holds society together, a crutch for the weak, or a mystifying ideology that conceals power. Nor is it just practical knowledge, dry schemas, or know how. The series demonstrates how shared and circulating patterns of meaning actively and inescapably penetrate the social. Through codes and myths, narratives and icons, rituals and representations, these culture structures drive human action, inspire social movements, direct and build institutions, and so come to shape history. The series takes its lead from the cultural turn in the humanities, but insists on rigorous social science methods and aims at empirical explanations. Contributions engage in thick interpretations but also account for behavioral outcomes. They develop cultural theory but also deploy middle-range tools to challenge reductionist understandings of how the world actually works. In so doing, the books in this series embody the spirit of cultural sociology as an intellectual enterprise.

More information about this series at http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/14945

Dick Houtman · Stef Aupers · Rudi Laermans Editors

Science under Siege Contesting the Secular Religion of Scientism

Editors Dick Houtman Center for Sociological Research University of Leuven Leuven, Belgium

Stef Aupers Institute for Media Studies University of Leuven Leuven, Belgium

Rudi Laermans Center for Sociological Research University of Leuven Leuven, Belgium

Cultural Sociology ISBN 978-3-030-69648-1 ISBN 978-3-030-69649-8 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Cover illustration: Baac3nes, Getty Images This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

Preface

This book has its origins in two research groups, one at Erasmus University Rotterdam, The Netherlands, the other at KU Leuven, Belgium. Until they left for Leuven in 2013 and 2014, respectively, the book’s first two editors (Dick Houtman and Stef Aupers) were based in Rotterdam, where they collaborated with Peter Achterberg, Willem de Koster, and Jeroen van der Waal. In 2014 Peter also left Rotterdam, in his case for Tilburg University, the Netherlands, which left only Willem and Jeroen in Rotterdam, where they have been based until the present day. Upon their arrival in Leuven Dick and Stef started collaborating with Rudi Laermans, this book’s third editor. All contributors other than Peter, Willem and Jeroen are (or were until recently) either Ph.D. students or Postdocs at KU Leuven. All of us share interest and expertise in cultural sociology, with substantive research interests ranging from politics to art and from media to religion. With the exception of Massimiliano Simons, who is as much a philosopher of science as a cultural sociologist, none of us boasts a specialized research interest in science. Yet, our variegated cultural-sociological research interests confronted all of us with issues pertaining to the authority of science, which sparked the initiative for this joint book. Two previously published articles in Public Understanding of Science provided its starting point, one by Jaron Harambam and Stef Aupers and the other by Peter Achterberg, Willem de Koster, and Jeroen van der Waal. The Leuven group then embarked on an extensive series of discussions about v

vi

PREFACE

the authority of science, more specifically about seven additional chapters in progress. Chapters 8 and 9 of this book are as such based on the two abovementioned previously published articles that have both been adapted to better fit the logic and argument of the book: • Harambam, Jaron, and Stef Aupers. 2015. “Contesting Epistemic Authority: Conspiracy Theories on the Boundaries of Science.” Public Understanding of Science 24 (4): 466–80. • Achterberg, Peter, Willem de Koster, and Jeroen van der Waal. 2017. “A Science Confidence Gap: Education, Trust in Scientific Methods, and Trust in Scientific Institutions in the United States, 2014.” Public Understanding of Science 26 (6): 704–20. We gratefully acknowledge permission to reprint revised versions of these articles. We also want to thank Palgrave Macmillan’s Mary alSayed, Madison Allums, Elizabeth Graber, Liam McLean, Dilli Babu Perumal, and Sham Anand for their helpfulness and kind cooperation at various stages of the process, and we gratefully acknowledge the valuable comments and suggestions by two anonymous reviewers. We are convinced that the latter have added much to the quality of the final manuscript. Finally, we thank Jeff Alexander and Phil Smith for their support, encouragement, and interest in the project. Leuven, Belgium December 2020

Dick Houtman Stef Aupers Rudi Laermans

Contents

1

Introduction: A Cultural Sociology of the Authority of Science Dick Houtman, Stef Aupers, and Rudi Laermans

Part I 2

3

4

1

Scientific Authority in the Face of Pluralism

The Disenchantment of the World and the Authority of Sociology: How the Queen of the Sciences Lost Her Throne Dick Houtman

37

Down the Rabbit Hole: Heterodox Science on the Internet Stef Aupers and Lars de Wildt

65

The Pluralization of Academia: Disentangling Artistic Research Rudi Laermans

89

Part II Cultural Worldviews and the Authority of Scientific Truth Claims 5

Elective Affinities Between Religion and Neuroscience: The Cases of Conservative Protestantism and Mindfulness Spirituality Liza Cortois and Anneke Pons-de Wit

115

vii

viii

6

CONTENTS

Cultural Worldviews and Lay Interpretations of Research Findings: The Role of the Scientific Consensus Paul Tromp and Peter Achterberg

Part III 7

8

9

133

Contesting the Authority of Scientific Institutions

‘Science Without Scientists’: DIY Biology and the Renegotiation of the Life Sciences Massimiliano Simons

155

Contesting Epistemic Authority: Conspiracy Theories on the Boundaries of Science Jaron Harambam and Stef Aupers

179

A Science Confidence Gap: Education, Trust in Scientific Methods, and Trust in Scientific Institutions in the United States, 2014 Peter Achterberg, Willem de Koster, and Jeroen van der Waal

203

Index

231

Notes on Contributors

Peter Achterberg is Professor of Sociology at Tilburg University, The Netherlands. His research focuses on cultural, religious, and political change in the West. More information about Peter can be obtained through his personal website www.peterachterberg.nl. Stef Aupers is Professor of Media Culture at the Institute for Media Studies, University of Leuven, Belgium. As a cultural sociologist, he studies the mediatization of social life and contemporary culture. Stef has published widely in international peer-reviewed journals on game culture, digital religion, and conspiracy theories on the Internet. Liza Cortois is a postdoctoral researcher at Hasselt University, Belgium. She obtained her PhD at the University of Leuven, Belgium, in 2019 with a dissertation titled Becoming an Individual: A Cultural-Sociological Study of Socialization in Individualistic Scripts, funded by Research Foundation—Flanders (FWO). She is interested in socialization processes in individualist cultures and published previously in the Journal of Contemporary Religion (2018) about mindfulness spirituality. Jaron Harambam is an interdisciplinary sociologist working on conspiracy theories, (social) media, and AI (content moderation, search/recommender systems). He holds a Marie Sklodowska-Curie Individual Fellowship at Leuven University’s Institute for Media Studies in Belgium, is editor-in-chief of the Dutch-Flemish peer-reviewed journal Tijdschrift Sociologie, and his monograph Contemporary Conspiracy ix

x

NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS

Culture: Truth and Knowledge in an Era of Epistemic Instability is out with Routledge. Dick Houtman is Professor of Sociology of Culture and Religion at the University of Leuven, Belgium. He studies cultural conflict and cultural change in the West since the 1960s. Most of his publications address either the spiritual turn in religion or the rise of a political culture that foregrounds cultural issues and identity. His next book is provisionally titled The Hunt for Real Reality: The West on the Wings of Imagination (personal website: www.dickhoutman.nl). Willem de Koster is Professor of General Sociology at Erasmus University Rotterdam, the Netherlands. He studies how social groups give meaning to social issues, how this informs their actions, and how it shapes their responses to new information and the (urban) environment they live in. For more information, see www.willemdekoster.nl. Rudi Laermans is Professor of Sociological Theory at the Faculty of Social Sciences of the University of Leuven, Belgium. His research and publications are situated within the realms of social theory and the sociology of the arts. Recent book publications: Moving Together: Theorizing and Making Contemporary Dance (2015) and, in Dutch, Weber (2017; together with Dick Houtman). Anneke Pons-de Wit is a PhD student in cultural sociology at the University of Leuven, Belgium. Her PhD project addresses whether and how religious pluralism changes the identities of atheists, conservative Christians, and those identifying as spiritual. She also participated in research projects about social media, popular religious music cultures, and material culture in the Protestant Dutch Bible Belt, about which she published in journals like Social Compass and Material Religion. Massimiliano Simons is a philosopher focusing on recent shifts within contemporary life sciences such as these toward metagenomics and synthetic biology. In 2019 he defended his PhD in philosophy on synthetic biology at the University of Leuven, Belgium, and he is now a postdoctoral researcher at Ghent University, Belgium, working on the concept of techno-science. Paul Tromp is a PhD candidate at the Center for Sociological Research, University of Leuven, Belgium. His PhD project addresses religious

NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS

xi

decline and religious change in Western Europe (1981–2008). He graduated from the Research Master in Social and Behavioral Sciences at Tilburg University, The Netherlands, and his chapter in this volume results from his Master’s thesis. Jeroen van der Waal is Professor of Sociology of Stratification in the Department of Public Administration and Sociology at Erasmus University Rotterdam, The Netherlands. His research aims to explain why social stratification is linked to health outcomes and political attitudes and behaviors in Western countries. For more information, see his personal website www.jeroenvanderwaal.com. Lars de Wildt is a postdoctoral researcher in Media Studies at the University of Leuven, Belgium. He studies how technologies change the way people produce and consume culture, including how online platforms have changed conspiracy theory in a post-truth age, and how videogames have changed religion in a post-secular age. For more, see www.larsdewil dt.eu.

List of Figures

Chapter 6 Fig. 1 Fig. 2

Interaction effect between reconciliation and hierarchical individualism—egalitarian communitarianism Interaction effect between controversy and hierarchical individualism—egalitarian communitarianism

145 146

Chapter 9 Fig. 1

Hypothesized relationships (gray arrows depict the reflexive-modernization explanation, black arrows depict the anomie explanation)

211

xiii

List of Tables

Chapter 6 Table 1 Table 2

Table 3 Table 4

Experimental design with three treatment conditions Factor loadings of twelve items measuring hierarchical individualism versus egalitarian communitarianism (N = 216; principal axis factoring without rotation) Descriptive statistics for the variables in the analysis Multiple linear regression with scientific certainty as dependent variable (N = 216)

139

142 143 144

Chapter 9 Table 1

Table 2 Table 3

Factor analysis on items measuring trust in scientific institutions and trust in scientific methods (principal-component factors, varimax rotation with normalization, pattern matrix, N = 1921) Zero-order correlations between level of education and mediating and dependent variables Explaining the relationship between education and trust in scientific methods, trust in scientific institutions, and a science confidence gap (OLS regression analyses, unstandardized coefficients shown, robust standard errors in parentheses)

216 217

218

xv

xvi

LIST OF TABLES

Table 4

Decomposition of the initial effect of education into direct effect and indirect effects via institutional knowledge, reflexive-modern values, and anomie (KHB-method; unstandardized coefficients shown; robust standard errors in parentheses)

220

CHAPTER 1

Introduction: A Cultural Sociology of the Authority of Science Dick Houtman, Stef Aupers, and Rudi Laermans

An institution under attack must reexamine its foundations, restate its objectives, seek out its rationale (Merton 1973 [1942], 267)

1

Marching for Science

On April 22, 2017, tens of thousands of people, scientists and concerned citizens alike, marched for science in Washington, DC. In the pouring rain, media personality and science popularizer Bill Nye (‘the Science Guy’) addressed the crowd: ‘We are marching today to remind people

D. Houtman (B) Center for Sociological Research, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] S. Aupers Institute for Media Studies, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] R. Laermans Faculty of Social Sciences, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_1

1

2

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

everywhere, our lawmakers especially, of the significance of science for our health and prosperity.’ In the shadow of the National Monument, close to the White House, he warned against political elites ‘deliberately ignoring and actively suppressing science.’ A participant interviewed by CNN pointed out the sea change in just half a century: ‘John F. Kennedy promised this nation that by the end of the sixties we’d land on the moon. Now, almost fifty years later, we have an American president disparaging the facts, denigrating science. And we are here to tell him that science matters.’ Washington’s March for Science coincided with more than 600 satellite marches in a wide range of American and Canadian cities, but also in Australia (e.g., Canberra, Melbourne, Sydney) and all over Europe (e.g., Berlin, Stockholm, London, Brussels, Amsterdam, Budapest, Warsaw, Belgrade, Bucharest). The protests did not remain confined to the West either, as testified by marches in Asia (e.g., Ho Chi Minh City, Taipei, Hong Kong, Hyderabad, Dhaka, Seoul, Quezon), Africa (e.g., Accra, Abuja, Kampala), South America (e.g., Rio de Janeiro, Bogotá, Santiago, Buenos Aires), and even Antarctica. Pointing out the promise of science in overcoming many of the problems that plague humanity, banners and placards called upon politicians to take science more seriously: ‘Got polio? Me neither. Thanks, science!’; ‘Science saves lives’; ‘Science is magic that works’; ‘Science: It works, bitches’; ‘Society should worry when geeks have to demonstrate’; ‘Physics makes the world go round.’ Even granting the occasional placard voicing support for the humanities (‘Humanities: Enlightening the world since the 4th century’), one cannot help but being struck by the preoccupation with natural science, its technological accomplishments, and its further promises. Participants not only marched for science, though. They also did so against president Donald Trump, who no longer prioritized funds for scientific research (‘Make America smart again’; ‘Trust scientific facts, not alternative facts’; ‘You can’t grab science by the pussy!’; ‘Next NASA mission: launch Trump to Uranus’); who relied on weird notions like ‘alternative facts’; and who considered climate change a hoax by the Chinese government (‘Mother nature trumps alternative facts’; ‘Ice has no agenda, it just melts’; ‘We’ve lost our patience: the oceans are rising and so are we’; ‘Climate change is real’; ‘There is no planet B’). Indeed, the profiles of the participants in the March for Science resembled those of the Women’s March and the People’s Climate March, two earlier antiTrump protests in Washington, DC. The March for Science did not

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

3

even mobilize any more scientists than either of these, indicating that it indeed entailed anti-Trump protest as much as pro-science advocacy (Fisher 2018). Yet, the event took place against the backdrop of increased conservative contestations of the authority of science across the period 1974–2014 (Gauchat 2012). The resulting anti-science climate entails a major source of concern and disagreement in academia. Some academics dismiss the politicization of science as producing a ‘never-ending pseudo-scientific debate’ (Brulle 2018, 256) or ‘nonsense debate’ (idem, 257), pointing out how ‘politically naïve’ (idem, 257) it is to believe that protests like the March for Science can actually improve the situation. Others oppose those who ‘naïvely advocate value-free science’ (Kinchy 2020, 78) and do instead call upon their colleagues in Science and Technology Studies to do ‘engaged STS scholarship,’ emphasizing how important it is that ‘as STS scholars […] we not just observe these changes, but also oppose them, in our words and actions’ (idem, 76). Yet, data collected briefly before and briefly after the March for Science suggest that the event has not been able to counter the anti-science climate in conservative circles, but has only increased liberal-conservative polarization about the authority of science (Motta 2018). The polarization has not declined since then either, as became particularly clear when the United States was hit hard by the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. Dr. Anthony Fauci, prominent member of the White House Coronavirus Task Force, director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID), and world-leading expert in infectious disease, felt forced to disagree with the American president during White House press briefings about the unfolding crisis. By then Fauci had already advised five consecutive presidents before Trump, starting with Ronald Reagan during the AIDS epidemic, and boasted an immaculate reputation as a publicly trusted medical figure. Yet, all this could not prevent that his disagreement with the president triggered massive protests from politically rightist groups, even amounting to death threats and harassment of himself and his family. Startled Democrats felt forced to rally to Fauci’s defense, exemplifying once again how politically contested the authority of science has meanwhile become. Many academics frame conflicts about the authority of science in the moral terms of good and evil, construing trust in science as good and condemning its counterpart as morally wrong and socially detrimental. This moralizing tendency typically coincides with forcing the matter into

4

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

the political binaries of ‘right’ versus ‘left,’ ‘conservative’ versus ‘liberal,’ or ‘authoritarian’ versus ‘democratic.’ In this book, we seek to neither condemn nor praise the headwind faced by contemporary science. We rather approach the issue from a sober cultural-sociological perspective to dig into the cultural mechanisms that account for the acceptance or denial of the authority of science. We do so not only because selfjustifying political responses do so easily backfire, but even more so because construals of contestations of the authority of science as ‘morally reprehensible,’ ‘rightist,’ or ‘authoritarian’ conceal many an inconvenient fact. For cultural and intellectual history provide abundant evidence that such contestations are not at all necessarily authoritarian and politically rightist. Not only are they deeply embedded in the philosophy of science, but left-libertarian critics have massively contested the authority of science, too, arguing that its mindless acceptance poses a threat to liberty and democracy. In this introductory chapter we trace these arguments in intellectual discourse and cultural history to argue that contestations of the authority of science entail rejections of science as a sort of secular religion. This notion of science as religion—scientism—is fully consistent with Durkheim’s classical sociology of religion (Durkheim 1995 [1912]). For the latter does not define religion conventionally in terms of a nexus between human beings and the supernatural that defines a path to salvation from suffering, but rather as a cultural distinction between what is sacred and what is profane, a distinction that may or may not involve supernatural beings. In Durkheim’s hands the sacred is thus that which is extraordinary in the sense that it is set apart as deserving special respect and veneration, and that is as such surrounded by taboos aimed at protecting it from pollution by the ordinary and the mundane— the profane, i.e., that which does not deserve any special veneration or authority. Indeed, one of the cultural mainstays of modernity is the endowment of science with a sacred status, which degrades religion as conventionally understood to a profane source of pollution against which it needs to be protected (Bloor 1976, 46–54). The competing claims to sacredness resulting from this give rise to the quintessential modern cultural conflict, i.e., the ‘religion/science conflict’ (Sappington 1991), or even ‘warfare of science with theology’ (White 1960). The modern sacralization of science implies that contestations of its authority entail processes of profanation that dismiss its threefold claim to authority, i.e., that (1) it entails a way of understanding the world that

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

5

is superior to alternatives like religion, politics, or art (Part I of the book), that (2) unlike the ‘perceptions’ of laypersons, its claims about the world do ‘neutrally’ and ‘objectively’ represent ‘the world as it really is’ (Part II of the book), and that (3) scientific institutions and scientists deserve authority for the scientific work they do (Part III of the book).

2

Scientism: Science as Secular Religion 2.1

Modern Science and Its Critics

Modern science emerged in the period from the fifteenth through the seventeenth centuries, coinciding with major scientific breakthroughs associated with the work of natural scientists like Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, and Newton (Dijksterhuis 1961; Toulmin 1990, 5–44). It understood scientific truth as resulting from the combination of logical reasoning and systematic empirical observation. This point of view was popularized in the eighteenth century by Enlightenment thinkers like Voltaire, Condorcet, Hume, and Montesquieu. They paved the way for nineteenth-century pioneers of social science like Comte, Marx, Spencer, and Freud, who connected the quest for scientific knowledge about the foundations of human society with reformist political agendas. In that era, the modern scientific worldview was in effect transformed into a major cultural and political force as part of ‘a struggle by new social and cultural elites to undermine aspects of the religious culture that underpinned the institutions of the church, monarchy, and the ruling aristocratic elite’ (Seidman 1994, 10). So it is here that the modern cultural conflict between science and religion originates. Central to eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Enlightenment thought was indeed a systematic critique of religion, tradition, and belief as sources of ignorance and tutelage, with science conceived as their superior successor, promising material and moral progress (Seidman 1994, 20–26). In this Enlightenment understanding, scientific knowledge differs drastically from other types of knowledge and meaning in that it does not stem from the human imagination, but from the careful and systematic study of the world itself. This notion became one of the mainstays of the modern self-image, which embraced science, rationality and technology as superior modes of relating to the world that would increasingly marginalize tradition, religion and belief.

6

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

The March for Science testifies that this modern self-understanding still exists today, even though science has become increasingly contested. This is of course not to suggest that it has ever been completely uncontested. For since the heydays of the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century, it has always been viewed with suspicion, not least from within religious circles, as Enlightenment critiques of religion would lead one to expect. From the eighteenth century onwards, Romanticist critiques of science have been equally significant and appear even more important nowadays than religious ones, if only because the authority of religion is no longer what it used to be, especially so in Western Europe. European Romantics like Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778), Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834), and William Wordsworth (1770– 1850) have since the end of the eighteenth century defended the significance of the human imagination in tandem with feelings, experiences and emotions against the imperatives of science and reason. At the other side of the Atlantic, American Transcendentalists like Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) and Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862) similarly foregrounded the significance of subjectivity, intuition, and imagination. European Romanticism and American Transcendentalism do as such understand truth as neither rooted in divine revelation, which would make it a matter of religious belief, nor as resulting from logical reasoning and empirical observation, which would make it a matter of scientific reason. Both contrasting options are dismissed in favor of imagination and experience. 2.2

Contesting the Authority of Science

In such a climate of clashes between Romanticism and the scientific worldview, Max Weber crafted his Wissenschaftslehre at the beginning of the twentieth century in Germany. It understands the scientific quest for truth as just one particular way of relating to the world, the superiority of which over religion, politics, morality, or aesthetics cannot be justified on strictly intellectual grounds. Weber rather observes that ‘the belief in the value of scientific truth is the product of certain cultures and is not a product of man’s original nature’ (Weber 2014 [1904], 137), so that ‘scientific truth’ is not universally valid and binding to everyone, but entails just ‘that which claims validity for all who seek truth’ (idem, 121; emphasis in original, DH/SA/RL).

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

7

Invoking his well-known distinction between ‘how the world is’ and ‘how it should be,’ Weber limits the authority of science to claims about the former, so that it cannot answer questions of meaning and purpose. Science cannot tell what is good from what is bad and cannot tell what courses of action ought to be pursued or rather abstained from. Answers to moral questions like these can only be answered on the basis of the moral worldviews that lie at the heart of religion and politics. Rather than asserting the superiority of science over religion and politics, then, Weber aims to ‘adjudicate the tensions between two vital Western traditions: between reason and faith, between knowledge and feeling, between classicism and romanticism, between the head and the heart’ (Gouldner 1962, 212–213), ‘attempting to guard the autonomy of both spheres’ (idem, 211). Acknowledging their incompatibility, but refusing to order them in terms of superiority and inferiority, Weber thus robs science of its status of be-all and end-all, dismissing scientistic understandings of science. The Weberian account of science is as such not so much critical about religion and its cultural significance, but rather about the endowment of science with an authority that makes it superior to it, as in Comteanstyle positivism. Indeed, as Alvin Gouldner has observed (idem, 211; see also 1973), ‘(Weber’s) main campaign here is waged against science and reason and is aimed at confining their influence. To Weber, even reason must submit when conscience declares, Here I stand; I can do no other.’ In tandem with this modesty about the authority of science Weber addresses the role of culture and values in the conduct of scientific research. His principal point is not that values can and should be banned from science, but indeed precisely the opposite. For scientific research aims to address ‘issues that matter’ and ‘what matters’ is inevitably informed by values and is as such a normative moral issue. The implication is that in this Weberian understanding scientific research cannot and should not collect ‘the’ facts. It cannot do so, because ‘the’ facts do not exist: due to the endless complexity of reality ‘the’ facts always and inevitably entail an intellectually arbitrary yet culturally meaningful selection from a much wider set of potential facts. It should not do so, because ‘Any knowledge of infinite reality acquired by the finite human mind is […] based on the tacit assumption that, in any given instance, only a finite part of [that reality] should be the object of scientific comprehension – should be “important” (in the sense of “worth knowing about”)’ (Weber 2014 [1904], 114). This is what Weber calls the ‘value relatedness’ (Wertbeziehung ) of scientific research.

8

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

In Weber’s hands the conduct of scientific research thus comes to resemble value-informed social action by non-scientists, even though after having normatively defined what is ‘worth knowing’ methodological craftsmanship and conformity to standards of intellectual integrity take over. Yet, this guiding role of values in directing empirical research does inevitably make research findings partial and one-sided. Even though the researcher herself surely finds the registered facts ‘meaningful’ and ‘relevant,’ they are logically speaking only so for those who share her value priorities. For all others they are less culturally significant than a series of potential alternative facts that the researcher has decided to bypass. The implication is that accusations of research being ‘onesided’ are intellectually meaningless, because it always and necessarily is: ‘The belief that scientific work, as it progresses, should assume the task of overcoming […] “one-sidedness” […] is flawed’ (Weber 2014 [1904], 111). Critical reproaches invoking the ‘one-sidedness’ of a scientific study do as such merely assert a critic’s own value priorities (‘What about power/inequality/race/class/gender/culture?’). These are normative issues of moral or political taste that can be neither dismissed nor justified on strictly intellectual grounds. A simple example demonstrates how neither normative standpoints nor policy preferences can be defended by invoking ‘the’ facts. It is for instance not too difficult to demonstrate in a methodologically sound fashion that condom use protects against HIV/AIDS, but it is quite another to invoke this ‘fact’ to defend the claim that condom use needs to be encouraged and unprotected sex discouraged. For the study’s valueinformed definition of sex as a health risk is clearly one-sided. An equally one-sided study that instead construes sex as a source of pleasure will arguably produce a different ‘fact,’ i.e., that both men and women prefer sex without condoms. While the former study thus makes reasons to abstain from condom use invisible, the latter does the same with reasons to protect oneself. Clearly, then, none of these studies can inform ‘policy implications’ on strictly logical and empirical grounds.1 The most upfront public issue since early 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic, provides another example. For closures of retail stores, bars, and restaurants to limit social contact cannot simply be justified by epidemiological studies that demonstrate that such measures do effectively help contain the pandemic. For it is of course not far-fetched to believe that economic research can just as easily come up with evidence about the detrimental economic effects of such measures, like increasing numbers

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

9

of bankruptcies and cases of unemployment. Neither is it hard to imagine that sociologists could come up with research that shows such epidemiologically informed measures to negatively affect the quality of social life, e.g., by impeding contact opportunities between family members, friends, and co-workers. So here we have three types of studies that foreground three different sets of scientifically informed facts; three types of facts that suggest very different policy implications; and three sets of policy implications that—to put it in the terms of policy analysis—each create their own ‘side effects,’ the latter all the more ‘undesirable’ if the one-sided problem definition that invokes them is dismissed. The question is not whether one of these sets of findings is any more ‘true’ than the others, because obviously none of them is. The question is rather which of them is most relevant, i.e., how health issues, economic issues, and social issues need to be prioritized, which is a moral and political problem that science cannot solve. In Weber’s understanding, in short, it is inevitable that data are collected and facts arrived at on the basis of intellectually arbitrary values that define the ‘real’ problem, so that ‘the facts’ do not speak for themselves and do not have logically compelling implications for policies either. So while science can surely produce facts, these facts can only inform policies after the conditions they refer to have been interpreted as either ‘good’ or ‘bad’; a ‘pleasure’ or a ‘nuisance’; a ‘healthy’ condition or an ‘unhealthy’ one; a ‘social problem’ to be wiped out or a ‘blessing’ to be cherished. Empirically established facts have no ‘intrinsic’ meaning, because there is no such thing as a strictly ‘neutral,’ ‘scientific,’ or ‘logical’ path from such facts to their moral evaluation, let alone to policy measures. Critics of scientism have time and again invoked similar arguments since Weber’s days, albeit more often than not without observing the marked continuity with the Weberian account of science. That science is not a ‘mirror of nature’ (Rorty 1979) is meanwhile a mainstay in philosophy of science, while the idea of ‘pure’ and ‘autonomous’ science, driven by nothing but a disinterested passion for Truth has been deconstructed by pointing out how racial and gender stereotypes impact scientific research. Donna Haraway (1989) has for instance argued that studies of primates’ reproductive and sexual behavior had traditionally unreflectively reproduced gender stereotypes about aggressive males and receptive females, a tendency that only came to be questioned after the discipline had opened up to increasing numbers of female primatologists. Haraway’s

10

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

(1988) more general argument is that scientific research inevitably generates ‘situated knowledge,’ marked by a ‘partial perspective’ that precludes the God’s eye point of view assumed by absolute notions of Objectivity and Truth. In making this argument Haraway has re-situated Sandra Harding’s ‘standpoint theory,’ which has meanwhile sprawled a diversity of standpoints on standpoint theory itself (Harding 2004). Science, this postmodern feminist scholarship points out much like Weber did long before, does not simply represent the world as it ‘really’ is, i.e., in a strictly ‘neutral,’ ‘objective,’ and culturally unmediated fashion. 2.3

The Counter Culture of the 1960s and the Postmodern Turn

This notion that science cannot represent the world in a strictly ‘neutral,’ ‘objective,’ and culturally unmediated fashion was one of the mainstays of the so-called ‘counter culture’ of the 1960s and 1970s. The latter critiqued not only religion and tradition for standing in the way of personal liberty and dreams of a better world, but reason and science, too. Budding young academics and students with middle-class backgrounds and leftist-liberal political profiles back then accused science of being basically conservative politics in disguise. They critiqued science as the handmaiden of ‘technocracy’ or ‘the system,’ both understood as forcing people into slave-like existences as futile cogs in the rationalized modern machine (see Marwick 1998; Roszak 1969; Musgrove 1974; Zijderveld 1970). The young critics found much of their intellectual ammunition in the works of the philosophers and sociologists of the Frankfurt School. Adding sizable doses of Weber and Freud to Marxism, and no longer seeing the cultural sphere as a mere superstructure that reflects an economic infrastructure based on class power, authors like Fromm (1941), Horkheimer and Adorno (2002 [1944]) and Marcuse (1964) exchanged faith in an inevitable socialist revolution for the necessity of liberation from ideological indoctrination. This entailed a profound transformation of the old-school Marxism that claimed an objective scientific status for itself. Whereas the latter ‘scientific Marxism’ charged its bourgeois critics with betraying ideals of objectivity and impartiality and with legitimizing the existing order and its reigning interests, the Frankfurters rejected ‘the cult of objective fact as such, and not merely its alleged misapplications’ (Gellner 1992, 33).

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

11

Thus, in Dialectic of Enlightenment (2002 [1944]), indeed a telling title, Horkheimer and Adorno argued that reason had changed from an emancipatory force into an oppressive one because it had gradually been reduced to pure instrumentality and calculability. This had gone hand in hand with the scientific reduction of ‘the world’ to a mere ensemble of facts, studied by a positivism that equates ‘reality’ with ‘that what is’ and as such excludes the dimension of possibility or ‘that what could be.’ Marcuse (1964) unfolds a similar argument in One-Dimensional Man, also critiquing the confinement of science, reason and truth to ‘that what is’ and underscoring the importance of a thinking that dares to speculate and open up new, emancipatory vistas. With this emphasis on the necessity of conceiving attainable utopias that counter the weight of seemingly neutral descriptions of existing reality, the Frankfurters targeted empirical science’s ‘fact fetishism’ and gave a social twist to Romanticism’s belief in the blessings of the faculty of imagination. In line with this, the Frankfurters felt that those living in the West people did not at all live free and happy lives in tolerant and democratic societies, but were merely made to believe that they did. Hence Marcuse’s (1964) argument that consciousness-raising and freeing one’s mind are the conditions as much the goals of genuine political action. Horkheimer and Adorno (2002 [1944]) similarly critiqued the ‘culture industries’ for keeping people in a shiftless, complacent, and uncritical state of half sleep that veils harsh realities and seduces them into mistaking their alienation for a state of satisfaction and happiness. These are indeed Romantic notions that differ profoundly from old-school Marxism (Campbell 2007, 294–295; Josephson-Storm 2017, 209–239). They sounded like music to the young countercultural protesters’ ears, witness slogans like ‘Power to the imagination!’ and ‘If the theory doesn’t fit the facts, then that’s too bad for the facts!’ Slogans like this still sound familiar today, even though they now tend to come from the Trumpean right (Duncombe 2007). The period from the 1980s onward then witnessed a cross-fertilization of the heritage of the Frankfurt School with newly emerged French poststructuralism (Derrida, Foucault, Lacan, Deleuze, Baudrillard, etcetera). This produced the so-called postmodern turn in the humanities and social sciences, meanwhile firmly institutionalized in the new transdisciplinary field of cultural studies (Inglis 2007). This postmodernism also rejects the epistemic authority of science. It underscores that there is no way to ‘neutrally’ or ‘objectively’ decide on the validity of competing knowledge

12

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

claims because the latter are inextricably bound up with incommensurable cultural frames. Postmodernism does as such entail ‘the dissipation of objectivity,’ as Zygmunt Bauman (1992, 35) puts it: ‘The element most conspicuously absent is a reference to the supracommunal, “extraterritorial” grounds of truth and meaning.’ Or in the words of Aronowitz (1992, 258): ‘Postmodern thought […] is bound to discourse, literally narratives about the world that are admittedly partial. Indeed, one of the crucial features of discourse is the intimate tie between knowledge and interest, the latter being understood as a “standpoint” from which to grasp “reality”.’ Culture is here hence regarded as consisting of heterogeneous ‘language games’ (Lyotard 1984) or incommensurable ‘vocabularies’ (Rorty 1979; 1989) that compete and clash with each other without the possibility of a fair and neutral settlement. ‘Once the veil of epistemic privilege is torn away […], science appears as a social force enmeshed in particular cultural and power struggles. The claim to truth, as Foucault has proposed, is inextricably an act of power—a will to form humanity,’ as Seidman (1991, 134–135) summarizes the postmodern position. This postmodern account of the inescapability of cultural pluralism and of the impotence of science in overcoming it through a strictly ‘neutral’ or ‘objective’ representation of ‘reality as it really is’ echoes Weber’s Wissenschaftslehre. Yet, while Weber crafted his doctrine of value neutrality to protect science against the politicization this so easily gives rise to, the latter is precisely what postmodernists encourage and celebrate. For postmodernism conceives itself as a ‘philosophy of difference’ that aims to defend subaltern groups against the totalizing claims of scientific ‘meta-narratives’ that claim epistemological authority in the name of social progress (through technology) or individual emancipation (through Enlightenment) (Lyotard 1984). This postmodern defense of difference by what its critics call ‘the academic left’ (Gross and Levitt 1994) informs political engagements with the identity politics of new social movements, especially the women’s, gay and lesbian and Black Lives Matter movements. Now such postmodern identity politics may be overwhelmingly leftist, but it has despite obvious differences much in common with today’s rightist populist, nationalist, and authoritarian identity politics, be it in Europe, the United States, or elsewhere. The latter’s dreams of ethnic and cultural sameness are similarly informed by notions of insurmountable

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

13

cultural difference, and it similarly invokes the utopian cultural imagination in its struggles to overcome the injustices of actually existing society (Canovan 1999). Also like its leftist counterpart it contests the authority of science by hawking the superiority of direct personal experience, in this case by celebrating the practical insight of ‘the common people,’ i.e., ‘what every person with just a modicum of common sense knows’ (Taggart 2000, 95–98). The new populist right, in short, has much in common with the postmodern identity politics of the left, with the left-libertarian counter culture of the 1960s and 1970s, and with the Romantic movement from the late-eighteenth century onwards. The basic stance vis-à-vis science is much the same: that it is intellectually misguided and morally wrong to conceive it as superior to non-scientific ways of understanding the world. Contestations about the authority of science are as such neither new nor necessarily ‘rightist’ and ‘authoritarian.’

3 Sociology of Science and Sociology of Religion Authority cannot simply be claimed or asserted, because it is ultimately endorsed, assigned, dismissed, or withdrawn by those assumed, or just hoped, to obey to it.2 Sociological studies of the authority of science therefore need to give culture and meaning their full due, which is why this book seeks theoretical inspiration from sociology of religion rather than from Science and Technology Studies (STS). For while culture has of course never been absent in the sociological study of science (Callon 1995), the latter has nonetheless always treated it step-motherly, certainly in comparison to the sociology of religion. This is exemplified by Merton’s (1973 [1942]) classical account of the normative ethos of science, which remains limited to the norms that guarantee the production of objective and true knowledge and bypasses how culture influences researchers’ problem selections, their theorizing, and their interpretations of their research findings. Merton’s account thus sticks firmly to the positivist premise of science as the producer of objective and true knowledge that basically mirrors a reality ‘out there.’ Without doubt, Thomas Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962) entails the most influential break with this logic. For its argument is that the truth-value of empirical evidence is never simply ‘given,’ but always informed by a ‘paradigm’ (e.g., Newtonian physics). Such a paradigm entails a sort of worldview that defines a series of

14

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

taken-for-granted premises about the nature of reality and operates as a regulatory framework in science. It as such delineates meaningful research problems and provides coherent interpretations for research findings. In their research training young scientists are taught to take its quasimetaphysical assumptions for granted, are familiarized with exemplars of ‘good science’ informed by it, and learn how to define and solve ‘good’ research problems. This results in practices of ‘normal science,’ with scientists engaging in ‘puzzle-solving,’ typically without being reflexively aware of the paradigm’s influence. Things start to change when research findings start accumulating that the ruling paradigm cannot really make sense of. Then a new paradigm that can do so replaces the old one, without any guarantee that history will not repeat itself later on. Highlighting the role of worldviews in the conduct of science and underscoring the incommensurability of paradigms, Kuhn refers to such shifts as ‘scientific revolutions.’ The work of the Edinburgh School in the Sociology of Scientific Knowledge (SSK) has similarly much to offer to a cultural sociology of science (e.g., Barnes 1974; Bloor 1976; Barnes, Bloor and Henry 1996). More than that: it has inspired the influential ‘strong program in cultural sociology,’ which does not necessarily remain limited to the study of science (Alexander and Smith 2003). Bloor’s (1976) major contribution lies in bringing scientific knowledge under the aegis of the sociology of knowledge, which had traditionally confined itself to the study of non-scientific knowledge like folk wisdoms and religious cosmologies. To explain this remarkable and problematic self-limitation Bloor (1976, 46–54) invoked the Durkheimian notion of the sacred, pointing out that treating scientific and non-scientific knowledge on equal footing comes down to defiling the sacred: ‘Science is sacred, so it must be kept apart […] (to protect) it from pollution which would destroy its efficacy, authority and strength as a source of knowledge’ (idem, 49). Precisely such a profanation of science defines Bloor’s (1976, 7) ‘strong programme in the sociology of knowledge.’ For the latter is informed by the principle of ‘symmetry,’ according to which sociology should remain ‘impartial with respect to truth and falsity, rationality or irrationality, success or failure’ and should be ‘symmetrical in its style of explanation,’ in the sense that ‘the same types of cause would explain, say, true and false beliefs’ (idem, 7). This principle of symmetry defines the actual truth status of scientific truth claims as a sociological non-issue, which paves the

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

15

way for a less timid and more intellectually mature sociology of science, not least a cultural sociology of science. The Edinburgh School has however also stimulated studies about the ways in which scientific, economic, and political interests influence the production of scientific knowledge and technology (e.g., Barnes 1977) that laid the foundations for Science and Technology Studies (STS) (e.g., Jasanoff et al. 1995). The latter has a marked interest in ‘science in action’ (Latour 1987), i.e., ethnographic studies of positive and medical scientists at work in their laboratories, constructing scientific facts and technologies (Latour and Woolgar 1979). Such studies in STS have also pointed out that scientific knowledge does not represent or mirror the world directly and objectively, because in practice the process is much more messy, involving a wide range of human and non-human ‘entities that all contribute to scientific production: electrons and chromatographers, the president of the United States and Einstein, physicians with their assistants, the cancer research campaign, electron microscopes and their manufactures’ (Callon 1995, 54). This insight has given rise to ActorNetwork-Theory (ANT) as a strictly symmetrical approach of networks of human and non-human ‘actants’ (Latour 2005; see also Law 1987). All this is however hardly useful for a cultural-sociological analysis of the authority of science.3 Sociology of religion has indeed more to offer to the study of the authority of science than Science and Technology Studies (STS), also due to scientism’s status as religion’s secular counterpart. This is why we seek our principal theoretical inspiration in this book from sociological theories about the authority of religion. It is indeed often overlooked that religion and science have more in common than typically acknowledged, because ‘the […] cognitive ethic of the Enlightenment […] shares with monotheistic exclusive scriptural religion the belief in the existence of a unique truth, instead of an endless plurality of meaning-systems’ (Gellner 1992, 84). Religion and science do thus both assume the existence of culturally unmediated truth, unpolluted by human understandings and prejudices— ‘real’ truth, binding to everyone. This does of course not mean that the two are identical, because they are obviously not, neither ontologically (a supernatural reality is not the same as an empirically observable reality), nor epistemologically (belief is not the same as reason). Contrary to religion, in other words, science ‘repudiates the idea that [truth] is related to a privileged Source, and could even be definitive’ (idem, 84).

16

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

The commonality of religion and science invokes a shared urge to authoritatively assess the validity of lay beliefs. In science this pertains to the latter’s rationality or irrationality, i.e., their truth or falsity according to scientific standards; in religion it is their conformity to orthodoxy as defined by God-revealed truth.4 This similarity between science and religion informs the special sensitivity in Science and Technology Studies (STS) and sociology of religion alike to the problem of ‘going native,’ i.e., researchers blindly accepting and reproducing emic understandings of truth and falsity. Both fields deal with this problem by refusing to privilege particular truth claims, while discrediting others as ‘false.’ Science and Technology Studies (STS) bracket issues of (‘real’) truth by invoking the abovementioned principle of ‘symmetry.’ Sociology of religion insists on the principle of ‘methodological agnosticism’ (Furseth and Repstad 2006, 197–198), according to which sociology cannot and should not evaluate the truth or falsity of religious doctrines (e.g., about the existence or ontological qualities of the sacred) (see also Wilson 1982, 1–26). In what follows we introduce three sociological theories about the authority of religion and explain how they inform this book’s contributions about the authority of science vis-à-vis other social fields or realms (Part I), the authority of scientific truth claims (Part II), and the authority of scientific institutions (Part III).

4

Secularization and the Authority of Religion and Science 4.1

Secularization and Pluralism

The secularization theory that became dominant in postwar sociology is not one single and unitary thing, but not a hopelessly unstructured mess either (Casanova 1994; Dobbelaere 1981; 2016; Tschannen 1991; Wallis and Bruce 1992). It consists of theses about religious decline and religious privatization. The thesis of religious decline holds that secularization unfolds as a process in which more and more people become less and less religious (e.g., Norris and Inglehart 2004). According to the thesis of religious privatization, religiousness ceases to be the societal default option, so that individuals become increasingly free to make their own decisions about being religious or not, and if so, how exactly (e.g.,

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

17

Luckmann 1967; Taylor 2007). Religious decline and religious privatization themselves are attributed to a more general process of structural differentiation that coincides with an increase in pluralism. Structural differentiation and cultural pluralization do as such entail the virtually uncontested backbone of the theory of secularization. Religion, or so the argument goes, loses its authority to morally overarch all of society as a sort of ‘sacred canopy,’ as Peter Berger (1967) has influentially put it. A situation in which religion permeates basically all of society, ranging from art to politics and from education to health care, gives way to one in which these realms have become largely independent from religion. Examples are the separation of church and state; science becoming a strictly secular endeavor, free of religious interference; and responsibilities in health care and education shifting from religious orders to professionally trained experts. This results in a society with a range of ‘subsystems’ (or ‘fields’ if one prefers) that all follow their own particular institutional logic, independent of religion. While medieval art was still basically religious art, and while religion and science were still inextricably intertwined before the Renaissance, art and science alike have meanwhile increasingly got rid of religious interference (e.g., Dobbelaere 2016; Wilson 1976; 1982). According to the theory of secularization, then, due to structural differentiation and concomitant cultural pluralism ‘religion becomes a subsystem alongside other subsystems, losing in this process its overarching claims over those other subsystems […] [so that] the religious influence is increasingly confined to the religious subsystem itself’ (Dobbelaere 2016, 2). Secularization comes with an increased role of professional knowledge and expertise, technology, and science, which has often been taken to imply a concomitant increase in the authority of science (e.g., Iannaccone, Stark and Finke 1998; Stark and Finke 2000). People in the modern West are as such held to act ‘more and more in terms of insight, knowledge, controllability, planning and technique […]’ (Dobbelaere 1993, 15; translated from Dutch), because ‘(f)or many young people, problems of any kind have technical and rational solutions’ (Wilson 1982, 136). No matter how much this notion is enshrined in the modern self-image and in theories of modernization alike, however, an increased social significance of science does not logically necessitate a concomitant increase in the authority of science. For just like religion science does of course also find itself confronted with a range of subsystems with competing logics and the theory of secularization lacks compelling arguments why it

18

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

would unlike religion end up in the privileged and authoritative position of providing an overarching ‘meta-logic.’ Whether authority of religion does in the course of the secularization process give way to authority of science is in fact an open question, and indeed a pivotal one, even though sociologists of religion have almost consistently overlooked it by taking the affirmative answer for granted. Yet, modern conditions of pluralism may erode the authority of science even more than that of religion. For a science that actively claims an authoritative status sits uneasily with the notion that it is bound to the ‘truth imperative’ (Goudsblom 1980), which confines its authority to nothing but strictly empirical and logical analysis (Weber 2014 [1904]). This imperative moreover prescribes a firm commitment to doubt, critique, and debate, which rules out unassailable truth claims and dogmas (Gellner 1992, 84). While this makes it less likely that science will actually claim the privileged status of a new overarching ‘meta-logic’ in the first place, its openness to doubt, critique, and debate moreover suggests that even if it does, it will face major difficulties in defending itself against competitors vying for its authority. Indeed, as Colin Campbell (2002 [1972], 24) has observed: while the decline in power of organized ethical religion appears to have removed the most effective control over heretical religious beliefs, a growth in the prestige of science results in the absence of control of the beliefs of non-scientists and in an increase in quasi-scientific beliefs.

This does indeed resemble the situation that contemporary science finds itself in, plagued by ‘quasi-scientific beliefs’ that question its authority. 4.2

Part I: Scientific Authority in the Face of Pluralism

The first part of this book, ‘Scientific Authority in the Face of Pluralism,’ addresses the authority of science vis-à-vis other fields. Dick Houtman (Chapter 2) argues that disenchantment in the classical sense of Max Weber transforms the intellectual realm as much as the religious one. Discussing changes since the 1960s within sociology itself, he demonstrates how the process has eroded much of its former pretension of being able to ‘discover’ the truth about human society—the ‘real’ truth, solidly and reliably grounded beyond the cultural imagination. This has liberated culture from its subaltern status as a realm of mere ‘perceptions,’

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

19

amenable to correction by sociological knowledge about how things ‘really’ stand. Discarding such inflated claims to scientific authority, sociology has instead come to understand culture as a vital aspect of social life in and of itself that does as such demand serious research attention. The discipline has in the process ended up in a position that is strikingly similar to the one secularization theory has always envisaged for religion, i.e., as lacking any special authority beyond its own realm. Stef Aupers and Lars de Wildt (Chapter 3) point out that the orthodoxies of modern science have always been challenged by their heterodox counterparts. Yet, while heterodox science was traditionally an endeavor by intellectual counter elites, the rise of the Internet has made it possible for the public at large to join in, which has happened on a large scale. The relevant web forums and online communities boast radical distrust vis-à-vis established science and spark ‘truth wars’ between trained scientific experts representing orthodox science and their heterodox amateur counterparts. Now while orthodox science has always faced the need to defend itself against heterodox challengers, discrediting today’s critics by branding them ‘irrational pseudo-scientists’ is far from easy. For today’s web forums and online communities are not only hotbeds where heterodox science is actively discussed, developed, and disseminated, but they are also environments where deviant scientific ideas are powerfully socially and algorithmically consolidated and sustained, even to the extent that radicalization becomes likely. Rudi Laermans (Chapter 4) addresses how the universities have meanwhile opened up to arts-based research, which produces a type of knowledge that differs profoundly from traditional scientific knowledge. As a manifestation of the arts’ ‘regime of singularity’ this knowledge is unavoidably experience- and practice-based and informed by the personal experiences and subjectivity of the artist. Such knowledge cannot be reconciled with the standards that traditionally underpin the authority of science, i.e., non-singular conceptual rationalism, methodological rigor, replication and peer control, and contribution to the accumulation of knowledge. Advocates of arts-based research do therefore emphasize the particularity and distinct epistemic nature of artistic knowledge to endow it with an epistemic status that differs from science, yet does meet generic academic—not: scientific—standards. They do as such not straightforwardly reject the authority of science, yet repudiate the notion that it has a monopoly on worthwhile knowledge. In doing so, they invoke more broadly defined academic standards that enable them to neither give in

20

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

on the particularity of art nor dismiss the authority of science. That the resulting ‘academization of the arts’ has occurred without much opposition from adherents of the traditional epistemic ideals of science testifies to the relativization of the authority of science in academia.

5 5.1

Cultural Worldviews and the Authority of Scientific Truth Claims Max Weber and Emile Durkheim on Religion and Meaning

Despite their otherwise major differences, not least their understandings of what religion ‘is’ and ‘does,’ the classical sociologies of religion of Max Weber and Emile Durkheim do both address the significance of religion beyond a strictly defined religious realm. More specifically, they both foreground the role of religious worldviews in endowing the world with meaning, i.e., in distinguishing between what is ‘good’ and what is ‘bad,’ and in pointing out the action repertoires that the religiously pious should pursue or rather stay away from.5 Unlike the theory of secularization discussed above, this second theory can as such not account for the endorsement or rejection of the authority of science as a field in and of itself, but rather for why religiously (or more generally: culturally) defined groups differ as to the types of truth claims they tend to accept as unbiased and valid or reject as false and invalid. Weber’s comparative and historical analysis of the world religions aims to demonstrate that, and explain why, the inner-worldly asceticism of sixteenth-century Puritan Protestantism, especially Calvinism, contributed to the breakthrough of rationalized modernity in the West, especially modern entrepreneurship and capitalism. This is so, Weber argues, because a sort of positive cultural resonance (Wahlverwandtschaft , typically translated as ‘elective affinity’) exists between the Protestant ideal of a sober, disciplined and economically active lifestyle on the one hand and on the other hand the spirit of modern capitalist entrepreneurship, defined by its incessant goal-rational handling of capital and other production factors. Other world religions, like Buddhism, Hinduism and Confucianism, had very different consequences, because they were either mystical rather than ascetic and/or other-worldly rather than inner-worldly. They as such discouraged rather than stimulated mundane economic activities (Weber 1946 [1921]; 1963 [1922]). Weber’s most famous study, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (2005

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

21

[1904/05]), hence addresses just one single link within a much more extensive account of the economic consequences of the world religions (Collins 2007). In The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (1995 [1912]) the late, cultural-sociological Durkheim similarly addresses religion’s consequences beyond a strictly defined religious realm. In doing so, Durkheim came back full circle to the position that he had initially dismissed in The Division of Labor in Society (1964 [1893]). For this early, positivist Durkheim still argued that religion could only provide cultural cohesion and solidarity in pre-modern society (‘mechanical solidarity’), so that its modern counterpart could only be based on ‘organic solidarity,’ brought about by an awareness of the interdependencies that come with the modern division of labor. The late Durkheim, however, maintains that all societies, pre-modern and modern alike, are held together by a common religion, understood as a group-based ‘unified system of beliefs and practices relative to sacred things, that is to say, things set apart and forbidden’ (1995 [1912], 44). In this understanding religion does hence not necessarily refer to supernatural beings, but rather to something deemed so special and important that it needs to be set apart, celebrated, and protected against pollution by the mundane and the everyday. In Durkheim’s hands religion thus pertains to collectively held beliefs about what sets ‘the sacred’ apart from ‘the profane’ and to ritual practices aimed at protecting the former from pollution by the latter. Even though the Weberian and Durkheimian accounts of religion are often counterposed, or even portrayed as excluding each other, then, they do both bring out that religious worldviews have implications that stretch beyond a narrowly defined religious realm. This is because religious worldviews are in both instances held to tell the pious what is good or pure and what is bad or impure, and to inform them about the action repertoires they are expected to pursue and abstain from. Religious worldviews (or more generally: cultural ones) do as such also define distinctions between those scientific truth claims that sustain the good, the pure, and the sacred, and those that rather pose a profane threat to it. Cultural worldviews thus lead the former to be embraced and cherished and the latter to be neglected, discarded, and dismissed. Whereas Weber’s and Durkheim’s sociologies of culture and religion differ profoundly in other respects, in short, they do nonetheless both suggest that cultural worldviews matter a lot when it comes to the acceptance or dismissal of scientific truth claims.

22

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

Contemporary theories about ‘post-truth,’ i.e., truth claims accepted without reference to scientific evidence, lead to much the same expectation for basically the same reasons. The best known of these theories address ‘confirmation bias’ (Nickerson 1998), ‘motivated reasoning’ (Kunda 1990), and ‘avoidance of cognitive dissonance’ (Festinger 1962). ‘Confirmation bias’ and ‘motivated reasoning’ do like Weberian positive elective affinity and Durkheimian celebration of the sacred refer to the tendency to positively appreciate information that is compatible with pre-existing beliefs. ‘Avoidance of cognitive dissonance,’ on the other hand, entails the logical counterpart of confirmation bias and motivated reasoning, i.e., the tendency to try and avoid feelings of discomfort invoked by information that appears to challenge one’s pre-existing beliefs (see, e.g., Manjoo 2008). This can as such also be understood in terms of either negative elective affinity (Weber) or preventing the profane from polluting the sacred (Durkheim).6 5.2

Part II: Cultural Worldviews and the Authority of Scientific Truth Claims

The second part of this book addresses how cultural worldviews evoke or discourage interest in and affinity with particular types of scientific truth claims, leading to the latter’s acceptance or dismissal. Liza Cortois and Anneke Pons-de Wit (Chapter 5) demonstrate that the contrasting religious worldviews of mindfulness and conservative Protestantism do both spark an interest in neuroscientific research about the plasticity of the brain. Yet, their different elective affinities with neuroscience direct their adherents toward different types of neuroscientific insights. Whereas mindfulness aficionados gravitate toward insights according to which the brain can be ‘improved’ through meditation, conservative Protestants are primarily interested in how modern digital media can ‘damage’ the brain. Paul Tromp and Peter Achterberg (Chapter 6) then present evidence of the role of political worldviews in lay understandings of truth and falsity. Following in the footsteps of Douglas and Wildavsky (1982) they demonstrate firstly that those with rightist-conservative political profiles are less likely to believe in the actual occurrence of global warming than their leftist-progressive counterparts. Using experimentally manipulated news reports about research findings that appear to contradict climate change, they then show that those with leftist-progressive political profiles do with both hands seize evidence that these findings may be compatible with the

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

23

scientific consensus of actually occurring climate change after all. This means that not only the authority assigned to research findings, but even the interpretation of the scientific consensus within which these findings are launched, is informed by political worldviews. Like those reported in the previous chapter, then, these findings demonstrate that cultural worldviews matter a lot when it comes to endowing scientific truth claims with authority rather than neglecting or dismissing them. The findings of this chapter do in fact even go a step further than those of the previous one, because they demonstrate that people with different worldviews do not only have their own particular pet research findings, but do even evaluate the truth status of the very same facts on the basis of their cultural worldview.

6

Contestations of the Authority of Scientific Institutions 6.1

The Spiritual Turn in Religion

Since the end of the twentieth century sociology of religion has witnessed the emergence of a theory about a ‘spiritual turn’ in religion. It does not so much posit a decline of religion per se as part of a more general process of secularization, but rather that religious institutions have lost much of their former authority (e.g., Davie 1994; Heelas and Woodhead 2005; Houtman and Mascini 2002; Houtman and Aupers 2007; Tromp, Pless and Houtman 2020). This theory accounts for the increasing numbers of Westerners who self-identify as ‘spiritual but not religious,’ producing utterances like, ‘No, I am not religious; I want to follow my personal spiritual path’ or ‘I do not believe in God, but I do believe that there is “something”.’ On the basis of such evidence Heelas and Woodhead (2005) have suggested that a ‘spiritual revolution’ may be underway, consisting of a major transition from ‘religion’ to ‘spirituality,’ while Campbell (2007, 41) even goes so far as to observe ‘a fundamental revolution in Western civilisation, one that can be compared in significance to the Renaissance, the Reformation, or the Enlightenment.’ This spiritual turn entails the dissemination of a specific type of religious discourse that dismisses religion’s traditional organizationalinstitutional entrapments. It posits that the sacred cannot be captured in human-made institutions, because the latter are ultimately profane; i.e., false, shoddy, mundane, human-made, and ‘invented’ side issues

24

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

that distract from what religion is (or rather: should be) ‘really’ about: engaging in personal contact with the sacred (Roeland et al. 2010). Religious institutions are as such accused of placing too much emphasis on institutional and ritual side issues and of wrongly conceiving the religious traditions they embody as different from, conflicting with, and superior to others. This critique informs the spiritual notion of ‘polymorphism’ (Campbell 1978, 149) or more typically ‘perennialism,’ which holds that what religious traditions have in common is more important than what sets them apart (‘There are many paths, but there is just one truth’). Today’s spiritual discourse thus rests on a binary distinction between ‘spirituality’ and ‘institutional religion,’ conceived as ‘real’ respectively ‘false’ religion, a distinction that is basically uncontested among those who self-identify as ‘spiritual, but not religious.’ Spirituality does as such entail a type of religion that dismisses institutions, foregrounds a personal connection with the divine, and underscores the significance of personal spiritual experience. All this gives rise to the practices of personal bricolage, syncretism, and spiritual seeking that have since Thomas Luckmann’s The Invisible Religion (1967) more often than not been misconstrued as strictly privatized (see for critiques: Aupers and Houtman 2006; Besecke 2005; Woodhead 2010). For in fact contemporary spirituality entails an excellent illustration of religion in the classical Durkheimian sense, i.e., religion as a shared cultural discourse that is organized around a binary distinction between ‘the sacred’ and ‘the profane’ (here: religious institutions) (Alexander 1988; Durkheim 1995 [1912]). 6.2

Part III: Contesting the Authority of Scientific Institutions

Such contestations of institutions do not remain confined to religion, as can for instance be seen in populist critiques of party-centered politics and neglect of what ought to be central to democratic politics, i.e., the interests of ‘the people’ (e.g., Canovan 1999; Houtman, Laermans and Simons 2021). Critiques of the institutional bulwarks of science should similarly not be mistaken for contestations of the authority of science per se. For universities and research institutes are often critiqued for giving up on ‘real’ science, for betraying scientific ideals of democratic and critical openness, for engaging in submissive ‘Big Science’ and selling out to ‘Big Corporations’ and ‘Big Government.’7 Part III of this book thus demonstrates that today’s contestations of the authority of scientific institutions should not be confused with contestations of the authority of science per

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

25

se. Indeed, the former are often informed by normative ideals of ‘real’ science, i.e., ‘science as it should be.’ Massimiliano Simons (Chapter 7) discusses the Do-It-Yourself biology movement, also known as ‘garage biology,’ ‘kitchen biology,’ ‘biohacking,’ or ‘biopunk.’ It engages in biological research outside scientific institutions, even though many of those concerned have academic credentials. DIY biology is not at all ‘against’ science, but profoundly dislikes the ways in which authoritarian, routinized scientific institutions with their stifling bureaucracy and disturbing office politics straightjacket science in close collaboration with multinational corporations and state actors. Informed by the anti-institutional ethos of the countercultural computer hacker movement it boasts ideals of democratic openness, open source, sharing of resources, and decentralization. It dreams of liberating science from its institutional entrapments, of democratizing research by making it accessible to everyone, and of reawakening the sheer spirit of pleasure, fun, and creativity held to lie at the heart of science. The dream of DiY biology is one of ‘science without scientists.’ Jaron Harambam and Stef Aupers (Chapter 8) then present findings from an ethnographic study of conspiracy theorists, who are vociferously present among today’s critics of science. Typically branded by scientists as dangerous, irrational and deluded loonies, they do however not reject the scientific endeavor per se either, but rather accuse modern universities, research institutes, and the scientists they employ of being insufficiently scientific. They feel that science lacks a skeptical, open-minded, and critical edge and pride themselves on being less dogmatic and more critical than the typical academic scientist or scientific expert. Much like DIY biology, then, they accuse the universities of having degenerated into dull, routinized research factories that stand in the way of the free spirit of science: lost in bureaucratic and economic side issues, enlisted by powerful states and corporations, and in effect no longer hospitable to ‘real’ science, driven by open-mindedness and curiosity. Finally, Peter Achterberg, Willem de Koster, and Jeroen van der Waal (Chapter 9) analyze survey data to demonstrate that, unlike what is often believed, the lower educated embrace ideals of unbiased scientific research as much as the higher educated do. They also show, however, that those concerned are more skeptical than the higher educated are about whether everyday scientific practices do actually live up to these ideals. Distrust of science among the lower educated does as such not entail a rejection of

26

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

the scientific endeavor per se. It remains limited to the institutional side of science and does moreover stem from their well-documented lack of trust in institutions in general, so certainly not only scientific ones.

7

Conclusion: Science Under Siege

Today’s contestations of the authority of science are too interesting and too intellectually significant to be merely mourned and protested against. For it is clear that they sit quite uneasily with the long-standing notions of a fundamental dissimilarity and conflict between religion and science (Evans and Evans 2008) and of social change as resulting from a ‘warfare of science with theology’ (White 1960) or a ‘religion/science conflict’ (Sappington 1991). According to such understandings, the unfolding of modernity results in a displacement of religion by science, i.e., a transition from authority of religion to authority of science, a notion that informs sociological theories of modernization. Today’s contestations of the authority of science suggest that sociologists need to be more skeptical about such claims than they have traditionally been. The authority of religion has since the 1960s surely declined significantly in most Western-European countries (e.g., Brown 2001; Bruce 2002; Norris and Inglehart 2004), and also—though less typically acknowledged—in the United States (Voas and Chaves 2016). Sociologists have however tended to accept the notion that this process has coincided with an increase in the authority of science as an article of faith rather than a scientific hypothesis in need of critical empirical testing. For the sobering fact is that as yet hardly any research has systematically addressed this pivotal question (see for an exception Gauchat 2012). Today’s contestations of the authority of science may indeed indicate that accounts of a declining authority of religion tell only half the story. What may have eroded instead is something more general and more fundamental, i.e., the acceptance of universally binding truth claims, be they religiously or scientifically informed. Such a dual decline of the authorities of religion and science alike does not signal a process of ‘modernization,’ but rather one of ‘postmodernization,’ with religion and science alike losing their former authority (e.g., Bauman 1987; 1992; Inglehart 1997). Precisely because such a process entails a major rupture with how the modern West has traditionally understood itself and its further development, there is ample reason to open up this issue for systematic empirical study.

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

27

Yet, as we have seen, lamentation, disapproval, and political protest are the more typical responses, with scientists, politicians, and journalists bemoaning ‘anti-intellectual’ currents and critiquing those who ‘irrationally’ refuse to accept the authority of science. These are textbook examples of ‘boundary work’ (Gieryn 1983; 1999): they create an asymmetrical divide between ‘us’ and ‘them’ and in so doing re-assert precisely the pretensions of modern science that are so heavily contested nowadays.8 Such boundary work moreover obscures that similar critiques of science are expressed from within academia itself, too, not least from within the humanities and the social sciences, and not least about the instrumentalization of science and its subordination to vested political and economic interests. A more fundamental reflection thus appears called for. Unlike academic prophets of doom have it, eradicating misplaced pretensions of strictly objective and unmediated truth may not so much lead to the end of science, but rather open the door to a better science— a science that is more critical of long-standing scientific practices and self-understandings that impede the quest for truth. Indeed, as one of the sociological pioneers of the study of science already pointed out amidst World War II, long before the unrest that would break out at the academic front in the 1960s: ‘An institution under attack must reexamine its foundations, restate its objectives, seek out its rationale. Crisis invites self-appraisal’ (Merton 1973 [1942], 267).

Notes 1. The picture does of course become even more complex if one realizes that there are likely to be many other reasons for (non-)use of contraceptives than sexual pleasure and avoidance of sexually transmitted diseases. Men may for instance define condom use as ‘un-manly’ and deny women’s right to go against their male wishes and desires, perhaps especially so in nonWestern settings. 2. Needless to say, we here follow Max Weber’s (1978 [1921/22], 215) classical conceptualization of authority as ‘legitimate domination,’ according to which ‘the validity of […] claims to legitimacy’ does inevitably rest on either ‘belief’ (legal and traditional authority) or ‘devotion’ (charismatic authority). 3. The sociological study of science does of course not discard culture altogether, as can be seen from Donna Haraway’s work on the situatedness of knowledge (Haraway 1988) and Sandra Harding’s standpoint theory (2004) cited above (see also Callon 1995). Karin Knorr-Cetina also takes

28

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

culture much more seriously than STS generally, and ANT in particular. Her work about ‘epistemic cultures’ that drive knowledge production in fields like molecular biology and particle physics does indeed entail an elaboration of Kuhn’s classical work on the role of paradigms in science (Knorr-Cetina 1999). Another good example is Sheila Jasanoff’s work about how distinct national risk cultures affect the regulation of genetic engineering and medicine research in the USA and Europe (2012, 23– 41, 133–149) and about ‘sociotechnical imaginaries,’ i.e., ‘collectively held, institutionally stabilized, and publicly performed visions of desirable futures, animated by shared understandings of forms of social life and social order attainable through, and supportive of, advances in science and technology’ (Jasanoff 2015, 4). This similarity between religion and science applies especially to the more orthodox strains of western-style Abrahamic revelation religions like Judaism, Christianity, and Islam on the one hand and the natural sciences (and varieties of social science modeled after the latter) on the other (Furseth and Repstad 2006, 197–208). Precisely this common notion that religion informs people’s cultural understandings of the world, and in effect drives their lifestyles, too, makes the classical sociologies of religion of Weber and Durkheim such valuable blueprints for cultural sociology (e.g., Alexander 1988; Houtman and Achterberg 2016). Despite these marked convergences between Weber’s and Durkheim’s classical accounts and these three modern theories, the latter are positivist theories, informed by distinctions between knowledge about ‘reality as it really is’ and ‘culture and belief.’ They do as such entail moral condemnations of deviations from rationalism and assume the possibility and superiority of strictly ‘unbiased,’ ‘non-motivated’ reasoning and ‘objective’ knowledge. The cultural-sociological Weberian and Durkheimian accounts do not imply such moralism, as for these this is simply how social life inevitably works, whether one likes it or not. Note that such critiques are not only voiced by external critics of contemporary universities and research institutes, but are also expressed within the academy itself as discontents about the ways in which neoliberal evaluation and funding regimes straightjacket, trivialize, and commodify scientific research. There are indeed good reasons to be skeptical about such un-reflexive moralistic dismissals of public discontents about science and about lukewarm attempts at restoring public trust in science. The latter typically take shape as ‘citizen science,’ with universities and governmental bodies involving citizens in scientific research (e.g., Riesch and Potter 2014). For despite the aura of democratic and participatory ideals, it is hard to see how the deployment of citizens in unpaid data collection could unsettle

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

29

misplaced scientistic pretensions of science entailing a superior way of relating to the world that provides strictly neutral, objective, and culturally unmediated truth.

References Alexander, Jeffrey C. 1988. “Introduction: Durkheimian Sociology and Cultural Studies Today.” In Durkheimian Sociology: Cultural Studies, by Jeffrey C. Alexander, 1–21. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Alexander, Jeffrey C., and Philip Smith. 2003. “The Strong Program in Cultural Sociology: Elements of a Structural Hermeneutics.” In The Meanings of Social Life: A Cultural Sociology, by Jeffrey C. Alexander, 11–26. New York: Oxford University Press. Aronowitz, Stanley. 1992. The Politics of Identity: Class, Culture, Social Movements. London: Routledge. Aupers, Stef, and Dick Houtman. 2006. “Beyond the Spiritual Supermarket: The Social and Public Significance of New Age Spirituality.” Journal of Contemporary Religion 21 (2): 201–22. Barnes, Barry. 1974. Scientific Knowledge and Sociological Theory. London: Routledge. Barnes, Barry. 1977. Interests and the Growth of Knowledge. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Barnes, Barry, David Bloor, and John Henry. 1996. Scientific Knowledge: A Sociological Analysis. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Bauman, Zygmunt. 1987. Legislators and Interpreters: On Modernity, Postmodernity and Intellectuals. Cambridge: Polity. Bauman, Zygmunt. 1992. “Introduction: The Re-Enchantment of the World, or, How Can One Narrate Postmodernity?” In Intimations of Postmodernity, vii–xvii. London: Routledge. Berger, Peter L. 1967. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociology of Religion. New York: Doubleday. Besecke, Kelly. 2005. “Seeing Invisible Religion: Religion as a Societal Conversation about Transcendent Meaning.” Sociological Theory 23 (2): 179–96. Bloor, David. 1976. Science and Social Imagery. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Brown, Callum G. 2001. The Death of Christian Britain: Understanding Secularisation, 1800–2000. London: Routledge. Bruce, Steve. 2002. God Is Dead: Secularisation in the West. Oxford: Blackwell. Brulle, Robert J. 2018. “Critical Reflections on the March for Science.” Sociological Forum 33 (1): 255–8.

30

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

Callon, Michel. 1995. “Four Models for the Dynamics of Science.” In Handbook of Science and Technology Studies, edited by Sheila Jasanoff, Gerald E. Markle, James C. Petersen, and Trevor Pinch, 29–63. Thousand Oaks: Sage. Campbell, Colin. 1978. “The Secret Religion of the Educated Classes.” Sociological Analysis 39 (2): 146–56. Campbell, Colin. 2002 [1972]. “The Cult, the Cultic Milieu and Secularization.” In The Cultic Milieu: Oppositional Subcultures in an Age of Globalization, edited by Jeffrey Kaplan and Heléne Lööw, 12–25. Walnut Creek: Altamira Press. Campbell, Colin. 2007. The Easternization of the West: A Thematic Account of Cultural Change in the Modern Era. Boulder, CO: Paradigm. Canovan, Margaret. 1999. “Trust the People! Populism and the Two Faces of Democracy.” Political Studies 47 (1): 2–16. Casanova, José. 1994. Public Religions in the Modern World. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Collins, Randall. 2007. “The Classical Tradition in Sociology of Religion.” In The Sage Handbook of the Sociology of Religion, edited by James A. Beckford and N.J. Demerath III, 19–38. Los Angeles: Sage. Davie, Grace. 1994. Religion in Britain since 1945: Believing without Belonging. Oxford: Blackwell. Dijksterhuis, E.J. 1961. The Mechanization of the World Picture. New York: Oxford University Press. Dobbelaere, Karel. 1981. Secularization: A Multi-Dimensional Concept. London: Sage. Dobbelaere, Karel. 1993. “Individuele godsdienstigheid in een geseculariseerde samenleving.” [Individual Religiousness in a Secularized Society]. Tijdschrift voor Sociologie 14 (1): 5–29. Dobbelaere, Karel. 2016. “Secularization.” In The Blackwell Encyclopedia of Sociology, edited by George Ritzer. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons. https:// doi.org/10.1002/9781405165518.wbeoss064.pub2. Douglas, Mary, and Aaron Wildavsky. 1982. Risk and Culture: An Essay on the Selection of Technological and Environmental Dangers. Berkeley and Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press. Duncombe, Stephen. 2007. Dream: Re-imagining Progressive Politics in an Age of Fantasy. New York: New Press. Durkheim, Emile. 1964 [1893]. The Division of Labor in Society. New York: Free Press. Durkheim, Emile. 1995 [1912]. The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. New York: Free Press. Evans, John H., and Michael S. Evans. 2008. “Religion and Science: Beyond the Epistemological Conflict Narrative.” Annual Review of Sociology 34: 87–105.

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

31

Festinger, Leon. 1962. “Cognitive Dissonance.” Scientific American 207 (4): 93–106. Fisher, Dana R. 2018. “Scientists in the Resistance.” Sociological Forum 33 (1): 247–50. Fromm, Erich. 1941. Escape from Freedom. New York: Rinehart. Furseth, Inger, and Pål Repstad. 2006. An Introduction to the Sociology of Religion: Classical and Contemporary Perspectives. Aldershot: Ashgate. Gauchat, Gordon. 2012. “Politicization of Science in the Public Sphere: A Study of Public Trust in the United States, 1974 to 2010.” American Sociological Review 77 (2): 167–87. Gellner, Ernest. 1992. Postmodernism, Reason and Religion. London: Routledge. Gieryn, Thomas F. 1983. “Boundary-work and the Demarcation of Science from Non-Science: Strains and Interests in Professional Ideologies of Scientists.” American Sociological Review 48 (December): 781–95. Gieryn, Thomas F. 1999. Cultural Boundaries of Science: Credibility on the Line. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Goudsblom, Johan. 1980. Nihilism and Culture. Totowa, NJ: Rowman and Littlefield. Gouldner, Alvin W. 1962. “Anti-Minotaur: The Myth of a Value-Free Sociology.” Social Problems 9 (Winter): 199–213. Gouldner, Alvin W. 1973. “Romanticism and Classicism: Deep Structures in Social Science.” In For Sociology: Renewal and Critique in Sociology Today, by Alvin W. Gouldner, 323–66. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Gross, Paul R., and Norman Levitt. 1994. Higher Superstition: The Academic Left and Its Quarrels with Science. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Haraway, Donna. 1988. “Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective.” Feminist Studies 14 (3): 575–99. Haraway, Donna. 1989. Primate Visions: Gender, Race, and Nature in the World of Modern Science. New York: Routledge. Harding, Sandra, ed. 2004. Feminist Standpoint Theory: Intellectual and Political Controversies. New York: Routledge. Heelas, Paul, and Linda Woodhead. 2005. The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion Is Giving Way to Spirituality. Oxford: Blackwell. Horkheimer, Max, and Theodor W. Adorno. 2002 [1944]. Dialectic of Enlightenment: Philosophical Fragments. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Houtman, Dick, and Peter Achterberg. 2016. “Quantitative Analysis in Cultural Sociology: Why It Should Be Done, How It Can Be Done.” In Sage Handbook of Cultural Sociology, edited by David Inglis and Anna-Mari Almila, 225–36. London: Sage. Houtman, Dick, and Stef Aupers. 2007. “The Spiritual Turn and the Decline of Tradition: The Spread of Post-Christian Spirituality in Fourteen Western

32

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

Countries (1981–2000).” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 46 (3): 305–20. Houtman, Dick, and Peter Mascini. 2002. “Why Do Churches Become Empty, While New Age Grows? Secularization and Religious Change in the Netherlands.” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 41 (3): 455–73. Houtman, Dick, Rudi Laermans, and Massimiliano Simons. 2021. “Salvaging Cultural Wheat from Institutional Chaff: Anti-Institutionalism in Religion, Politics and Science.” Paper under revision. Iannaccone, Laurence, Rodney Stark, and Roger Finke. 1998. “Rationality and the ‘Religious Mind’.” Economic Inquiry 36 (3): 373–89. Inglehart, Ronald. 1997. Modernization and Postmodernization: Cultural, Economic, and Political Change in 43 Countries. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Inglis, David. 2007. “The Warring Twins: Sociology, Cultural Studies, Alterity and Sameness.” History of the Human Sciences 20 (2): 99–122. Jasonoff, Sheila. 2012. Science and Public Reason. London: Routledge. Jasanoff, Sheila. 2015. “Future Imperfect: Science, Technology, and the Imaginations of Modernity.” In Dreamscapes of Modernity: Sociotechnical Imaginaries and the Fabrication of Power, edited by Sheila Jasanoff and Sang-Hyun Kim, 1–33. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Jasanoff, Sheila, Gerald E. Markle, James C. Petersen, and Trevor Pinch, eds. 1995. Handbook of Science and Technology Studies. Thousand Oaks: Sage. Josephson-Storm, Jason A. 2017. The Myth of Disenchantment: Magic, Modernity, and the Birth of the Human Sciences. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Kinchy, Abby J. 2020. “STS Currents against the ‘Anti-Science’ Tide.” Engaging Science, Technology, and Society 6 (2020): 76–80. Knorr-Cetina, Karin. 1999. Epistemic Cultures: How the Sciences Make Knowledge. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Kuhn, Thomas S. 1962. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Kunda, Ziva. 1990. “The Case for Motivated Reasoning.” Psychological Bulletin 108 (3): 480–98. Latour, Bruno. 1987. Science in Action: How to Follow Scientists and Engineers through Society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Latour, Bruno. 2005. Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-NetworkTheory. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Latour, Bruno, and Steven Woolgar. 1979. Laboratory Life: The Social Construction of Scientific Facts. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Law, John. 1987. “Technology and Heterogeneous Engineering: The Case of Portuguese Expansion.” In The Social Construction of Technological Systems: New Directions in Sociology and History of Technology, edited by Wiebe E.

1

INTRODUCTION: A CULTURAL SOCIOLOGY …

33

Bijker, Thomas Parke Hughes, and Trevor Pinch, 105–27. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Luckmann, Thomas. 1967. The Invisible Religion. London: MacMillan. Lyotard, Jean-François. 1984. The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Manjoo, Farhad. 2008. True Enough: Learning to Live in a Post-Fact Society. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley. Marcuse, Herbert. 1964. One-Dimensional Man: Studies in the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society. Boston: Beacon Press. Marwick, Arthur. 1998. The Sixties: Cultural Revolution in Britain, France, Italy, and the United States, c. 1958–c. 1974. New York: Oxford University Press. Merton, Robert K. 1973 [1942]. “The Normative Structure of Science.” In The Sociology of Science: Theoretical and Empirical Investigations, by Robert K. Merton, 267–80. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Motta, Matthew. 2018. “The Polarizing Effect of the March for Science on Attitudes toward Scientists.” PS: Political Science & Politics 51 (4): 782–88. Musgrove, Frank. 1974. Ecstasy and Holiness: Counter Culture and the Open Society. London: Routledge. Nickerson, Raymond S. 1998. “Confirmation Bias: A Ubiquitous Phenomenon in Many Guises.” Review of General Psychology 2 (2): 175–220. Norris, Pippa, and Ronald Inglehart. 2004. Sacred and Secular: Religion and Politics Worldwide. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Riesch, Hauke, and Clive Potter. 2014. “Citizen Science as Seen by Scientists: Methodological, Epistemological and Ethical Dimensions.” Public Understanding of Science 23 (1): 107–20. Roeland, Johan, Stef Aupers, Dick Houtman, Martijn de Koning, and Ineke Noomen. 2010. “The Quest for Religious Purity in New Age, Evangelicalism and Islam: Religious Renditions of Dutch Youth and the Luckmann Legacy.” In Annual Review of the Sociology of Religion, Volume 1: Youth and Religion, edited by Giuseppe Giordan, 289–306. Leiden: Brill. Rorty, Richard. 1979. Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Rorty, Richard. 1989. Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Roszak, Theodore. 1969. The Making of a Counter Culture: Reflections on the Technocratic Society and Its Youthful Opposition. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Sappington, A.A. 1991. “The Religion/Science Conflict.” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 30 (1): 114–20. Seidman, Steven. 1991. “The End of Sociological Theory: The Postmodern Hope.” Sociological Theory 9 (2): 131–46. Seidman, Steven. 1994. Contested Knowledge: Social Theory in the Postmodern Era. Cambridge: Blackwell.

34

D. HOUTMAN ET AL.

Stark, Rodney, and Roger Finke. 2000. Acts of Faith: Explaining the Human Side of Religion. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Taggart, Paul. 2000. Populism. Buckingham: Open University Press. Taylor, Charles. 2007. A Secular Age. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Toulmin, Stephen. 1990. Cosmopolis: The Hidden Agenda of Modernity. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Tromp, Paul, Anna Pless, and Dick Houtman. 2020. “‘Believing without Belonging’ in Twenty European Countries (1981–2008): De–institutionalization of Christianity or Spiritualization of Religion?” Review of Religious Research 62 (4): 509–31. Tschannen, Olivier. 1991. “The Secularization Paradigm: A Systematization.” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 30 (4): 395–415. Voas, David, and Mark Chaves. 2016. “Is the United States a Counterexample to the Secularization Thesis?” American Journal of Sociology 121 (5): 1517–56. Wallis, Roy, and Steve Bruce. 1992. “Secularization: The Orthodox Model.” In Religion and Modernization: Sociologists and Historians Debate the Secularization Thesis, edited by Steve Bruce, 8–30. Oxford: Clarendon. Weber, Max. 1946 [1921]. “The Social Psychology of the World Religions.” In From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology, edited by Hans H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills, 267–301. New York: Oxford University Press. Weber, Max. 1963 [1922]. The Sociology of Religion. Boston: Beacon Press. Weber, Max. 1978 [1921/22]. Economy and Society: An Outline of Interpretive Sociology (Two Volumes), edited by Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Weber, Max. 2005 [1904/05]. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. London: Routledge. Weber, Max. 2014 [1904]. “The ‘Objectivity’ of Knowledge in Social Science and Social Policy.” In Max Weber: Collected Methodological Writings, edited by Hans Henrik Bruun and Sam Whimster, 100–38. New York: Routledge. White, Andrew Dickson. 1960. A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom (Two Volumes). New York: Dover Publications. Wilson, Bryan. 1976. Contemporary Transformations of Religion. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wilson, Bryan. 1982. Religion in Sociological Perspective. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Woodhead, Linda. 2010. “Real Religion and Fuzzy Spirituality? Taking Sides in the Sociology of Religion.” In Religions of Modernity: Relocating the Sacred to the Self and the Digital, edited by Stef Aupers and Dick Houtman, 31–48. Leiden: Brill. Zijderveld, Anton C. 1970. The Abstract Society: A Cultural Analysis of Our Time. New York: Doubleday.

PART I

Scientific Authority in the Face of Pluralism

CHAPTER 2

The Disenchantment of the World and the Authority of Sociology: How the Queen of the Sciences Lost Her Throne Dick Houtman

The fate of an epoch which has eaten of the tree of knowledge is that it must know that we cannot learn the meaning of the world from the results of its analysis (Max Weber 1949 [1904], 57).

1

Introduction

The authority of sociology is no longer what it used to be. The discipline has lost much of its former confidence of being able to authoritatively reveal the truth about human society—the ‘real’ truth, solidly and reliably grounded beyond the cultural imagination. As a result, culture is

The author gratefully acknowledges the other authors in this book as well as Steve Vallas for their constructive comments on earlier versions of this chapter. D. Houtman (B) Center for Sociological Research, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_2

37

38

D. HOUTMAN

no longer conceived as a realm of ‘perceptions’ amenable to correction by epistemologically superior sociological knowledge about how things ‘really’ stand, but has come to be understood as part and parcel of social life and as such in need of serious research attention. Due to this ‘cultural turn’ sociology has ended up in a position that is strikingly similar to the one secularization theory has always envisaged for religion, i.e., as lacking any special authority beyond its own realm. This reconstruction of sociology is an outcome of the crisis the discipline plunged into half a century ago, due to major controversies about whether it could actually live up to its scientific pretensions. All things considered, it is puzzling that this so-called ‘crisis of sociology’ (Gouldner 1970) came as a shock and a surprise to so many sociologists back then. For half a century earlier Max Weber had already extensively discussed the issues at stake in his Wissenschaftslehre (2014 [1904]). More often than not, however, sociologists have interpreted Weber’s analysis of the relationship between facts and values, or more generally between science and culture, as sustaining a positivist scientific outlook—an interpretation informed by the neglect of the intimate link between Weber’s philosophy of science and his theory about disenchantment (e.g., Bendix 1960, xlviii). While Weber’s theory of disenchantment is one of the best known classical sociological theories, it is indeed also one of the most poorly understood ones, even among professional sociologists. More often than not it has been interpreted as a theory of religion becoming increasingly displaced by science, which is ironically precisely the position that Weber critiques. His argument is rather that due to its boundedness to the scientific ‘truth imperative’ (Goudsblom 1980) science cannot replace religion, because unlike the latter it cannot legitimately proclaim the ‘real’ meaning of the world and its multifarious manifestations, confined as it is to strictly logical and empirical analysis. In what follows I argue that the ‘crisis of sociology’ half a century ago did indeed spark such ambitions of disenchanting sociology, so that sociologists do not even need to look beyond the confines of their own discipline to see the process of disenchantment in full action. The process has meanwhile eroded much of the former epistemic authority of the discipline that Auguste Comte, the godfather of positivism, once dubbed ‘the queen of the sciences.’

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

39

2 Max Weber and the Disenchantment of the World 2.1

From Religion to Science?

The standard interpretation of Weber’s theory of disenchantment distinguishes two interrelated shifts. On the one hand, it is seen as referring to erosion of belief in supernatural powers, so that magic, myth and mystery lose their plausibility and religion loses its former social significance. On the other hand, it is typically taken to refer to an increased role in the modern world of scientific knowledge and technologies based on it. This interpretation basically follows the logic outlined in ‘Science as a Vocation’: ‘The disenchantment of the world […] means that principally there are no mysterious incalculable forces that come into play, but rather that one can, in principle, master all things by calculation’ (1948 [1919], 139). Scientific knowledge about causal chains between empirical phenomena, Weber here suggests, can be instrumentally applied as technology which constitutes a powerful alternative for magical practices: ‘One need no longer have recourse to magical means to master or implore the spirits, as did the savage, for whom such mysterious powers existed. Technical means and calculation perform the service’ (idem, 139). These two shifts combined do however not constitute the displacement of religion by science, but rather that of magic by scientifically informed technology. For as the motto of this chapter testifies, Weber is quite explicit about the fact that science cannot ‘discover’ the ‘real’ meaning of the world and its manifestations. In his understanding, then, it is vital to distinguish magic from religion. Whereas religion points out how to attain salvation from suffering, legislating what believers should do and abstain from, so what is ‘good’ and what is ‘bad,’ magic does not address such metaphysical issues of meaning. It does instead entail instrumental action, aimed at solving practical everyday problems, typically situated at the boundary of nature and society (e.g., illness, infertility, crop failures, and natural disasters). The implication is that while magic can be replaced and superseded by science, more specifically by the technologies it gives rise to, there is no way that science can replace religion. Under the influence of Enlightenment thought the notion of a displacement of religion by science has nonetheless become central to modern self-understandings and the positivist tradition in sociology alike. According to this understanding ‘they,’ the ‘savages,’ the ‘pre-moderns,’

40

D. HOUTMAN

believed in all sorts of supernatural entities that do not ‘really’ exist. ‘We,’ ‘civilized moderns,’ on the other hand, are no longer superstitious believers but embrace a rational scientific outlook in which there is no place for supernatural entities, miracles, myth, and magic. This can most clearly be seen from Comte’s classical positivism, according to which societies develop from a ‘theological’ to a ‘positive’/‘scientific’ stage with a ‘metaphysical’ one in between. In such a positivist narrative, humanity increasingly liberates itself from religion, tradition, and belief, all conceived as sources of ignorance, tutelage, and irrationality. Such a theory of modernization should hence not be confused with Weber’s theory of disenchantment. 2.2

Disenchantment and Religion

It is indeed telling that Weber does not even identify the origins of the process of disenchantment with the rise of modern science. It is rather the other way around: processes of disenchantment in the religious realm have set the stage for the rise of modern science in the age of the Enlightenment in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. More specifically, Weber situates the initial beginnings of disenchantment in the rise of Judaism in what we now call the Middle East. Then and there, one single God rose to power, more or less by chance, i.e., due to incessant wars with other tribes in the area. This single remaining God, Jahweh, was conceived as the person-like creator of the universe, and in effect seen as preceding the latter rather than being immanently present in it. Jahweh was hence radically transcendent and residing in a world of his own, a dualism that precluded magical coercion and manipulation of the divine (see about this: Berger 1967, 105–125). The Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century, initially a reform movement within the Catholic Church, then further radicalized this historically unique anti-magical Judaic monotheism. Aimed at purging religion of magic and immanently present supernatural spirits, forces and powers, Protestantism deepened the gap between the human world and the supernatural one, which Catholicism had kept at bay for many long centuries. Precisely because of its rejection of the belief that the divine could be found within the world itself, Weber considered the Protestant Reformation a major second step in the unfolding historical drama of disenchantment: ‘That great historic process in the development of religion, the elimination of magic from the world which had begun with the

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

41

old Hebrew prophets and […] had repudiated all magical means to salvation as superstition and sin, came here to its logical conclusion’ (Weber 1978 [1904/05], 105). Whereas the sacred could according to Puritanical Protestants not be found in the world itself, the latter became void of sacrality and meaning. Meaning could no longer be found in the world itself, but only bestowed upon it by human beings, e.g., by devout Protestants acting out God’s commandments. The Reformation hence not only made God more transcendent than he had ever been before, but did in the process also rob the world of meaning. Transformed into a mere soulless and meaningless ‘thing,’ it could henceforth be unscrupulously opened up for scientific analysis and technological intervention. Disenchantment, in short, is not simply caused by the rise of modern science, but rooted in long-term processes of religious change that ultimately stimulated the rise of modern science which only after that took over as a major independent driver of disenchantment. 2.3

Disenchantment and Science

At this point, Weber’s Wissenschaftslehre (2014 [1904]) becomes important for his analysis of disenchantment. Addressing the question of whether and how science actually furthers disenchantment, Weber intertwines normative, logical, and empirical analysis into a complex argument that has often been misinterpreted. On the one hand, Weber points out that science does not necessarily disenchant the world, precisely because as religion’s alleged superior successor it constitutes an appealing tool for reendowing the world with solidly grounded meaning. On the other hand, he firmly dismisses such attempts at re-enchanting the world through science as illegitimate and intellectually immature. Weber thus conceives of science as both the principal disenchanting force in the modern world and a powerful source of re-enchantment. On the one hand, he maintains that science reduces the world to a mere meaningless series of causal chains, but on the other hand he is acutely aware how often this disenchanted notion of science clashes with intellectual pretensions of being able to ‘objectively’ ascertain what things ‘really’ or ‘actually’ mean— whether they are ‘normal’ or ‘abnormal,’ ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ ‘beautiful,’ or ‘ugly.’ Science is for Weber hence as much the great ‘disenchanter’ as the great ‘re-enchanter’ of the modern age. He firmly pleads for the former,

42

D. HOUTMAN

disenchanting, variety of science, which is for him in effect more of a normative ideal than a representation of academic reality. He ridicules ‘big children […] found in the natural sciences’ who believe ‘that the findings of astronomy, biology, physics, or chemistry could teach us anything about the meaning of the world’ (Weber 1948 [1919], 142) and he chastises the so-called Kathedersozialisten in the social sciences, socialist university professors who mixed up social-scientific analysis and socialist politics. Paradoxically and ironically, though ultimately inevitably, then, Weber’s desire to banish moralistic discourse disguised as science drove himself into a moralistic position. For his analysis is informed by a morally charged distinction between what one may call ‘real’ science and ‘fake’ science (obviously not labels Weber uses himself). ‘Real’ science in Weber’s understanding is a science that disenchants the world by limiting itself to a strictly logical and empirical analysis of phenomena that are as such treated as basically meaningless; ‘fake’ science is science that re-enchants the world by pretensions of being capable of endowing these same phenomena with scientifically informed, ‘objective’ and ‘true’ meaning. This distinction between ‘real’ and ‘fake’ science should not be confused with the notion that (‘irrational’) ideas that cannot be proven true are inferior to (‘rational’) scientific insights. Rather to the contrary: for Weber the confinement of ‘real’ science to strictly logical and empirical analysis of how the world ‘is,’ is first of all a way to deny science’s superiority over morality. For him, science on the one hand and religion and morality on the other are simply incommensurable in the sense that they are radically different and can as such not be reduced to each other, so that they are ultimately equally legitimate. For Weber, it is not ideas that cannot be proven true that are rejected as inferior, but normative ideas that falsely wear the cloak of science. This position thus differs sharply from the positivist one, according to which religious beliefs, utopian political ideals, and the like are inferior to scientific knowledge. Weber’s notion that one cannot draw moral lessons about how the world ‘ought to be’ from scientific knowledge about how it actually ‘is,’ informs his well-known ethical imperative of value neutrality. The latter maintains that there is no scientifically justifiable path from research findings to their moral evaluation. Whether states of affairs uncovered by science are ‘good’ or ‘bad’ from a moral point of view, whether they need to be accepted, applauded, cherished, combatted, or demolished, is for Weber certainly not an insignificant issue (indeed, to the contrary), but

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

43

it is an issue that cannot be decided on intellectual (logical, empirical) grounds. The full complexity of Weber’s plea to keep ‘ought’ separate from ‘is’ resides in the circumstance that he simultaneously points out that socialscientific research inevitably mixes up facts and values. This is because researchers consider most of what can potentially be known as either irrelevant or uninteresting, so that the research problem that a researcher chooses to address can never be taken for granted. Weber hence understands the conduct of research as just another variety of meaningful action that can be opened up for ‘verstehen’ by scrutinizing value-informed motives of researchers. This highlights the very first step in the research process, the selection of a research problem. This precedes the narrowly defined realm of what we nowadays call ‘methodology,’ i.e., choosing a research design, data collection, and data analysis. Weber’s point is that the selection of a research problem is inevitably informed by values and that there is nothing wrong with that, because this is the only way to produce knowledge that is considered worthwhile. For Weber, there is however something seriously wrong with researchers who deny this role of value-laden normativity in the research process. This is because such a denial results in the false claim that one’s research findings constitute an ‘objective’ representation of social reality as it ‘really’ is, so that one’s findings are binding to everyone. Weber’s notion of ‘truth’ is as such more modest than its positivist counterpart. ‘Truth’ for Weber cannot refer to objective representation, because it inevitably entails subjective selection. The Weberian notion of ‘truth’ entails what one might call ‘truth, lowercase t,’ a representation of social reality that is morally selective and hence one-sided, yet empirically informed. Such a modest understanding of truth needs to be distinguished from the positivist notion of ‘Truth, capital T,’ an objective representation of social reality that is as such binding for everyone. Despite the logical link between the factual inevitability of ‘valuerelatedness’ (Wertbeziehung ) and the ethical demand of ‘value neutrality’ (Wertungsfreiheit ) made on researchers, sociology textbooks tend to downplay the former and foreground the latter. This typically occurs in (sections of) chapters that aim to bring across the point that sociology constitutes a real science (‘Sociology is a science because it is about facts and not about moral evaluations’). ‘Value-relatedness’ (Wertbeziehung ) (‘Facts do not represent reality as it ‘really’ is and do as such not speak for themselves either’) is thus typically treated only stepmotherly, arguably

44

D. HOUTMAN

because it is more difficult to reconcile with a positivist understanding of sociology. Yet, Weber firmly rejects the positivist pretension that social reality can be intellectually represented as it ‘really’ is, because intellectually arbitrary values determine the data to be collected and analyzed in the first place. Denying the resulting one-sidedness and partiality of intellectual representations of social reality by presenting the latter as ‘social reality as it really is,’ and hence as binding to everyone, thus comes down to making value judgments disguised as science, which entails an abuse of science to legislate meaning and re-enchant the world. Weber in effect argues that social-scientific claims about the world consist of two different layers, dimensions or aspects, that need to be carefully distinguished. The first is an empirical one (‘the facts’) and the second is a moral one (the viewpoint that declares these rather than other facts to be important and meaningful). The empirical dimension is always open to scientific critique because the key issue here is about whether— given the selected one-sided point of view—the researcher has her facts straight, i.e., has not made methodological mistakes. The debate about the moral dimension cannot be scientific, however, because the selected point of view cannot be justified or critiqued on scientific grounds. It can only be the target of political or religious critiques that are ultimately a matter of moral taste. Precisely awareness of and concerns about the presence and political consequences of such intellectually arbitrary moral points of view in sociological research plunged the discipline into crisis in the 1960s.

3

The Crisis of Sociology 3.1

Introductory Skirmishes

In the midst of World War II, long before he established himself as one of sociology’s principal critics from within (Mills 1959), C. Wright Mills (1943) published an article in the flagship journal American Journal of Sociology that foreshadowed the intellectual turmoil that would break out in the 1960s. His article explores the social circumstances that sociologists identify as ‘social problems’ or ‘social pathology’ and it infers the ‘type of social person who […] is evaluated as “adjusted”’ in the writings of the ‘social pathologists’ whose professional ideology he here studies (idem, 180). This leads Mills to the conclusion that ‘the ideally adjusted man of the social pathologists is “socialized”,’ more specifically understood

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

45

as ‘the opposite of “selfish”.’ ‘The adjusted man conforms to middleclass morality and motives and “participates” in the gradual progress of respectable institutions,’ he observes, to conclude that ‘The less abstract the traits and fulfilled “needs” of “the adjusted man” are, the more they gravitate toward the norms of independent middle-class persons verbally living out Protestant ideals in the small towns of America’ (idem, 180). Mills’ abundant use of quotation marks is telling. What he aims to bring across is the elementary fact that claims about ‘(un)adjustedness’ are inevitably informed by an implicit, unacknowledged, and unquestioned norm that is far from ‘neutral,’ ‘objective,’ and ‘scientifically informed.’ ‘(Un)adjustedness,’ he elaborates, is always relative to a set of norms, in this case those of mainstream White Anglo-Saxon Protestant (WASP) New England culture. Sociological claims about ‘social problems,’ ‘social pathology,’ and ‘adjustedness,’ in short, are not neutral scientific observations, but basically morally charged claims about good and evil, i.e., about what ‘ought to be’ rather than about what actually ‘is.’ Mills here hence identifies the same two dimensions that Weber had distinguished before him. The first is explicit and empirical: it pertains to factual social circumstances; the second is implicit and moral: it endows these circumstances with meaning by selecting them as significant and worthy of attention and by morally coding them as either ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ This second, moral dimension of sociological analysis points out what the facts at stake ‘mean.’ Mills here hence echoes Weber’s argument about the role of ‘value-relatedness’ in sociological research, i.e., about how sociological claims about social reality are rooted in value positions that cannot be ‘scientifically proven’ to be ‘preferable to’ or ‘better than’ other ones. Mills’ analysis foreshadowed the ‘crisis of sociology’ that would break out in the 1960s. By then many sociologists started doubting whether their discipline was as ‘truly’ scientific as they had traditionally taken it to be—whether at a closer and more critical look it could really ascertain on strictly intellectual grounds what things ‘really’ meant. Those concerned eventually ended up disenchanting sociology by relativizing the epistemological authority positivism had traditionally endowed it with. 3.2

Two Presidential Addresses

Some of those who pointed out the sheer impossibility of a strictly neutral, objective and impartial analysis of social life were sociologists with firm reputations who were very much part of the sociological establishment.

46

D. HOUTMAN

Arguably most influential were articles by Alvin Gouldner (1962) and Howard Becker (1967), based on their respective presidential addresses at annual meetings of the Society for the Study of Social Problems . The fact that these voices came from within the sociological establishment itself may indeed explain why they became as influential as they did. In an article with a subtitle that leaves little to the intellectual imagination (‘The Myth of a Value-Free Sociology’) Gouldner (1962) portrays established sociological beliefs about value-free sociology as not much more than a self-serving ‘group myth’ (idem, 199), an ideology that serves personal and institutional professional interests and transforms critical intellectuals into docile professionals (idem, 206–207). The subtlety of Weber’s complex analysis, Gouldner maintains, has in the process degenerated into ‘a hollow catechism, a password, and a good excuse for no longer thinking seriously, […] the trivial token of professional respectability, the caste mark of the decorous, […] the gentleman’s promise that boats will not be rocked’ (idem, 201). Such moral and intellectual complacency, Gouldner observes, differs markedly from Weber’s account of the issue, which aimed to acknowledge the possibility and significance of science and rationality without sacrificing the autonomy of human moral intuitions. Weber’s aim was after all to protect both realms from succumbing to each other, to ‘adjudicate the tensions between […] reason and faith, between knowledge and feeling, between classicism and romanticism, between the head and the heart’ (idem, 212). Indeed, if we raise the question of how sociological knowledge is made—‘really made rather than as publicly reported’ (idem, 212)—, the role of the values of the sociologist in steering the process cannot and should not be denied, Gouldner observes with Weber: ‘To do otherwise is to usher in an era of spiritless technicians […] who will be useful only because they can be used’ (idem, 212). A few years later, in his own presidential address ‘Whose Side Are We On?’ for the same Society for the Study of Social Problems , Howard Becker takes up the same problem and agrees with Gouldner on the key issues. There is no way that sociology can be strictly neutral or objective: ‘[…] it is not possible and, therefore, […] the question is not whether we should take sides, since we inevitably will, but rather whose side we are on’ (Becker 1967, 239). This is so, because no such thing exists as what postmodernists, later on, would come to call a ‘God’s eye view’ or a ‘view from nowhere’: ‘We must always look at the matter from someone’s point of view’ (idem, 245). While sociological research is hence

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

47

always and inevitably one-sided and partial, Becker argues, charges of political bias against sociologists are not made indiscriminately. They are most likely in situations where a researcher studies a situation from the point of view of a subordinate group. This is because in these instances the sociologist fails to take for granted what Becker dubs the ‘hierarchy of credibility,’ a belief system that defines the points of view of subordinate groups (laymen rather than professionals, students rather than professors, patients rather than doctors) as less legitimate, less adequate and less informed than those of powerful superordinate groups: ‘As sociologists we provoke the charge of bias, in ourselves and others, by refusing to give credence and deference to an established status order, in which knowledge of truth and the right to be heard are not equally distributed’ (idem, 241–242). Although there are no compelling intellectual grounds to adopt the perspective favored by powerful social groups, then, ‘The sociologist who favors officialdom will be spared the accusation of bias’ (idem, 243). Becker’s point is basically identical to Weber’s, Mills’, and Gouldner’s: sociology cannot be a strictly neutral or objective endeavor, because intellectually arbitrary values and sympathies do inevitably steer the research process so as to make research one-sided and biased. None of these sociologists, then, believes that sociology can unearth the ‘real’ meaning of a situation. Sociology is by implication not capable either of authoritatively sorting competing truth claims by participants in social life into ‘valid’ and ‘invalid’ ones. As postmodern sociologist Zygmunt Bauman (1987) would put it twenty years later on: the sociologist cannot play the role of the ‘legislator’ who legislates ‘true’ and universally binding meaning, but only that of the ‘interpreter,’ who can show what the world looks like from the perspectives of others. The intellectual climate of the 1960s did not just bring arguments that directly critiqued sociological positivism to the center of sociological attention. Works that more indirectly reinforced intellectual discontents about positivism were equally favorably received and had a similarly huge impact. One example was Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann’s The Social Construction of Reality (1966), which argues that society is ultimately rooted in nothing ‘deeper’ or ‘more fundamental’ than people’s shared cultural understandings. Another example is Thomas Kuhn’s equally influential The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962), in which he applied a similar type of argument to science itself. The book popularized the notion that taken-for-granted and hardly empirically

48

D. HOUTMAN

testable ‘paradigms,’ sets of implicit and general assumptions about the world, play a major role in steering empirical research and in explaining what research findings do actually mean. Kuhn’s book moreover provided an understanding of scientific change in terms of ‘scientific revolutions’ that entailed paradigmatic shifts that were only indirectly informed by empirical research findings. Indeed, many a sociologist back in the 1960s interpreted the state of the discipline in precisely these terms, i.e., as an outbreak of a ‘scientific revolution’ that aimed to replace the positivist paradigm by one that relativized sociology’s epistemic authority (e.g., Friedrichs 1970). 3.3

Discontents About Positivist Sociology

Attempts at disenchanting sociology by critiquing and demolishing positivism plunged the discipline into a crisis that had already broken out by the time Alvin Gouldner had announced it in the book to which it owes its name, i.e., The Coming Crisis of Western Sociology (1970; see also Cole 2001). In his attempt to explain the intellectual conflicts in 1960s sociology, Gouldner follows the same logic as Weber and Mills before him, i.e., by pointing out the significance of a theory’s ‘infrastructure’ or ‘subtheory,’ which consists of untestable and morally charged assumptions that lie hidden in its metaphysical underbelly. Examples are beliefs about whether change is less or more normal than stability, whether society consists of an arena of competing groups or rather constitutes a more or less ordered system, whether society is basically a set of collectively shared definitions of the situation or rather consists of power relationships and inequality between social groups. While notions like these cannot be tested empirically, they do play a decisive role in both the selection of research problems and the acceptance and rejection of theories as valid or invalid, Gouldner holds. For decisions about the latter, he maintains, are not simply determined by a theory’s (in)congruence with the empirical findings, but rather by (in)congruence between the metaphysical assumptions that underlie a theory and those that are embraced by the sociologist who needs to assess the latter’s empirical validity. Gouldner here hence transforms the matter of ‘truth’ from a metaphysical into a pragmatic issue: accepting or rejecting sociological theories is not simply an issue of weighing the empirical evidence, but rather one of felt affinities with their underlying metaphysical infrastructure. Much like Weber and Mills before him, then, Gouldner points

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

49

out the significance of metaphysical ideas that remain implicit and hidden underneath, i.e., ideas that have unmistakably informed a sociological study, yet cannot be evaluated on strictly scientific grounds. ‘The “truth” of a theory,’ as he put it in a later work, ‘does not boil down to its reliability but also involves the nature of its selective perspective on the world’ (Gouldner 1973a, 427). Gouldner uses this theory to explain the intellectual discontents in sociology at the time, not least among its junior members. He does so by pointing out how the up until then dominant theoretical infrastructure of structural functionalism had become increasingly incompatible with the newly emerged moral and political climate. The functionalist emphasis on order, unity, and evolutionary change, Gouldner holds, had grown drastically out of tune with the new spirit of the times, carried by a young generation that demanded more freedom, more democracy, and more room for self-expression—less ‘system’ in short (see also Cole 1975). Indeed, in counter-cultural circles back then, ‘The System’ was singled out as the arch-enemy of humanity and democracy, and as basically the root of all evil (Houtman, Aupers and De Koster 2011, 1–24; Roeland, Aupers and Houtman 2012). According to Gouldner the incongruence between the newly emerged political climate and the theoretical infrastructure of the old theories constituted the principal cause of the intellectual malaise of the 1960s. This also explains the principal intellectual responses to the crisis, which consisted of an increased interest in conflict theories on the one hand and a shift toward non-positivist approaches that foregrounded the cultural imagination, attributions of meaning and (inter)subjectivity on the other. In a later work Gouldner (1973b) discusses the latter shift as one from a ‘Classicist’ to a ‘Romanticist’ sociological style. The Classicist style entails ‘the Objectivistic modernism of the Enlightenment’ which aims to ‘free reason from superstition’ (idem, 90) and to disclose or discover ‘abstracted universals’ (idem, 96), i.e., fundamental underlying principles that explain the workings of the social world. The Romanticist style, on the other hand, foregrounds the multifarious products of the human cultural imagination, understanding ‘man […] not merely as a creature that can discover the world, but also as one who can create new meanings and values, and can thus change himself and fundamentally transform his world, rather than unearth, recover, or “mirror” an essentially unchanging world order’ (idem, 88).

50

D. HOUTMAN

Social reality, this Romanticist style of sociology postulates, needs to be understood as the outcome of cultural processes of meaning-making by the participants in social life themselves (see also De la Fuente 2007). This Romanticism as such acknowledges that meaning can never be any more ‘real’ or ‘grounded’ than what human beings make of it.

Sociology After the Crisis

4 4.1

The Cultural Turn in Sociology

Such Romanticism has since the 1960s incited a cultural turn that has abandoned the quest for knowledge about a social reality that is allegedly ‘more profound’ than culture. This cultural turn started off as a critique of positivist understandings of social problems and deviant behavior (Cole 1975) and symbolic interactionists were among its first advocates. Howard Becker, already discussed above, is one influential example. Another is Herbert Blumer (1971, 298), who underscored that ‘social problems are fundamentally products of a process of collective definition instead of existing independently as a set of objective social arrangements with an intrinsic makeup.’ Their critiques of positivist notions of ‘social problems’ and ‘deviant behavior’ were soon elaborated by others, most notably Spector and Kitsuse (1977), who in their book Constructing Social Problems (1977) provided a well-informed critique of the positivist approach to social problems (see also Best 1995; Loseke 2003). Spector and Kitsuse (1977) explain the problems of the conventional positivist approach by means of a critical interrogation of Robert Merton’s observation that lay definitions of social problems do not necessarily coincide with those by professional sociologists. There are no difficulties as long as the two parties agree that social phenomena are either ‘normal social conditions’ or ‘manifest social problems,’ the latter defined as ‘objective social conditions identified by problem definers as at odds with social values’ (Merton 1971, 806). Problems emerge if the two parties disagree, however. For if professional sociologists identify social problems, while the participants in social life themselves do not, Merton identifies ‘latent social problems,’ i.e., ‘conditions also at odds with values current in society, but […] not generally recognized as being so’ (idem, 806). The other way around, if the relevant social actors discern a social problem, while the professional sociologist does not, Merton speaks of a ‘spurious’ social problem. ‘Spurious’ and ‘latent’ social problems do

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

51

as such refer to situations defined by sociologists as, respectively, ‘much ado about nothing’ and ‘no ado about something,’ which implies that in both cases ‘the sociologists’ definition, being based on objective evidence, takes precedence’ (Spector and Kitsuse 1977, 36; emphasis deleted, DH). Privileging scientific expertise and subordinating lay cultural understandings, the positivist approach to social problems hawked by Merton thus understands the identification of social problems as ultimately a technical issue. Spector and Kitsuse propose an alternative, constructivist approach that exclusively addresses how actors ‘code’ social conditions as morally unacceptable, and hence as social problems. In this approach, social problems are hence not so much identified with ‘social conditions’ but rather with ‘the activities of individuals or groups making assertions of grievances and claims with respect to some putative conditions’ (idem, 75). Their book quickly became ‘the touchstone for the new constructionist approach’ (Best 2002, 701) in the sociology of social problems, with students of social problems starting to acknowledge the blunt fact that ‘[…] there is no necessary relationship between the measurable characteristics of any given condition or the people in it and a definition of that conditions as troublesome’ (Loseke 2003, 9). Indeed, unlike positivist accounts of social problems, the new constructivist approach is capable of explaining why phenomena that used to be social problems in the past, later on, ceased to be treated as such, while the other way around phenomena that used to be accepted as mere ‘natural,’ ‘inevitable’ facts of life, later on, came to be understood as social problems. Beating misbehaving children as part of a strict upbringing, dismissing young working women as soon as they get married, and smoking in public transport are three obvious examples. Another is the circumstance that back in the 1950s homosexuality rather than homophobia tended to be seen as a social problem, while meanwhile the reverse has become the case.1 What has changed here is not ‘objective’ social conditions, but their cultural ‘coding’ as legitimate or not. Constructionism thus effectively pushes sociology from its epistemological throne, because it dismisses the notion that sociologists can ‘discover’ on strictly scientific grounds whether or not a state of affairs ‘really’ constitutes a social problem, i.e., whether there is ‘much ado about nothing’ or ‘no ado about something.’ In recent decades Jeffrey Alexander and colleagues at Yale University’s Center for Cultural Sociology (CCS) have also advocated a cultural turn in sociology, similarly aiming to liberate culture from its subaltern

52

D. HOUTMAN

status as a mere ‘side issue’ or ‘“soft”, not really independent variable.’ They thus discard the positivist notion that ‘explanatory power lies in the study of the “hard” variables of social structure, such that structured sets of meanings become superstructures and ideologies driven by these more “real” and tangible social forces’ (Alexander and Smith 2003, 13). In doing so they set their ‘strong program in cultural sociology’ decidedly apart from ‘weak programs’ in the sociological study of culture. The latter do not study culture as meaning in and of itself, but do rather endow meaning with meaning, which results in claims about ‘the meaning of meaning’ that are not unlike conspiracy theories (compare Harambam and Aupers, Chapter 8). This is done by interpreting culture by definitional fiat in terms of something else, typically as reflecting, justifying, sustaining, or challenging an allegedly ‘more profound’ social reality that consists of structures of power and inequality, in the process reducing culture to ‘the wagging tail of social power, as resistance to hegemony, disguised governmentality, organizational isomorphism, cultural capital, or symbolic politics’ (Alexander 2010, 283). Postmodern sociology, another much-discussed manifestation of sociology’s cultural turn, takes culture at once more and less seriously than most other cultural sociologists do. It takes it more seriously in that it explicitly conceives sociology itself as part and parcel of culture and sidesteps the issue of whether or not sociological research findings can be ‘true,’ however ‘lowercase t’ conceived. It instead conceives of the metaphysical assumptions that sociologists tacitly take on board while conducting research as performatively sustaining social structures of power and privilege. Postmodern sociologists do for instance critique scholarship about ‘immigrant integration’ for being informed by ‘conceptions of incompatibility between “the West” and “Islam” or “modernity” and “migrants”.’ Such ‘artificial separations’ are held to entail ‘a thoroughly neocolonial practice,’ ‘in its effects only slightly removed from the explicit racism of […] the (alt-)right’ (Schinkel 2018). Studies about ‘immigrant integration’ are as such not conceived as ‘neutrally’ and ‘objectively’ representing a social reality ‘out there,’ but rather as performatively sustaining, or even creating, the problem they pretend and assume to study. Postmodernists likewise understand gender inequality as performatively sustained by research informed by tacitly accepted cultural notions of what it means to be ‘a man’ or ‘a woman.’ Gender is thus transformed into a ‘simulacrum’ in the sense of Baudrillard (1976), ‘a copy without an original’ (Butler 1990). The aim of postmodern sociology,

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

53

then, is to unmask positivist pretensions of ‘mirroring’ or ‘reflecting’ social reality as in fact creating and sustaining cultural hegemony and inequality. Ultimately and paradoxically, its ambition of taking culture more seriously than most cultural sociologists do, thus reduces culture to social inequality after all, resulting in a ‘weak’ rather than a ‘strong’ program in the sociological study of culture. The postmodern conception of sociology as itself part and parcel of culture entails a massive relativizing of the discipline’s epistemic authority. The work of Steven Seidman (1994), postmodern social theorist and LGBT studies pundit alike, constitutes a case in point. Seidman argues that sociological truth claims have always and inevitably been infused with tacit moral understandings of the world and he refuses to construe this as a shortcoming. Rather to the contrary: such moral narratives about the world, he maintains, are—and always have been—the only valuable thing that sociology has to offer, so that driving them out will only bring the discipline closer to the point where it has nothing significant at all to say about the world anymore.2 Therefore, Seidman feels, sociologists should move in precisely the opposite direction. They should give up ‘the false promise of science to achieve objective and universal knowledge’ in favor of ‘our role as storytellers or social critics’ (idem, 3). According to Seidman the value of sociology does hence lie not in its scientific quest for unshakable ‘truths’ about society, but in telling moral stories about it—moral stories that cannot be defended on strictly scientific grounds, yet matter more than methodology, facts, and empirical proof. This obviously leaves professional sociologists without good arguments to claim the right to moral story-telling exclusively for themselves. Indeed, even more so than professional sociologists, Seidman understands new social movements like the women’s movement, the gay and lesbian movement, and the Black Lives Matter movement as ‘new subjects of knowledge’ that produce ‘new knowledges’ that critique ‘the dominant knowledges […] as reflecting the standpoint and interests of White Europeans, men, and heterosexuals’ (Seidman 1994, 235). Like the cultural turn in sociology generally, such a postmodern sociology disenchants the discipline by dismissing positivist pretensions of being able to ‘objectively’ and ‘neutrally’ represent social reality ‘as it really is.’ It critiques the dismal role of such pretensions of scienticity in consolidating and justifying the subordinate status of marginalized minority groups (defined in terms of class, gender, race, sexuality, or

54

D. HOUTMAN

whatever). Aiming to drive out politics masquerading as science, postmodern sociology accepts the entanglement of science and politics as inevitable and even desirable. This informs its self-understanding as a Sociology after the Crisis (Lemert 1995), i.e., a sociology that has discarded and overcome positivist binaries like those between ‘truth’ and ‘belief,’ ‘knowledge’ and ‘culture,’ ‘expert sociologist’ and ‘layperson.’ 4.2

Shallowness and Profundity in Contemporary Sociology

The cultural turn in sociology is of course not uncontested. It evokes conflicts about shallowness and profundity between those who identify with it and those who do not. Critics of constructivism like environmental sociologists Riley Dunlap and William Catton, for instance, critique constructivists for ‘treating global environmental change […] as a social construction.’ Doing so, they maintain, entails a failure to address the ‘real’ problems, i.e., ‘the social causes, consequences and amelioration of global environmental problems,’ which ‘seems particularly unwise in the case of global environmental change’ (quoted by Burningham and Cooper 1999, 300, who defend constructivism against these admonitions). Sociological students of culture do in their turn obviously dismiss the implied notion of culture as shallow and insignificant. Jeffrey Alexander, for instance, seeks inspiration from Durkheim’s The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (1965 [1912]), which understands societies, ‘primitive’ and modern alike, as constructing meaning on the basis of binary cultural distinctions between the sacred and the profane (both understood more generally than in the conventional, strictly religious sense).3 In Alexander’s hands this results in a sociology that focuses on the cultural binaries that set the sacred apart from the profane, with the participants in social life themselves being typically unaware of their culturally constructed status. Cultural sociology thus becomes ‘a kind of social psychoanalysis’ that aims ‘to bring the unconscious cultural structures that regulate society into the light of the mind,’ ‘to reveal to men and women the myths that think them so that they can make new myths in turn’ (2003, 3–4). To argue for the profundity of the cultural realm, other cultural sociologists do rather seek inspiration from Weber’s classical cultural sociology (e.g., Campbell 1987; 2007), which like Durkheim’s (1965 [1912]) coincides largely with his sociology of religion (Weber 1963 [1922]). Treating culture as something the participants in social life can

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

55

be reflexively conscious about, they rather foreground actors’ conscious motives, the meaningful actions these give rise to, and the opportunities for ‘verstehen’ this provides, thus dismissing positivist ‘explanations’ of ‘behavior’ as shallow and superficial. This Weberian approach has for instance been mobilized to critique the claim that Western countries have witnessed a decline in ‘class voting’ since World War II. For this claim is informed by shallow research that merely documents a declining trend in the relationship between class and voting behavior without even studying why people vote for the parties they vote for in the first place (Houtman 2003, 103–120; Houtman, Achterberg and Derks 2008; Houtman and Achterberg 2016). Indeed, if voting motives are taken into account, it becomes clear that no such thing as a decline in class voting has even occurred. For the economically underprivileged (‘the working class’) have remained as motivated as ever to vote for leftist parties to effectuate economic redistribution between classes and the declining relationship between class and voting does in fact stem from something else, namely a massive proliferation of ‘cultural voting’ that plays out in the reverse direction. Such cultural voting entails rightist voting by those without much ‘cultural capital’ (Bourdieu 1984), motivated by disrespect for cultural diversity and a longing to protect social order. Due to the neglect of voting motives this proliferation of cultural politics has however been systematically misinterpreted as a decline in class voting. Relationships between class and voting, in other words, do not even represent class voting in the first place. They do instead represent the net balance of class voting and reverse cultural voting. The claim of the decline of class voting has as such been built on the quicksand of shallow research, because a declining relationship between class and voting means basically nothing. It can even occur if class voting has increased rather than decreased, namely if reverse cultural voting has increased even more (Houtman 2003, 103– 120; Houtman, Achterberg and Derks 2008; Houtman and Achterberg 2016). Sociologists of positivist persuasion express similar concerns about shallow articles with eyebrow-raising titles like ‘Effects of A, B, and C on D,’ ‘How Do A and B Affect C?,’ ‘A: The Effects of B and C,’ or a variation on this theme. To mask that the emperor is naked many of these articles carry pompous subtitles that invoke large datasets or advanced statistical methods. Remaining strictly limited to the registration of statistical relationships between variables, with theoretically informed

56

D. HOUTMAN

explanatory mechanisms at best invoked (often not even that) rather than actually studied, such research makes no contribution whatsoever to theory testing and remains without sociological-theoretical implications. Its shallowness is nowadays mocked by fake articles with titles such as ‘Determinants of Age in Europe: A Pooled Multilevel Nested Hierarchical Time-Series Cross-Sectional Model’ (Bezimeni 2011) and references to imaginary articles with titles like ‘Individual and Contextual Effects of Variables on Other Variables in 278 Countries: Multilevel Multinomial Logistic Modelling by Means of the New BULLSHIT Software’ (Houtman 2009, 526).4 In response to such shallow research critics have argued for the need of a ‘mechanism-based explanatory strategy [which] differs in important respects from the explanatory principles used in mainstream sociology, where the emphasis rather is on statistical associations’ (Hedström and Bearman 2011, 5–6). This plea echoes Robert Merton’s classical road map for an explanatory sociology that aims to systematically test sociological theories by means of ‘directed’ research: ‘The notion of directed research implies that […] empirical inquiry is so organized that if and when empirical uniformities are discovered, they have direct consequences for a theoretic system. In so far as the research is directed, the rationale of findings is set forth before the findings are obtained’ (1968, 149– 150). A positivist understanding of sociology does as such make much of the distinction between ‘sociological theory’ and ‘an isolated proposition summarizing observed uniformities of relationships between two or more variables’ (idem, 66). For from a theoretical point of view the latter are merely data that invite sociological-theoretical explanation. Such ‘empirical generalizations’ (idem, 66) do not answer sociological questions, but merely raise them, which is precisely why a statistical explanation should not be confused with a sociological-theoretical explanation. What Merton argued half a century ago, in short, was that a scientific sociology worth its salt requires more than documenting relationships between variables, because the latter do not provide any sociologicaltheoretical insight into underlying explanatory mechanisms.5 That his classical plea is meanwhile back on the table demonstrates that sociology’s disenchantment has not wiped out positivist dreams of a sociology that uncovers what things ‘really’ mean. It also illustrates, however, that disenchantment has not only incited a cultural turn, but has sparked conflicts about shallowness and profundity beyond the sociological study of culture, too.

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

57

5 Conclusion: How the Queen of the Sciences Lost Her Throne Sociologists have typically understood disenchantment as eroding the authority of religion, but the process has also robbed their own discipline of much of its former authority. Cultural sociologists, postmodern sociologists, and quite a few researchers within the discipline’s quantitative mainstream have all abandoned the scientific quest for non-cultural social mechanisms that reveal the ‘real’ meaning of social phenomena. Ambitions of disenchanting their discipline can as such be found among both humanities-minded (cultural and postmodern) and science-minded (statistics-and-data-driven) sociologists, informed by a shared understanding that ‘the world’s processes […] simply “are” and “happen” but no longer signify anything,’ as Weber has succinctly defined disenchantment (1978 [1921/22], 506). To the extent that their contrasting disenchantment strategies have driven the two groups further apart, disenchantment has deepened the gap that sociology once promised to bridge: the one between the humanities and the sciences (Lepenies 1988). Yet, critics have portrayed Weber’s theory about disenchantment as not much more than a modern myth, ‘the myth-of-the-end-of-myth’ (Josephson-Storm 2017, 19). In making this argument they invoke the persistence of esotericism, a tradition that has been present in the West since the Renaissance, that dismisses the disconnection of religion and science, and that as such ‘came into being as an attempt to repair the rupture between religion and science’ (idem, 15). Pointing out esotericism’s persistent appeal in the West, not least in intellectual circles, it is then concluded that ‘we have never been disenchanted’ and that ‘the tale of disenchantment – of magic’s exit from the henceforth law-governed world – […] is wrong’ (idem, 3; see also Asprem 2014). Under the banner of ‘spirituality’ esotericism has indeed increasingly permeated the western cultural mainstream in the past half-decade (Hanegraaff 1996; Heelas and Woodhead 2005; Houtman and Mascini 2002; Tromp, Pless and Houtman 2020). It dismisses religious faith and scientific reason alike, embraces personal experience as an alternative epistemology, and understands the sacred as a spirit or life force immanently present in the world (Hanegraaff 1996). Such esotericism was already massively present in Germany in Weber’s days, not least in his own intellectual circles, which led him to dismiss it in the crassest of terms as

58

D. HOUTMAN

‘weakness’ (Weber 1948 [1919], 149), ‘humbug,’ and ‘self-deception’ (idem, 154–155; also see Houtman and Aupers 2010, 1–3). The Achilles’ heel of Weber’s account of disenchantment does indeed lie in its intertwinement of normative, logical, and empirical analysis (Asprem 2014, 39). Yet, it is a bit odd to invoke the persistence (or even proliferation) of esotericism in the twentieth century as ‘proof’ that Weber’s theory of disenchantment is a mere ‘myth.’ For if social reality is ultimately a web of myths in and of itself, as cultural sociologists take it to be, then it is indeed up to them ‘to reveal to men and women the myths that think them’ (Alexander 2003, 3–4), with the relevant question no longer being ‘how to demystify culture,’ but rather ‘how culture allows contemporary actors continually to remystify their social worlds’ (Sherwood, Smith and Alexander 1993, 375). The question is as such not whether or not disenchantment is a ‘myth,’ but rather how it despite itself provides meaning. This is precisely what I have studied in this chapter for the field of sociology, and more specifically the sociological study of culture. I have demonstrated sociologists’ increased skepticism about the positivist pretension that sociology can demonstrate what things ‘really’ mean by uncovering a social reality that is ‘more profound’ than the ‘myths’ people live by. This has led sociologists to relativize the authority of their discipline, in effect pushing ‘the queen of the sciences’ from her throne. Far from asserting sociology’s epistemic superiority over religion and politics, then, those concerned have maneuvered their discipline into a position that is much more modest than the one positivism has traditionally claimed for it. Conceiving of sociology as surely radically different from religion and politics, they no longer conceive it to be superior to the latter. Since the second half of the twentieth century, in other words, sociological ambitions of disenchanting sociology have brought the discipline into the position that secularization theory defines as the final destination of religion: that of a mere ‘sub-system’ alongside others, no longer capable of submitting the rest of society to its authority.

Notes 1. This is of course not to suggest that either this labelling of homosexuality in the 1950s or that of homophobia today has ever been uncontested. Given conditions of moral, religious, and political pluralism back then as well as

2

2.

3.

4.

5.

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

59

today, conflicts about the definition of social problems are inevitable from a cultural-sociological point of view. One may indeed wonder why precisely Marx, Weber, and Durkheim have become sociology’s three founding fathers. Could this be because each of their sociologies resonates with one of the three modern political ideologies? The fit is obviously imperfect, but it does not seem far-fetched to maintain that the fate of the dispossessed working class in modern capitalist society is the principal concern of Marx and socialism alike; that the fate of the individual in a rationalized and bureaucratized modern society is the principal concern of Weber and liberalism alike; and that the fate of community in modern industrial society is the principal concern of Durkheim and conservatism alike. The appeal of sociology’s three founding fathers may as such indeed be not so much attributable to their research findings, but rather to their more general and morally charged narratives about modernity. Needless to say, the late cultural-sociological and anthropological Durkheim differs profoundly from his early, positivist counterpart, as traditionally foregrounded in introductory sociology textbooks—the Durkheim of the division of labor (1964 [1893]), of the rules of sociological method (1964 [1895]), and of suicide rates (1951 [1897]). The first paper has been published by the journal European Political Science, with the ‘About the author’ note pointing out that ‘Uchen Bezimeni […] currently works on developing optimization methods for publishing in situations of data abundance and absence of original ideas.’ The second paper has not actually been published. Back in 2009 it was mockingly listed as ‘work in progress’ on the website of a colleague and subsequently cited by the author of this chapter in a critical article about the state of sociology in the Netherlands (Houtman 2009). Just consider why later generations of sociologists have bestowed an exemplary status upon Durkheim’s analysis of egoistic suicide (1964 [1893]). This is not because Durkheim had ‘discovered’ that suicide rates were higher in Protestant areas than in Catholic ones, because that had already been observed by others. Durkheim’s analysis owes its exemplary status to the fact that he brought forward (and tested as well as he could) a new and explicitly sociological theory to account for this already established empirical regularity.

References Alexander, Jeffrey C. 2003. “Introduction—The Meanings of (Social) Life: On the Origins of Cultural Sociology.” In The Meanings of Social Life: A Cultural Sociology, by Jeffrey C. Alexander, 3–9. New York: Oxford University Press.

60

D. HOUTMAN

Alexander, Jeffrey C. 2010. The Performance of Politics: Obama’s Victory and the Democratic Struggle for Power. New York: Oxford University Press. Alexander, Jeffrey C., and Philip Smith. 2003. “The Strong Program in Cultural Sociology: Elements of a Structural Hermeneutics.” In The Meanings of Social Life: A Cultural Sociology, by Jeffrey C. Alexander, 11–26. New York: Oxford University Press. Asprem, Egil. 2014. The Problem of Disenchantment: Scientific Naturalism and Esoteric Discourse (1900–1939). Leiden: Brill. Baudrillard, Jean. 1976. Symbolic Exchange and Death. London: Sage. Bauman, Zygmunt. 1987. Legislators and Interpreters: On Modernity, PostModernity and Intellectuals. Cambridge: Polity Press. Becker, Howard S. 1967. “Whose Side Are We On?” Social Problems 14 (Winter): 239–48. Bendix, Reinhard. 1960. Max Weber: An Intellectual Portrait. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Berger, Peter L. 1967. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociology of Religion. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Berger, Peter L., and Thomas Luckmann. 1966. The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Best, Joel (ed.). 1995. Images of Issues: Typifying Contemporary Social Problems, 2nd ed. New York: Aldine De Gruyter. Best, Joel. 2002. “Constructing the Sociology of Social Problems: Spector and Kitsuse Twenty-Five Years Later.” Sociological Forum 17 (4): 699–706. Bezimeni, Uchen. 2011. “Determinants of Age in Europe: A Pooled Multilevel Nested Hierarchical Time-Series Cross-Sectional Model.” European Political Science 10: 86–91. Blumer, Herbert. 1971. “Social Problems as Collective Behavior.” Social Problems 18 (3): 298–306. Bourdieu, Pierre. 1984. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Burningham, Kate, and Geoff Cooper. 1999. “Being Constructive: Social Constructionism and the Environment.” Sociology 33 (2): 297–316. Butler, Judith. 1990. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. London: Routledge. Campbell, Colin. 1987. The Romantic Ethic and the Spirit of Modern Consumerism. Oxford: Blackwell. Campbell, Colin. 2007. The Easternization of the West: A Thematic Account of Cultural Change in the Modern Era. Boulder, CO: Paradigm. Cole, Stephen. 1975. “The Growth of Scientific Knowledge: Theories of Deviance as a Case Study.” In The Idea of Social Structure: Papers in Honor of Robert K. Merton, edited by Lewis A. Coser, 175–220. New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich.

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

61

Cole, Stephen, ed. 2001. What’s Wrong with Sociology? New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers. De la Fuente, Eduardo. 2007. “The Place of Culture in Sociology: Romanticism and Debates about the ‘Cultural Turn’.” Journal of Sociology 43 (2): 115–30. Durkheim, Emile. 1951 [1897]). Suicide: A Study in Sociology. New York: Free Press. Durkheim, Emile. 1964 [1893]). The Division of Labor in Society. New York: Free Press. Durkheim, Emile. 1964 [1895]. The Rules of Sociological Method. New York: Free Press. Durkheim, Emile. 1965 [1912]). The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. New York: Free Press. Friedrichs, Robert W. 1970. A Sociology of Sociology. New York: Free Press. Goudsblom, Johan. 1980. Nihilism and Culture. Totowa, NJ: Rowman and Littlefield. Gouldner, Alvin W. 1962. “Anti-Minotaur: The Myth of a Value-Free Sociology.” Social Problems 9 (Winter): 199–213. Gouldner, Alvin W. 1970. The Coming Crisis of Western Sociology. London: Heinemann. Gouldner, Alvin W. 1973a. For Sociology: Renewal and Critique in Sociology Today. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Gouldner, Alvin W. 1973b. “Romanticism and Classicism: Deep Structures in Social Science.” Diogenes 21 (82): 88–107. Hanegraaff, Wouter J. 1996. New Age Religion and Western Culture: Esotericism in the Mirror of Secular Thought. Leiden: Brill. Hedström, Peter, and Peter Bearman. 2011. The Oxford Handbook of Analytical Sociology. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Heelas, Paul, and Linda Woodhead. 2005. The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion Is Giving Way to Spirituality. Oxford: Blackwell. Houtman, Dick. 2003. Class and Politics in Contemporary Social Science: ‘Marxism Lite’ and Its Blind Spot for Culture. New York: Aldine de Gruyter. Houtman, Dick. 2009. “Een halve eeuw na Moderne Sociologie (1959): J.A.A. van Doorn is dood en de sociologie voelt zich niet zo lekker [Half a Century after Moderne Sociologie (1959): J.A.A. van Doorn is Dead and Sociology Does Not Feel Very Well].” Sociologie 5 (4): 521–39. Houtman, Dick, and Peter Achterberg. 2016. “Quantitative Analysis in Cultural Sociology: Why It Should Be Done, How It Can Be Done.” In Sage Handbook of Cultural Sociology, edited by David Inglis and Anna-Mari Almila, 225–36. London: Sage. Houtman, Dick, Peter Achterberg, and Anton Derks. 2008. Farewell to the Leftist Working Class. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction.

62

D. HOUTMAN

Houtman, Dick, Stef Aupers, and Willem de Koster. 2011. Paradoxes of Individualization: Social Control and Social Conflict in Contemporary Modernity. Aldershot: Ashgate. Houtman, Dick, and Peter Mascini. 2002. “Why Do Churches Become Empty, While New Age Grows? Secularization and Religious Change in the Netherlands.” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 41 (3): 455–73. Josephson-Storm, Jason A. 2017. The Myth of Disenchantment: Magic, Modernity, and the Birth of the Human Sciences. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Kuhn, Thomas S. 1962. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Lemert, Charles. 1995. Sociology After the Crisis. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Lepenies, Wolf. 1988. Between Literature and Science: The Rise of Sociology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Loseke, Donileen R. 2003. Thinking About Social Problems: An Introduction to Constructionist Perspectives, 2nd ed. New York: Aldine de Gruyter. Merton, Robert K. 1968. Social Theory and Social Structure, Enlarged ed. New York: Free Press. Merton, Robert K. 1971. “Social Problems and Sociological Theory.” In Contemporary Social Problems: An Introduction to the Sociology of Deviant Behavior and Social Disorganization, edited by Robert K. Merton and Robert A. Nisbet, 793–846. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World. Mills, C. Wright. 1943. “The Professional Ideology of the Social Pathologists.” American Journal of Sociology 49 (2): 165–80. Mills, C.Wright. 1959. The Sociological Imagination. New York: Oxford University Press. Roeland, Johan, Stef Aupers, and Dick Houtman. 2012. “Fantasy, Conspiracy and the Romantic Legacy: Max Weber and the Spirit of Contemporary Popular Culture.” In Handbook of Hyper-Real Religions, edited by Adam Possamai, 401–22. Leiden: Brill. Schinkel, Willem. 2018. “Against ‘Immigrant Integration’: For an End to Neocolonial Knowledge Production.” Comparative Migration Studies 6 (article number: 31). https://doi.org/10.1186/s40878-018-0095-1. Seidman, Steven. 1994. Contested Knowledge: Social Theory in the Postmodern Era. Cambridge, MA: Blackwell. Sherwood, Steven Jay, Philip Smith, and Jeffrey C. Alexander. 1993. “The British are Coming… Again! The Hidden Agenda of ‘Cultural Studies’.” Contemporary Sociology 22 (3): 370–75. Spector, Malcolm, and John I. Kitsuse. 1977. Constructing Social Problems. Menlo Park, CA: Cummings. Tromp, Paul, Anna Pless, and Dick Houtman. 2020. “‘Believing without Belonging’ in Twenty European Countries (1981–2008): De-institutionalization of

2

THE DISENCHANTMENT OF THE WORLD AND THE AUTHORITY …

63

Christianity or Spiritualization of Religion?” Review of Religious Research 62 (4): 509–31. Weber, Max. 1948 [1919]. “Science as a Vocation.” In From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology. Translated and edited by Hans H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills, 129–56. London: Routledge. Weber, Max. 1949 [1904]. “‘Objectivity’ in Social Science and Social Policy.” In The Methodology of the Social Sciences, 49–112. New York: Free Press. Weber, Max. 1963 [1922]. The Sociology of Religion. Boston: Beacon Press. Weber, Max. 1978 [1904/05]. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. London: Allen & Unwin. Weber, Max. 1978 [1921/22]. Economy and Society: An Outline of Interpretive Sociology (Two Volumes), edited by Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Weber, Max. 2014 [1904]. Max Weber: Collected Methodological Writings. Translated and edited by Hans Henrik Bruun and Sam Whimster. New York: Routledge.

CHAPTER 3

Down the Rabbit Hole: Heterodox Science on the Internet Stef Aupers and Lars de Wildt

1

Introduction

In The Sacred Canopy (1967), Peter Berger developed the argument that the long-standing monopoly on truth, as held by the Christian Church in the West, was increasingly eroding under the influence of cultural pluralization. This ‘problem of plausibility,’ or even ‘crisis of credibility’ that emerged particularly during the 1960s, he argued, is caused by the fact that western people are increasingly exposed to alternative worldviews that compete with and impede on the orthodoxies of Christianity (Berger 1967, 127). From the cultural proliferation of scientific theories about evolution or neuroscience to Marxist ideologies and alternative, non-Christian forms of religion, a pluralistic society installs doubt about ‘The Truth’ and the powerful institutions, organizations, and experts that legislate it. Berger’s account can easily be extended to the contemporary ‘credibility crisis’ of modern science. For notwithstanding its public image as

S. Aupers (B) · L. de Wildt Institute for Media Studies, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_3

65

66

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

‘unified,’ ‘objective’ and ‘neutral,’ pushed by ‘the PR of science’ (Shapin 2008, 38), the authority of modern science has always been threatened by pluralism, open discussion, and debate. This occurred first of all within science itself. Internal debates about paradigms, theoretical approaches, scientific methods, as well as the scopes and boundaries of the various scientific disciplines, have often led to problems of legitimacy or ‘crisis,’ not least in the social sciences (see Houtman, Chapter 2; Laermans, Chapter 4). Ironically, pluralism and the reflexivity it invokes are as such part and parcel of the scientific habitus and praxis itself. For a main trait of modern science is its ‘organized skepticism’ (Merton 1973 [1942]), or as Giddens puts it: ‘Science depends, not on the inductive accumulation of proofs, but on the methodological principle of doubt’ (1991, 21). But the authority of modern science is not just put on the line by internal pluralism, debate, and conflict. Arguably at least as important is the fact that science is nowadays under attack from the outside by intellectual countermovements with alternative truth claims. Anti-vax campaigners, Flat Earthers, and advocates of Complementary and Alternative Medicine, for instance, are both cause and effect of widespread distrust vis-à-vis modern science—its core institutions and advocates. In a ‘post-truth’ society, an infectious disease expert at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia warns, ‘Science has become just another voice in the room. It has lost its platform. Now, you simply declare your own truth’ (quoted by Hoffman 2019). This competition between established science and alternative truth claims is in itself not new. Ever since the Enlightenment, scientific institutions have been involved in an ideological-political ‘border war’ (Haraway 2001 [1985], 29). To defend and legitimate their epistemic and cultural authority, modern scientists need to continuously draw distinct boundaries between ‘objective’ and ‘subjective’ knowledge; ‘rational’ and ‘irrational’ ways of thinking; ‘valid’ methods and ‘crippled’ methods; good science and ‘pseudoscience’; scientific experts and ‘obscure,’ ‘outlandish,’ or ‘dangerous quacks’ in a broader field of knowledge production. Established scientists are therefore relentlessly involved in a practice of ‘purification’: they erase and exclude ‘hybrids’ of ‘quasi-science’ from the scientific debate (Latour 1993 [1991]) and actively perform ‘boundary work’ to set established science apart from alternative intellectual activities (Gieryn 1983). Nowadays such ‘quasi-science’ flowers outside the ivory towers of established science more than ever and it poses a serious threat to the

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

67

latter’s authority and monopoly on truth. We argue in this chapter that the Internet plays a significant role in this, and we address the socio-cultural and technical conditions that have made it amenable to the proliferation of alternative science by amateur scientists. We discuss various empirical examples in the process, and focus on the Flat Earth Society as our strategic case study. Given its prominent presence on the Internet, its massive use of social media platforms, and the ways in which its members invest in the construction of alternative scientific theories, methods, and experiments to ‘prove’ their case that the earth is flat, we consider it a paradigm example of alternative amateur science online.

2 Heterodox Science: From Counter Culture to the Internet Historical studies convincingly show that ever since the Enlightenment, Western science has always been challenged by movements rooted in intellectual elites that countered its epistemic foundations, methodological rules, and truth claims (e.g., Asprem 2014; Hanegraaff 1997; Barkun 2013). From modern esotericism since the Renaissance (Hanegraaff 1997), mesmerism in the eighteenth century, modern theosophy in the nineteenth century (Hammer 2001), anthroposophy or parapsychology at the beginning of the twentieth century to quantum mysticism, holistic science and homeopathy at the end of it (Asprem 2014)—modern science has always been challenged by movements and ideas that deviated from scientific orthodoxy, yet considered themselves more ‘scientific’ than their established counterpart. Even disciplines in the natural sciences such as astrophysics, quantum physics, or chemistry have been reconfigured and re-interpreted, often with the aim of reconciling religion and science so as to bring about a new scientific worldview that offers an antidote to the modern ‘problem of disenchantment’ (Asprem 2014). Obviously, such alternative forms of science have in response typically been denounced as ‘pseudo-science.’ From a cultural-sociological point of view the latter however can better be labeled ‘heterodox science’ (Campbell 2002 [1972]), ‘rejected knowledge’ (Webb 1976), ‘popular knowledge’ (Birchall 2006), or ‘stigmatized knowledge’ (Barkun 2013), because these concepts better capture the active role of hegemonic modern science and its advocates in constructing its deviant, marginal status. ‘Stigmatized knowledge,’ Michael Barkun points out, entails ‘claims to truth that the claimants regard as verified despite the

68

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

marginalization of those claims by the institutions that conventionally distinguish between knowledge and error—universities, communities of scientific researchers, and the like’ (2013, 26). Notwithstanding such active forms of stigmatization, marginalization, or ‘boundary work’ (Gieryn 1983), heterodox science was vociferously present in the West in the 1960s and 1970s. Variegated manifestations of it became self-consciously unified back then in a counterculture of likeminded, young, highly educated people revolting against ‘technocratic’ society (Roszak 1969). Colin Campbell (2002 [1972], 14) characterizes its social organization as a ‘cultic milieu’ that dismisses ‘dominant cultural orthodoxies’ and ‘includes all deviant belief systems and their associated practices.’ While Campbell emphasizes the role of this cultic milieu as a cultural laboratory for experimenting with heterodox forms of religion, giving rise to movements like neo-paganism and New Age, he also points out its massive interest in heterodox science (idem, 17): Of course mystic religion itself could be regarded as scientifically unsupportable, but the true heresies are not so much religious beliefs but beliefs held to be ‘purely’ scientific which are repudiated by the spokesman of scientific orthodoxy: the flat-earthers or the flying saucerians, who hold that extra-terrestrial vehicles actually exist. Fully fledged scientific theories may also abound, notably concerning ‘ethers’, ‘emanations’, ‘fifth senses’, and astral planes, together with the many and varied interpretations of the nature of time and space.

The counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s, and this cultic milieu in particular, entailed a hotbed for the dissemination of interest in deviant, repressed or stigmatized knowledge and heterodox science (Barkun 2013). Its democratic spirit and its questioning of the hierarchical distinction between official/mainstream knowledge and alternative/countercultural knowledge can easily be recognized in contemporary groups distrusting modern science. While groups like The Flat Earth Society and the Anti-Vaccination Movement similarly dismiss the orthodoxies of science and the power exerted by scientific institutions, the social organization and cultural status of heterodox science has evolved over the last decades. ‘The cultic world,’ Campbell could still argue back in 1972, ‘is kept alive by the magazines, periodicals, books, pamphlets, lectures, demonstrations and informal meetings through which its beliefs and practices are discussed and disseminated’ (2002 [1972], 15). While media

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

69

thus already played an important role in the formation and sustenance of the cultic milieu back then, we argue in what follows that the Internet has meanwhile done much to democratize debates about heterodox science by opening them up to the public at large.

3 Democratization: A Digital Platform for Heterodox Science 3.1

Heterodox Science by/for the People

Unlike mass media that distribute information top-down, communicate from few to many and keep the public at the receiving end of the information flow, the Internet is in many respects a democratic medium. It provides an open platform for laypersons to express their concerns and opinions. Or as one participant of the Flat Earth Movement puts it: the Internet ‘is a brilliant opportunity to speak. We have been suppressed and censored by mainstream media. Alternative media is just a thing of beauty for me’ (in Jubilee 2019). This is not at all surprising if we look at the roots of the Internet in the (counter)cultural milieu in which it was imagined and designed. For it has been profoundly shaped by the so-called ‘hacker ethic’ with its notion that ‘information should be free’ and its emphasis on human liberty and social equality (Levy 1994), an ethic that was developed at MIT and that has dominated Silicon Valley from the 1970s onwards (e.g., Turner 2006; see also Simons, Chapter 7). Particularly in the early 1990s, designers, philosophers, politicians, and ICT-visionaries alike heralded and defended the democratic and emancipatory promises of the Internet. Indeed, Pariser has correctly observed that in the 1990s ‘an inevitable, irresistible revolution was just around the corner, one that would flatten society, unseat the elites, and usher in a kind of freewheeling global utopia’ (2011, 3). Well-known technooptimist Kevin Kelly (2006) imagined the Internet to be a universal ‘liquid library’ in which all novels, scientific monographs, and reports would be available for everyone. Countercultural spokesman and Internet pioneer John Perry Barlow wrote in ‘A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace’ in 1996: Governments of the Industrial World, you weary giants of flesh and steel, I come from Cyberspace, the new home of Mind. On behalf of the future, I ask you of the past to leave us alone. You are not welcome among us. You

70

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

have no sovereignty where we gather […] We are creating a world where anyone, anywhere may express his or her beliefs, no matter how singular, without fear of being coerced into silence or conformity. We will create a civilization of the Mind in Cyberspace. May it be more humane and fair than the world your governments have made before.

Although it is almost a truism that commercial tech companies like Amazon, Google, and Facebook colonized the Internet over the last decades, much remains of its democratic structure. Particularly its open, decentralized, and non-hierarchical features make it a public platform on which citizens can express themselves and scrutinize established institutions and authorities. Everyone with a computer and an Internet connection can nowadays gain access to any information—including the ‘stigmatized knowledge’ that is hardly made available by the mass media (Barkun 2013). Indeed, heterodox science flowers on the Internet, which is for that reason still often referred to as an ‘alternative medium.’ Virtually anyone can nowadays get access to revisionist ‘historical’ accounts about the lost city of Atlantis, the Templar Knights, the Holy Grail, or shape-shifting, reptilian aliens that visited the Earth and are still among us. Similarly, online channels and YouTube videos that critique the dualism of modern medicine and promote holistic healing, chakra readings, shamanistic vision trips, or Reiki can be visited free of charge. And with just one mouse click, anyone can enter highly critical forum discussions between laypersons about quantum physics, string theory or black holes, or watch apocalyptic videos about the future of Artificial Intelligence, biotechnology, nanotechnology, or transhumanism. Such heterodox scientific content covers knowledge claims and studies that are allegedly ‘forgotten,’ ‘superseded,’ ‘ignored,’ ‘rejected,’ or ‘suppressed’ and that are, indeed, typically stigmatized as ‘pseudo-science’ by established science (Barkun 2013, 26–27). The Internet does as such constitute an ‘alternative media ecology’ (Starbird 2017) that offers critical citizens not only an alternative to and escape from ‘official’ readings by scientists, journalists, and politicians, but also an opportunity to actively participate in the quest for the ‘real’ truth—the truth that either remains untold or is actively concealed. Whereas back in the 1960s and 1970s heterodox voices about the shortcomings of mainstream science tended to remain local and confined to the subculture of the cultic milieu, such voices have since then literally gained a public platform and a global audience on the Internet.

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

3.2

71

Doing ‘Your Own Research’ Online

The Internet, however, affords more than just open access to heterodox science and stigmatized knowledge. For while Internet users may of course choose to remain passive consumers, ‘lurkers,’ or ‘likers,’ the introduction of social media platforms like Facebook (2004), YouTube (2005), Twitter (2006), Instagram (2010), and TikTok (2017) also gives users the opportunity to publish, post, or broadcast their own User Generated Content. This newly emerged platformed context has basically transformed heterodox science into ‘open-source’ knowledge that can as such be reproduced, re-contextualized, re-mixed, shared, and modified at will. Internet users have indeed been portrayed as exemplifying a shift from passive consumers of information to (inter)active ‘prosumers’ (Ritzer and Jurgenson 2010) or ‘produsers’ (Bruns 2008) of information. Henry Jenkins refers to the resulting democratic culture on the Internet as a ‘participatory culture’ with ‘audiences, empowered by these new technologies […], demanding the right to participate within the culture’ (2006, 24). He argues optimistically that those concerned emancipate themselves from established institutions and actually start talking truth to power. In making these arguments he especially points out how the Internet increases civic engagement and creative opportunities, not least for artists, who are empowered by it to bypass the once omnipotent culture industry by making their art available online through YouTube or other channels, by seeking crowd funding for artistic projects, et cetera (Jenkins 2014, 35–36): Young people’s personal use of social media like blogs, networks and online platforms allows for collective action. This generation moves seamlessly between being socially and culturally active to being politically and civically engaged, applying skills they learned making fan vids or recording skateboarding stunts to capture and share what was happening at their local Occupy encampment.

Jenkins’ concept of ‘participatory culture’ can also easily be applied to knowledge production. Dissatisfied with established institutions that monopolize ‘truth finding’—i.e., universities, science, and journalism— groups of uneducated citizens now feel empowered by the Internet to appropriate alternative theories, develop new ideas and share them on social media platforms. Disturbing events like the attacks of 9/11, the crash of MH17 in the Ukraine, or the terrorist attacks in Paris and

72

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

London, motivate amateur researchers to track all corners of the Internet to find information allegedly unknown to, or deliberately withheld by, the authorities, to then further share and disseminate it online. Was 9/11 an ‘inside job’? Were the terrorist attacks in Paris and London staged? Were the terrorists actually actors? Were these in fact ‘false-flag operations’? Has the COVID-19 virus been produced by the Chinese government? Amateur scientists provide ‘proof’ for such claims by relying on ‘scientific’ reports or experiments that are contested by regular scientists. In countering findings from mainstream virology, for instance, amateur scientists delve into online documents about the genetic or protein sequences of the COVID-19 virus to make the case that it is in fact man-made (McDonald 2020). But official accounts are also publicly contested by and revised by means of empirical ‘evidence’ from less conventional sources, ranging from images and pictures to self-edited YouTube videos (Aupers 2020). The decentralized, democratic structure of the Internet does thus provide more than mere access to stigmatized knowledge or heterodox science. It provides individuals with opportunities to actively counter science by ‘doing their own research online’ or ‘Google the truth’—an advice that is often given by influencers and YouTubers. Ultimately, this adage to ‘find your own truth’ undermines the authority of established science and leads to epistemological anarchy. ‘What is true’ and ‘how to know what is true’ become open questions that invite debate and contestation by heterodox science. The Flat Earth Society, according to which the ‘global earth theory’ is not empirically verified and does not align with everyday experience either (the earth looks flat and it feels flat) is a paradigm example of this. Flat Earthers encourage citizens to be skeptical and critical and to trust their own senses. Do forces of gravity really exist? Or are they just illusions made up by scientists to support a ‘global earth conspiracy’? Flat Earthers legitimize their own truth claims by revising and/or remixing theories from the Bible, astronomy, philosophy, and other disciplines. They invest in all kinds of methods and experiments (from meticulous observations of the horizon to rocket launches) and base many of their claims on online research, controversial documents, and YouTube clips (Landrum, Olshansky and Richards 2019). Not surprisingly, these amateur scientists encounter strong resistance from the established scientific community. The documentary Flat Earthers vs Scientists: Can We Trust Science? (Jubilee 2019), which features three Flat Earthers and three astrophysicists discussing the issues at stake together,

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

73

provides a good illustration. In his defense of the trustworthiness of modern science, one of the three professional scientists comments: Ask yourself: What qualifies a YouTuber, a book author? […] What qualifies them to make wide-ranging comments about the shape of the earth? […] The problem is, the information from someone who decides to start a website or produce a YouTube video, is not reliable. When I have a tooth ache, I go to a dentist, when my car breaks down, I go to a mechanic. When you have questions about cosmology, you should go to an astrophysicist or physicist. You should go to people who spent years and years studying these ideas. Not some six minutes YouTube video.

What are the implications of an Internet-driven democratization of science, then? Participatory science may be democratic, inclusive, and emancipatory (as Jenkins would have it), but it simultaneously breeds epistemological insecurity and erodes the authority of institutionalized science and academic scientists to provide binding answers to questions like, ‘What is really true and what is not?’; ‘Which methods are valid to determine what is true and what is not?’; and ‘Who has the expertise and authority to answer questions like these?’. Cultural critic Andrew Keen argues in his book The Cult of the Amateur (2008, 44) that the erosion of the hierarchy between trained scientists and laypersons on the Internet evokes relentless and intellectually meaningless skepticism, doubt and relativism: Can a social worker in Des Moines really be considered credible in arguing with a trained physicist over string theory? Can we trust a religious fundamentalist to know more about the origins of mankind than a PhD in evolutionary biology? Unfortunately, the Web 2.0 revolution helps to foster such absurdities.

4 Socialization: Echo Chambers of Heterodox Science The democratic structure of the Internet enables individuals to ‘do their own research’ but the appropriation of knowledge is not just an individual activity. It is, instead, a deeply social, collective, and cultural practice. Anti-vax campaigners, ‘9/11 truthers’ and Flat Earthers are not solitarily seeking for the ‘real truth’ online, but share, disseminate, discuss, communicate, and consolidate their views with others on critical fora like 4Chan,

74

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

8Chan or Reddit; or via more mainstream platforms like Twitter, Facebook, or YouTube. The social consolidation of truth claims this provides, relates to yet another democratic feature of the Internet: it is not only an open, non-hierarchical space where individuals can express their beliefs but also a global social network that provides the opportunity to connect to like-minded people from other countries and to engage in dialogue with them. Online community formation was long considered the holy grail of techno-utopists like Stuart Brand, Kevin Kelly and Howard Rheingold, the ‘most quoted spokespeople for a countercultural vision of the Internet’ in the 1980s and 1990s (Turner 2006, 3). As ‘new communalists,’ they functioned as brokers between the nature-oriented hippie counterculture and the ‘emerging digital world’ of Silicon Valley (idem, 3) and in 1985 they founded the famous Whole Earth Lectronic Link, a small, local network of connected computers that is considered the first ‘virtual community.’ The latter has as such become the blueprint for Internet communities, including platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Virtual communities, Howard Rheingold (1993, 5) argued optimistically about 25 years ago, are ‘social aggregations that emerge from the Net when enough people carry on those public discussions long enough.’ The actual bottom-up formation of such groups in online environments was initially understood as confirming the status of the Internet as a democratic medium. In line with optimistic ideas about a public conversation about the truth, as famously proposed by Jürgen Habermas, the Internet was back then often considered a ‘third space’ beyond the invasive realms of state and capitalism on the one hand and isolated private lives on the other. Indeed, like the agora in ancient Greece or the coffee houses of eighteenth-century Europe, the Internet was considered a place where all people could participate, debate, and reflect on virtual platforms (Turner 2006). It is however debatable whether the current situation corresponds to this overly utopian-democratic perspective on online community formation. Anti-vax campaigners, 9/11 truthers and Flat Earthers can nowadays in principle indeed freely express their ideas and engage in critical discussion, yet in practice their virtual communities tend to consist of like-minded people. They in effect create strong divisions between Us and Them; between orthodox and heterodox science; between ‘normies’ who trust science and ‘critical thinkers’ who debunk it. Instead of boasting an open dialogue, then, virtual communities have increasingly become

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

75

social ‘echo chambers’ that bolster and consolidate pre-existing truth claims (e.g., Barberá et al. 2015). Contradicting scientific ideals of ‘organized skepticism’ (Merton 1973 [1942]) such online ‘truth’ communities provide social consolidation for the in-group and breed hostility toward the imagined other of modern science. How can this tendency to flock together with like-minded others online be explained? First of all, it is a mainstay in social psychology that people have a ‘confirmation bias,’ with pre-existing worldviews determining what information they (do not) appropriate. Notwithstanding overly optimistic ideas about the communication of scientific facts, the ‘[i]nterpretation of scientific information, even when communicated clearly,’ is also ‘conditional on people’s values, beliefs and worldviews’ (Landrum, Olshansky and Richards 2019, 3; see also Part II of this volume). On the Internet, we can indeed observe individuals searching, selecting, and appropriating ‘scientific’ information that aligns with their pre-existing worldviews, and we can see them joining virtual communities that confirm these worldviews. Ironically, precisely this dynamic has often been highlighted as one of the ‘virtues of virtual communities’ (Miller 2011, 190): when one cannot find social confirmation in a local community or particular geographical area—or even if one feels repressed, marginalized, and stigmatized—there will always be a virtual community on the World Wide Web where one can find like-minded peers. This is precisely the main appeal of the Internet for those interested in heterodox science and critical of its orthodox counterpart. It is exemplified by Flat Earthers who refer to their online community as ‘a brilliant opportunity to speak’ and ‘a thing of beauty’ (Jubilee 2019). Such online communities do moreover also mobilize their members for offline events, conferences and activities. At the first international conference of the Flat Earth Society in 2017 in Raleigh, North Carolina, for instance, one of the participants made the following characteristic comment in a Vice News video (2017): The best part of being at this conference is that you can talk to somebody that will listen to you. When I talk to my mother, she doesn’t believe me. I can’t take that rejection. Coming here, you come to people who have done the same journey, who have come to the same conclusions and don’t want to live a lie.

76

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

Indeed, people confirm and strengthen their pre-existing truth claims in online science communities. In the case of the Flat Earth Society participants learn to formulate their latent discontents with science into manifest, elaborate, and fine-grained theories about the nature of the earth, gravity, and related issues. As self-proclaimed ‘globe busters’ they ultimately find social confirmation for their shared conviction that the scientific claim of the earth being a ‘spinning ball’ is, in fact, a ‘cosmic fairy-tale of astronomical proportions,’ a form of ‘pseudo-science’ and ‘the greatest cover-up of all times’ (Dubay 2014). While for members of the community such social confirmation entails a virtue, because it provides a strong sense of identity, community, and ‘belonging’ (e.g., Jenkins 2008 [1996]), it can also be considered a ‘vice’ (Miller 2011, 192) by others due to in-group cohesion going hand in hand with out-group hostility. The consolidation of alternative truth claims in effect deepens the divide between heterodox science and established science, resulting in a veritable ‘truth battle.’ For if amateur scientists attack established science, this triggers scientists to upgrade their ‘boundary work’ (Gieryn 1983) to a boundary war to defend their professional ideology, position, and status. Amateur scientists do indeed deconstruct scientists’ truth claims as intimately related to vested interests, money, and power. Or worse: there might be a deliberate plan—a vast conspiracy of scientists connected to mass media, the state, and the ‘power elite’ (Mills 1956). This is indeed precisely what the Flat Earth Society proposes: Wolves in sheep’s clothing have pulled the wool over our eyes […] Through pseudo-science books and programs, mass media and public education, universities and government propaganda, the world has been systematically brain-washed, slowly indoctrinated over centuries into the unquestioning belief of the greatest lie of all time. A multi-generational conspiracy has succeeded, in the minds of the masses, to pick up the fixed Earth, shape it into a ball, spin it in circles, and throw it around the Sun. (Dubay 2014)

Elaborate conspiracy theories like these, developed, debated, and confirmed in online communities, indicate radical distrust vis-à-vis established science and mainstream institutions. Other examples are theories about ‘Big Pharma,’ poisonous ‘chemtrails’ in the sky or the ‘real causes’

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

77

behind viruses such as AIDS, Ebola, the Swine Flu, or the COVID19 virus in China (e.g., Aupers 2012; Harambam and Aupers 2016; Knight 2000; Melley 2000). Medical specialists may explain such viruses as natural phenomena, but amateur scientists rather invest in conspiracy theories that unmask them as man-made inventions by scientists working for the government. The spread of the COVID-19 virus, for instance, is often deconstructed as biological warfare by the Chinese government, originating in a laboratory in Wuhan. Amateur scientists provide ‘proof’ for such claims by, among others, delving into documents about the genetic or protein sequences of the virus and, in doing so, revealing ‘HIV insertions’ (McDonald 2020). Likewise, they develop and consolidate theories about the logic of vaccination, understood as promoted by pharmaceutical companies to make more money or by governments to keep the population weak, in some instances even by injecting poisoned vaccines or nanotechnology to control the minds of citizens. Paradoxically, online conspiracy theories about vaccinations are brimming with references to ‘respected scientists’ and ‘scientific research,’ e.g., to an infamous article about an alleged connection between vaccinations and autism in the prestigious medical journal The Lancet (1998). It is indeed telling that the article’s retraction in 2010 has only added to its credibility in the eyes of conspiracy theorists (Stano 2020). Anti-scientific Internet memes (Shifman 2013) about vaccinations have been going viral ever since, communicating fierce messages like, ‘Why would my unvaccinated kids be a threat to your vaccinated kids, if you’re so sure that vaccines work?’; ‘Murder is not lawful, even if the person is wearing a white coat. Say NO to ALL vaccines!!!’; or pictures of a baby saying, ‘What makes me happy. My mom researched vaccines and said no’ (Stano 2020). In conclusion, in the open, non-hierarchical structure of the Internet amateur science is flowering, with theories being socially consolidated in virtual communities that have developed into veritable ‘echo chambers’ (Barberá et al. 2015). This, in turn, explains much of the ‘truth wars’ between amateur scientists and their established counterparts as well as the co-existence of incompatible truth claims, epistemologies, and methodologies. Indeed, all this confirms the skepticism that MIT researchers Van Alstyne and Brynjolfsson already voiced in 1996 about whether ‘electronic communities’ would really give rise to an open ‘global village’ or rather to polarized ‘cyberbalkanization’:

78

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

Individuals empowered to screen out material that does not conform to their existing preferences may form virtual cliques, insulate themselves from opposing points of view, and reinforce their biases. Internet users can seek out interactions with like-minded individuals who have similar values, and thus become less likely to trust important decisions to people whose values differ from their own.

In addition to the social consolidation of alternative truth claims in online echo chambers, however, there is yet another, technical element contributing to all this: algorithms embedded in social media environments.

5

Radicalization: Down the Rabbit Hole of Heterodox Science

Although the Internet facilitates freedom of expression and the formation of ‘echo chambers,’ it has become increasingly difficult to assert that it resembles the unstructured free zone envisioned in the 1990s. In the early days of Web 1.0, Manuel Castells could still claim that there was ‘no indisputable, clear authority over the Internet, either in the US or in the world—a sign of the free-wheeling characteristics of the new medium, both in technological and cultural terms’ (2000, 46). This changed during the 2000s with the rise of social media platforms designed and installed by commercial tech companies Google (1998), Facebook (2004), Youtube (2005), Twitter (2006), and Instagram (2010). For without neglecting the role of more marginal platforms like 4Chan, 8Chan, or Reddit, it can be argued that these large companies created the technological infrastructure for community building on the web. Indeed, online communities built around heterodox scientific theories are nowadays flowering on the digital platforms of Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Such communities are however not just socially consolidating the truth claims of amateur scientists: they also do so technically by means of invisible algorithms. This started with the launch of search machines at the end of the 1990s, with companies like Google aiming to help users find relevant information on the rapidly expanding Internet. Struggling with the difficult question, ‘What exactly is relevant information?’, Google initially opted for so-called ‘Page Rank algorithms,’ which show users the most frequently visited pages on the net. In 2009 it replaced these Page

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

79

Rank algorithms with self-learning algorithms that provide personalized information on the basis of personal use in the past (Pariser 2011). The implications of this change were far reaching, not least because Instagram, YouTube, Facebook and other digital platforms soon adopted similar personalized information policies. This led to a large-scale embedding of self-learning algorithms that track online behavior and personal preferences through cookies, web crawlers, or click stream analysis in almost all social media platforms. Instead of cutting a way through the incredible chaos of information on the web, such protocols make suggestions that align with user’s preferences, tastes, and beliefs. They also work the other way around, however: such self-learning algorithms leave out news, facts, and information that do not align with users’ pre-existing interests and preferences, even if they are perfectly ‘true,’ ‘valuable,’ or have scientific authority. The algorithms that nowadays filter Google searches and the newsfeeds of Facebook and other social media platforms, in short, are not in any way providing neutral information nor are they exposing users to a diversity of viewpoints. They rather feed users ideas and information they are already familiar with and do as such confirm their existing ideas, even if the latter are based on fringe science. If one is for instance interested in ‘stigmatized knowledge,’ as suggested by, e.g., past searches for information about 9/11, chemtrails, anti-vaccination theories or Flat Earth videos, these algorithms simply feed one more of the same. The Internet, from this perspective, has become a sort of verification machine, with Pariser (2011) arguing that individuals increasingly live in algorithmic ‘filter bubbles’ of information (e.g., Van Dijck 2013; Cheney-Lippold 2017; Lupton 2015). Whereas virtual communities do already socially confirm heterodox scientific theories, algorithms do as such constitute a major amplifying factor: they further reinforce the ideas and worldviews people already have. In re-enforcing pre-existing worldviews algorithms do potentially have radicalizing consequences. Whereas some algorithms are programmed to keep users in their ideological bubbles (i.e., these used by Facebook), other platforms, such as YouTube, do allegedly recommend sensational and ever more radical content to keep users watching as long as possible (Ribeiro et al. 2020). Notwithstanding user demands for agency, then, YouTube’s recommendation system is allegedly responsible for no less than 70 percent of the videos that people watch (Rodriguez 2019). Watching YouTube videos, in other words, is not merely informed by

80

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

either individual choices or social imperatives: under the motto, ‘If you like this, then you probably also like that,’ computational algorithms push toward exposure to ever more radical content. Guillaume Chaslot, a former software designer at Google, puts it as follows (quoted in Leprince-Ringuet 2019): Algorithms are built to boost watch time and that typically happens through viewing increasingly radical videos. […] Someone could be completely radicalized through viewing hours of YouTube videos on end—and from the perspective of the algorithm that’s actually jackpot.

Ribeiro et al. (2020) demonstrate how this logic of algorithmic confirmation and radicalization applies to YouTube users who systematically migrate over time from ‘milder communities’ (such as the Intellectual Dark Web) to the ‘alt-right.’ While academic studies do indeed typically apply these ideas to cases of Jihadism or far-right extremism, similar processes of YouTube-driven radicalization appear to apply to amateur science. Searching for scientific information about the effects of vaccinations can easily lead users to conspiracy videos about the ails of Big Pharma; searching for information about rocket science at NASA may guide them to videos about the ‘fake moon landing’ in 1969, or invoke recommendations of other clips about ‘why we cannot trust science.’ The ‘recommendation culture’ of social media thus further reinforces antiscientific worldviews that people latently or manifestly embrace. Users do, in other words, not simply search for and actually find YouTube videos that resonate with their worldviews. It is also the other way around: YouTube videos ‘find’ people through smart, self-learning, and recommendatory algorithms. As non-human ‘actants’ (Latour 2005) embedded in the social media platforms of Google and Facebook, they communicate with people, persuade them, strengthen their beliefs and ultimately even convert them. The case of the Flat Earth society is again instructive: ‘You Tube has been monumental in the Flat Earth movement […],’ because ‘the vast majority [of Flat Earthers] […] said that they had only come to believe the Earth was flat after watching videos about it on YouTube’ (Landrum,Olshansky and Richards 2019, 1). Notable videos are Flat Earth Clues (Sargent 2015), 200 Proofs the Earth Is Not a Spinning Ball (Dubay 2019b), and A Flat Earth Discussion: The Truth, the Facts, the Evidence (Dubay 2019a). Stories about ‘YouTube conversions’ provide

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

81

illustrations, like the one about a Flat Earther who claims that a popular YouTube video ‘woke him up to the movement,’ pointing out that ‘It came on autoplay, so I didn’t actively search for Flat Earth’ (Weil 2018). Indeed, Landrum and Olshansky (2019) demonstrate that YouTube conversion tends to be a gradual process: while watching other videos (e.g., on 9/11, Illuminati or chemtrails) users are introduced to the Flat Earth Society through YouTube’s recommendations in the side-bar of their screen. Watching these clips they then go, as the saying has it, ‘down the rabbit hole’ of a heterodox theory or even a more encompassing worldview—or, to put it in the terms of a popular emic concept derived from the classic movie The Matrix to describe the process of ‘waking up to the truth,’ they are ‘red pilling.’ Algorithms, in conclusion, contribute to the consolidation of heterodox truth claims and, perhaps, to the radicalization of amateur scientists. Flat Earthers, in many cases, have become immune to counterevidence and can hence be situated at the endpoint of a process of social and algorithmic socialization. Indeed, ‘Once you go Flat, You never go back!’ (Dubay 2019a).

6

Conclusion and Discussion

The massive distrust vis-à-vis established science can, in many ways, be understood from postmodern theory: we witness the end of the ‘grand narrative’ of science and its claim to provide objective, neutral and valuefree knowledge (Lyotard 1984 [1979]). More than that: citizens are now actively ‘deconstructing’ scientific facts as products of ideological interests, conflict, and power (e.g., Bauman 1987; Foucault 1970 [1966]). From a cultural-sociological perspective, however, this also generates a meaningful re-construction of science: people are now reflecting on what science is and what it should be and based on that they engage in alternatives that we conceptualized in this chapter as ‘heterodox science’ (Campbell 2002 [1972]) or ‘stigmatized knowledge’ (Barkun 2013). We demonstrated that these forms of knowledge—for long labeled as irrational ‘pseudo-science’ and pushed to the margins of western society— have quite literally gained a public platform on the Internet. From various revisionist accounts of history, multiple theories about manmade viruses, or speculations about the scientific ‘climate hoax’ or a flat and stationary earth—heterodox science flowers on the Internet and, ultimately, undermines the authority of established science.

82

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

We have distinguished multiple reasons for this flowering of heterodox science online. First of all, there is the open, non-hierarchical and decentralized structure of the Internet. The democratic dream of the early Internet pioneers in the 1990s that ‘cyberspace’ would make all information freely available to everyone, has meanwhile been realized—the mass embracement of heterodox science exemplifies this. Yet, this does not unambiguously entail a democratic emancipation of ‘the people’ (e.g., Jenkins 2006), because many do rather observe a nightmare of chaos, anarchy and anomie (e.g., Keen 2008). Be these normative issues as they may: it is clear that open access to knowledge on the Internet constitutes a driving force behind the de-legitimation of the authority of established science and the postmodernization of knowledge this entails. Particularly the ethos of ‘doing your own online research,’ ‘Googling the truth’ and, based on that, competition with trained scientific experts in various scientific disciples, exemplify and deepen today’s credibility crisis of science. This distrust, we showed in the second part of our analysis, is encouraged even further by the circumstance that the consumption and production of heterodox science online is not just an individual activity. On the one hand, virtual communities formed around topics like the Flat Earth and protest against vaccination function as ‘echo chambers’: contested truth claims are collectively shared, repetitively verified and socially consolidated. One the other hand, there is the technological infrastructure of the web: such claims are further reinforced by computational algorithms embedded in the social media platforms of Google, Facebook and YouTube. Algorithms strategically feed users insights they already have, or even lead them deeper ‘down the rabbit hole’ of fringe science. Although the influence of algorithms on radicalization is still hotly debated and contested in today’s literature (e.g., Ledwich and Zaitsev 2019), the role of commercial tech companies and online platforms in knowledge production has become hard to deny. It brings the Foucauldian knowledge-power nexus to the next level. With the installment of commercial platforms on the Internet—i.e., its ‘platformization’—neither information nor sociality is totally ‘free’ anymore. Notwithstanding their appropriations of countercultural discourse about ‘connectivity,’ ‘participation,’ and ‘freedom,’ companies like Google and Facebook provide the infrastructure of the Internet and do as such control, regulate and produce knowledge on their media platforms (Hoffmann, Proferes and Zimmer

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

83

2018; Van Dijck 2013). From their corporate perspectives and business models, even heterodox ‘fringe’ science of the type proliferating in YouTube videos and on Instagram and Facebook nowadays is profitable and hence worth stimulating. We can conclude, therefore, that the socio-technical structure of the Internet plays an important role in the democratization of heterodox science and the socialization and radicalization of those attracted to it (and vice versa of course: the Internet and social media platforms are culturally appropriated by citizens who distrust established science). The socio-cultural and technical mechanisms distinguished in our analysis may be fruitful for further research into the ‘deviant careers’ (Becker 1966) of amateur scientists on the Internet. Indeed, these mechanisms may entail ideal-typical steps in a trajectory of radicalization: first, individuals search for and appropriate heterodox ‘scientific’ theories that align with their worldviews; second, such theories are socially confirmed in online communities; and third, they are technologically consolidated through online algorithms. At the endpoint of this process, individuals find themselves caught in their information bubbles, segregated from counter-evidence. Such trajectories of radicalization are, of course, a far cry from the democratic ideals that were expressed about the Internet in the 1990s and 2000s. Indeed, our analysis exemplifies how and why free access to online information and debate has turned into epistemic anarchy, turning tolerant dialogue into fundamentalist truth wars, and open argumentation into algorithmic persuasion. Hardly surprisingly, then, most of the democratic-utopian imagination that inspired Internet pioneers in the 1990s and early 2000s has meanwhile faded away, in academic and public debates alike (Pariser 2011, 5): For a time, it seemed as if the Internet was going to entirely redemocratize society […] Democracy requires citizens to see things from one another’s point of view, but instead we’re more and more enclosed in our own bubbles. Democracy requires a reliance on shared facts; instead we’re being offered parallel but separate universes.

84

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

References Asprem, Egil. 2014. The Problem of Disenchantment: Scientific Naturalism and Esoteric Discourse 1900–1939. Leiden: Brill. Aupers, Stef. 2012. “‘Trust No One’: Modernization, Paranoia and Conspiracy Culture.” European Journal of Communication 26 (4): 22–34. Aupers, Stef. 2020. “Decoding Mass Media/Encoding Conspiracy Theories.” In Routledge Handbook of Conspiracy Theories, edited by Michael Butter and Peter Knight, 469–82. London: Routledge. Barberá, Pablo, John T. Jost, Jonathan Nagler, Joshua A. Tucker, and Richard Bonneau. 2015. “Tweeting from Left to Right: Is Online Political Communication More Than an Echo Chamber?” Psychological Science 26 (10): 1531–42. Barkun, Michael. 2013. A Culture of Conspiracy: Apocalyptic Visions in Contemporary America. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Barlow, John Perry. 1996. “A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace.” Accessed November 1, 2010. https://www.eff.org/nl/cyberspace-indepe ndence. Bauman, Zygmunt. 1987. Legislators and Interpreters: On Modernity, PostModernity, and Intellectuals. Cambridge: Polity. Becker, Howard. 1966. Outsiders: Studies in the Sociology of Deviance. London: Free Press. Berger, Peter L. 1967. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociology of Religion. New York: Doubleday. Birchall, Clare. 2006. Knowledge Goes Pop: From Conspiracy Theory to Gossip. Oxford: Berg. Bruns, Axel. 2008. Blogs, Wikipedia, Second Life and Beyond: From Production to Produsage. New York: Peter Lang. Campbell, Colin. 2002 [1972]. “The Cult, the Cultic Milieu and Secularization.” In The Cultic Milieu: Oppositional Subcultures in an Age of Globalization, edited by Jeffrey Kaplan and Heléne Lööw, 12–25. Walnut Creek: Altamira Press. Castells, Manuel. 2000 [1996]. The Information Age: Economy, Society and Culture (Volume I: The Rise of the Network Society). Malden, MA: Blackwell. Cheney-Lippold, John 2017. We Are Data: Algorithms and the Making of Our Digital Selves. New York: New York University Press. Dubay, Eric. 2014. The Flat-Earth Conspiracy. Morrisville, NC: Lulu.com. Dubay, Eric. 2019a. “A Flat Earth Discussion: The Truth, the Facts, the Evidence.” Accessed March 13, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v= qSkzLvJZ-34. Dubay, Eric. 2019b. “200 Proofs the Earth Is Not a Spinning Ball.” Accessed March 13, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MPjv_dxLAQ.

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

85

Foucault, Michel. 1970 [1966]. The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences. New York: Pantheon Books. Giddens, Anthony. 1991. Modernity and Self-Identity: Self and Society in the Late Modern Age. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Gieryn, Thomas F. 1983. “Boundary-Work and the Demarcation of Science from Non-science: Strains and Interests in Professional Ideologies of Scientists.” American Sociological Review 48 (6): 781–95. Hammer, Olav. 2001. Claiming Knowledge: Strategies of Epistemology from Theosophy to the New Age. Leiden: Brill. Hanegraaff, Wouter J. 1997. New Age Religion and Western Culture: Esotericism in the Mirror of Secular Thought. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. Harambam, Jaron, and Stef Aupers. 2016. “‘I Am Not a Conspiracy Theorist’: Relational Identifications in the Dutch Conspiracy Milieu.” Cultural Sociology 11 (1): 113–29. Haraway, Donna. 2001 [1985]. “A Manifesto for Cyborgs: Science, Technology, and Socialist Feminism in the 1980s.” In Reading Digital Culture, edited by David Trend, 28–37. Oxford: Blackwell. Hoffmann, Anna L., Nicholas Proferes, and Michael Zimmer. 2018. “‘Making the World More Open and Connected’: Mark Zuckerberg and the Discursive Construction of Facebook and Its Users.” New Media and Society 20 (1): 199–218. Hoffman, Jan. 2019. “How Anti-Vaccine Sentiment Took Hold in the United States.” New York Times, September 23. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/ 09/23/health/anti-vaccination-movement-us.html. Jenkins, Henry. 2006. Fans, Bloggers and Gamers: Exploring Participatory Culture. New York: New York University Press. Jenkins, Henry. 2014. “Participatory Culture: From Co-creating Brand Meaning to Changing the World.” Marketing Intelligence Review 6 (2): 34–9. Jenkins, Richard. 2008 [1996]. Social Identity. London: Routledge. Jubilee. 2019. “Flat Earthers vs Scientists: Can We Trust Science?” Accessed March 13, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7yvvq-9ytE. Keen, Andrew. 2008. The Cult of the Amateur: How Blogs, My Space, YouTube and the Rest of Today’s User-Generated Content Are Killing Our Culture and Economy. London: Nicholas Brealey Publishing. Kelly, Kevin. 2006. “Scan This Book!” New York Times Magazine, May 14. https://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/14/magazine/14publishing.html. Knight, Peter. 2000. Conspiracy Culture: From Kennedy to the X-Files. London: Routledge. Landrum, Asheley R., and Alex Olshansky. 2019. “2017 Flat Earth Conference Interviews.” Accessed March 13, 2020. https://osf.io/cw7re/.

86

S. AUPERS AND L.

DE

WILDT

Landrum, Asheley R., Alex Olshansky, and Othello Richards. 2019. “Differential Susceptibility to Misleading Flat Earth Arguments on YouTube.” Media Psychology. https://doi.org/10.1080/15213269.2019.1669461. Latour, Bruno. 1993 [1991]. We Have Never Been Modern. London: Prentice Hall. Latour, Bruno. 2005. Re-assembling the Social: An Introduction to ActorNetwork-Theory. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Ledwich, Mark, and Anna Zaitsev. 2019. “Algorithmic Extremism: Examining YouTube’s Rabbit Hole of Radicalization.” First Monday 25 (3). https://fir stmonday.org/ojs/index.php/fm/article/view/10419/9404. Leprince-Ringuet, Daphne. 2019. “Extreme Content? No, It’s Algorithms That Radicalize People.” ZD October 24, 2019. Accessed March 13, 2020. www.zdnet.com/article/ex-youtube-engineer-extreme-content-no-itsalgorithms-that-radicalize-people. Levy, Steven. 1994. Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution. New York, London: Penguin Books. Lupton, Deborah. 2015. Digital Sociology. London: Routledge. Lyotard, Jean-Francois. 1984 [1979]. The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. McDonald, Jessica. 2020. “Baseless Conspiracy Theories Claim New Coronavirus Was Bioengineered.” Accessed February 7, 2020. https://www.factch eck.org/2020/02/baseless-conspiracy-theories-claim-new-coronavirus-wasbioengineered/. Melley, Timothy. 2000. Empire of Conspiracy: The Culture of Paranoia in Postwar America. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Merton, Robert K. 1973 [1942]. “The Normative Structure of Science.” In The Sociology of Science: Theoretical and Empirical Investigations, edited by Robert K. Merton, 267–80. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Miller, Vincent. 2011. Understanding Digital Culture. Los Angeles: Sage. Mills, C. Wright. 1956. The Power Elite. New York: Oxford University Press. Pariser, Eli. 2011. The Filter Bubble: What the Internet Is Hiding from You. London: Penguin Books. Rheingold, Howard. 1993. The Virtual Community: Homesteading on the Electronic Frontier. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Ribeiro, Manoel Horta, Raphael Ottoni, Robert West, Virgílio A.F. Almeida, and Wagner Meira. 2020. “Auditing Radicalization Pathways on YouTube.” In Proceedings of the 2020 Conference on Fairness, Accountability and Transparency, edited by Mireille Hildebrandt, Carlos Castillo, Elisa Celis, Salvatore Ruggieri, Linnet Taylor, and Gabriela Zanfir-Fortuna, 131–41. New York: Association for Computing Machinery.

3

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: HETERODOX SCIENCE ON THE INTERNET

87

Ritzer, George, and Nathan Jurgenson. 2010. “Production, Consumption, Prosumption: The Nature of Capitalism in the Age of the Digital ‘Prosumer’.” Journal of Consumer Culture 10 (1): 13–36. Rodriguez, Adam. 2019. “The Making of a YouTube Radical.” New York Times, June 8. Roszak, Theodore. 1969. The Making of a Counter Culture: Reflections on the Technocratic Society and its Youthful Opposition. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Sargent, Mark. 2015. “Flat Earth Clues (Part 1).” Accessed March 13, 2020. www.flatearthclues.com/video_listing/flat-earth-clues-part-1/. Shapin, Steven. 2008. The Scientific Life: A Moral History of a Late Modern Vocation. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Shifman, Limor. 2013. Memes in Digital Culture. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Stano, Simone. 2020. “The Internet and the Spread of Conspiracy Content.” In Routledge Handbook of Conspiracy Theories, edited by Michael Butter and Peter Knight, 483–96. London: Routledge. Starbird, Kate. 2017. “Examining the Alternative Media Ecosystem through the Production of Alternative Narratives of Mass Shooting Events on Twitter.” In Proceedings of the Eleventh International Conference on Web and Social Media, edited by Onur Varol, Emilio Ferrara, Clayton Allen Davis, Filippo Menczer, and Alessandro Flammini, 230–9. Palo Alto, CA: AAAI Press. Turner, Fred. 2006. From Counterculture to Cyberculture: Stewart Brand, the Whole Earth Network, and the Rise of Digital Utopianism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Van Alstyne, Marshall, and Erik Brynjolfsson. 1996. “Electronic Communities: Global Village or Cyberbalkans?” Accessed March 13, 2020. https://www. semanticscholar.org/paper/Electronic-Communities-%3A-Global-Village-orAlstyne-Brynjolfsson/c2a7cd75dfbc52bfe045a1c0519a4c1c874e97cb. Van Dijck, José. 2013. The Culture of Connectivity: A Critical History of Social Media. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Vice News. 2017. “The First Flat Earth Conference Was Packed with People from around the Globe.” Accessed March 13, 2020. https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=4ylYvNnP1rg. Webb, James. 1976. The Occult Establishment. LaSalle I11: Open Court. Weil, Kelly. 2018. “Inside the Flat Earth Conference, Where the World’s Oldest Conspiracy Theory Is Hot Again.” Accessed March 13, 2020. https://www.thedailybeast.com/inside-the-flat-earth-conferencewhere-the-worlds-oldest-conspiracy-theory-is-hot-again.

CHAPTER 4

The Pluralization of Academia: Disentangling Artistic Research Rudi Laermans

1

Introduction

In 2002 Harry Collins and Robert Evans argued for the necessity of supplementing Science and Technology Studies (STS) with Studies of Expertise and Experience (SEE) so as to extend the field to the study of experiential knowledge. This is knowledge of the type studied by Brian Wynne (1996) in the context of the conflict between sheep farmers and scientific experts in Cumbria, UK. According to the experts the observed radioactive contamination in the area, which implied a major economic loss for the farmers, was caused by the nuclear accident in Chernobyl in 1986. Based on their own experiential knowledge, the farmers contested this interpretation, and later it appeared that the nearby Sellafield nuclear reprocessing complex was responsible for the contamination. Wynne’s study thus illustrates the potential conflict between expertise based on scientific knowledge and experiential knowledge.

R. Laermans (B) Faculty of Social Sciences, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_4

89

90

R. LAERMANS

Scientifically underpinned expertise often considers experiential knowledge to be insufficiently founded. The ‘scientific turn’ that characterizes modernity comes down to the replacement in many spheres of action of implicit knowledge intertwined with experience by explicit knowledge that combines concepts or theoretical models with methodologically collected empirical data. Individuals or groups who contest the judgments of scientific experts on the basis of their practice-related knowledge are therefore frequently called ‘irrational’ (Collins and Evans 2007). Many advocates of SEE and STS argue for a more balanced relationship, especially within the context of the ecological crisis: in ‘the parliament of things’ (Latour 1999) many voices need to be heard, without scientists having per definition the last word. Indeed, in dealing with ‘nature’ specialized experiential knowledge is considered legitimate because it encompasses dimensions that escape methodical or theoretical objectification. This evidently implies a relativization of the authority of science. Experiential expertise may claim in relevant contexts an epistemic legitimacy that differs from the expertise covered by scientific knowledge. One such context in which practical knowledge is already valued is the legal sphere. In her study of ‘expert games in silicone gel breast implant litigation,’ Sheila Jasanoff (2012, 196–216) shows that attorneys for the concerned parties seek to enhance or, on the contrary, to deconstruct the credibility of the invoked expert witnesses by strategically playing on the axes of objectivity and experience. She subsequently distinguishes besides non-expertise not two but three categories of expertise: the expertscientist, the expert-professional, and the expert-practitioner. Whereas the expert-scientist claims an impersonal authority backed by scientific methods, theories, and findings, the expert-professional invokes standards and a discourse not necessarily linked to science but generally accepted within an authorizing community of fellow practitioners. Like the nonexpert, the expert-practitioner relies on experience, yet moreover invokes acquired skills, the disciplined nature of the relevant experience, and its verbal coding. Jasanoff’s study teaches that judges attribute varying authority to these three forms of expertise during litigation and in their final verdicts, thus also showing that strict scientific expertise is not per definition the most authoritative one. The tension between different types of expertise and knowledge claims is not only observable outside Academia. Within the university scientific standards dominate, yet traditionally the importance of professional

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

91

expertise and knowledge is also recognized in, for example, literary and art studies or educational programs in architecture, applied economics or management, and law or accountancy. In contrast, the figure of the expert-practitioner has until recently remained out of the picture. This changed with the academization of the arts, which implied the upgrading of artistic curricula to a university degree and the normalization of the PhD in relation to artistic or creative practices (Lesage 2015).1 Expressions such as ‘artistic knowledge’ and ‘practice-based research’ have become standing phrases, with artists now claiming that they do not just make art but undertake research and contribute to the production and dissemination of knowledge through their artworks. The academization of the arts thus articulates in a specific way the challenging of the authority of science on the basis of experiential competences. Of course, not the societal value of non-scientific expertise but the academic recognition of practice-based knowledge and the legitimacy of concomitant research is at stake. Yet the principal issue remains the difference between the epistemic authority of science on the one hand and knowledge acquired through repeated practicing and built-up experience on the other. Within an academic context, this topic becomes even more potentially conflict-ridden than outside the walls of the university. Unlike the professional, the artist cannot even invoke generally shared standards or procedures and a disciplined discourse that has the form of, for example, an institutionalized professional jargon. While the older academic art (indeed a telling expression) was still based on binding rules of practice and the vraisemblance ideal of representation, modern artistic practices are highly diverse and personal. Modern art is indeed synonymous with increasing de-professionalization (Heinich 1993) and marked by subjectivity, which is also the basis of originality. Nathalie Heinich (1998) therefore speaks of a ‘regime of singularity’: singular artworks made by singular artists add something singular to an art world. It is precisely this shared expectation of singularity that stands in the way of a shared professional discourse and the accompanying regulatory set of rules to be applied. To an even lesser extent can the artistic ‘regime of singularity’ be reconciled with the scientific ideal of an anonymous, methodically acquired knowledge whose truth and objectivity are intrinsically linked to the replication of empirical research and the non-singular nature of concepts, theories, or models. The academization of the arts is thus anything but self-evident. Why can, for example, a series of drawings accompanied by the transcription of a number of reflections on the

92

R. LAERMANS

relationship between chance and the drawing process be called such a relevant contribution to knowledge that the artist concerned deserves a doctoral degree? Or is an affirmative answer more obvious when a choreographer intervenes with performances in a museum and then examines, albeit without much methodological rigor, which photographs of them are shared via social media? As far as I know, the authorization of practice-based knowledge and research through the academization of the arts has not elicited notable public opposition from staunch defenders of the epistemic ideals of science. One would have expected that in their view the institutionalization of the PhD in the Arts and of official support for artistic research by universities or national funding agencies endangers the sciences’ epistemological credibility within and outside academia. However, this point of view is hardly publicly voiced. On the contrary, the academization of the arts provoked resistance from artists who are of the opinion that art and science are ultimately incompatible. Indeed, a substantial number of arts practitioners and art schools, notably in countries like France and Germany, question the very idea that art can be research and generate knowledge or expertise. This negative stance considers the making of art as an intuitive, non-intellectual practice testifying of an unruly creativity and a personally motivated thirst for originality and self-expression. In the meantime, a still expanding literature on the relationships between art, knowledge and research has been produced by theorists and practitioners who are directly involved in the academization of the arts (e.g., Biggs and Büchler 2011; Borgdorff 2012; Elkins 2014d). In going through it, three points rapidly emerge. Firstly, the authors do not engage in a full-out conflict opposing art and science, practice-based and scientific knowledge. The authority of science and its corresponding truth claims is not contested, which is not that much surprising in the context of Academia. Secondly, the particularity of the arts is invoked to claim an epistemic status that differs from science: the arts can generate a solid practice-based knowledge that is deepened in artistic research. Thirdly, artistic research meets generic academic standards regarding, for example, the justification of the pursued research trajectory. In relation to the authority of science, these three arguments come down to the claim that the arts possess a distinct epistemic nature but do comply with the general academic standards that also frame the positive sciences and the social sciences as well as the humanities.

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

93

The just sketched discourse has been developed and brought to the fore by some of the most outspoken and cited proponents of artistic expertise and knowledge production within the UK, Western Europe, and Scandinavia. In what follows I explore how this leading or ‘master discourse’ is given flesh and bones. Which reasons are put forward to back the claim that the arts have a distinct epistemic status? How does this argument underpin the methodological legitimacy of artistic research practice, which is unavoidably experience- and practice-based? And which specific standards are invoked to justify the academic status of artistic knowledge and research? In answering these questions, I primarily relied on an in-depth reading of the texts and collections that are much cited and cross-referenced in the literature on the relationship between the arts, knowledge production, and research. My observations do not claim to be representative or conclusive. Nevertheless, I did try to balance the possible bias resulting from an overreliance on English-based literature by consulting a number of German sources.2 For that matter, there exists a wide array of terms in the relevant literature, particularly when it comes to the word ‘research’: practice-based or practice-led research, practice as research, studio research, artistic research, etcetera. This conceptual disagreement is reflected in differences in the official nomenclature regarding PhD’s.3 I opt for the notion of ‘artistic research’ since I focus on the legitimation of knowledge creation in the arts and will deliberately negate their counterparts in design and architecture because of the latter domains’ specificities (see Mottram 2014). I open with a brief sketch of the institutional context of the academization of the arts (Sect. 2) to then analyze the involved written discourse. In doing so, I focus on arguments about the specificity of artistic knowledge in light of the reigning scientific standards (Sect. 3) and its answers to the related question of what exactly research in the arts involves and how the methods used are related to scientific ones (Sect. 4). This makes clear that the ‘master discourse’ advocates generic academic (rather than strictly scientific) standards that as such legitimate artistic knowledge without disputing the authority of its scientific counterpart (Sect. 5). I subsequently summarize and put into perspective my findings (Sect. 6).

2

Setting the Scene

Together with Australia (Robson 2013) and New Zeeland (Little 2013), the UK—promptly followed in Europe by the Scandinavian countries (Arlander 2013)—was a forerunner in the academization of the arts. This

94

R. LAERMANS

process was propelled by, first, the move of art schools and their programs to the polytechnics and the subsequent incorporation in 1992 of the latter in the university system. With this evolution came a growing pressure to undertake research within art departments and, after the full academization of artistic curricula from 1992 onward, to facilitate the spreading of PhD programs. An analogous development occurred at the European Union level after 2000 in the wake of the so-called Bologna Process (see Borgdorff 2012; Lesage 2013; Schiesser 2015).4 Indeed, art worlds were never the main driver. Organizational and, particularly, governmental considerations regarding education were decisive, which partly explains the already mentioned artistic resistance against the academization of the arts. According to James Elkins (2014c), around 2014 approximately 200 institutions world-wide were offering PhD programs related to one of the arts disciplines. Notwithstanding the leading historical role of the UK, Australia, and New-Zealand, it is noteworthy that this trend had not yet had a substantial impact in the USA: as of 2014, only 12 institutions offered a PhD program in North America. The existing programs are everything but homogeneous. They show marked differences in duration and content, the requirements regarding supervision, the length of the thesis, and the weighting of the dissertation and the submitted artwork, respectively (Elkins 2014b). For those who are directly involved, the academization of the arts may create quite some role ambiguity, if not a difficulty to resolve role conflict, because of the already signaled differences between the worlds of art and science. As Michael Biggs and Daniela Büchler (2011) rightly emphasize, artistic practitioners-researchers stand at the intersection of two communities. On the one hand, they are arts practitioners: fellow artists are their direct peers; on the other hand, they are university embedded researchers who have to deal with the dominant epistemic authority of science within Academia. Involved are two distinct institutional worlds that are in their turn embedded in two different societal subsystems (Luhmann 1997). Whereas the subsystem of science is ruled by the code or leading distinction ‘truth versus non-truth,’ the activity within the arts system focuses on the production of singular artefacts that are observed according to the difference between fitting and non-fitting forms (read: colors or lines in painting, movements in dance, words in poetry, etcetera). The practitioner-researcher is thus confronted with divergent values regarding quality or what is worthy, various standards pertaining to innovation or

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

95

originality, discordant definitions of what is or what is not interesting. Let me put these institutionalized differences a bit more into perspective. Within the scientific realm, conceptual rationalism (the use of nonambiguous, well-defined concepts), logical coherence among concepts (systematic theorizing), methodological rigor (transparently applying research standards and techniques), and peer control are central values when it comes to knowledge and its production. Moreover, scientific research is in principle non-personal: one does not just try to figure out things for personal pleasure or for oneself but is motivated by the idea that the addressed problem is of broader importance. Underlying these values and norms is the idea that research aims at an accumulation of knowledge. Hence the importance of empirical confirmation and, particularly, of newness. In contrast to science, the artistic process is goal-free and only yields open results that cannot be understood as proofs (Bertram 2012); moreover, it is primarily an individual quest that is often motivated by the need for self-expression (Biggs and Büchler 2011, 88). In addition, innovation has a different meaning in the artistic ‘regime of singularity’ (Heinich 1998). The newness of an artwork’s singularity has not primarily to do with general knowledge, but first and foremost regards its originality in comparison with existing works. Of course, the dialogue with an artwork may result in some kind of knowledge, for instance about the functioning of emotions or intimacy within micro-relations (indeed a subject of many novels, poems, and theatre plays).5 However, according to the values that predominate in the arts world, gaining new knowledge is not the primary stake in whatever kind of contact with an artwork. Art rather finds its identity in the realms of expression and, concomitant with this, an alternatingly playful and inquisitive exploration of (new) forms. In light of these differences, Biggs and Büchler (2011, 89) conclude on the basis of the UK experience that ‘the hasty academization of the creative practice community has had a disruptive effect’: ‘We observe that […] there is dissatisfaction from the academic community that what practitioners do is not research; and from the practice community that their values are not represented or reflected in academic research.’ Distinct value registers or interpretive frameworks are indeed involved: the very same actions undertaken within the context of for instance a doctoral trajectory may alternatively be termed ‘messy research’ (the scientist) and ‘innovative’ (the artist); or the text material submitted within the context of a PhD is valued as ‘rather incoherent’ and ‘highly creative,’ respectively. At stake is of course the role of personal experience—and hence of

96

R. LAERMANS

subjectivity—in artistic practices, which is not in line with the academically predominant standard of impersonal and inter-subjectively controllable knowledge.

3 Against Scientism and Propositional Knowledge: Defending the Particularities of Aesthetic or Artistic Knowledge Those arguing for the possibility to combine artistic knowledge and research do not straightforwardly reject the authority of science. Yet they do repudiate scientism: ‘As long as explicit, formal-abstract and language mediated knowledge counts as the only form of human knowledge, there is no room for the epistemic assimilation of artistic research’ (Jung 2016, 36; emphasis in original, my translation, RL). In addition, it is contended that particularly artistic research embodies ‘the post postmodern possibility of moving beyond barren dichotomies such as theory or practice, form or content, and discursive or intuitive knowledge’ (Rosengren 2010, 107). Two different argumentative strands can be detected in the relevant literature to underpin both the epistemological specificities of artistic knowledge and its legitimacy beyond strict scientific standards. The first one, which predominates, emphasizes the epistemic singularity of the arts through references to the notion of the aesthetic; on the contrary, the second line stresses the intermingling of reflexive thinking and art making since the institutionalization of Conceptual Art. It is important to note that neither argument claims the notion of truth or objectivity, which is in line with the overall rejection of scientism. The first argumentative line anchors the specific epistemic nature of the arts in the notion of sensual or sense-bounded knowledge (Badura 2015; compare Dombois, Mersch and Rintz 2014). An often invoked historical point of reference here is Alexander Baumgarten’s Aesthetica (1750). This book takes up the literal meaning of the Greek word ‘aesthesis’ in view of a new discipline that would study the particularities of sensual experience as a genuine source of knowledge (see for instance Böhme 2012). According to Baumgarten, artworks especially stand out by their capacity to represent in a sensual mode a conceptually non-graspable individuality or singularity (compare Slager 2011). Other authors refer to Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s writings on perception and, broader, the

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

97

phenomenological strand of thinking, in their endeavor to give epistemological authority to the aesthetic experiences that are enacted in creative practices and condensed into artistic products (Borgdorff 2011; 2012). Also John Dewey’s writings on art—his most important book is aptly titled Art as Experience (1934)—and, especially, Michael Polanyi’s notion of tacit or implicit knowledge are regularly invoked to justify the epistemic status of sensual or sense-bounded knowledge (Johnson 2011; Jung 2016; Wesseling 2016). Though it may also be constitutive for explicit forms of knowledge or ‘know that’ (including science), implicit knowledge or ‘know how’ can never be rationalized or fully put into words since it is immanently situational or local and deeply interwoven with embodied practices. In contrast to scientific thinking, aesthetic experience is that much sense-bounded that the knowledge it generates can never be generalized or translated into conceptual abstractions. Artistic research may articulate the sensual experiences characterizing artistic knowledge, yet this will not result in propositional statements since this would be synonymous with losing the research object’s epistemic particularity in the process. Every attempt to clarify comes down to an ‘unfinished reflection,’ a ‘not-yet-knowing’ (Borgdorff 2011, 61) and a perspectivism that averts systematic theory building. The intrinsic link between aesthetic experience and artistic knowledge rather legitimates notions such as ‘bodily thinking’ (Wesseling 2016), or ‘aesthetic thinking’ (Dombois, Mersch and Rintz 2014). In line with these views, Dieter Mersch (2015) coins the expression ‘epistemologies of the aesthetic’ and concludes that artistic or aesthetic thinking is ‘another thinking’ that is the ‘other’ of scientific reasoning: it cannot be understood or calibrated from the point of view of propositional or discursive thinking. Overall, those stressing the aesthetic or sensual and therefore bodyrelated character of artistic knowledge imply that the artist is an expert in it because of his or her direct involvement in its production. Every artwork offers knowledge through sensual experiences, yet the artistmaker may claim a surplus knowledge when he has made the work himself through a bodily or sense-based practice. As said, this epistemological position is asserted without the overt contestation of the authority of science. Nevertheless, it puts forward an idea of knowledge, and to a lesser extent also expertise, that claims authority next to science in full awareness that the advocated epistemology will be rejected by proponents of scientism. In a word, the authority of science is acknowledged as far as science

98

R. LAERMANS

itself is concerned, including the distinction between truth and untruth, objective and non-objective knowledge. Yet simultaneously the authority of science to differentiate between legitimate and illegitimate academic knowledge, in the broader sense, is rejected. What is contested then is not so much science’s monopoly on referential truth, but the reduction of academically sound knowledge to the epistemic culture of science. The second argumentative line defending the possibility of artistic knowledge and research is very different from the first one and represents a minority point of view. It tries to bridge the gap between artistic knowledge and categorical or language-bound cognition and, moreover, underlines the intrinsic research-orientation of contemporary art. The latter is thus situated in the vicinity of scientific practices and not opposed to regular science in terms of an aesthetic thinking or sense-bounded knowledge. The main reference here is the breakthrough of Conceptual Art in the 1960s and its subsequent institutionalization. Throughout the spreading of Conceptualism, the premeditated employment of specific modes of inquiry (such as participant observation) and the documenting or archiving of sometimes highly ephemeral practices (such as land art or performance art) have come to play a central role in contemporary art worlds. In their discussion of these developments on the basis of Christopher Frayling’s (1993) well-known distinction between ‘research into / through / for art and design,’ Hilde Van Gelder and Jan Baetens (2014) contend that there exist nowadays two basic paradigms, i.e., researchoriented cognitive art and so-called expressive art. In their view, the increasing impact of Conceptualism or cognitive art vastly co-explains the current discourse on artistic research and knowledge. James Elkins polemically aggrandizes this line of thought by claiming that those who criticize the academization of the arts as exacerbating the intellectualization of art may be on the wrong side of history since ‘what is demonized might be just a name for the preponderant postwar avant-garde’ (Elkins 2014d, 231). However, like Van Gelder and Baetens (2014) he readily admits that conceptually oriented practices do not cover the whole range of artistic production. Many artists negate or turn down cognitive art and prefer to work within the confines of its expressive counterpart. Nevertheless, the Conceptual Art-argument is much more prone to recognize the legitimacy of a science-related sort of knowledge that privileges abstract concepts, theorizing, and self-reflexivity. As such, it distances itself from the specific epistemological status and authority of

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

99

the kind of sensual or body- and practice-related knowledge emphasized within the first, more dominant line of argumentation.

4 Articulating the Notions of Research and Method Artistically The elucidation of the specificities of artistic knowledge against the background of the prevailing scientific framings of cognition goes hand in hand with a particular view on artistic research and the way it may be legitimately carried out. Most authors make the distinction between research-based art and arts-based research (Öberg 2010), or between research for art and research in the arts (Borgdorff 2011; 2012). The first kind of activity is undertaken within the context of the making of a particular artwork while, on the contrary, arts-based research is motivated by the deliberate intention to do research-as-research and to communicate about its outcomes to peers. If arts-based research—which is evidently the meaning given here to the notion of artistic research—is research in and through the active making of art, the restrictive notion of methodology commonly ascribed to within the sciences seems difficult to hold on to. In reference to the original meaning of the word ‘method,’ Borgdorff (2011, 46) contends in this respect: ‘Methodologically speaking, the creative process forms the pathway (or part of it) through which new insights, understandings and products come into being.’ Within the arts, both the finding or production of knowledge and its further exploration are intrinsically interwoven with what one situationally and temporarily does in relation to a specific problem or issue (which may at first sight appear very minor, e.g., deciding where to start a new line when drawing). The theoretical distance to one’s direct activity, which also informs the more open methods or research strategies deployed in the humanities, is lacking here. Hence the use of notions such as ‘doing-thinking’ (Nelson 2013) or ‘performative research’ (Haseman 2006) that highlight the entwinement of making and reflection—a combination that was already emphasized by Donald Schön (1983) when defending an ‘epistemology of practice’ in his influential book The Reflective Practitioner: How Professionals Think in Action. Or as Martin Tröndle has it: the practitioner-researcher is ‘researching with and through the material, in order to bring it into new arrangements’ (Tröndle 2012, 189; my translation, RL).

100

R. LAERMANS

To claim both epistemic and methodological authority for practicebased research also contradicts the stress on standardization, generalizability, and transparency within the dominant scientific view on methods. ‘Artistic research could be described as methodice: a strong belief in a methodology founded by operational strategies which cannot be legitimized beforehand’ Slager (2011, 339) observes. In the same vein, Mika Hannula and colleagues (2005, 67) assert that artistic research is ‘an area that is articulating its own criteria based on its individual characteristics and practices.’ Hence research in the arts encompasses both experimentation in practice on the one hand and reflection on and interpretation of that inevitably particular practice on the other (Borgdorff 2012, 23). The general outcome of this self-reflexivity is not a well-defined set of rules but a catalogue of exemplary practices or, rather, of situation- and contextbound ways of doing that may inspire other practitioner-researchers (Pérez Royo, Sánchez and Blanco 2013). Attempting to further clarify the difference between a regulative and a reflective methodology, Anke Haarmann (2015) invokes the Freudian notion of Nachträglichkeit, which is commonly translated as deferred action, retroaction, après-coup, or afterwardsness. Involved is a belated understanding or retro-active attribution of meaning to a series of actions. However, this post-perspective or aprèscoup methodological justification will probably be selective and may mask crucial moments of confusion and non-articulateness (Elkins 2014c, 237). All this is not to say that practice-led researchers do not use established methods. They re-purpose existing methods, particularly qualitative ones, out of a general, pragmatically colored spirit of ‘practical experimentation’ (Cobussen 2010). For instance, they regularly use and combine interview techniques, reflective dialogue techniques, journal- or logbook techniques, observation methods, practice trails, and expert or peer review methods to complement and enrich their personal experiences and workbased actions. Nevertheless, even when applying such methods there remains a broadly admitted problem of standardization. Hence Mick Wilson’s (2014, 189) slightly malicious remark on doctoral research: ‘the enigmatic figure of the reflexive practitioner may be said to stalk the doctoral art studio in search of the equally enigmatic trophy of methodological rigor.’ Yet artistic research not only rests on a loop between practice and methodology that is difficult to tame or rationalize, and that even partly escapes retrospective interpretation. Based on interviews with practitioners-researchers working within the live arts, Leah Mercer and Julia Robson (2012) infer that methods use is also vastly inspired by

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

101

someone’s previous artistic practice and already acquired skills. Moreover, it is personal and intuitive, dynamic and situational, calibrated by sensory and somatic ways of knowing, and multi-modal. Artistic research is therefore plastic, morphing, and hybrid: it comprises the dropping of previous ways of working, re-adjudgments in the course of what one is doing, and so on. Overall, instability reigns within arts-based research, which fits the idea of creativity but counters the scientifically established notion of methods. However, in most of the literature I consulted this is not regarded as problematic. Once again, a strategy of methodological pluralization is deployed. ‘Hard methods’ are legitimate within the sciences, yet scientism must be rejected: the academically prevailing framework for defining sound methods should be widened so as to accommodate the specificity of practicing art. In line with the ‘regime of singularity’ (Heinich 1998), making art and a fortiori doing artistic research is not rulebound but interwoven with an always particular process of creation. Celebrating the pluralism, openness, and criticality characterizing artistic research, Hannula, Suoranta and Vadèn (2005) propose the metaphors of ‘democracy of experiences’ and ‘methodological abundance.’ In the same vein, Ursula Bertram positively depicts the non-linear character of artistic research, which she links to Karl Popper’s notion of probing movements: ‘I must be in the midst, try, intervene, think about, think away, translate, experiment, reject and discover, with camera’s, performance, pixel, colors, words, actions, confrontations, cooperations, projects’ (Bertram 2012, 300; my translation, RL). So overall, it is not considered problematic that artistic research equals an erratic, multi-layered process comprising frequent moments of unsystematic drifting and contingency (Borgdorff 2011, 57; compare Maharaj 2004, 50). Notwithstanding the contradiction with the scientific notion of methodology, ‘undisciplined research’ (Mörsch 2015) is legitimate within an academic context. However, most authors stress a condition that may not be overstepped: also the highly ‘liquid’ artistic research must be effectively documented, for instance through the used research techniques such as taking notes or making sketches (see Mareis 2012 on ‘methodological imagination’). Precisely through the archiving and, coupled to it, the retro-active reflection on how an artwork has been made, research for art distinguishes itself from arts-based research.

102

R. LAERMANS

5

Scientific Versus Academic Research and Knowledge

The two previous sections make clear that the dominant discourse tries to legitimate the epistemological specificity of artistic knowledge production and buttress skepticism from within academia in light of prevailing scientific standards. On the one hand, the latter are rejected for being non-appropriate: they cannot do justice to the particularity of art. Hence, the general epistemological authority of the sciences is questioned on the premise that it has its limits. Scientism fits the sciences, yet the realm of academically sound knowledge is vaster. On the other hand, and complementary to this deconstructive gesture, art’s singularity is emphasized in order to put forward the idea of a different, non-propositional, and sense-bound aesthetic knowledge and concomitant expertise. This goes together with the defense of an open framework for artistic research that re-articulates the absence of methodological rigor in the direction of a positive valuation of the loop linking practice and thinking, direct experience or intuition on the one hand and documentation and post hoc reflection on the other. Through this double move, the stress on art’s epistemic particularity is combined with a marked reticence to deconstruct science’s monopoly on true and superior knowledge. The dominant discourse on art, knowledge and research first and foremost defends a plural epistemic stance and does not criticize the general legitimacy of the sciences but the positivist reduction of the notions of knowledge and research. Moreover, in line with the notion of academization, this advocated epistemic and methodological pluralism goes hand in hand with the overt recognition of the handful of generic standards that transversally connect all university-based disciplines (compare Cobussen 2010; Borgdorff 2011). These normative standards do not define scientific knowledge as such but are considered to delineate the minimum expectations regarding research and knowledge deserving the qualification ‘academic.’ This is indeed the crux of the academization of the arts: it is discursively differentiated from the arts’ ‘scientification.’ The inherently practice-based knowledge produced through artistic research can therefore claim legitimacy insofar as it complies with the generic standards of academic quality. The dominant discourse outlined above indeed distinguishes academic from scientific research or knowledge and uses the former as the proverbial Trojan horse to defend within the context of the university both

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

103

the specificity and the legitimacy of the arts’ epistemic culture against Scientism. Scientific practices imply academic standards, yet the reverse is not true: given their generic character, academic norms may be translated in various ways and therefore accommodate different epistemic cultures. Thus, research of whatever kind and in whatever field may claim academic authority when it complies with three general expectations: (1) it pursues new and communicable or transferable knowledge through the formulation of one or more research questions or problems (eventually supplemented by a hypothesis), (2) it constructs a fitting research context by means of references to the relevant literature, and (3) it specifies and justifies apt research methods for addressing and answering the research question(s) or problem(s) (see for instance Borgdorff 2012; Lesage 2015). Or as Nina Malterud (2010, 28) succinctly notes regarding artistic research claiming the epitheton ‘academic’: ‘the why’s, what’s, and how’s should be asked.’ As Borgdorff (2012) repeatedly emphasizes, such generic academic standards in principle imply that an artwork is disseminated and seconded by a minimum of documentation. As a rule, the latter comprises a written part that stipulates the initial research questions and their context on the one hand and elucidates the followed path or used methods on the other. Most participants in the discussion on academization explicitly defend the necessity of both documentation and written explanation or retrospective reflexivity (e.g., Nelson 2013). Wesseling voices the opinion of many when she asserts that the reflection characterizing artistic researchas-research in and through art ‘finds expression in the interconnection of artwork and discursive writing’ (Wesseling 2016, 10). Nevertheless, a minority of authors invokes the singularity of artistic knowledge and research to question the idea of the ‘written supplement’ (the latter, Derrida-inspired expression stems from Lesage 2013). This minority position brings back to the fore the immanent tension characterizing ‘the artistic turn’ in knowledge and research (Coessens, Crispin and Douglas 2009): the primacy of the artwork and its irreducible features is played out against the discursive character of the ‘written supplement.’ Notwithstanding such dissenting voices, it seems that the discussion is now discursively and institutionally settled (Sollfrank 2016, 96). Most authors contributing to the discourse on artistic knowledge and research recognize the legitimacy of the handful of generic standards that regulate and format knowledge production and its (re)presentation within Academia. Also the vast majority of institutions that fund artistic research

104

R. LAERMANS

or hand out a PhD in the Arts stick to these rules. As a matter of fact, even in those exceptional cases that one may submit only an artistic work in view of a PhD, such as at York University’s Department of Music, PhD candidates are mostly advised to include text in order to explain the work to external examiners and/or because evaluative standards such as innovation and originality may not be immediately read off the work itself (Candy and Edmonds 2011, 134–135).

6

Conclusion and Debate

For a genuine sociological understanding of the rapid incorporation of the arts within universities, the notion of academization—which has a long history in the arts (see for instance Heinich 1993)—must be taken literally. Through the differentiation between scientific and academic standards and its compliance with the latter, artistic knowledge production can claim academic authority without having to give in on its specificity and without contesting the epistemic authority of science. The norms regulating academic research and knowledge may seem relatively binding, but, simultaneously, allow for much interpretative flexibility when it comes to its problematization, contextualization, and justification (Borgdorff 2010). For instance, within the sciences one usually justifies the choice of one or more methods at the beginning of one’s research, i.e., in light of the delineated questions or problematic. The dominant discourse on artistic research, however, gives a post hoc twist to the generic academic requirement of methodological justification: one does not have to spell out what one will do in advance but writes what one has done in order to create new knowledge. Overall, the generality and flexibility of academic criteria create the possibility to settle the differences between art and science within the context of universities or funding agencies. The bridging within the zone of what one may call ‘the academic’ does of course not resolve the tension implied by the notion of artistic research or, what we called earlier, the expert-practitioner. Over and over again, committees, supervisors, and particularly practitioners-researchers must negotiate a workable consensus hovering between the realms of art and research, personal practice, and academically sound knowledge. Thus, a project or its momentary instantiation may either be ‘too much art’ or ‘too much research’ because it is lacking in reflexivity (‘too much intuition’) or in practice-boundedness (‘too much theory’), respectively. Generic academic standards may create

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

105

in such discussions a common point of reference—a zone of negotiation and possible compromise within which the practice of so-called boundary work is made easier for the people involved (Borgdorff 2010; 2012, 174– 183). In fact, within this zone, academic authority is situationally and socially constructed in relation to the particularities of the assessed work and research. Nevertheless, some practitioners-researchers still regard ‘the academic’ as a problematic zone. They observe that a marked split continues to inform their activity. As Biggs and Büchler (2011, 97) comment in this respect: ‘while the research is accepted as being academically valid, practice and research are kept separate. […] Practitioners-researchers transit between the creative practice community values and the academically valid models of research. […] Dissatisfaction arises from a feeling of compromise on both sides.’ Other observers, such as Michael Schwab (2010), also signal a difficulty to harmonize the two worlds of the arts and academia. One may do art, and one may do academic research—yet both ends or activities do not necessarily meet in terms of artistic credibility and academic authority, respectively. C.P. Snow (1959) viewed the university as a split world in which the ‘two cultures’ of the humanities and the sciences stand next to each other without many possibilities for a meaningful dialogue. This view was later retaken by Wolf Lepenies (1985) in his characterization of the social sciences as a ‘third culture’ still profoundly marked by the overall difference between the ‘two cultures.’ The academization of the arts only confirms the plural character of the university and the variety in epistemic practices it may accommodate. Through artistic research and knowledge, a new epistemological and methodological discourse has meanwhile taken shape that stresses the legitimacy of aesthetic or sensebounded knowledge and a ‘nomadic’ methodology leaving room for change and creativity. Ultimately, the authority of this new episteme is credited through the invocation of the generic academic standards that legitimate the established sciences, though indeed in a different way. Scientific authority, then, is only a particular instantiation of academic authority.

Notes 1. In the fields of design, architecture, fashion, and other so-called applied arts, the increase in practice-led research or knowledge production was also

106

2.

3.

4.

5.

R. LAERMANS

furthered by the more utilitarian directed research approach that is associated with the growing stake of the creative industries within economic production. Hence the by now well-known talk on the knowledge society or the discourse on the transition from mode 1-knowledge to mode 2knowledge: ‘In Mode 1 problems are set and solved in a context governed by the largely academic interests of a specific community. By contrast, Mode 2 knowledge is carried out in a context of application. Mode 1 is disciplinary while Mode 2 is transdisciplinary; Mode 1 is characterized by homogeneity, Mode 2 by heterogeneity’ (Gibbons et al. 1994, 3). This still leaves for instance the relevant French-based literature under the radar. In addition, it would be highly interesting to scrutinize the way artistic research and knowledge is dealt with in Southern and Eastern Europe. The terminology ranges from ‘Practice-based PhD’ to ‘PhD in Studio Art’ to ‘Doctorate in the Arts.’ When it comes to the written part, the term ‘dissertation’ is the ongoing one in the USA, whereas in the UK the notion of thesis is established (Elkins 2014a, b, c). In this contribution, I predominantly use the term PhD in the Arts and alternatingly employ the categories of dissertation and thesis when referring to the mostly obligatory ‘written supplement’ (Lesage 2013) accompanying one or more artworks in view of obtaining a doctoral degree. Note that at the bachelor level, most artistic curricula still primarily offer vocational training, also when a research component has meanwhile been built in. Even this possibility is ruled out by Stephen Scrivener (n.d.) in a muchquoted article with the telling title ‘The Art Object Does not Embody a Form of Knowledge.’ Scrivener argues that the eventual knowledge that artworks offer us can only arise through communication or a reading of the artefact: ‘In short, we should be able to say, “I know this or that as a result of viewing this artwork.” I have suggested that artworks cannot be read, at least to the level where they are usually assumed to function, i.e., to endow deep insight into emotions, human nature and relationships, and our place in the World, etc. If this is the case, then individually we cannot “know” anything of deep significance through viewing an artwork.’ Scrivener concludes that artworks only offer perspectives, ways of seeing, or ‘apprehensions.’

References Arlander, Annette. 2013. “Artistic Research in a Nordic Context.” In Practice as Research in the Arts: Principles, Protocols, Pedagogies, Resistances, edited by Robin Nelson, 152–62. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

107

Badura, Jens. 2015. “Erkenntnis (Sinnliche).” In Künstlerische Forschung: Ein Handbuch, edited by Jens Badura, Selma Dubach, Anke Haarmann, Dieter Mersch, Anton Rey, Christoph Schenker, and Germán Toro Pérez, 43–8. Zürich: diaphanes. Bertram, Ursula. 2012. “Künstlerisches Denken und Handeln.” In Kunstforschung als ästhetische Wissenschaft: Beiträge zur transdisziplinären Hybridisierung von Wissenschaft und Kunst, edited by Martin Tröndle and Julia Warmers, 293–314. Bielefeld: transcript. Biggs, Michael, and Daniela Büchler. 2011. “Communities, Values, Conventions and Actions.” In The Routledge Companion to Research in the Arts, edited by Michael Biggs and Henrik Karlsson, 82–98. London: Routledge. Böhme, Gernot. 2012. “Ästhetik als Wissenschaft sinnlicher Erfahrung.” In Kunstforschung als ästhetische Wissenschaft: Beiträge zur transdisziplinären Hybridisierung von Wissenschaft und Kunst, edited by Martin Tröndle and Julia Warmers, 319–32. Bielefeld: transcript. Borgdorff, Henk. 2010. “Artistic Research as Boundary Work.” In Art and Artistic Research, edited by Corina Caduff, Fiona Siegenthaler, and Tan Wälchli, 72–9. Zürich: Zürich University of the Arts/Scheidegger & Spiess. Borgdorff, Henk. 2011. “The Production of Knowledge in Artistic Research.” In The Routledge Companion to Research in the Arts, edited by Michael Biggs and Henrik Karlsson, 44–63. London: Routledge. Borgdorff, Henk. 2012. The Conflict of Faculties: Perspectives on Artistic Research and Academia. Leiden: Leiden University Press. Candy, Linda, and Ernest Edmonds. 2011. “The Role of the Artefact and Frameworks for Practice-Based Research.” In The Routledge Companion to Research in the Arts, edited by Michael Biggs and Henrik Karlsson, 120–37. London/New York: Routledge. Cobussen, Marcel. 2010. “The Intruder: On Differentiations in Musical Research.” In Art and Artistic Research: Music, Visual Art, Design, Literature, Dance, edited by Corina Caduff, Fiona Siegenthaler, and Tan Wälchli, 46–55. Zürich: Zürich University of the Arts/Scheidegger & Spiess. Coessens, Kathleen, Darla Crispin, and Anne Douglas. 2009. The Artistic Turn: A Manifesto. Leuven: Leuven University Press. Collins, Harry, and Robert Evans. 2002. “The Third Wave of Science Studies: Studies of Expertise and Experience.” Social Studies of Science 32 (2): 235–96. Collins, Harry, and Robert Evans. 2007. Rethinking Expertise. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Dombois, Florian, Dieter Mersch, and Julia Rintz, eds. 2014. Ästhetisches Denken: Nicht-Propositionalität, Episteme, Kunst. Zürich: diaphanes. Elkins, James. 2014a. “Introduction.” In Artists with PhD’s: On the New Doctoral Degree in Studio Art (Second Edition), edited by James Elkins, xii–xxi. Washington: New Academia.

108

R. LAERMANS

Elkins, James. 2014b. “Six Cultures of the PhD around the World.” In Artists with PhD’s: On the New Doctoral Degree in Studio Art (Second Edition), edited by James Elkins, 3–16. Washington: New Academia. Elkins, James. 2014c. “List of PhD Programs around the World.” In Artists with PhD’s: On the New Doctoral Degree in Studio Art (Second Edition), edited by James Elkins, 17–34. Washington: New Academia. Elkins, James. 2014d. “Fourteen Reasons to Mistrust the PhD.” In Artists with PhD’s: On the New Doctoral Degree in Studio Art (Second Edition), edited by James Elkins, 227–78. Washington: New Academia. Frayling, Christopher. 1993. Research in Art and Design. London: Royal College of Art. Gibbons, Michael, Camille Limoges, Helga Nowotny, Simon Schwartzman, Peter Scott, and Martin Trow. 1994. The New Production of Knowledge: The Dynamics of Science and Research in Contemporary Society. London: Sage. Haarmann, Anke. 2015. “Methodologie.” In Künstlerische Forschung: Ein Handbuch, edited by Jens Badura, Selma Dubach, Anke Haarmann, Dieter Mersch, Anton Rey, Christoph Schenker, and Germán Toro Pérez, 85–8. Zürich: diaphanes. Hannula, Mika, Juha Suoranta, and Tere Vadèn. 2005. Artistic Research: Theories, Methods and Practice. Gothenburg/Helsinki: Gothenburg University Art Monitor/University of Fine Arts. Haseman, Brad. 2006. “A Manifesto for Performative Research.” Media International Australia Incorporating Culture and Policy 118 (February): 98–106. Heinich, Nathalie. 1993. Du peintre à l’artiste: Artisans et académiciens à l’âge classique. Paris: Minuit. Heinich, Nathalie. 1998. Ce que l’art fait à la sociologie. Paris: Minuit. Jasanoff, Sheila. 2012. Science and Public Reason. London: Routledge. Johnson, Mark. 2011. “Embodied Knowledge through Art.” In The Routledge Companion to Research in the Arts, edited by Michael Biggs and Henrik Karlsson, 141–51. London: Routledge. Jung, Eva-Maria. 2016. “Die Kunst des Wissens und das Wissen der Kunst: Zum epistemischen Status der künstlerischen Forschung.” In Wie verändert sich Kunst, wenn man sie als Forschung versteht? edited by Judith Siegmund, 23–44. Bielefeld: transcript. Latour, Bruno. 1999. Politiques de la nature: Comment faire entrer les sciences en démocratie. Paris: La Découverte. Lepenies, Wolf. 1985. Die drei Kulturen: Zwischen Literatur und Wissenschaft. München: Carl Hanser Verlag. Lesage, Dieter. 2013. “PaR in Continental Europe: A Site of Many Contests.” In Practice as Research in the Arts: Principles, Protocols, Pedagogies, Resistances, edited by Robin Nelson, 142–51. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

109

Lesage, Dieter. 2015. “Akademisierung.” In Künstlerische Forschung: Ein Handbuch, edited by Jens Badura, Selma Dubach, Anke Haarmann, Dieter Mersch, Anton Rey, Christoph Schenker, and Germán Toro Pérez, 221–3. Zürich: diaphanes. Little, Suzanne. 2013. “Aotearoa/New Zealand and Practice as Research.” In Practice as Research in the Arts: Principles, Protocols, Pedagogies, Resistances, edited by Robin Nelson, 117–28. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Luhmann, Niklas. 1997. Die Gesellschaft der Gesellschaft. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp. Maharaj, Sarat. 2004. “Unfinishable Sketch of ‘An Object in 4D’: Scenes of Artistic Research.” In Artistic Research, edited by Annette Balkema and Henk Slager, 39–58. Amsterdam: Rodopi. Malterud, Nina. 2010. “Can You Make Art Without Research?” In Art and Artistic Research, edited by Corina Caduff, Fiona Siegenthaler, and Tan Wälchli, 24–9. Zürich: Zürich University of the Arts/Scheidegger & Spiess. Mareis, Claudia. 2012. “Methodische Imagination: Kreativitätsdenken, Geschichte und künstlerische Forschung.” In Kunstforschung als ästhetische Wissenschaft: Beiträge zur transdisziplinären Hybridisierung von Wissenschaft und Kunst, edited by Martin Tröndle and Julia Warmers, 203–42. Bielefeld: transcript. Mercer, Leah, and Julia Robson. 2012. “The Backbone of Live Research: A Synthesis of Method in Performance Based Enquiry.” In Live Research: Methods of Practice-Led Research in Performance, edited by Leah Mercer, Julia Robson, and David Fenton, 11–9. Nerang: Ladyfinger. Mersch, Dieter. 2015. Epistemologien des Ästhetischen. Zürich: diaphanes. Mörsch, Carmen. 2015 “Undisziplinierte Forschung.” In Künstlerische Forschung: Ein Handbuch, edited by Jens Badura, Selma Dubach, Anke Haarmann, Dieter Mersch, Anton Rey, Christoph Schenker, and Germán Toro Pérez, 77–80. Zürich: diaphanes. Mottram, Judith. 2014. “Researching the PhD in Art and Design: What Is It, and Why Do a PhD in Art and Design?” In Artists with PhD’s. On the New Doctoral Degree in Studio Art (Second Edition), edited by James Elkins, 35– 70. Washington: New Academia. Nelson, Robin. 2013. “Robin Nelson on Practice and Research.” In Practice as Research in the Arts: Principles, Protocols, Pedagogies, Resistances, edited by Robin Nelson, 3–116. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Öberg, Johan. 2010. “Difference or Différance?” In Art and Artistic Research, edited by Corina Caduff, Fiona Siegenthaler, and Tan Wälchli, 40–5. Zürich: Zürich University of the Arts/Scheidegger & Spiess. Pérez Royo, Victoria, José Antonio Sánchez, and Cristina Blanco. 2013. “Indefinitions: Forschung in den performativen Künsten.” In Das Forschen

110

R. LAERMANS

aller: Artistic Research als Wissensproduktion zwischen Kunst, Wissenschaft und Gesellschaft, edited by Sybille Peters, 23–46. Bielefeld: transcript. Robson, Julie. 2013. “Artists in Australian Academies: Performance in the Labyrinth of Practice-Led Research.” In Practice as Research in the Arts: Principles, Protocols, Pedagogies, Resistances, edited by Robin Nelson, 129–41. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Rosengren, Mats. 2010. “Art + Research  = Artistic Research.” In Art and Artistic Research, edited by Corina Caduff, Fiona Siegenthaler, and Tan Wälchli, 106–5. Zürich: Zürich University of the Arts/Scheidegger & Spiess. Schiesser, Giaco. 2015. “Dritter Zyklus.” In Künstlerische Forschung: Ein Handbuch, edited by Jens Badura, Selma Dubach, Anke Haarmann, Dieter Mersch, Anton Rey, Christoph Schenker, and Germán Toro Pérez, 225–30. Zürich: diaphanes. Schön, Donald. 1983. The Reflective Practitioner: How Professionals Think in Action. London: Ashgate. Schwab, Michael. 2010. “First, the Second.” In Art and Artistic Research, edited by Corina Caduff, Fiona Siegenthaler, and Tan Wälchli, 56–65. Zürich: Zürich University of the Arts/Scheidegger & Spiess. Scrivener, Stephen. n.d. “The Art Object Does Not Embody a Form of Knowledge: Working Papers in Art & Design 2.” Accessed February 20, 2020. https://www.herts.ac.uk/__data/assets/pdf_file/0008/12311/ WPIAAD_vol2_scrivener.pdf. Slager, Henk. 2011. “Differential Iconography.” In The Routledge Companion to Research in the Arts, edited by Michael Biggs and Henrik Karlsson, 333–52. London: Routledge. Snow, Charles Percy. 1959. The Two Cultures. London: Cambridge University Press. Sollfrank, Cornelia. 2016. “A Pervert’s Guide to Artistic Research.” In Wie verändert sich Kunst, wenn man sie als Forschung versteht? edited by Judith Siegmund, 105–22. Bielefeld: transcript. Tröndle, Martin. 2012. “Methods of Artistic Research: Kunstforschung im Spiegel künstlerischer Arbeitsprozesse.” In Kunstforschung als ästhetische Wissenschaft: Beiträge zur transdisziplinären Hybridisierung von Wissenschaft und Kunst, edited by Martin Tröndle and Julia Warmers, 169–202. Bielefeld: transcript. Van Gelder, Hilde, and Jan Baetens. 2014. “The Future of the Doctorate in the Arts.” In Artists with PhD’s: On the New Doctoral Degree in Studio Art (Second Edition), edited by James Elkins, 211–26. Washington: New Academia. Wesseling, Janneke. 2016. Of Sponge, Stone and the Intertwinement with the Here and Now: A Methodology of Artistic Research. Amsterdam: Valiz.

4

THE PLURALIZATION OF ACADEMIA …

111

Wilson, Mick. 2014. “Four Theses Attempting to Revise the Terms of a Debate.” In Artists with PhD’s: On the New Doctoral Degree in Studio Art (Second Edition), edited by James Elkins, 179–94. Washington: New Academia. Wynne, Brian. 1996. “May the Sheep Safely Graze? A Reflexive View of the Expert-Lay Divide.” In Risk, Environment and Modernity: Towards a New Ecology, edited by Scott Lash, Bronislaw Szerszynski, and Brian Wynne, 44– 83. London: Sage.

PART II

Cultural Worldviews and the Authority of Scientific Truth Claims

CHAPTER 5

Elective Affinities Between Religion and Neuroscience: The Cases of Conservative Protestantism and Mindfulness Spirituality Liza Cortois and Anneke Pons-de Wit

1

Introduction

Classical sociologists understand religion as a cultural factor with major social impact, as exemplified by Max Weber’s argument that the Western affinity with modern capitalism can be traced back to the Protestant ethic (1978 [1905]). This contrasts with contemporary tendencies in so-called ‘hard’ sciences like neuroscience to reduce religion to the neurological infrastructure of the brain. Examples are the alleged discovery of the ‘God spot’ in the brain (Ramachandran 1998; Ratcliffe 2003) and studies of how temporal lobe seizures may invoke attributions of religious significance to events (Joseph 2001). For obvious reasons such accounts differ

L. Cortois Hasselt University, Hasselt, Belgium A. Pons-de Wit (B) Center for Sociological Research, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_5

115

116

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

from cultural-sociological approaches like Weber’s (1971 [1922]) that understand religion as a cultural force in and of itself. Yet, while social-scientific accounts of religion do obviously not reduce it to biology, they do not necessarily endow it with explanatory autonomy either. This is exemplified by understandings of appropriations of neuroscientific insights by religious groups as merely instrumental, more specifically as aimed at justifying and legitimizing their worldviews (e.g., Hammer and Lewis 2011). Such instrumentalist understandings are invoked to highlight, for example, that Buddhism was boasted already during British colonial times as ‘the scientific religion’ and as compatible with Darwinism and the physical law of causality (McMahan 2011). This is exemplified by the assertion of a Japanese Zen monk that ‘Buddha’s teachings are in exact agreement with the doctrines of modern science’ (Soen 1913). Other examples are claims to the effect that Jewish dietary laws are justified by medical science (Setton 2011) or that the Christian idea of creation is compatible with scientific arguments (Numbers 2006). Instrumentalist arguments are similarly used to explain why contemporary spiritual movements like Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP), Scientology (Dericquebourg 2011), Transcendental Meditation (Humes 2011), and even Shamanism (Winkelman 2002) embrace neuroscientific insights and EEG brain scans. In this chapter, we present a cultural-sociological analysis of religious interest in neuroscience that goes beyond such instrumentalist understandings by giving culture its full explanatory due. We do so by studying whether and how the central tenets of conservative Protestantism and mindfulness, two sharply contrasting religious traditions,1 do both invoke an interest in neuroscience, yet direct these interests towards different scientific insights within this field. For conservative Protestantism we analyze opinion articles about digital media and neuroscience published in either the conservative-Protestant newspaper Reformatorisch Dagblad or in well-read magazines in these circles. For mindfulness we base ourselves on articles about meditation published in the popular American magazine Mindful, supplemented with a few dozen interviews.

2 Religion and Science: From Instrumental Use to Elective Affinity Systematic studies of the relation between religion and science have been virtually absent for a long time (Hammer and Lewis 2011). This

5

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

117

can be attributed to the strict boundaries that have traditionally been drawn between science, understood as strictly immanent and secular, and religion, defined as entailing a transcendent and sacred sphere. The two are thus identified with two radically different and incompatible sources of authority, with science rooted in rational argumentation and religion bound to traditional or charismatic forms of authority (Weber 1978 [1922]; Turner 2007). This assumption of incommensurability also underlies theories of secularization that assume an increasingly rationalized and disenchanted world to undermine religion (e.g., Berger 1990 [1969]; Bruce 2002). Analogous arguments can be found in today’s popular atheist literature (e.g., Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion). The study of religion has meanwhile directed attention away from this notion of a radical incompatibility between religion and science to processes of meaning-making by religious subjects themselves (e.g., Heelas and Woodhead 2005). This has increased scholarly attention for the instrumentalist use of scientific arguments by religious groups, with the extensive edited volume by Lewis and Hammer (2011) constituting a case in point. The book assembles the work of scholars who study the scientific legitimation strategies by variegated religious groups, ranging from church-based religions, such as Islam, Judaism, and Christianity, to Satanism, Scientology, Shamanism, and New Age. In his own contribution to the book, one of the two editors distinguishes three strategies of using science to justify religious worldviews: by using it as a mere rhetorical means, by replacing divine revelation with the empirical or experiential method of science, and by referring to scientific findings to argue for the effectiveness of religious practices (Lewis 2011, 31–33). Regarding the study of New Age religion, the use of scientific argumentations is well-documented and typically portrayed in research as ‘ambiguous.’ On the one hand, New Age criticizes scientific reductionism or positivism, but on the other hand it is highly dependent on the authority of science for that critique. As Hammer (2002, 233) formulates it: ‘a critique of science coexists with claims that one’s own New Age doctrines are, in fact, scientific.’ Science is critiqued in its ‘materialistic’ guise, but simultaneously embraced as the leading rhetorical authority (idem, 223). Hanegraaff (1996, 64–65) uses the concept of Naturphilosophie to characterize this New Age use of science. According to him, it entails a mostly Romantic interpretation of science that focuses on how to ‘make sense of the world of experiences’ (idem, 65). Hammer (2002, 205) goes one step further by drawing a strong demarcation between

118

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

this form of ‘New Age science,’ which he calls ‘scientism,’ and ‘regular science.’ According to him this ‘scientism’ is a legitimation strategy ‘without the methods generally approved within the scientific community, and without subsequent social acceptance of these manifestations by the mainstream of the scientific community through e.g. peer review publication in academic journals’ (idem, 206). The appropriation of scientific arguments by traditional religions is less well-documented. This can be attributed to the fact that, unlike New Age spirituality, these types of religion tend to make stronger distinctions between secular and religious arguments (Pels 2012). Yet, they are held to espouse an ambivalent attitude toward science, too, with especially Protestantism welcoming scientific explanations to rationally understand the world, yet subordinating natural laws to divine revelation (Weber 1978 [1905]; Hersch 2011). Such an ambiguous relation to scientific reasoning is even attributed to the most conservative religious groups (Ellison and Musick 1995; Evans 2013). Hersch (2011), for example, demonstrates how a conservative Protestant radio station makes frequent use of scientific rhetoric, while she also points out that this rational reasoning remains subordinated to the revealed truth of the Bible. For this reason, she characterizes this sort of reasoning as ‘half-rational and half-faith,’ as ‘actually a blending of religious beliefs with the neutrality and authority of scientific data,’ and as attempting to ‘build arguments on “straw-man” arguments based on misinformation’ (Hersch 2011, 530). From a cultural-sociological perspective, such an approach of the appropriation of science by religion is only half-hearted, because it understands religious groups’ references to science by definitional fiat as mere strategies to gain recognition and legitimacy by mobilizing the allegedly ‘uncontested authority of science’ (e.g., Hammer and Lewis 2011). This results in a strong demarcation between ‘real science’ and ‘pseudoscience’ in these studies. Both in New Age and traditional religion, the use of science is seen as ambiguous and ‘pseudo-science.’ All this leads away from a detailed empirical analysis of how the worldviews of religious groups inform the cultural dynamics that drives their appropriations of science. The instrumentalist approach to the relationship between religion and science as such obscures the pivotal question of how exactly variegated religious groups differ in terms of their ambivalence towards science, i.e., why each of them tends to embrace particular types of scientific insight while critiquing or rejecting others.

5

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

119

In what follows we therefore adopt an alternative, cultural-sociological approach to the relation between religion and science that is informed by the Weberian notion of Wahlverwandtschaft or ‘elective affinity’ (Weber 1978 [1905]). Weber introduces the notion in his study of Protestantism to point out a resonance between modern capitalism and the Protestant idea of the vocation. In doing so he assumes no causal relationship between the two cultural systems, but rather an almost automatic attraction between them, pointing out that ‘it would not have been possible to say who first seized hold of the other’ (Weber 1978 [1905], 81). The notion of elective affinity thus refers to the existence of fertile cultural seedbeds for some ideas rather than others, on the basis of resemblances or cultural attractions between two cultural systems (McKinnon 2010). This contrasts with a Marxist approach of religion as a mere ideology to legitimize the upcoming modern capitalism. While Marx presumes an active moral agenda behind religion to convince people to participate in the capitalist system, Weber foregrounds the automatic and unintended nature of the attraction between both cultural systems when using the concept of elective affinity.2 In this study we apply this idea to the relation between science and religion. In doing so, we answer the call of Löwy (1992, 12), who points out that elective affinity ‘may provide a new angle of approach, little explored until now, in the field of the sociology of culture. It is surprising that, since Max Weber, so few attempts have been made to re-examine it and to use it in real research.’ Our empirical focus is, therefore, on how different religions electively align with different scientific insights, due to the cultural resonance between the two. This approach avoids strong demarcations between ‘real science’ and ‘pseudo-science’ and provides a detailed understanding of how and why religious groups differ in the scientific insights they adopt.

3

Data

In studying appropriations of neuroscience in the conservative-Protestant discourse on digital media and in the mindfulness discourse on the mental health benefits of meditation we address two strongly contrasting religious worldviews. The conservative Protestantism of the so-called ‘Dutch Biblebelt’ defines the earthly realm as profane and locates the divine beyond the human world, i.e., in the Being of a transcendent God Who rules human lives (Wisse 2007). This Protestantism as such boasts a

120

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

strong distinction between a transcendent God in heaven and humble and sinful people on earth (e.g., Ellison and Musick 1995; Hersch 2011). Mindfulness, on the other hand, understands the sacred as immanently present in the world, not least within human beings themselves (Williams and Kabat-Zinn 2011). It is clear from the outset that conservative Protestantism and mindfulness alike display a strong interest in neuroscience, more specifically in relation to digital media on the one hand (conservative Protestantism) and meditation on the other (mindfulness). This is why we focus our analysis on these two hotly debated concerns. The dangers of digital media are central to debates within the conservative-Protestant public sphere, with churches and educational institutions actively organizing reflection meetings for parents (Pons 2014). The key topic in mindfulness is meditation and mental health, with problems of burn-out, depression, and anxiety being the principal motives to engage in mindfulness in the first place (Cortois, Houtman and Aupers 2018). Our data consist of opinion articles about digital media (conservative Protestantism), respectively meditation and mental health (mindfulness), supplemented with interviews for the latter. We used the digital database ‘Digibron’ to sample articles that enabled us to study conservativeProtestant discourse about digital media. This database contains all articles published in the major newspaper read by Dutch conservative Protestants, the Reformatorisch Dagblad, and in more than 50 magazines that are similarly popular in the Dutch Biblebelt. We used the search terms ‘moderne media’ [modern media] or ‘digitale media’ [digital media] in combination with ‘hersenen’ [brain] to trace articles that cover digital media in relation to neuroscience in the period until halfway 2017. This resulted in a total of 453 hits. We then selected the 46 articles for analysis that most explicitly and extensively featured references to neuroscience and moral arguments about digital media. In the analysis, we reconstruct understandings of digital media and neuroscience as well as the way these are connected to the conservative-Protestant worldview. The data for mindfulness have been collected as part of the PhD project of the first author. They consist of articles about the relationship between meditation and neuroscience published in the popular American magazine Mindful, a bi-monthly magazine founded in 2010. The most relevant articles were identified by entering the search terms ‘brain’ (935 articles) and ‘neuroscience’ (192 articles) into the magazine’s search engine. This resulted in a sample of 30 articles that discuss the relation between

5

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

121

neuroscience and meditation explicitly and extensively, supplemented by data from interviews with fifteen mindfulness trainers and thirty of their course participants who practice mindfulness in their daily lives.

4 Worldview-Informed Interests in Neuroscience: The Cases of Conservative Protestantism and Mindfulness 4.1

The Worldview of Conservative Protestantism: Sinfulness and Cultural Pessimism

Economically emancipated, Dutch conservative Protestants have been successful in culturally distancing themselves from mainstream society since World War II (Janse 1985) by prohibiting radio and television to prevent easy access to mainstream Dutch culture (Polderman 1996; Otten and De Haan 2014). Considering the spread of digital media as one of the most serious challenges to their tradition, contemporary conservative Protestant commentators reject (uncensored) connections to the Internet as ‘almost completely contradictory to God’s Commandments’ (De Wachter Sions, November 10, 2011). As work-related Internet use and entertainment are narrowly intertwined, Post calls the digital revolution ‘a powerful attack from hell’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, August 28, 2012). Digital media are seen as ‘a devil’s trick’ in these circles, because they ‘distract young and old people from thinking about essential things’ (Terdege, May 4, 2016). One of the central problems is the impediment to so-called ‘deep reading’ that is perceived to be necessary to understand God’s will from the Bible. ‘The Bible is not suitable for browsing and scanning; instead, it requires studying […] Such an attitude is totally different from the superficial browsing through a web page,’ De Bruijn maintains (Reformatorisch Dagblad, December 4, 2010). Digital media are seen as ‘an assault on our costly time of grace,’ because they provide mere ‘empty amusement’ (De Saambinder, October 1, 2009), i.e., nonreligious, godless, and objectionable content that erodes deep reading skills: ‘digitalization prevents the progress of the [God’s] Word’ (Daniel, September 20, 2012). Hence, time spent on digital media is regarded as time lost. ‘I mostly object to it [digital media] because it is that time-consuming,’ Huijser (Terdege, May 4, 2016) states, an argument that leads Post (Reformatorisch Dagblad, June 11, 2011; our emphasis,

122

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

LC/AP) to the warning that teachers provide ‘either an optimal preparation of the pupil for modern society [when using digital media], or an optimal preparation to receive and maintain God’s Word [when not using digital media].’ Cultural pessimism about digital media goes hand in hand with the use of deterministic language, such as ‘influence’ and ‘addiction,’ to describe the relationship between digital media and its users. The Internet is ‘very addictive,’ De Vries asserts (Reformatorisch Dagblad, May 12, 2017): ‘you can’t resist it, and become addicted.’ Therefore, ‘the key question’ in the debate about digital media is ‘how developments in information technology change our lives’ (Van der Staaij, November 20, 2001), an argument used elsewhere to plea for a special research assignment to increase knowledge ‘about the influence of new media’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, January 24, 2017; our emphasis, LC/AP). While the Internet is ‘presented as freedom, [it] in fact results in slavery […] [since] the stories about the possibility to teach responsible use of Internet testify to too optimistic an image of human nature’ (Terdege, November 20, 2013). This pessimistic and deterministic approach to digital media is indeed rooted in the general religious conviction that human nature is easily influenced by evil things. ‘We are addicted to sins […] [so] we need restrictions, to limit the opportunities we might be seduced by,’ Post puts forward (Reformatorisch Dagblad, October 15, 2015). Van Klinken (Criterium, January 1, 2011) points in the same direction when he argues that ‘if you profess that your child is unable to do any good and is inclined to all evil’ your parenting style should ‘not be to teach independency, but dependency.’ He applies this to digital media by saying: ‘The choice for parenting children in dependency results in protecting them from using the Internet […] since the [sometimes proposed] principle of “being in charge of the remote” denies the sinful nature of men.’ Hence, while ‘the Internet is designed to generate [sinful] desires […] the roots of the problem are in our heart; that’s why the Internet is that dangerous,’ Meijer explains (Criterium, March 1, 2014). 4.2

The Elective Affinity Between Conservative Protestantism and Neuroscience

These conservative Protestant voices do not only rely on religious arguments, but also refer to scientific studies in dismissing digital media. They bolster their arguments that digital media come at a loss of concentration

5

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

123

by underscoring that ‘it has been proven by last week’s data of the Social and Cultural Planbureau (SCP)’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, December 31, 2016), and that ‘the German professor and neuroscientist Manfred Spitzer warns for it’ (Terdege, November 20, 2013). In elaborating the same argument Ariese (Reformatorisch Dagblad, May 24, 2014), among others, also refers extensively to scientific insights: ‘Spitzer […] writes straightforwardly that our brain “shrinks” […]. The superficial intake of information through the Internet requires less brain effort. […] Because of this, we memorize the knowledge less well.’ Further on, he also refers to Carr, ‘[who] proves the change of our brain in his book, [which] he underpins with solid scientific evidence.’ As these quotes testify, conservative Protestantism displays a special fascination for a specific kind of neuroscientific findings in their writings about digital media. Many an opinion article focuses on the brain, such as ‘Not Pleasant for Your Brain’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, May 24, 2014), ‘Living in a Digital Era: Use of Modern Media Influences our Brain’ (De Waarheidsvriend, June 20, 2013), and ‘Increasingly Ignorant’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, September 8, 2010). Unsurprisingly, then, books like The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains (2010) and Digitale Demenz (2013) by neuroscientists Carr and Spitzer, respectively, are among the most cited scientific references in conservative Protestant discourse about digital media. Like most other neuroscientists these two authors adopt ‘the actual knowledge of the plasticity of the brain: he [Carr] demonstrates how our brain constantly changes [and] the paths of our brain adapt’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, August 28, 2012). According to this author, the consequence of brain plasticity is that ‘we can teach our brain bad things; when Carr calls the Internet a “machine of distraction,” it is clear on which side he puts the Internet: it takes away our old brain.’ Therefore, ‘modern media influence our thoughts, and also our religious activities,’ Schot concludes (De Saambinder, May 15, 2014). It is striking to observe how conservative Protestant commentators come up with scientific evidence that highlights pessimistic and deterministic interpretations of brain plasticity and that as such fits their own religious worldview. Reflecting on his ‘own behavior,’ Bouw observes that ‘[it] proved that Carr is right in stating that the Internet influences us not positively at all’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, April 23, 2016). ‘Recent research demonstrates that the Internet is addictive,’ Boone claims (Reformatorisch Dagblad, June 8, 2011; our emphasis, LC/AP), a finding that perfectly fits his own image of human powerlessness and

124

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

inclination to sin. In the next account (Reformatorisch Dagblad, July 9, 2013) this congruence is made even more explicit: Spitzer warns […] against the mental food that the PC and TV offer our kids, such as the daily dose of sex and violence. […] The old argument, i.e., that no person is able to control the remote control, is still valid.

The cited neuroscientific findings about the Internet’s stimulation of a superficial kind of information gathering resemble conservative Protestant pessimism about the loss of deep reading. After concluding that ‘Carr argues that the way we receive information through the web changes how we process information, i.e., superficially and shallowly, which is why the web corrodes our ability to concentrate and contemplate,’ Ariese (Reformatorisch Dagblad, May 24, 2014) asks: ‘How problematic are [these findings]?’ For him the answer is straightforward: ‘God revealed himself in his Word, the written Word, which has to be read. So, for Christians, contemplation, meditating that Word, is vital.’ That ‘Carr demonstrates that our brain is changing’ is as such fully in line with conservativeProtestant media pessimism, since ‘with such an incompetent memory you cannot expect them [youngsters] to learn dogmatic pieces and verses from the Bible literally’ (Reformatorisch Dagblad, June 11, 2011). In sum, conservative Protestant commentators refer extensively to neuroscientific work to build their own arguments about digital media. However, they selectively pick up only these scientific insights that fit their religious convictions of media determinism and cultural pessimism. Other types of scholarly work are not only neglected but explicitly criticized, as can be seen from negative reviews of a volume that studies the use of digital media in the Dutch Biblebelt from a sociological approach that foregrounds interpretive agency (Pons 2014). Telling is the conclusion of De Vries that ‘the framing [of this book] needs to be discussed better […] [since] sociology seems to overrule theology’ (De Waarheidsvriend, February 6, 2015). So while conservative Protestantism accepts the scientific validity of the abovementioned neuroscientific findings at face value, it dismisses findings produced by this alternative scientific approach, because the latter is understood as contradicting its conservative theology.

5

4.3

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

125

The Worldview of Mindfulness: Becoming Your Own Therapist

Mindfulness is mostly defined as ‘paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment, and nonjudgmentally’ (Kabat-Zinn 1994). It is a form of meditation that can be practiced either in a sitting or lying posture or applied as a ‘form of awareness’ in daily activities such as ‘mindful walking,’ ‘mindful driving,’ or even ‘mindful dishwashing’ (Kabat-Zinn 1994; Segal, Williams and Teasdale 2013; Nhat Hanh 1976). By means of such mindful activities, practitioners aim to get completely ‘in the moment’ and avoid being distracted by other obligations that cause stress. Like many forms of New Age, mindfulness stems from oriental, more specifically Buddhist, spirituality (Baumann 1995; Campbell 2007; McMahan 2008). It shares with New Age not only its marked focus on the inner realm, characterized by Heelas (1996) as ‘selfspirituality,’ but also its counter-cultural suspicions of societal institutions that are deemed to cause stress, inauthenticity, and alienation (Cortois, Houtman and Aupers 2018). Mindfulness sets out against depression, anxiety, and stress. Its central question is already telling: How can I cure myself of, or weapon myself against, these conditions of the mind? External agents like doctors or medications are assumed to be unable of curing persons as passive receivers of care, but patients themselves are incited to actively take matters into their own hands and change their own mental conditions for the better. Indeed, in the mindfulness milieu the expression ‘becoming your own therapist’ (Nicolas, trainer, interview) is a mainstay, with all the individual agency attributed to mindfulness practitioners this entails. Mindfulness magazines recommend engaging with one’s own thoughts actively to overcome negative ones and regain influence over them. Mindfulness, it is repeated again and again, enable its practitioners to ‘discover deep internal resources we can make use of’ (Mindful, February 28, 2011). So in these circles individuals are not understood as determined by their thoughts and behaviors, but as capable of actively engaging with them through meditation to eventually change them for the better. As Tarchin Phillips puts it: ‘Thoughts are not facts, they can always be changed. The same holds true for attitudes and behaviors. You are not defined by your behaviors. You have the power to change your actions at any time. Choose to empower yourself with clear decisions and commitment’ (Mindful, June 15, 2016).

126

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

The interviews with mindfulness trainers also brought out the idea that mindfulness empowers the self to act on its own mental condition. Catherine, who teaches mindfulness to underprivileged and homeless people in a metropolitan context, for example, explains how mindfulness can strengthen their resilience, so that ‘they can stand in their own power’ and eventually become able to overcome their situation themselves. She says that ‘once you have the tools that have been taught to you, that eventually – and this is the empowering part – gives you back yourself, you can go your own way and are no longer dependent on caregivers.’ Bringing about independence and autonomy, in short, constitutes the central aim of mindfulness: ‘That is the essence of mindfulness: What can I do myself? How can I deal with what happens to me? If there is sorrow now, how can I deal with this sorrow? I don’t know anything that respects the individual autonomy of a person so much’ (Erik, trainer, interview). 4.4

The Elective Affinity Between Neuroscience and Mindfulness

Much like the conservative Protestant commentators discussed above, our mindfulness trainers and course participants refer extensively to neuroscientific research. Most of the trainers take such research to prove the efficacy of mindfulness and for some of them this was even decisive in starting with mindfulness themselves: ‘If it would not have been proven scientifically, I probably would never have started with it,’ trainer Annemie tells. Many of the trainers facilitate neuroscientific research, have connections with researchers and characterize mindfulness as ‘a training for the brain’ (Rose, trainer, interview). Course members also conceive of their meditation practices as a way to keep their brains healthy: ‘I got convinced scientifically that if you don’t build in enough pauses, your brain does not function optimally. And then I thought: mindfulness is probably helping me with that’ (George, course member, interview). Similarly, Leo, who suffered from a severe burnout, attributed the latter to ‘wrong connections in [his] brain’, which motivated him to start with mindfulness in an attempt to create new brain connections and get rid of negative thinking patterns: ‘I really went there with the scientific attitude: […] “That brain is not going to mess with me! I will make new circuits!”’ (Leo, course member, interview). Books and magazines that are popular in the mindfulness subculture also boast notions of taking charge of one’s own brain. Examples include bestsellers like Sam Harris’ Waking Up: Science, Skepticism, Spirituality

5

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

127

(2015) and articles in popular magazine Mindful with titles like ‘Rewiring Your Emotions,’ ‘5 Ways to Nourish Your Brain,’ or ‘Meditators Have a Younger Brain.’ An article in Mindful magazine about the latest research findings exemplifies how the tenets of freedom and autonomy that are so central to the worldview of mindfulness spark an obsession with improving one’s brain through meditation. In it Kelly McGonigal highlights ‘that mindfulness meditation offers freedom for people with anxiety, in part by changing the way the brain responds to negative thoughts’ (Mindful, December 6, 2010; our emphasis, LC/AP). Jennifer Wolkin refers to the same optimistic belief in self-induced neuronal change as ‘something each of us can do to help our brains stay vital’ (Mindful, April 20, 2016). Indeed, mindfulness magazines feature hardly any articles without such references to the possibility of improving the functioning of the brain through meditation. What is invoked here is basically the same notion of neuroplasticity that is also central to conservative Protestant discourse about the harmfulness of digital media. Here it is however not understood as implying that humans are determined by their environment, but rather as enabling ‘change how you respond emotionally to the ups and downs of life,’ which comes down to the possibility of self-governance: ‘[Mindfulness] identifies the brain activity underlying an emotional trait you wish to change, such as a tendency to dwell in anger, and then targets this brain activity with mental exercises designed to alter it. The result is a healthier “emotional style,” as Davidson calls it’ (Mindful, July 27, 2013). Here the brain is hence held to be changeable for the better by means of meditation by meditators themselves: ‘The key is to create a new daily routine that will allow you to build alternative neural pathways in your brain and exit the neural superhighway of mind wandering and mental time traveling’ (Mindful, June 1, 2017). This allegedly results in ‘real visible changes in the structure of the brain’ that makes the brain ‘better at doing whatever you’ve asked it to do’ (Mindful, December 6, 2010; our emphasis, LC/AP). Neuroplasticity, to sum up, is here understood as the ability to improve one’s own brain, which reflects the central importance the worldview of mindfulness attributes to agency, autonomy, and personal empowerment. Like in the case of conservative Protestantism discussed above, then, here too interest in neuroscience can be understood from the latter’s elective affinity with the worldview at stake.

128

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

5

Conclusion

The contrasting appropriations of neuroscience by conservative Protestantism and mindfulness followers can be understood from the central tenets of the two worldviews and the different elective affinities these give rise to. Conservative Protestantism understands humans as sinful by nature, so as unable to resist the world’s seductions and susceptible to harmful social influences. This informs an interest in neuroscientific evidence that suggests that modern media damage the functioning of the brain. Mindfulness, on the other hand, understands human beings as endowed with an inner power they can draw on to escape negative external influences and to improve their own mental condition. This understanding of human nature directs their interest toward neuroscientific studies about how the brain can be rewired and improved. Hence, while both worldviews invoke a marked interest in neuroplasticity, i.e., the changeability of the human brain, their deep-rooted and contrasting beliefs about human nature invoke contrasting understandings of whether this condition is harmful or beneficial, a problem to be contained or an opportunity to be pursued. This directs the two subcultures to particular types of scientific insights rather than others, steering their neuroscientific interests in different directions. Compared to accounts of religious interest in science as a mere instrumental quest for self-legitimation (Lewis 2011; Hammer and Lewis 2011), we believe that an analysis in terms of elective affinities between religion and science has two major strengths. Firstly, the former easily reduces the religious interest in scientific evidence toward the discussion whether or not ‘real’ science is involved (e.g., Hammer 2002; Hersch 2011), thereby obscuring the cultural dynamics behind the appropriation of particular scientific insights. Our more cultural-sociological approach prevents the risk of reproducing overly simplistic modern accounts of science and religion as essentially incompatible. It does so by addressing the subtle dynamics of attraction and repulsion between religious worldviews and scientific insights. A second strength of the approach pursued in this chapter is that it enables to go beyond the all-too general notion that religious groups are ‘ambivalent’ toward science. It does so by tracing selective religious appropriations of science to the central tenets of religious worldviews rather than dismissing them as mere legitimation strategies. This yields a more empirically nuanced understanding of how and why well-defined religious groups are receptive to particular types of

5

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

129

scientific evidence or discourse, while being less interested, perhaps even dismissive, of others. While this study has remained limited to positive affinities between religion and science, to be sure, it nevertheless gives some hints about negative ones, too. Our findings lead us to expect, for instance, that conservative Protestantism will be less interested in, arguably skeptical about, constructivist and world-affirming approaches in the social sciences that endow humans with interpretive agency. The other way around, mindfulness practitioners are likely to be either not interested in or skeptical about research that downplays human agency and changeability, e.g., research that reveals detrimental side-effects of meditation in treatments of trauma. More generally speaking, our cultural-sociological approach opens up a whole field of research that extends beyond the appropriation of neuroscience by conservative Protestantism and mindfulness. It is not only promising for the study of relations between other types of religion and science, but also for the study of trust and distrust in science in non-religious subcultures.

Notes 1. We define spirituality as a type of ‘religion’ in of itself, albeit with understandings of the sacred and the path to religious salvation that differ profoundly from traditional Christian religion. 2. This interpretation of elective affinity, which remains a conceptually underdeveloped notion in Weber’s work, and which he only uses in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism and in some of his letters, is based on the reference of most of the secondary literature to its use in the work of Goethe (Howe 1978; Löwy 1992; McKinnon 2010). Goethe’s novel The Elective Affinities (1994) refers to an outdated chemical theory that posited that some elements are attracted to others on the basis of an elective affinity to automatically form new combinations. Goethe applies this to romantic relations developing unpredictably between his four protagonists on the basis of their elective affinity.

References Baumann, Martin. 1995. “Creating a European Path to Nirvana: Historical and Contemporary Developments of Buddhism in Europe.” Journal of Contemporary Religion 10 (1): 55–70.

130

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

Berger, Peter L. 1990 [1969]. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion. New York: Bantam Doubleday. Bruce, Steve. 2002. God is Dead: Secularization in the West. Oxford: Blackwell. Campbell, Colin. 2007. The Easternization of the West: A Thematic Account of Cultural Change in the Modern Era. Boulder: Paradigm. Cortois, Liza, Dick Houtman, and Stef Aupers. 2018. “The Naked Truth: Mindfulness and the Purification of Religion.” Journal of Contemporary Religion 33 (2): 303–17. Dericquebourg, Regis. 2011. “Legitimizing Belief through the Authority of Science: The Case of the Church of Scientology.” In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, edited by James R. Lewis and Olav Hammer, 741–62. Leiden: Brill. Ellison, Christopher G., and Marc A. Musick. 1995. “Conservative Protestantism and Public Opinion toward Science.” Review of Religious Research 36 (3): 245–62. Evans, John H. 2013. “The Growing Social and Moral Conflict between Conservative Protestantism and Science.” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 52 (2): 368– 85. Hammer, Olav. 2002. Claiming Knowledge: Strategies of Epistemology from Theosophy to the New Age. Leiden: Brill. Hammer, Olav, and James R. Lewis. 2011. “Introduction.” In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, edited by James R. Lewis and Olav Hammer, 23–40. Leiden: Brill. Hanegraaff, Wouter. 1996. New Age Religion and Western Culture: Esotericism in the Mirror of Secular Thought. Leiden: Brill. Heelas, Paul. 1996. The New Age Movement: The Celebration of the Self and the Sacralization of Modernity. Oxford: Blackwell. Heelas, Paul, and Linda Woodhead. 2005. The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion Is Giving Way to Spirituality. Oxford: Blackwell. Hersch, Carie L. 2011. “Fighting Science with Science: At Pat Robertson’s Christian Broadcasting Network.” In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, edited by James R. Lewis and Olav Hammer, 513–48. Leiden: Brill. Howe, Richard. 1978. “Max Weber’s Elective Affinities: Sociology within the Bounds of Pure Reason.” American Journal of Sociology 84 (2): 366–85. Humes, Cynthia Ann. 2011. “The Transcendental Meditation Organization and Its Encounter with Science.” In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, edited by James R. Lewis and Olav Hammer, 345–70. Leiden: Brill. Janse, Chris S.L. 1985. Bewaar het pand: De spanning tussen assimilatie en persistentie bij de emancipatie van de bevindelijk gereformeerden [Preserve the Collateral: The Tension between Assimilation and Persistence in the Emancipation of the Conservative Reformed]. Houten: Den Hertog.

5

ELECTIVE AFFINITIES BETWEEN RELIGION …

131

Joseph, Rhawn. 2001. “The Limbic System and the Soul: Evolution and the Neuroanatomy of Religious Experience.” Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science 36 (1): 105–36. Kabat-Zinn, John. 1994. Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain, and Illness. New York: Delta Trade Paperbacks. Lewis, James R. 2011. “How Religions Appeal to the Authority of Science.” In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, edited by James R. Lewis and Olav Hammer, 23–40. Leiden: Brill. Lewis, James R., and Olav Hammer, eds. 2011. Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science. Leiden: Brill. Löwy, Michaël. 1992. Redemption and Utopia. Cambridge MA: MIT Press. McKinnon, Andrew. 2010. “Elective Affinities of the Protestant Ethic: Weber and the Chemistry of Capitalism.” Sociological Theory 28 (1): 108–26. McMahan, David L. 2008. The Making of a Buddhist Modernism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. McMahan, David L. 2011. “Buddhism as the ‘Religion of Science’: From Colonial Ceylon to the Laboratories of Harvard.” In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, edited by James R. Lewis and Olav Hammer, 117–40. Leiden: Brill. Nhat Hanh, Thich. 1976. The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation. Boston: Beacon Press. Numbers, Ronald L. 2006. The Creationists: From Scientific Creationism to Intelligent Design. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Otten, Myrta, and Jos de Haan. 2014. “Uitzendinggemist mag wél.” [Netflix is OK!]. In Biblebelt online: Bevindelijk gereformeerden en nieuwe media [Biblebelt Online: The Conservative Reformed and New Media], edited by Anneke Pons, 165–86. Apeldoorn: Labarum Academic. Pels, Peter. 2012. “The Modern Fear of Matter: Reflections on the Protestantism of Victorian Science.” In Things: Religion and the Question of Materiality, edited by Dick Houtman and Birgit Meyer, 26–39. New York: Fordham University Press. Polderman, C.P. 1996. Kerk en wereld: Een studie over gereformeerden en hun uiteenlopende relaties met televisie in het licht van politiek, cultuur en theologie [Church and World: A Study of the Reformed and Their Variegated Relations with Television in the Light of Politics, Culture, and Theology]. Leiden: Groen. Pons, Anneke. 2014. Biblebelt Online: Bevindelijk gereformeerden en nieuwe media. [Biblebelt Online: The Conservative Reformed and New Media], Apeldoorn: Labarum Academic. Ramachandran, Vilayanur. 1998. “The Neural Basis of Religious Experience.” Society for Neuroscience Abstracts 23: 519.

132

L. CORTOIS AND A. PONS-DE WIT

Ratcliffe, Matthew. 2003. “Scientific Naturalism and the Neurology of Religious Experience.” Religious Studies 39 (3): 323–45. Segal, Zindel, J. Marc Williams, and John Teasdale. 2013. Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy for Depression. New York: The Guilford Press. Setton, Damián. 2011. “The Use of Medicinal Legitimations in the Construction of Religious Practice: The Dietary Laws of Judaism.” In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, edited by James R. Lewis and Olav Hammer, 441–52. Leiden: Brill. Soen, Shaku. 1913. Zen for Americans: Including the Sutra of Forty-Two Chapters. New York: Barnes & Noble Books. Turner, Bryan S. 2007. “Religious Authority and the New Media.” Theory, Culture & Society 24 (2): 117–34. Weber, Max. 1971 [1922]. The Sociology of Religion. Boston: Beacon Press. Weber, Max. 1978 [1905]. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. London: George Allen and Unwin. Williams, Marc, and John Kabat-Zinn. 2011. “Mindfulness: Diverse Perspectives on Its Meaning, Origins, and Multiple Applications at the Intersection of Science and Dharma.” Contemporary Buddhism 12 (1): 1–18. Winkelman, Michael. 2002. “Shamanism as Neurotheology and Evolutionary Psychology.” American Behavioral Scientist 45 (12): 1875–87. Wisse, Maarten. 2007. “God op het hoogst verheerlijkt en de mens op het diepst vernederd: Bevindelijk gereformeerden als volgelingen van Augustinus.” [God Glorified Highest and Man Humiliated Deepest: The Conservative Reformed as Followers of Augustinus]. In Refogeschiedenis in perspectief: Opstellen over de bevindelijke traditie [Refo History in Perspective: Essays on the Conservative Reformed Tradition], edited by Fred van Lieburg, 182–204. Heerenveen: Groen.

CHAPTER 6

Cultural Worldviews and Lay Interpretations of Research Findings: The Role of the Scientific Consensus Paul Tromp and Peter Achterberg

1

Introduction

The less scientific facts align with people’s preexisting cultural worldviews, the less likely they are to accept them as authoritative. This notion is not only central to contemporary theories about ‘motivated reasoning’ and ‘confirmation bias,’ but also to Emile Durkheim’s classical sociology of religion and culture (1995 [1912]; Durkheim and Mauss 1963 [1903]). The latter lies at the basis of a long-standing and established research tradition on culture and cognition (e.g., Brekhus 2015), with many offshoots in communication science and psychology as well as cultural sociology. According to this Durkheimian tradition cultural worldviews do as ‘social facts’ guide people’s feelings, thoughts, and cognitions in a

P. Tromp (B) Centre for Sociological Research, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] P. Achterberg Department of Sociology, Tilburg University, Tilburg, The Netherlands © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_6

133

134

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

pre-reflexive fashion, operating ‘behind their backs’ so to say (Houtman and Achterberg 2016). In this chapter, we apply this Durkheimian logic to lay interpretations of scientific research findings. We first discuss studies that demonstrate its empirical validity to then point out that science is of course more than a mere collection of isolated research findings, namely, a rational debate between researchers, driven by skepticism, doubt, and critique. Whether or not new research findings contradict or confirm the scientific consensus is thus likely to make quite a difference to how they are interpreted. Elaborating on this question, we extend an experimental study by Corbett and Durfee (2004), which does pay attention to the scientific consensus in lay interpretations of research findings, yet fails to systematically address the role of cultural worldviews in doing so. This is odd and not without problems because there are no good reasons to assume that perceptions of the scientific consensus are immune to cultural biases stemming from cultural worldviews. Like this previous study by Corbett and Durfee (2004), we more specifically address lay interpretations of findings from climate science, a field that is central to today’s conflicts about the authority of science (see Chapter 1) and that does as such constitute an ideal case.

2 The Role of Cultural Worldviews in Interpreting Scientific Certainty 2.1

The Role of Cultural Worldviews

Research on science communication has traditionally assumed that science skepticism among lay audiences can be countered by providing ‘correct’ information. This is informed by the so-called ‘information deficit model,’ which can be defined in terms of two interlocking beliefs (Dickson 2005, 2): The first is the idea that public scepticism towards modern science and technology is caused primarily by a lack of adequate knowledge about science. Related to this is the idea that, by providing sufficient information about modern science and technology to overcome this lack of knowledge – or ‘knowledge deficit’ – the public will change its mind and decide that both science and the technology that emerges from it are ‘good things.’

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

135

While knowledge surely remains an important determinant of attitudes toward science (Sturgis and Allum 2004), this model is nonetheless quite unrealistic from a cultural–sociological point of view and has been critiqued for its overly simplistic assumptions (Achterberg et al. 2010). It has over the years particularly been critiqued for neglecting that people with distinct cultural worldviews tend to respond differently to the same information (e.g., Nisbet and Mooney 2007). This idea that people’s opinions are in effect outcomes of marriages between facts and cultural worldviews (Zaller 1992) resonates strongly in cultural sociology (e.g., DiMaggio 1997; Houtman and Achterberg 2016) and communication science (Chong and Druckman 2007; Nisbet and Mooney 2007; De Koster et al. 2014). Path-breaking work by Douglas and Wildavsky (1982) understands risk perceptions regarding technology and the natural environment as shaped and informed by cultural worldviews, with individuals forming risk perceptions that reflect and reinforce their idealized ways of life, i.e., the ways their ideal societies are organized. Consequently, whether individuals accept or reject claims about risk is held to be contingent upon whether the latter either challenge or confirm their cultural worldview (see also De Meere 1996). The same logic applies to interpretations of scientific research findings and truth claims. Contingent upon their cultural worldviews, people perceive and interpret research findings differently, they are eager to embrace particular types of assertions, while remaining skeptical toward others (Tiemeijer and De Jonge 2013). This aligns with ‘motivated reasoning theory’ which predicts a ‘systematic biasing of judgements in favor of one’s immediate accessible beliefs and feelings’ (Lodge and Taber 2013, 24). Informed by the work of Douglas and Wildavsky (1982), Kahan, Jenkins-Smith and Braman (2011) have proposed a distinction between two ideal–typical cultural groups that differ in terms of their worldview. The groups are labeled ‘egalitarian communitarians,’ i.e., those embracing a worldview according to which inequality is unfair so that combatting it constitutes a collective responsibility, and ‘hierarchical individualists,’ according to whom social inequality is just, fair, and to a certain degree inevitable, so that individuals are responsible for taking care of themselves. Those who embrace either of these worldviews tend to disagree with those who accept the alternative one on a vast number of societal issues, not least issues relating to science, technology, and the environment:

136

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

Persons whose values are relatively hierarchical and individualistic will […] be skeptical of environmental risks, the widespread acceptance of which would justify restricting commerce and industry, activities that people with these values prize; persons with more egalitarian and communitarian values, in contrast, resent commerce and industry as forms of noxious self-seeking productive of unjust disparity, and thus readily accept that such activities are dangerous and worthy of regulation (Kahan, Jenkins-Smith and Braman 2011, 148).

In their study they test whether these two worldviews do indeed shape perceptions of the scientific consensus about global warming. They hypothesize and confirm that confronted with information that risks of global warming are high, egalitarian communitarians agree much more often than hierarchical individualists that this information is to be trusted. The other way around, confronted with information that such risks are low, hierarchical individualists much more often than egalitarian communitarians deem it trustworthy. These findings confirm that the worldviews of egalitarian communitarians and hierarchical individualists inform a sort of prior (un)certainty about global warming so that if levels of communicated risk are inconsistent with the latter the message is taken to be untrustworthy. Hierarchical individualists do in effect perceive more scientific disagreement about climate issues and tend not to believe that climate change is caused by human intervention, while egalitarian communitarians perceive a marked consensus about this. While these studies show how cultural worldviews affect the way people perceive technological risks and (findings from) climate science, they fail to address the influence of the wider scientific context on the interpretation of new research findings, i.e., whether or not the latter contradict the scientific consensus. This question is central to an experimental study by Corbett and Durfee (2004). Central to their experiment is a news report about new research findings according to which polar ice is getting thicker rather than thinner. This news report is presented to respondents under experimental conditions pertaining to whether or not it sits easily with the scientific consensus about the actual occurrence of global warming. They operationalize the latter using two sets of experimental conditions. The first is whether or not the new finding is disputed by other scientists (‘controversy’); the second is whether or not it is compatible with the scientific consensus after all (‘reconciliation’).

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

137

After they read the news report respondents were asked to rate the scientific certainty of actually occurring climate change, which resulted in clear differences across the experimental conditions. The scientific certainty of actually occurring climate change was rated higher if the finding of polar ice getting thicker rather than thinner had been presented as either disputed by other scientists or as compatible with the scientific consensus of actually occurring climate change after all. Corbett and Durfee’s study set out to address the influence of the scientific consensus within which new research findings are launched per se, so without taking the role of cultural worldviews into account. Yet, their study yields indications that people with distinct cultural worldviews respond differently to scientific consensus. More specifically, they find that the strengths of at least some of the effects of their experimental conditions are dependent on respondents’ endorsements or rejections of what they call a ‘pro-environmental ideology.’ This is something Corbett and Durfee neither expected nor theorized about and do in effect not pay much attention to either so that it remains unclear what effects they have found exactly. Indeed, their conclusion remains quite obscure and overly cautious, too: ‘ideology […] may play a role in how a reader interprets scientific uncertainty in relation to environmental issues such as climate change’ (Corbett and Durfee 2004, 142; our emphasis, PT/PA). In a later article about the same study, they do not even mention these unexpected, untheorized, and unclear findings at all anymore (Durfee and Corbett 2005).1 Yet, their study suggests that cultural worldviews do not only affect perceptions of research findings, but even whether or not the latter are at odds with the scientific consensus. To study systematically whether such is indeed the case, we replicate their study in what follows and extend it by explicitly taking the role of cultural worldviews into account. 2.2

Hypotheses

Our Durkheimian theory that cultural worldviews drive perceptions of research findings informs four hypotheses. The first and most basic one is that hierarchical individualism (as opposed to egalitarian communitarianism) leads to less certainty about the actual occurrence of global warming, irrespective of whether the new finding does or does not fit in with the scientific consensus (Hypothesis 1).

138

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

We operationalize the scientific consensus using three sets of experimental conditions, the first two identical to the ones used by Corbett and Durfee (2004). As indicated above, these are ‘controversy’ (whether or not the news report invokes competing scientific evidence that suggests that the ice sheet is becoming thinner rather than thicker after all) and ‘reconciliation’ (whether or not the news report explains that a thickening ice sheet does not necessarily contradict the occurrence of climate change). We add ‘information source’ as a third experimental operationalization of scientific consensus to these two by Corbett and Durfee (2004). This third condition refers to whether the scientists who report the unexpected finding work for either a university or an oil company, the latter giving less reason to question the scientific consensus than the former. Unlike Corbett and Durfee (2004) we are not primarily interested in the influence of scientific consensus per se. Our interest is rather in whether this affects certainty about the actual occurrence of global warming differently for egalitarian communitarians and hierarchical individualists. Our Durkheimian theory suggests that such is the case because egalitarian communitarians are more likely than hierarchical individualists to welcome indications that the new finding may be untrustworthy in the light of the scientific consensus and does as such not need to be taken very seriously. Our theory thus predicts that such indications increase certainty about the actual occurrence of global warming among egalitarian communitarians, but not among hierarchical individualists. More specifically, we expect that ‘controversy’ (Hypothesis 2), ‘reconciliation’ (Hypothesis 3), and researchers working for an oil company rather than a university (Hypothesis 4) increase certainty about the actual occurrence of climate change among egalitarian communitarians, but not among hierarchical individualists. Technically speaking, we thus expect cultural worldviews to play a ‘moderating’ role that shows up as an interaction effect with consensus.

3 Data Collection, Operationalization, and Method 3.1

Data Collection

While Corbett and Durfee (2004) used a convenience sample of 209 US undergraduate communication students, we have aimed for a more culturally and politically heterogeneous sample with more variation in cultural

6

139

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

worldviews. We have done so by recruiting respondents online through posting our questionnaire on various Dutch online discussion forums and Facebook groups and pages, including many that were completely unrelated to the topic under study. Respondents came from all over the Netherlands, were of all ages and educational levels, and had a variety of interests.2 We have built the questionnaire with Qualtrics and respondents could access it through a unique URL. Qualtrics was also used to keep track of the number of responses and all questionnaires completed in less than three minutes were deleted immediately.3 Data collection started on May 13, 2016, and ended two weeks later when the sample was sufficiently large to detect small increases in explained variance for the main and interaction effects with 80 percent power. As the survey was not administered in English, one author translated Corbett and Durfee’s news reports into Dutch and the other subsequently reviewed the translation. The English translations of our Dutch news reports can be found in Appendix 1 and the original ones in Corbett and Durfee (2004, 145–148).4 Participants were randomly assigned to one of the eight different news reports that our three binary experimental conditions gave rise to (2 × 2 × 2 = 8) (see Table 1). After they had read the vignette with the news report, respondents were asked for their (dis)agreement with two statements about it, followed by twelve statements to measure egalitarian communitarianism— hierarchical individualism. Finally, they were asked to indicate their age, gender, and educational level. Table 1 Treatments

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Experimental design with three treatment conditions Controversy (no = 0; yes = 1)

Reconciliation (no = 0; yes = 1)

0 0 0 0 1 1 1 1

0 0 1 1 0 0 1 1

Information source N in survey (university = 0; oil company = 1) 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1

29 22 26 28 30 31 25 25

140

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

To check whether the treatment conditions had indeed been successfully randomly assigned we compared the mean scores for egalitarian communitarianism—hierarchical individualism across the eight treatments and also computed correlations between the three pairs of treatment conditions and egalitarian communitarianism—hierarchical individualism. These analyses confirmed that the treatments had been randomly assigned and had not influenced the cultural worldviews measured thereafter. 3.2

Operationalization

Treatment Conditions: News Reports About a New Research Finding All respondents read a news report titled ‘West Antarctic Ice Sheet Thickening, Scientists Say’ that ‘cast[s] doubt on the speed with which global warming might be felt in the reaches of the southern hemisphere’ (Corbett and Durfee 2004, 145). For the experimental condition ‘controversy’ we then either added or omitted an additional paragraph that pointed out that Oxford and Cambridge scientists disagreed with the claim of the ice-thickening study by arguing instead that the ice sheet in Antarctica is rapidly thinning due to global warming. For ‘reconciliation’ we either added or omitted a paragraph according to which the global scientific community is in agreement that the earth has warmed significantly over the last decades, yet is uncertain about where and how soon the effects of climate change will manifest themselves. For the experimental condition ‘information source,’ finally, the report maintained either that the ice-thickening study had been conducted by university scientists (we used Harvard University) or by scientists who work for an oil company (we used Royal Dutch Shell) (see Appendix 1 for the full news reports). Dependent Variable Two statements adopted from Corbett and Durfee (2004) measure respondents’ certainty about the actual occurrence of climate change according to the news article they have read: ‘According to this news report, global warming is a scientific certainty’ and ‘In this article, scientists are unsure whether global climate change is occurring.’ Responses to the two statements are measured by means of five-point Likert scales ranging from 1 (‘strongly agree’) to 5 (‘strongly disagree’). Responses to the first statement have been reversed so that for both statements

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

141

high scores reflect scientific certainty about climate change. Finally, mean scores on the two items have been assigned to all respondents. Remaining Independent Variables Twelve statements adopted from Kahan, Jenkins-Smith and Braman (2011) measure respondents’ position on the egalitarian communitarianism—hierarchical individualism continuum. This twelve-item scale, used in most studies by Kahan and associates, is a reliable short version of the full scale that consists of no less than thirty items. Dutch translations of the twelve statements were adopted from Tiemeijer and De Jonge (2013, 53–54) and were introduced as follows: ‘People in our society often disagree about how far to let individuals go in making decisions for themselves. How strongly do you agree or disagree with each of these statements?’ Subsequently, three statements measuring individualism and three measuring communitarianism were presented (in the order in which they are presented in Table 2). Then, on the next page of the questionnaire, respondents first read ‘People in our society often disagree about issues of equality and discrimination. How strongly do you agree or disagree with each of these statements?’ and were then presented three statements about hierarchism and three about egalitarianism (again in the order in which they are presented in Table 2). All twelve responses have been measured on a five-point Likert scale ranging from 1 (‘strongly disagree’) to 5 (‘strongly agree’). A common factor analysis was conducted on the twelve items, the results of which are presented in Table 2.5 All twelve items have high loadings on the first factor, positive ones for the items indicating hierarchism and individualism and negative ones for the items indicating egalitarianism and communitarianism. After reversing the response options of the latter a reliability analysis corroborated that the twelve items can be combined into a reliable scale that cannot be improved any further by deleting one of the items (Cronbach’s α = 0.80). Finally, scale scores were assigned as means to all those with valid scores on at least ten of the twelve items, yielding a scale that ranges from 1 (‘egalitarian communitarianism’) to 5 (‘hierarchical individualism’). Control Variables Finally, we control the effects of the independent variables on scientific certainty for age, gender, and education. For age, the respondent’s birth year was subtracted from 2016, and gender was coded as 1 (‘male’) or

142

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

Table 2 Factor loadings of twelve items measuring hierarchical individualism versus egalitarian communitarianism (N = 216; principal axis factoring without rotation)a Items • The government interferes far too much in our everyday lives. (I) • Sometimes government needs to make laws that keep people from hurting themselves. (C) • It’s not the government’s business to try to protect people from themselves. (I) • The government should stop telling people how to live their lives. (I) • The government should do more to advance society’s goals, even if that means limiting the freedom and choices of individuals. (C) • Government should put limits on the choices individuals can make so they don’t get in the way of what’s good for society. (C) • We have gone too far in pushing equal rights in this country. (H) • Our society would be better off if the distribution of wealth was more equal. (E) • We need to dramatically reduce inequalities between the rich and the poor, whites and people of color, and men and women. (E) • Discrimination against minorities is still a very serious problem in our society. (E) • It seems like blacks, women, homosexuals, and other groups don’t want equal rights, they want special rights just for them. (H) • Society as a whole has become too soft and feminine. (H) Eigenvalue R2

Factor 1

Factor 2

Factor 3

0.63 −0.38

−0.40

0.42 0.52

0.45

−0.53

−0.46

0.34

−0.35

−0.38

0.30

−0.50

0.45

0.46

−0.64

0.48

0.36

−0.52

0.34

0.57

0.52

0.33

0.61

0.38

3.77 0.31

1.98 0.17

1.38 0.12

a Factor loadings with absolute values below 0.30 have been suppressed; items marked H indicate

hierarchism, I individualism, E egalitarianism, and C communitarianism

0 (‘female’). Fifteen categories for current or highest completed education were adopted from the Netherlands Longitudinal Lifecourse Study (NELLS) (Tolsma et al. 2014, 77) and subsequently recoded into a continuous variable ranging from 1 (‘no education’) to 12 (‘PhD’).6 Descriptive statistics for all variables can be found in Table 3. The final analyses are performed on 216 respondents.

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

Table 3

Descriptive statistics for the variables in the analysis

Variables

N

Minimum

216

1

216 216 216 216

0 0 0 1

212 214 215

18 0 1

Dependent variable Scientific certainty Independent variables Controversy Reconciliation Scientists from oil company Hierarchical individualism (HI) Control variables Age Male Educational level

3.3

Maximum

143

M

SD

5

2.89

1.01

1 1 1 4.33

0.51 0.48 0.49 2.66

0.63

87 1 12

42.63 0.61 9.11

16.59 2.03

Method

We perform multiple linear regression analyses to test our hypotheses. Model 1 only includes the three news report characteristics that constitute the treatment conditions, i.e., ‘controversy,’ ‘reconciliation,’ and ‘information source.’ Then, in order to test our four hypotheses, we extend Model 1 by adding hierarchical individualism and its interactions with the news report characteristics, which results in Model 2. Prior to computing these interaction terms, we have centered controversy, reconciliation, information source, and hierarchical individualism so as to make the intercepts meaningfully interpretable. As neither age nor gender or educational level proved to have a significant effect in any of our models, we have excluded these control variables from our final analyses so as to estimate more parsimonious models.

4

Results

From the results presented in Table 4, three lessons can be learned. Firstly, regardless of the news report they have evaluated, hierarchical individualists are indeed less certain about climate change than egalitarian communitarians and the difference is quite substantial. This finding confirms Hypothesis 1 and supports the theory. Secondly, ‘controversy’ does not affect respondents’ certainty about the actual occurrence of climate change. So it makes no difference whether or not a news report is ‘balanced’ by adding competing evidence according to which the ice

144

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

Table 4 Multiple linear regression with scientific certainty as dependent variable (N = 216)a Model 1 Independent variables Treatment conditions Controversy Reconciliation Scientists from oil company Cultural worldview Hierarchical individualism (HI) Interaction effects Controversy x HI Reconciliation x HI Scientists from oil company x HI Intercept R2 change

Model 2 β

SE

−0.07 0.58*** 0.31*

0.13 0.13 0.13

−0.03 −0.05 0.13 −0.02 0.29 0.59*** 0.13 0.29 0.16 0.31* 0.13 0.15

−0.23*

0.10

−0.15 −0.25**

2.89*** 0.14***

0.06

B

−0.34* −0.57** −0.09 2.87*** 0.04***

SE

β

B

0.10 −0.15 0.21 −0.11 0.21 −0.18 0.20 −0.03 0.06

a One-tailed tests for hypothesized effects, two-tailed ones for all others (***p < 0.001, **p < 0.01,

*p < 0.05)

sheet is rapidly thinning due to global warming rather than becoming thicker. ‘Reconciliation,’ i.e., explaining that the latter can happen even in the face of actually occurring climate change, does however make our respondents much more certain about the occurrence of global warming (see Model 1). These findings are identical to those of Corbett and Durfee (2004), who also find an effect for ‘reconciliation’ only. Thirdly, and more importantly, egalitarian communitarians and hierarchical individualists do indeed respond differently to controversy and reconciliation, because both lead to more certainty about the actual occurrence of climate change among the egalitarian communitarians, but not among the hierarchical individualists (see Model 2). While the two cultural groups do not differ much in their certainty about global warming when controversy and reconciliation are absent from the news report, the gap between them widens significantly if these two characteristics are added. This applies especially to reconciliation, mostly due to egalitarian communitarians becoming much more certain about the occurrence of climate change in response to it (see Figure 1). In response to controversy, the gap between the two cultural groups also widens substantially, albeit somewhat less than in response

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

145

Scientific certainty climate change

5.00 4.50

4.07

4.00 3.50 3.00

Egal. Comm. 2.63

Hier. Indiv.

2.50 2.54 2.00

2.27

1.50 1.00 No Reconciliation

Reconciliation

Fig. 1 Interaction effect between reconciliation and hierarchical individualism— egalitarian communitarianism

to reconciliation. Here the widening of the gap is due to both a diminishment of certainty among the hierarchical individualists and its increase among their egalitarian communitarian counterparts (see Figure 2). These findings convincingly confirm Hypotheses 2 and 3. Hypothesis 4 could however not be corroborated, because egalitarian communitarians do not become more certain about climate change in response to the ice-thickening finding being reported by scientists working for an oil company rather than a university. The effect that we find runs in the predicted direction, to be sure, but is not strong enough to attain statistical significance. So what we find is that both cultural groups become more certain about climate change in response to the information that the ice-thickening study had been conducted by scientists from an oil company rather than a university. While this is not what our theory predicted, it is clearly not a pattern completely reverse to it either, which would really call our theory into question.7 Overall, then, our findings strongly support our theory.

146

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

Scientiϐic certainty climate change

5.00 4.50 4.00

3.53

3.50

3.01

Egal. Comm. Hier. Indiv.

3.00 2.78

2.50 2.00

2.15

1.50 1.00 No Controversy

Controversy

Fig. 2 Interaction effect between controversy and hierarchical individualism— egalitarian communitarianism

5

Conclusion and Discussion

We have studied whether their cultural worldviews lead lay audiences to take findings from scientific research more or less seriously. More specifically, we have examined whether hierarchical individualists and egalitarian communitarians respond differently to a news report about new and unexpected research findings related to climate change, namely, that polar ice is actually getting thicker rather than thinner. We have paid particular attention to whether the two cultural groups respond differently to suggestions that the new finding is either compatible or incompatible with the scientific consensus about the actual occurrence of climate change. Like those of Cortois and Pons-de Wit (Chapter 5), our findings do thus provide strong support for the theory that cultural worldviews matter a lot when it comes to endowing scientific truth claims with authority rather than neglecting or dismissing them. We base our findings on a relatively small convenience sample from the Netherlands, surely not representative for the latter, let alone for other western countries. Yet, we have only tested for the presence of a theoretically expected mechanism, an endeavor that is logically speaking not affected by the distributions of either worldviews or beliefs about climate change. So while it is surely possible, and also

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

147

advisable, to replicate our study in different cultural contexts, we have no reason to expect that to lead to different findings. Providing information about the scientific consensus about climate change increases perceptions of the latter’s scientific certainty, but especially so among egalitarian communitarians. Such information may go in one ear and out the other for hierarchical individualists, or indeed make them even more skeptical about climate change than they normally already are. Yet, obviously much depends on how the scientific consensus about climate change is brought across. While hierarchical individualists may not be very concerned about a melting ice sheet or the polar bear becoming extinct, they will probably be more worried if they are told that climate change ‘could wreck the global economy’ (Worland 2015), ‘worsen air pollution and help the spread of infectious diseases’ (Fox 2017), ‘cut into the global food supply’ (Goldenberg 2014), or ‘is behind the surge of migrants to Europe’ (Baker 2015). Needless to say, the Durkheimian theory that we tested and confirmed in this chapter is also relevant for public debates and controversies about the authority of scientific truth claims beyond the issue of climate change. Examples are evolution theory, the flat earth hypothesis, or most recently, the potential dangers of e-cigarette use, for all of which we can theorize about who accepts or rejects what types of truth claims and why. An excellent example is the measles, mumps, and rubella (MMR) vaccine controversy that was initiated by the publication of a flawed research paper in The Lancet linking MMR vaccination to the development of autism spectrum disorders. Media communication about this controversial finding led to declines in vaccination rates that sparked outbreaks of disease with serious injuries and even deaths. Despite the scientific consensus that there is no link between MMR vaccination and the development of autism, yet completely consistent with our findings in this chapter, ‘there is no guarantee that debunking the original study is going to sway all parents’ (Montreal Gazette 2011). We could not agree more: there will always be cultural worldviews around that lead people to reject information provided by scientific experts. Acknowledgments The authors would like to thank all the other contributors to this book for their valuable feedback on this chapter. We would also like to thank Julia B. Corbett and Jessica L. Durfee for answering our request to send us their original questionnaire.

148

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

Notes 1. It remains perfectly unclear why they have decided to include ‘proenvironmental ideology’ in their analysis in the first place because they explain that the aim of their study is to study merely ‘whether readers assessments of the certainty of scientific findings depend on characteristics of news stories’ (Corbett and Durfee 2004, 129). Yet, they do test for interaction effects and find this ‘pro-environmental ideology’ to interact with their experimental conditions. This means that responses to these conditions depend on whether one endorses or rejects this ideology, i.e., that people with different cultural worldviews respond differently to the various types of news reports used. Because it does unfortunately not become clear either what exactly the interaction effect(s) they find look(s) like, there are ample reasons to replicate and theoretically elaborate their study. 2. A complete list of these forums, groups, and pages, as well as information about how they have been selected, can be obtained from the first author, just like two requests we used, one to ask moderators permission to post the questionnaire on their forum and the other to invite forum members to participate in our survey. 3. It took the first author four minutes to read through the shortest news report and the subsequent questions without really thinking about appropriate answers. Taking into account that some people read and comprehend faster than the first author, the threshold was set at three minutes. 4. Our Dutch news reports and the rest of the questionnaire can be obtained from the first author. 5. Principal axis factoring without rotation (KMO = 0.75, Bartlett’s test, p < 0.001). Principal component analysis without rotation provided the same conclusion. 6. Lower and middle foreign education were combined with ‘mavo/vmbo-tl’ and ‘mbo-kort (kmbo)’ and higher foreign education was combined with ‘university bachelor.’ 7. As the recorded effect does run in the predicted direction, an explanation for this unexpected finding may be that given our small sample size effects need to be relatively strong to attain statistical significance. A second explanation may be that the stimulus we have used may have been insufficiently salient.

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

149

Appendix 1: News Reports About Climate Change (Offered to Respondents in Dutch) CONTROL TREATMENT Please read this as you would any news article. West Antarctic Ice Sheet Thickening, Scientists Say by John Middleton, Associated Press A study published today in the journal Science has found that parts of the ice sheet in Antarctica, the frozen continent that straddles the South Pole, are getting thicker rather than thinner. Using satellite-based radar technology, the study found that instead of losing about 21 billion tons of ice a year, west Antarctica is accumulating nearly 27 billion tons of ice a year. These new findings cast doubt on the speed with which global warming might be felt in the reaches of the southern hemisphere. Conducting the research were Dr. Ian Tulland and Dr. Stanley Barton from [INFORMATION SOURCE TREATMENT]. Their flow measurements for the Ross ice streams indicate that movement of some of the ice streams has slowed or halted, allowing the ice to thicken. The scientists say their study could indicate a reversal of a long-term trend in glacier shrinkage. ‘The ice sheet has been retreating for the last few thousand years, but we think the end of this retreat has come,’ said Tulland. [CONTROVERSY TREATMENT] [RECONCILIATION TREATMENT] The Tulland-Barton study of the West Antarctic ice sheet was featured at the latest meeting of the American Geophysical Union in San Francisco, a gathering of scientists across the U. S. but attended by scientists worldwide. CONTROVERSY TREATMENT However, not all scientists agree with the ice-thickening assessment. Dr. Lee Weaver, a chief scientist from the University of Cambridge, said, ‘The preponderance of scientific data simply does not support their hypothesis.’ Weaver has found instances of rapid ice thinning in Antarctica, a likely result of temperatures that have been rising sharply over the past 50 years on the continent due to global warming. Weaver called Tulland and Barton’s research noteworthy, but expressed concern over their use of a relatively unproven computer modeling program. Over the past two decades, Weaver and Oxford University climatologist

150

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

Arthur Hutchins have been monitoring temperatures and glacial ice using multiple data modeling programs. ‘There is enough water in the West Antarctic ice sheet to gradually raise sea levels a staggering 20 feet, so any changes in glacial ice are of great concern,’ Weaver said. RECONCILIATION TREATMENT Although the world’s university scientists agree that the earth’s surface has warmed significantly, especially over the last several decades, there is a far more complicated picture of Antarctica’s weather and how global warming will materialize here. A 1991 study indicated that ice was thickening in parts of the continent, and another study found a cooling trend since the mid-1980s in Antarctica’s harsh desert valleys. However, other recent studies have noted a dramatic shrinkage in the continent’s three largest glaciers, losing as much as 150 feet of thickness in the last decade. While such individual research results seem contradictory, they cast doubt only on where and how soon global climate effects might be evident. At a major international meeting last fall, university scientists agreed that global warming is occurring and that human actions are contributing to the warming. INFORMATION SOURCE TREATMENT: either ‘Harvard University’ or ‘Royal Dutch Shell.’ Note: Because news reports with either ‘controversy’ and/or ‘reconciliation’ end up being longer than those without either or both of these, Corbett and Durfee (2004, 138) decided to add ‘so called boilerplate material about the ice sheet and simple facts related to its size and formation’ so as to make these reports just as long as the other ones. We have not done so ourselves.

References Achterberg, Peter, Dick Houtman, Samira van Bohemen, and Katerina Manevska. 2010. “Unknowing but Supportive? Predispositions, Knowledge, and Support for Hydrogen Technology in the Netherlands.” International Journal of Hydrogen Energy 35 (12): 6075–83. Baker, Aryn. 2015. “How Climate Change Is Behind the Surge of Migrants to Europe.” Time, September 7. http://time.com/4024210/climate-changemigrants/.

6

CULTURAL WORLDVIEWS AND LAY INTERPRETATIONS …

151

Brekhus, Wayne H. 2015. Culture and Cognition: Patterns in the Social Construction of Reality. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press. Chong, Dennis, and James N. Druckman. 2007. “Framing Theory.” Annual Review of Political Science 10: 103–26. Corbett, Julia B., and Jessica L. Durfee. 2004. “Testing Public (Un)Certainty of Science: Media Representations of Global Warming.” Science Communication 26 (2): 129–51. De Koster, Willem, Peter Achterberg, Jeroen van der Waal, Samira van Bohemen, and Roy Kemmers. 2014. “Progressiveness and the New Right: The Electoral Relevance of Culturally Progressive Values in the Netherlands.” West European Politics 37 (3): 584–604. De Meere, Freek. 1996. U kunt gerust gaan slapen…. Denkbeelden over technologie, risico’s en samenleving [You Can Safely Go to Sleep: Beliefs about Technology, Risk, and Society]. Delft: Eburon. Dickson, David. 2005. “The Case for a ‘Deficit Model’ of Science Communication.” SciDev.Net. Accessed December 16, 2020. https://www.scidev.net/glo bal/editorials/the-case-for-a-deficit-model-of-science-communic/. DiMaggio, Paul. 1997. “Culture and Cognition.” Annual Review of Sociology 23: 263–87. Douglas, Mary, and Aaron Wildavsky. 1982. Risk and Culture: An Essay on the Selection of Technological and Environmental Dangers. Berkeley and Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press. Durfee, Jessica, and Julia Corbett. 2005. “Context and Controversy: Global Warming Coverage.” Nieman Reports 59 (4): 88. Durkheim, Emile. 1995 [1912]. The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. New York: Free Press. Durkheim, Emile, and Marcel Mauss. 1963 [1903]. Primitive Classification. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Fox, Maggie. 2017. “Climate Change Already Hurting Our Health and Economy, Report Warns.” NBC News, October 31. https://www.nbcnews. com/health/health-news/climate-change-already-hurting-our-health-eco nomy-report-warns-n815816. Goldenberg, Suzanne. 2014. “Climate Change ‘Already Affecting Food Supply’—UN.” The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/environment/ 2014/mar/31/climate-change-food-supply-un. Houtman, Dick, and Peter Achterberg. 2016. “Quantitative Analysis in Cultural Sociology. Why It Should Be Done, How It Can Be Done.” In Sage Handbook of Cultural Sociology, edited by David Inglis and Anna-Mari Almila, 225–36. London: Sage. Kahan, Dan M., Hank Jenkins-Smith, and Donald Braman. 2011. “Cultural Cognition of Scientific Consensus.” Journal of Risk Research 14 (2): 147–74.

152

P. TROMP AND P. ACHTERBERG

Lodge, Milton, and Charles S. Taber. 2013. The Rationalizing Voter. New York: Cambridge University Press. Montreal Gazette. 2011. “False Autism Study Has Done Untold Harm.” Montreal Gazette, January 10. https://www.pressreader.com/canada/mon treal-gazette/20110110/282527244877884. Nisbet, Matthew C., and Chris Mooney. 2007. “Framing Science.” Science 316 (5821): 56. Sturgis, Patrick, and Nick Allum. 2004. “Science in Society: Re-evaluating the Deficit Model of Public Attitudes.” Public Understanding of Science 13 (1): 55–74. Tiemeijer, Will, and Jos de Jonge. 2013. Hoeveel vertrouwen hebben Nederlanders in wetenschap? [How Much Trust Do the Dutch Have in Science?]. Den Haag: Rathenau Instituut. Tolsma, Jochem, Gerbert Kraaykamp, Paul M. De Graaf, Matthijs Kalmijn, and Christiaan W.S. Monden. 2014. The NEtherlands Longitudinal Lifecourse Study (NELLS, Panel). Radboud University Nijmegen, Tilburg University & University of Amsterdam, The Netherlands. Worland, Justin. 2015. “Climate Change Could Wreck the Global Economy.” Time, October 22. http://time.com/4082328/climate-change-economicimpact/. Zaller, John R. 1992. The Nature and Origins of Mass Opinion. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

PART III

Contesting the Authority of Scientific Institutions

CHAPTER 7

‘Science Without Scientists’: DIY Biology and the Renegotiation of the Life Sciences Massimiliano Simons

1

Introduction

An angry white male is sick of it. He stands up from his seat in the plane, raises his voice and proclaims: ‘These smug pilots have lost touch with regular passengers like us. Who thinks I should fly the plane?’ His hand goes up and soon those of other passengers follow. This controversial cartoon appeared in January 2017 in The New Yorker.1 Many interpreted the cartoon as a critique of the Trump administration and its blatant populism. The power of its critique stems from one central assumption. While distrust of politicians seems legitimate to many, for science and technology we need to trust the experts. Ignoring scientific expertise and taking over oneself seems absurd. But is this absurdity so self-evident? In recent decades we have witnessed science facing extensive criticism and skepticism, ranging from conspiracy theories to climate change denialism. Those concerned maintain that science cannot be trusted and that one should rather trust one’s own eyes and think for oneself. In many

M. Simons (B) University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_7

155

156

M. SIMONS

instances, however, this notion that one should become one’s own expert is not so much directed against science per se, but rather against scientific institutions and consecrated experts. One such example is ‘citizen economics’ (Eerle, Moran and Ward-Perkins 2016), which starts from the idea that ‘every voter needs to be a citizen-economist.’2 Or as Ha-Joon Chang puts it in an article in the Guardian, the ‘economy is too important to be left to professional economists.’3 The existing scientific institutions that provide economic knowledge are not to be trusted anymore. Rather, citizens should become economists themselves, for ‘if we do not do our jobs as citizen economists, then the politicians and power brokers will do it for us, which inevitably leads these self-appointed experts to the conclusion that their understanding of economics or their sheer political muscle qualifies them to run our lives for us.’4 Another popular field for these kinds of initiatives is medicine. Already in the 1980s one could see this at work in AIDS activism, with patients refusing to accept their roles as mere study objects, waiting passively for experts to define their disease. Rather, they reshaped themselves into experts and contributed to the definition of and cures for AIDS (Epstein 1996). The Association française contre les myopathies (AFM) is a more recent example (Callon, Lascoumes and Barthe 2009). Dissatisfied with the scarcity of research that aims to find a cure for myopathy, a muscle disease, the association engages in ‘evidence-based activism’ by mobilizing ‘experts by experience’: its participants, often family members of patients, collect, formalize, and circulate patients’ experiences as a legitimate body of ‘experiential knowledge’ that aims to correct academic research (Rabesharisoa, Moreira and Akrich 2014). Both the AIDS and AFM examples highlight that what is contested nowadays is often not so much the scientific method, but the alleged inadequacy of the institutions that claim to represent it. In fact, representatives of these movements often have academic backgrounds themselves, even PhDs, having graduated in the very institutions that they subsequently start to criticize. They thus wish to preserve the insights and methods of science, but free it from what they see as the straightjacket of the institutionalized role of the academic scientist. In that sense, they dream of what Jason Bobe calls a ‘science without scientists.’5 Bobe, to whom we will return, is a representative of Do-It-Yourself biology, also known as ‘biohacking,’ the example I will examine in this chapter. DIY biology has emerged in the 2000s and aims to democratize the tools of molecular and experimental biology and strives for a society in

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

157

which everyone has the opportunity to use contemporary biotechnology in an open and sustainable way. I start in what follows with a description of recent changes in the life sciences that have made DIY biology possible to then discuss its own history and origins. Next, I discuss a neglected and understudied feature of DIY biology, i.e., its profound antiinstitutionalism that originates in the computer hacker movement and invokes diversity and ambiguity, much like in the latter. For DIY biology is not only connected to bioart and related critical practices, but also to the mainstream biotech industry. While much of what follows is based on data derived from online wiki’s, mailing lists and blogs, DIY biologists’ preferred means of communication, I also make use of data from interviews with DIY biologists, the contents of their publications, and participant observation in DIY community labs like ReaGent (Ghent), Hackuarium (Geneva), and the Waag Society (Amsterdam).

2

The Rise of DIY Biology 2.1

DIY Biology

‘At Google, an entry-level job requires a BA, but in synthetic biology, an entry-level job requires a postdoc. Should this be rethought?’ Speaking is an undergrad student, posing the question to a senior fellow at a conference on synthetic biology. The latter’s answer is short and simple: ‘Have you looked into DIYbio?’ (Scroggins 2014, 8). The intimate link between synthetic biology and DIY biology is no coincidence, because they both emerged in the beginning of the 2000s due to profound influences of computer science and engineering in biology from the 1980s onward (Keller 2009). Synthetic biology defines itself as the application of engineering methods to biological systems in order to simplify and standardize biological research (Endy 2005). To understand life, one has to construct it, manipulate it, tinker with it, to prevent remaining stuck in theoretical abstractions: ‘If you understand it, then you can make it; if you can make it, then you can say that you understand it’ (Sismour and Benner 2005, 1410). Synthetic biology has as such had a profound influence on the identity of biology. It has pushed answers to the question ‘What does it mean to be a biologist?’ in the direction of self-identifications as engineers, tinkerers, or even computer scientists working with ‘wetware.’6 This constituted a crucial precondition for the rise of DIY biology,

158

M. SIMONS

because bringing the idea of hacking to biology only makes sense if the latter is redefined in terms of biotechnology and tinkering with biological materials. For biohacking to emerge, biology must first come to be seen as hackable. Synthetic biology provided not only a new identity for biologists, but also a new ideal of what biology should look like. Many DIY biologists are in fact inspired by the promises of synthetic biology to make biology easy, rigid, and standardized. This is especially clear in one of the most influential strains of synthetic biology, what one could call ‘bioengineering’ (Simons 2016). Bioengineering approaches life as consisting of ‘BioBricks,’ and cells as consisting of small, standardized, and simplified modules that can be recombined at will. Much bioengineering in effect entails the creation of such modules and storing them into a central database, the Registry of Standard Biological Parts.7 This database enables biologists to rely on work done by other members of their community rather than having to create all modules themselves, which makes doing biology much more simple. As Drew Endy (2008, 344) speculates in one of his articles: You could perhaps have biological engineers who don’t know (and don’t necessarily need to know) that DNA is made up of four bases, if we could figure out how to organize the work and separate it into different layers.

This has been put into practice in the International Genetic Engineered Machine (iGEM) competition, in which student teams from all over the world compete to synthesize the best biological systems.8 This annual competition, starting in 2003 with just a few students from MIT, culminated in 2019 with over 353 teams from 40+ countries and over 6500 participants.9 Although the iGEM competition can be described as a propaganda machine for synthetic biology, it has served a similar purpose for DIY biology. Many DIY biologists have indeed participated in the iGEM competition earlier on, and share its philosophy that biology is open-access, easy, and fun.10 The other way around, a flourishing DIY biology community is surely helpful to synthetic biology, too: ‘A robust DIYbio community helps to validate the BioBrick vanguard’s promissory vision of biology made “easy to engineer,” suggesting that this relatively recent approach deserves further funding and support’ (Wilbanks 2017, 198).

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

159

The DIYbio.org website, founded by Jason Bobe and Mac Cowell, was a direct outcome of their participation in the iGEM competition. In an interview Cowell stresses that it was because he ‘fell in love with the general idea that biology can be engineered’ that he was drawn to DIY biology. He created the network mainly because he ‘was disappointed with the huge barrier of entry for average people, or for anyone who wants to get involved but is not already in a PhD program.’ The iGEM competition contributes to the BioBricks database, obliging all the teams to share their work in an open-source fashion. In this, Cowell also sees a potential for DIY biology, since ‘a crowd-sourced network of hobbyists might help measure and characterize the needed toolbox of thousands of biological parts in the first place.’ DIY biologists in fact do much work that is not appreciated in academia, but is nonetheless necessary to make scientific progress in biology. ‘With more hackers, makers, and artists inside the synthetic biology community, we are going to see a myriad of unexpected, useful, and beautiful creations,’ Silva (2015, 41) points out, while ‘many synthetic biologists are having trouble getting papers about different measurement standards published because it doesn’t clearly advance the scientific agenda,’ since such work does not entail ‘scientific progress, but really, it’s about engineering progress.’11 The cost of equipment and sequencing techniques in the life sciences, such as DNA synthesis or CRISPR-Cas9, has dropped significantly. This is illustrated by the Carlson’s Curve, named after the previously mentioned Rob Carlson. The curve shows how the costs of new sequencing techniques drop in a lawful manner, similar to the way Moore’s Law describes the evolution of computer chips. ‘This technology is changing so rapidly that within just a few years, the power of today’s elite academic and industrial laboratories will be affordable and available to individuals’ (Carlson 2011, 10). The DIY biology movement itself also actively contributes to this development by designing cheaper alternatives for the expensive instruments used in university labs, such as open-source mini PCR machines to copy and multiply specific DNA samples or DIY CRISPR kits to edit genes. 2.2

From Garage Biology to Community Labs

The origins of DIY biology are situated around 2005 in the USA, although predictions about its eventual rise go back to at least the

160

M. SIMONS

1980s.12 From 2005 to 2009 DIY biology mainly consisted of individuals doing experiments in their own garages, basements, and houses. This explains the circulation of other designations, such as ‘garage biology’ or ‘kitchen biology’ (Wolinsky 2009; Editorial 2010).13 Rob Carlson, a bioengineer, already claimed in 2001 that ‘garage biology’ would be a real thing in 2050 (Carlson 2001). He felt forced to adjust this prediction in 2005 already, stating that the ‘era of garage biology is upon us. Want to participate? Take a moment to buy yourself a lab on eBay’ (Carlson 2005). Katherine Aull was one of the first to try, rebuilding her personal bedroom closet into a sophisticated laboratory to genetically test herself for hemochromatosis (lethal iron-buildup in the body). Bypassing passive dependency on university laboratories or expensive clinics she succeeded in finding out that she was in fact a carrier of the gene (Wohlsen 2012, 11–15). Indeed, popular media and introductions to DIY biology boast stories about how easy and practical DIY biology actually is. A well-known example is the story of German journalist Sascha Karberg, who had got tired of always finding dog poo on his doorstep. Rather than cleaning up again and again, he took the excrements inside and analyzed their DNA. Using a tennis ball, he subsequently gained saliva samples from all the dogs in the neighborhood. Soon after that he was able to identify the responsible dog and confront its owner. Karberg did not need an expensive and elaborated university lab for this, but could simply do so at his home (Karberg, Charisius and Friebe 2013). From around 2010, however, a shift away from such strictly individual practices toward community labs occurred. In a survey by the Wilson Center in 2013, 92 percent of the respondents indicated that they worked in group spaces (Grushkin, Kuiken and Millet 2013, 9). Early examples of such spaces are Genspace (New York) and BioCurious (Silicon Valley). BioCurious, for instance, defines itself as ‘a community of scientists, technologists, entrepreneurs, and amateurs who believe that innovations in biology should be accessible, affordable, and open to everyone.’14 A standard community lab has around five to ten core members, a group of 20 or 30 regular members, and a greater group of interested, often connected through mailing lists only. The abovementioned DIYbio.org website was launched in 2008 as ‘an institution for the Do-It-Yourself biologist,’15 aiming for a global network of DIY biology labs. Today it lists more than 50 spaces around the world and has a mailing list with over 5000 subscribers (February 2020).16 More

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

161

recently, community labs have also spread in Europe and Asia, exemplified by thriving ones such as La Paillasse in Paris and Hackuarium in Geneva (Kera 2012; Seyfried, Pei and Schmidt 2014).17 There are several reasons for this shift to community spaces. A first one is money, since running a biology lab is costly, and community spaces enable DIY biologists to share the costs and generate funding together. Labs rely on donations of equipment, membership fees, and entrance fees for organized workshops and courses, such as Genspace’s ‘PCR and Pizza’ or the BioHack Academy by the Waag Society (Amsterdam). The need to deal with legal issues (e.g., obtaining clearance for experiments with genetic modification) is another reason for collaboration in community spaces. This is especially so in Europe, where legal constraints on genetic engineering are more strict than in the USA. As a consequence, European community labs are not very actively involved in genetic engineering, even though there are exceptions, like Cathal Garvey’s Indie BioTech in Ireland. Garvey succeeded in registering his parents’ house as a Class I lab, which allowed him to manipulate microbes of ‘negligible risk.’ A closely related reason for collaboration in community spaces is that suppliers of the essentials for any biology lab are hesitant to ship to home addresses. As one DIY biologist reports, ‘[I]f you don’t have a university affiliation, you’re not even going to get an email back from these folks’ (Schloendorn 2014, 13). What do DIY biologists actually do within their labs? There are very diverse types of activities going on, but analytically one could distinguish between doing research, creating technology, having fun, and providing education or critique. I focus on the first, research, and touch upon the others in relation to it. I do so to critique the tendency to portray DIY biology as entailing mere ‘fringe biotechnology’ (Vaage 2017), to be appreciated mainly for its artistic capabilities and as a source of social critique. Such an understanding underestimates its ambitions of making an actual contribution to science by producing new knowledge or new products. Although there is some skepticism about the actual capacities of DIY biologists to contribute to science, ‘DIYers have already begun to make contributions as the tools of biotechnology have become available’ (Grushkin, Kuiken and Millet 2013, 11). One example of an ongoing project is the creation of ‘vegan cheese’ by genetically modifying bacteria in such a way that they start producing milk that can subsequently be turned into cheese (Wilbanks 2017). Another example is the

162

M. SIMONS

Glowing Plant project, which aims to create genetically modified plants that can give light without electricity.18 The Open Insulin Project is a third example. It aims to create a generic open-source and cheap variant of insulin that can be made available to all.19 Obviously my aim here is not to assess the feasibility of these and related projects, but just to highlight the scientific ambitions of DIY biology—ambitions that have been neglected in much of the literature.

3

The Ethos of DIY Biology

DIY biology has raised some interest among ethicists and social scientists. First of all, a great part of the existing literature on DIY biology addresses ethical questions concerning biosafety and biosecurity (Bennett et al. 2009). While there is certainly ground for concerns about frictions with existing laws and safety procedures, many of these worries are nonetheless exaggerated, since the ‘reality is that the techniques and expertise needed to create a deadly insect or virus are far beyond the capabilities of the typical DIY biologist or community lab’ (Kuiken 2016, 167). Secondly, much literature defines DIY biology as ‘biology moving out of institutions and to the realms of the public’ (Delgado 2013, 66), in effect understanding it as a form of either ‘science democratization’ (Meyer 2013) or political resistance (Delgado and Callén 2017). Such understandings exemplify an account that perceives a shift toward increased involvement of amateurs in scientific research, leading to ‘mode 2 knowledge’ (Gibbons, Limoges and Nowotny 1994), ‘research’ (rather than ‘science’) (Latour 1998) or ‘postnormal science’ (Ravetz 2011). In reality, however, many DIY biologists are not amateurs at all. A survey by the Wilson Center indicates that ‘the DIY community is more educated [in biology] than the general population: 19 percent have obtained a doctorate level degree (i.e., MD, PhD, JD), 27 percent have obtained a master’s degree, and 37 percent have completed college’ (Grushkin, Kuiken and Millet 2013, 6). Furthermore, ‘28 percent work at an academic, corporate, or government lab’ (idem, 6), combining it in their free time with DIY biology. So why do these educated biologists feel the need, necessity, and feasibility of doing science outside traditional research institutes in the first place, as moonlighting scientists as it were? To answer this question, we need to take a vital yet often overlooked aspect of DIY biology into account, namely its relationship with the hacker movement and its ethos. For DIY biologists share many of the

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

163

ideas of what Steven Levy (1984) has called the ‘hacker ethic,’ which dates back to the counter-cultural hacker scene at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) in the late 1950s. Central elements of this hacker ethic include the notions that all information should be free, that authorities should be mistrusted, that crucial lessons can be learned by ‘taking things apart, seeing how they work, and using this knowledge to create new and even more interesting things,’ and that hackers should ‘resent any person, physical barrier, or law that tries to keep them from doing this’ (Levy 1984, 24). Hackers, in short, endorse a philosophy of openness, of sharing and of decentralization: for ‘the hacker, the computer begins to reveal itself as the means to realize our highest cultural values: independence, freedom, and education’ (Thomas 2002, 76). Many of these ideas are also found in DIY biology. In fact, DIY biologists are often referred to as ‘biohackers,’ defined as ‘life scientists whose practices exhibit a remix of cultures that update a more traditional science ethos with elements coming from hacking and free software’ (Delfanti 2013, 1). An invariable element of the ethos of DIY biology is indeed its plea for openness. The first line on the GenSpace website, which describes its mission, states for instance that its principal aim is to provide ‘an openaccess lab for everyone.’20 Or as the Open Bio labs in Charlottesville, Virginia, states, ‘[e]veryone of any age, field, or walk of life is invited to take a workshop, attend a lecture, or tinker around in our wetlab.’21 These labs do as such stress the openness and accessibility of their activities and courses. Likewise, a report by a DIY biologist about a workshop that addressed tinkering with the E coli bacteria starts by highlighting its openness (Most 2013, 17): As a summer fellow at Carnegie Mellon University, I had done this lab once before, except this time the other participants weren’t undergraduates. Instead, I was joined by a woman with a background in communications, two high school students, a network specialist, and an onlooking real estate developer. Everyone was pleased to see their own colonies glow under a UV lamp.

DIY biology also echoes the open-source ideology of computer science in that one of its key activities is the creation of cheaper and opensource alternatives for existing instruments in molecular biology, such as centrifuges or PCR machines (Landrain et al. 2013). A good example is the so-called ‘Bento Lab,’ a cheap, modular, and portable DNA analysis

164

M. SIMONS

laboratory, consisting of a PCR machine, a centrifuge, and a gel electrophoresis box in one. In contrast to the normal prices of thousands of dollars for laboratory equipment, these self-made alternatives are affordable for and open to community spaces with lower budgets. By making such technologies available to everyone, biohackers are ‘developing an infrastructure that enables people not in traditional institutions to take advantage of the tools that those institutions typically provide.’22 Similar to computer hackers, then, DIY biologists aim to make the insights and practices of biology available to all, as expressed by the name of DIY bio community space Counter Culture Labs (CCL), Oakland, USA. Visitors to this lab immediately find the Wikipedia entry on ‘hacker ethic’ posted in its hallway, accompanied by graffiti slogans like ‘Decentralize all the things!’ (Wilbanks 2017, 189). Similarly, CCL’s website maintains that for ‘far too long, science has been locked away in the “ivory towers” of universities and research labs. Silicon valley was born out of garage workshops and hobby clubs, the precursor to today’s hackerspaces. And much of tomorrow’s innovation will be born out of the garage labs of today.’23 It is as such no coincidence that many of today’s DIY biology community labs have been created in close connection with the ‘hackerspaces’ and ‘fabrications labs’ (fablabs) that came into being in the 1990s and the 2000s, respectively, to provide tools for everyone who wanted to tinker with technology and computers. For instance, ReaGent, the DIY biology community space in Ghent (Belgium), started in the basement of Timelab, a hackerspace. Similarly, Hackuarium (Geneva) currently shares a building with a hackerspace and a makerspace. All of these groups share the philosophy of open source. 3.1

DIY Biology as Anti-academic

DIY biology also shares something else with computer hackers, namely a deeply embedded critique against ‘the System,’ against mainstream institutions. Thus, while DIY biology’s philosophy of openness has often been misconstrued as merely indicating an affinity with ‘science democratization,’ it in fact shares the much more radical anti-institutionalism of the hacker scene. Indeed, confronted with the open-source philosophy of computers in an interview, Mac Cowell, co-founder of DIYbio.org, asks: ‘So why can’t we do that with biology? Why does all biology happen in academic or industrial labs? What’s the barrier to entry for doing something interesting in biology? It’s a four- to seven-year PhD

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

165

program. There must be another opportunity.’24 Inspired by the openness of computer hacking, biohackers want to show how biology is not ‘the property of a priesthood with lab coats: it [is] something that anyone could do’ (Loukides 2013, 5). As indicated above, Jason Bobe, DIYbio.org second founder, does indeed dream of ‘science without scientists,’ writing in a blog post that we are currently witnessing a renaissance in science, which is ‘going to take place outside of “science proper,” away from the universities which dominate now, and funded out-of-pocket by enthusiasts without PhDs.’25 According to DIY biologists, the problem with universities is that they have become alienated from their original goals, drowning in bureaucracy and office politics. The university ‘has become a world of committees, budget allocation negotiations, and quarterly/yearly cycles, lacking in vision and with fear of failure. So where does it leave us? The refugees of the Biotech Valley of Death?’ (Bethencourt 2013, 7–8). Alexander Murer was drawn to DIY biology because his ‘dreams of an open, exciting, and less restrictive chapter in [his] educational career had been crushed between the authoritarian university system and its routine of boring, oneway lectures, memorization of books, and writing tests’ (Murer 2015, 17). Similarly, Josiah Zayner criticizes the ‘cultish system’ of the university that attempts to lure young scientists into loyalty to its broken system by ‘the idea that one day they could have their own lab.’ For Zayner science is ‘a classist thing. DIYbio can break that down.’26 Biohackers often attack specific academic institutions like peer-review or publishing culture, claiming that nowadays knowledge is ‘locked up in journals, which live behind carefully maintained (and extremely expensive) paywalls’ (Loukides 2014, 8). In open-source software, on the other hand, interaction and feedback in knowledge production happen instantaneously. ‘This feedback loop is broken in biology. It can take months for journals to accept corrections, and spotting flaws is incredibly difficult without access to all of the project materials’ (Wickramasekara 2014, 21–22). Publishers are criticized as obsolete, not adding anything to the knowledge process: ‘[P]ublishing […] has for the most part become doit-yourself, except in science. Why?’ (Nicholson 2015, 17). Therefore Josh Nicholson calls for ‘breaking down the major publishers in science’ or at least ‘building up the individual publishers (i.e., you!)’ (idem, 18). He created The Winnower, an alternative forum for scientific publishing,

166

M. SIMONS

with a focus on open-access and debate. It follows the format of postpublication peer-review, with publications made immediately available to all, both for reading and for review by anyone who feels qualified for it.27 There is also the journal BioCoder, created by and for DIY biologists.28 Having published over ten issues, its content boasts a mixture of state-of-the art articles on DIY biology, personal reflections on its future, and manuals for open-source lab equipment. Recent editions also feature ‘pseudo-scientific’ articles that mimic ‘real’ peer-reviewed articles with abstracts, Materials and methods sections, and references (e.g., Huang and Rockefeller 2015; Ricou 2015). All this shows that DIY biologists do not simply ‘oppose’ science, in the sense of rejecting its methods, but rather resist the specific ways in which science is organized in the universities nowadays. 3.2

DIY Biology Against Big Bio

But not only the university is an object of criticism, also corporations and the government. DIY biology is opposed to what Delfanti (2013, 4) calls ‘Big Bio,’ ‘the ensemble of big corporations, global universities and international and government agencies that compose the economic system of current life sciences.’ In an article titled ‘Our Biotech Future,’ Freeman Dyson for instance predicts an open-source biology or ‘domesticated biotechnology’ which in the ‘hands of housewives and children, will give us an explosion of diversity of new living creatures, rather than the monoculture crops that the big corporations prefer.’29 Similarly, Ryan Bethencourt (2013, 7, 8) maintains that ‘to create the innovation we want in biotech, we may have to burn the bridges that got us here and re-create it ourselves, with or without the dinosaur the current biotech industry has become.’ In fact, he look[s] forward to seeing the oligopolies that have stifled innovation and kept patients’ healthcare prices high and access lower to come crashing down as our fellow biohackers create innovative ways to allow people to ferment their own products. […] As biohackers, we aren’t interested in preserving the status quo but in overthrowing it for the betterment of humanity.

These kinds of critiques of the biotech industry have sparked various initiatives to counter its power. The Open Insulin Project is a good

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

167

example. It aims to put an end to Big Bio’s ‘ongoing, unexplained and apparently arbitrary price increases.’30 According to CCL’s Anthony Di Franco, initiator of the project, it is essential that ‘citizen science groups [are] doing this kind of research, just so that it doesn’t all happen behind closed doors and depend on the political and economic incentives of these enormous institutions.’31 BioFoundry, another lab that collaborates in the Open Insulin Project, similarly sees it as a pursuit to ‘correct the tragic undersupply of Insulin in the global market’ and to ‘disrupt the Pharmaceutical Industry’s insulin oligopoly once and for all.’32 Perlstein lab, founded by Ethan Perlstein in 2014 and recently rebaptized Perlara, boasts the slogan ‘Leave No Mutation Behind’ and aims to find ‘orphan’ drugs, i.e., ‘treatments for diseases previously believed to be too rare to cure.’33 The idea is that Big Bio has no interest in these diseases, due to insufficient profit margins. Andrew Hessel started a project similar to Perlara in 2009, the ‘Pink Army Cooperative.’ It defines itself as ‘an open-source drug company working to create personalized cancer therapeutics.’ For Hessel Big Bio has failed to deliver a cure for cancer. Therefore he started to wonder: ‘what if volunteer researchers, working cooperatively from their garages and bedrooms, could rival the efforts of multibillion-dollar pharmaceutical companies?’ (Nelson 2014, 152). These critiques of Big Bio are often combined with a clear political program that understands the opening up of biology as a necessary step toward a better society. One of the main goals of the TrySci community biolabs (Independence, USA), for example, is to ‘combat exclusions from science,’ seeing it as a ‘civic responsibility’ to become educated in science.34 In the same way the meetup page for DIYbio San Diego starts from the premise that ‘if we as a society are to meet the challenges of the new millennium, everyone must understand the basics of the scientific method.’35 Or as Bio didact, a community biotech lab in New Mexico, rhetorically asks: ‘How can we expect our representatives to advocate more funding for basic scientific research if they, or their constituents, don’t really grasp what is done in a lab?’36 A final example is Meredith Patterson’s ‘A Biopunk Manifesto’ that sees it as a central responsibility of biohackers to act as ‘emissaries of science, creating new scientists out of everyone we meet’ in order to ‘drive ignorance and fear back into the darkness once and for all.’37 She conceives of ‘the right to arrive independently at an understanding of the world’ as a ‘fundamental human right’:

168

M. SIMONS

A thirteen-year-old kid in South Central Los Angeles has just as much of a right to investigate the world as does a university professor. If thermocyclers are too expensive to give one to every interested person, then we’ll design cheaper ones and teach people how to build them.

This kind of political message echoes another crucial influence on DIY biologists, besides hackerspaces, namely that of artists. In fact, ‘[a]rtists had already begun to involve themselves in wet laboratory activities, two decades before the advent of the contemporary biohacker movement’ (Vaage 2017, 116). The term ‘bioart’ itself was coined in 1997 by Eduardo Kac, although the practice of combining art and biotech goes back at least to the work of Joe Davis in the early 1980s. Several of the early bioart projects conceptualized what DIY biologists are now actually doing for real. Biotech Hobbyist Magazine, which first appeared online in 1998, aimed to conceptually work out tools for the ‘bedroom biotechnician.’38 Another important source of inspiration from the world of art is the Critical Art Ensemble (CAE), founded in 1987.39 The goals of CAE are very similar to those of DIYbio, i.e., demonstrating that within ‘a very brief period of time, anyone who is modestly literate can learn the fundamentals of scientific study and ethics’ (Critical Art Ensemble 2002, 4). DIY biologists are well familiar with the case of Steve Kurtz, a bioartist associated with CAE who was charged with ‘bioterrorism’ in 2004 when the police found an amateur home lab in his house after his wife had died of natural causes. Tensions similar to those between bio-artists and mainstream institutions exist between the latter and DIY biology (Tocchetti and Angeli Aguiton 2015), which offers an additional explanation of why DIY biology groups are receptive to the anti-institutionalism of hackerspaces and bio-artists. 3.3

Remembering When Biology Was Still Fun

Besides the anti-institutionalism that brings out what DIY biology does not want, DIY biologists also have a more positive story to tell about themselves, i.e., their obsession with pleasure, fun, and creativity in doing science. For a long time the slogan on the website of Genspace was: ‘Remember when science was fun? At Genspace it still is.’40 In an interview Ellen Jongersen, its co-founder, elaborates that science ‘is fun again when you are free to tinker. Who knows what cool inventions will come

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

169

out of community labs as they spread around the world?’ (quoted in Austen 2013, 49). ‘It’s really invigorating to just try out ideas, and there’s no one to tell you they’re stupid,’ Patrick D’haeseleer, a member of BioCurious, adds: ‘Everyone is there to learn something, and we’re all teaching each other’ (quoted in Scudellari 2013, 67). Creativity is seen as the only required asset in DIY biology, so that in the hoped-for future ‘[i]nnovation in biotech will no longer be limited by technology and accessibility. Nature will grow as a function of human imagination’ (Elkington 2015, 41). This attitude does not remain limited to the DIY biology community, but is in fact shared by many professionals in synthetic biology, a field that is similarly witnessing a shift ‘from the sober self-dedication of disinterested scientists to a playful activity of creating toys’ (Bensaude-Vincent 2016, 93). Synthetic biologists, too, try to come up again and again with newly designed cell mechanisms, more interested in demonstrating what is possible than in concrete, applicable research goals. Exemplifying a more general shift toward a new understanding of biology as a science, the emphasis on fun and creativity among DIY biologists can therefore not be taken to indicate that they are unlike their counterparts in academia merely ‘playing’ with biology.

4

DIY Bio and the Biotech Industry

Many authors have pointed out how synthetic biology is part and parcel of an ongoing commodification of life, e.g., by reshaping it into easily patentable modular parts, connecting it to for-profit organizations, and collaborating with direct-to-consumer genomics companies (Calvert 2008). This is exemplified by new companies such as 23andMe, which provide data and health recommendations based on samples of one’s personal genome (Harris, Wyatt and Kelly 2013). Something similar is at work in bottom-up initiatives by patients and citizens who organize themselves through platforms like Cancercommons.org or Patientslikeme.com. The biotech industry often has a stake in such patient mobilizations, for example, to get its drugs or treatments covered by health insurance. Biotech companies thus consciously create ‘patients-in-waiting’ (Rajan 2008, 175) or, on a more elementary level, have patients provide them with free labor, e.g., by gathering data for them. Despite its anti-institutionalism DIY biology is itself part and parcel of this shift toward a new bio-economy, with many communities blurring the

170

M. SIMONS

line between anti-institutional hackerspaces and biotech start-up companies (Delfanti 2012). Even the Open Insulin Project acknowledges that it will ultimately not produce the sought-for insulin itself, but will offer the protocol to do so to existing biotech companies in the hope that they will produce the cheap generic insulin. DIY bio’s critiques of mainstream institutions and Big Bio are as such not simply informed by political ideas and longings for social justice, but rather from the idea that the former prevent real economic innovation from happening. Many DIY biologist dreams of how the ‘next wave of life-saving, economy-saving, and planetsaving biotechnologies is going to come from small teams of start-up entrepreneurs.’ Lacking ‘the big budgets of Big Bio,’ the only way to achieve this is seen as giving such teams ‘unbureaucratic access to the basic tools to do their work.’ Aiming to liberate these technologies from mainstream institutions and big corporations, ‘[t]he power of free-market capitalism (meaning the nonsecretive, noncrony kind) would finally be unleashed to tear down the barriers to biotechnology-based scientific wealth, as it has done with so many barriers before it’ (Schloedorn 2014, 15). Again, the similarity to the computer hacker movement is clear. Steven Levy (1984, 365) already noted how by the 1980s many hackers ‘had gone to work for businesses, implicitly accepting the compromises that such work entailed.’ The best examples are Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, who both started out as hackers but soon became part of the industries other hackers despised. It is therefore telling that many biohackers understand themselves as the new Steve Jobs or Steve Wozniak, revolutionizing biology just like their forerunners did with computer science. ‘Biology in 2013 feels like computing in 1975 (just before the PC): ripe for an explosion,’ Mike Loukides observes,41 and Freeman Dyson ‘predict[s] that the domestication of biotechnology will dominate our lives during the next fifty years at least as much as the domestication of computers has dominated our lives during the previous fifty years.’42 Reference is frequently made to an interview in which Bill Gates commented that, if he were a teenager today, he would be tinkering with biology (Delfanti 2013, 14). Given the frequency with which such parallels are drawn, DIY biology seems more like a part of the biotech industry than a fundamental critique of it. What we observe here appears yet another instance of an innovation cycle that starts from the counter-cultural margins to later on become part and parcel of the institutional mainstream itself (Söderberg and Delfanti 2015).

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

171

DIY biologists are nonetheless just as much victims of the biotech industry as they are the latter’s willing ‘evil accomplices.’ Indeed, in and around DIY biology labels such as ‘indie scientists’ or ‘freelance biologists’ are popping up, especially among those who feel forced to opt for alternative funding sources outside the academy. Ethan Perlstein, already mentioned above, describes how ‘[a]fter two failed academic job search cycles, I decided to become what I call an “indie scientist,” inspired by the indie rock community, where people bypassed traditional gatekeepers of the industry, like music labels’ (quoted in Swartz 2016). Such indie scientists rely on platforms like IndieBio, RebelBio, or Experiment.com for their funding and need to convince them of the value and feasibility of their projects or startups.43 ‘You can fund a dinosaur fossil excavation, a historical study of medieval monasteries, or an experiment on the International Space Station. If it helps unlock new knowledge, then we can fund it,’44 Experiment.com explains, claiming to have a ‘44.8% success rate’ and to have funded at least 20 peer-reviewed journal articles.45 Although these platforms surely grant DIY biologists the flexibility they need, they also carry the risk of sustaining their economic precariousness, relieving it at best only temporarily. The university may be portrayed in these circles as overly bureaucratic and discouraging creativity and innovation, but at least it offers the advantages of a relatively stable research environment with funding opportunities, legal protection of data and patents, and the like. Indie scientists on the other hand risk dependency on the bio-economy that blurs the line between science and industry. Similar to patients’ organizations there is also the danger of having to do dirty and risky work for Big Bio, which only jumps in and takes over after an idea has proven its profitability. Finally, and more indirectly, there is the risk that indie DIY biology decreases funding for academic biology, since it communicates the idea that biology can just as well be done outside the university and free from state intervention. DIY biology, to sum up, is an utterly ambiguous phenomenon, potentially as harmful as it may be beneficial.

5

Conclusion

In this chapter, I have analyzed the case of DIY biology as a movement within the contemporary life sciences that situates itself outside of traditional academic institutions. Rather than conceiving DIY biology’s

172

M. SIMONS

blurring of the line between science and society as exemplifying a necessarily beneficial form of science democratization, I have highlighted its anti-institutionalism. For DIY biology is highly critical of universities and related academic institutions, even though many of those involved are themselves university-trained academics. There are surely also nonbiologists involved, not least in relation to issues concerning PR, science communication, or legal issues, but purely amateur biologists are hard to find. Even though DIY biology breathes a fundamentally open spirit of teaching and learning, offering non-biologists a basic understanding, the latter does not suffice to start tinkering with DNA just like that. This is why portrayals of DIY biology as entailing first of all an example of science democratization are misleading. ‘Non-institutional science’ is a better characterization. The anti-institutionalism of DIY biology is marked, as we have seen, by an affinity with the ethic of the hacker movement. This hacker ethic puts a distrust of existing institutions at the center, while simultaneously stressing the need to actively free oneself from these institutions and its restrictions. Similar to how hackers aspire to dismantle existing hardand software, and create their own alternatives that allow information to spread freely, so biohackers aim to liberate biological knowledge and instruments from its institutional straightjacket. Yet, despite its anti-institutionalism, DIY biology maintains an intimate link with synthetic biology, which gives rise to a deep ambiguity within itself, a double identity of being ‘an intervention in the marketplace as well as a practice of resistance’ (Delfanti 2013, 24). Its connections with universities and with the bio-industry offer opportunities to transform the latter from within, while simultaneously posing risks of co-optation by or subordination to vested corporate interests. Both scenarios are not even necessarily incompatible, as DIY biology’s ‘artistic critique’ with its marked emphasis on the need for creativity has since the 1960s come to permeate corporate capitalism and mainstream institutions (Boltanski and Chiapello 2007). DIY biology’s hacker background gives rise to interesting questions for future research. With the website DIYbio.org already describing itself as ‘An Institution for the Do-It-Yourself Biologist,’ tendencies of DIY bio’s institutionalization in the new bio-economy stand out as particularly interesting, because these contradict its marked anti-institutionalism and do as such easily spark tensions and conflicts in the bosom of DIY biology itself. The other way around, it is also an open question how

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

173

universities, academic research institutes, biotech companies, but also an organization like the FBI (Tocchetti and Angeli Aguiton 2015) respond to such tendencies of institutionalization. And how do biohackers at their turn react to these responses? These are some of the vital questions that need to be explored in future studies.

Notes 1. http://www.newyorker.com/cartoons/a20630. 2. http://www.citizenecon.com/p/citizen-economics-articles-linked-below. html. 3. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/apr/30/econom ics-experts-economists. 4. http://www.citizenecon.com/p/citizen-economics-articles-linked-below. html. 5. https://diybio.org/2008/08/22/science-without-scientists/. 6. Even though how engineering is understood remains deeply contested in synthetic biology (Simons 2020). 7. http://partsregistry.org/Main_Page. 8. http://igem.org/Main_Page. 9. http://2019.igem.org/Main_Page. 10. Nevertheless there are tensions between iGEM and DIY biology, because non-university teams were prohibited for some years to take part in the competition. From 2014 they are allowed again, immediately prompting 10 DIY biology teams to join that year’s competition. 11. http://seedmagazine.com/content/article/the_biohacking_hobbyist/. 12. See for instance: https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/opinions/ 1988/01/31/playing-god-in-your-basement/618f174d-fc11-47b3a8db-fae1b8340c67/. The article already uses the term ‘biohacker’ and claims that “the prospect of “bathtub biotech” is real if not imminent.” For a broader history of amateur experimental biology, see Curry (2014). 13. While there are various names around for this field, ranging from ‘kitchen biology’, ‘garage biology’, ‘amateur biology’, ‘DIY biology’, ‘biohacking’ to ‘biopunk’, the terms that those concerned most typically identify with themselves are ‘DIY biologist’ and ‘biohacker’. ‘Biopunk’ is rarely used (Meredith Patterson’s ‘A Biopunk Manifesto’ is a notable exception), but occasionally used by external observers (e.g., Wohlsen 2012). The terms ‘biohacking’ and even more so ‘biopunk’ are also claimed by another group, the so-called ‘grinder movement’. ‘Grinders’ aim to use technology, such as chips or implants, to improve their bodies and become cyborgs. ‘Biohacking’ is in this sense an ambiguous notion, which may refer to either ‘hacking biology’ (as in DIY biology) or ‘hacking the body’ (as in the grinder movement).

174

M. SIMONS

14. http://biocurious.org/. 15. https://diybio.org/. 16. https://groups.google.com/forum/?utm_source=digest&utm_medium= email#!forum/diybio/topics. 17. This does not mean that there are no famous individual cases anymore. Two examples are Tristan Roberts and Josiah Zayner. Diagnosed as HIV positive and having become disappointed by conventional medicine, Roberts injected himself with an experimental gene therapy in October 2017 at a friend’s place, live on Facebook. Around the same time, Zayner injected himself live on his blog with another gene therapy, using the CRISPR technique to remove a protein that prevents muscle growth. 18. See https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/antonyevans/glowing-plantsnatural-lighting-with-no-electricit/. This project received a lot of attention, but has been put on a temporary hold due to financial difficulties. 19. http://openinsulin.org/. 20. https://www.genspace.org/mission/. 21. http://openbiolabs.org/about/. 22. http://www.popsci.com/indie-scientist-who-vows-to-leave-no-mutationbehind. 23. https://www.counterculturelabs.org/info--history.html. 24. http://seedmagazine.com/content/article/the_biohacking_hobbyist/. 25. https://diybio.org/2008/08/22/science-without-scientists/. 26. https://fusion.tv/story/285454/diy-crispr-biohackers-garage-labs/ amp/. 27. https://thewinnower.com/. 28. http://www.oreilly.com/biocoder/. 29. http://www.nybooks.com/articles/2007/07/19/our-biotech-future/. 30. http://openinsulin.org/onwards-and-upwards-in-2017/. 31. https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/after-92-years-biohackerswant-to-finally-make-cheap-and-generic-insulin. 32. http://foundry.bio/oligo-insulin/. 33. https://www.perlara.com/. 34. http://www.trysci.org/. 35. https://www.meetup.com/nl-NL/DIYbio-San-Diego/. 36. http://biodidact.net/about-us.html. 37. http://maradydd.livejournal.com/496085.html. 38. http://www.nyu.edu/projects/xdesign/biotechhobbyist/bio_about. html. 39. http://www.critical-art.net/. 40. http://genspace.org/. Currently the slogan is ‘Learn. Create. Grow.’ 41. http://www.oreilly.com/biocoder/. 42. http://www.nybooks.com/articles/2007/07/19/our-biotech-future/.

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

175

43. http://indiebio.co/, https://rebelbio.co/, https://experiment.com/. 44. https://experiment.com/how-it-works. 45. https://experiment.com/faq.

References Austen, Kat. 2013. “Citizen Scientist: Out of the Lab and onto the Streets.” New Scientist 218 (2923): 48–51. Bennett, Gaymon, Nils Gilman, Anthony Stavrianakis, and Paul Rabinow. 2009. “From Synthetic Biology to Biohacking: Are We Prepared?” Nature Biotechnology 27 (12): 1109–11. Bensaude-Vincent, Bernadette. 2016. “The Moral Economy of Synthetic Biology.” In Synthetic Biology, edited by Joachim Boldt, 87–100. Wiesbaden: Springer. Bethencourt, Ryan. 2013. “Biotech’s Cambrian Era.” BioCoder 2013 (Fall): 7–9. Boltanski, Luc, and Eve Chiapello. 2007. The New Spirit of Capitalism. London: Verso. Callon, Michel, Pierre Lascoumes, and Yannick Barthe. 2009. Acting in an Uncertain World: An Essay on Technical Democracy. Cambridge: MIT Press. Calvert, Jane. 2008. “The Commodification of Emergence: Systems Biology, Synthetic Biology and Intellectual Property.” BioSocieties 3 (4): 383–98. Carlson, Rob. 2001. “Open Source Biology and Its Impact on Industry.” IEEE Spectrum 38 (5): 15–7. Carlson, Rob. 2005. “Splice It Yourself: Who Needs a Geneticist? Build Your Own DNA Lab.” Wired Magazine 13 (May): 89–90. Carlson, Rob. 2011. Biology Is Technology. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Critical Art Ensemble. 2002. Molecular Invasion, 2002. Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia. Curry, Helen. 2014. “From Garden Biotech to Garage Biotech: Amateur Experimental Biology in Historical Perspective.” British Journal for the History of Science 47 (3): 539–65. Delfanti, Alessandro. 2012. “Tweaking Genes in Your Garage: Biohacking between Activism and Entrepreneurship.” In Activist Media and Biopolitics: Critical Media Interventions in the Age of Biopower, edited by Wolfgang Sützl and Theo Hug, 163–77. Innsbruck: Innsbruck University Press. Delfanti, Alessandro. 2013. Biohackers: The Politics of Open Science. London: Pluto Press. Delgado, Ana. 2013. “DIYbio: Making Things and Making Futures.” Futures 48 (April): 65–73.

176

M. SIMONS

Delgado, Ana, and Blanca Callén. 2017. “Do-It-Yourself Biology and Electronic Waste Hacking: A Politics of Demonstration in Precarious Times.” Public Understanding of Science 26 (2): 179–94. Editorial. “Garage Biology.” 2010. Nature 467 (7316): 634. Eerle, Joe, Cahal Moran, and Zach Ward-Perkins. 2016. The Econocracy: The Perils of Leaving Economics to the Experts. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Elkington, Joshua. 2015. “The Development of the Personal Genetic Kit.” BioCoder 2015 (Summer): 37–41. Endy, Drew. 2005. “Foundations for Engineering Biology.” Nature 438 (7067): 449–53. Endy, Drew. 2008. “Synthetic Biology: Can We Make Biology Easy to Engineer?” Industrial Biotechnology 4 (4): 340–51. Epstein, Steven. 1996. Impure Science: AIDS, Activism, and the Politics of Knowledge. Berkeley: University of California Press. Gibbons, Michael, Camille Limoges, and Helga Nowotny. 1994. The New Production of Knowledge: The Dynamics of Science and Research in Contemporary Societies. London: Sage. Grushkin, Daniel, Todd Kuiken, and Piers Millet. 2013. Seven Myths & Realities about Do-It-Yourself Biology. Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson Center. Harris, Anna, Sally Wyatt, and Susan Kelly. 2013. “The Gift of Spit (and the Obligation to Return It): How Consumers of Online Genetic Testing Services Participate in Research.” Information, Communication & Society 16 (2): 236– 57. Huang, Louis, and Alan Rockefeller. 2015. “Cataloguing Strains: Isolation and Identification of Invasive Fungi on Citrus Limon.” BioCoder 2015 (Winter): 7–15. Karberg, Sascha, Hanno Charisius, and Richard Friebe. 2013. Biohacking: Gentechnik aus der Garage. München: Carl Hanser Verlag. Keller, Evelyn Fox. 2009. “Knowing as Making, Making as Knowing: The Many Lives of Synthetic Biology.” Biological Theory 4 (4): 333–9. Kera, Denisa. 2012. “Hackerspaces and DIYbio in Asia: Connecting Science and Community with Open Data, Kits and Protocols.” Journal of Peer Production 2 (June): 1–8. Kuiken, Todd. 2016. “Learn from DIY biologists.” Nature, 531 (7593): 167– 168. Landrain, Thomas, Morgan Meyer, Ariel Perez, and Remi Sussan. 2013. “DoIt-Yourself Biology: Challenges and Promises for an Open Science and Technology Movement.” Systems and Synthetic Biology 7 (3): 115–26. Latour, Bruno. 1998. “From the World of Science to the World of Research?” Science 280 (5361): 208–9. Levy, Steven. 1984. Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution. Garden City, NY: Nerraw Manijaime/Doubleday.

7

‘SCIENCE WITHOUT SCIENTISTS’: DIY BIOLOGY …

177

Loukides, Mike. 2013. “Welcome to BioCoder.” BioCoder 2013 (Fall): 5–6. Loukides, Mike. 2014. “Avoiding the Tragedy of the Anticommons.” BioCoder 2014 (Fall): 5–10. Meyer, Morgan. 2013. “Domesticating and Democratizing Science: A Geography of Do-It-Yourself Biology.” Journal of Material Culture 18 (2): 117–34. Most, Noah. 2013. “DIYbio around the World.” BioCoder 2013 (Fall): 17–9. Murer, Alexander. 2015. “From Student Protest to DANN Synthesizer.” BioCoder 2015 (Winter): 17–21. Nelson, Bryan. 2014. “Synthetic Biology: Cultural Divide.” Nature 509 (7499): 152–4. Nicholson, Joshua. 2015. “DIY Scientific Publishing.” BioCoder 2015 (Spring): 17–9. Rabesharisoa, Vololona, Tiago Moreira, and Madeleine Akrich. 2014. “EvidenceBased Activism: Patients’, Users’ and Activists’ Groups in Knowledge Society.” BioSocieties 9 (2): 111–28. Rajan, Kaushik. 2008. “Biocapital as an Emergent Form of Life.” In Biosocialities, Genetics and the Social Sciences: Making Biologies and Identities, edited by Sahra Gibbon and Carlos Novas, 157–87. London and New York: Routledge. Ravetz, Jerome. 2011. “Postnormal Science and the Maturing of the Structural Contradictions of Modern European Science.” Futures 43 (2): 142–8. Ricou, Joana. 2015. “Other Selves: An Artistic Study of the Human Microbiome.” BioCoder 2015 (Winter): 29–34. Schloendorn, John. 2014. “Open Source Biotech Consumables.” BioCoder 2014 (Summer): 11–8. Scroggins, Michael. 2014. “DIYbio and the Hacking Metaphor.” BioCoder 2014 (Winter 2014): 7–8. Scudellari, Megan. 2013. “Biology Hacklabs.” The Scientist 27 (3): 65–7. Seyfried, Günter, Lei Pei, and Markus Schmidt. 2014. “European Do-It-Yourself (DIY) Biology: Beyond the Hope, Hype and Horror.” BioEssays 36 (6): 548– 51. Silva, Luis. 2015. “The Present and Bright Future of Synthetic Biology.” BioCoder (Spring): 39–42. Simons, Massimiliano. 2016. “The End and Rebirth of Nature? From Politics of Nature to Synthetic Biology.” Philosophica 47 (1): 109–24. Simons, Massimiliano. 2020. “The Diversity of Engineering in Synthetic Biology.” Nanoethics 14 (1): 71–91. Sismour, Michael and Steven A. Benner. 2005. “Synthetic Biology.” Expert Opinion on Biological Therapy 5 (11): 1409–14. Söderberg, Johan and Alessandro Delfanti. 2015. “Hacking Hacked! The Life Cycles of Digital Innovation.” Science, Technology, & Human Values 40 (5): 793–8.

178

M. SIMONS

Swartz, Aimee. 2016. The Indie Scientist Who vows to leave no Mutation Behind. Popular Science. http://www.popsci.com/indie-scientist-who-vowsto-leave-nomutation-behind Thomas, Douglas. 2002. Hacker Culture. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Tocchetti, Sara and Angeli Aguiton, Sara. 2015. “Is an FBI Agent a DIY Biologist Like Any Other? A Cultural Analysis of a Biosecurity Risk.” Science, Technology, & Human Values, 40 (5): 825–853. Vaage, Nora S. 2017. “Fringe Biotechnology.” BioSocieties 12 (1): 109–31. Wickramasekara, Sajith. 2014. “Biotechnology Must Head for the Cloud.” BioCoder 2014 (Spring): 21–4. Wilbanks, Rebecca. 2017. “Real Vegan Cheese and the Artistic Critique of Biotechnology.” Engaging Science, Technology, and Society 3: 180–205. Wohlsen, Marcus. 2012. Biopunk: Solving Biotech’s Biggest Problems in Kitchens and Garages. New York: Current. Wolinsky, Howard. 2009. “Kitchen Biology.” EMBO Reports 10 (7): 683–5.

CHAPTER 8

Contesting Epistemic Authority: Conspiracy Theories on the Boundaries of Science Jaron Harambam and Stef Aupers

1

Introduction

Conspiracy theories1 —those allegations of secret machinations behind the screens of everyday reality—have long been understood as irrational narratives produced by extremists in the margins of political and social life (Hofstadter 2012 [1964]; Pipes 1997). However, in the last years it has become clear that they take the center stage in public debate and mainstream culture alike. Whether we speak of the various conspiratorial suspicions around the corona virus (Bruns, Harrington and Hurcombe 2020; Harambam 2020c; Shahsavari et al. 2020); US President Donald

This chapter is a slightly adapted version of an article published previously in Public Understanding of Science (2015), 24 (4): 466–80. Permission to reprint it is gratefully acknowledged. The research on which it is based was funded by the Netherlands Organization for Scientific Research (NWO) as part of the project ‘Conspiracy Culture in the Netherlands: Modernity Its Cultural Discontents,’ file number 404-10-438. J. Harambam (B) · S. Aupers Institute for Media Studies, University of Leuven, Leuven, Belgium © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_8

179

180

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

Trump flirting with Q-Anon accusations of a Deep State working against him, various forms of China-bashing, or vaccine suspicions (Barkun 2017; Hellinger 2018); narratives about the ‘real truth’ behind the terrorist attacks of 9/11, their European counterparts, or the deaths of John F Kennedy, princess Diana, and Bin Laden (Sunstein and Vermeule 2009; Wood, Douglas and Sutton 2012); or how discourses of conspiracy and deceit feature in various forms of popular culture (films, books, tvseries, music) (Boltanski 2014; Knight 2000), conspiracy theories, in all their variety, are part and parcel of mainstream contemporary culture (Harambam 2020b). This popularization of conspiracy theories is typically considered as symptomatic for an emerging ‘post-truth’ era, a society in which fake news and mis/disinformation rule and in which a general consensus about what constitutes fact and truth is ignored or even actively dismantled (McIntyre 2018; Lewandowsky, Ecker and Cook 2017). In such analyses, conspiracy theories are particularly juxtaposed with science-based knowledge (Biesecker 2018). Science, it is commonly argued, follows systematic procedures by qualified experts to find objective facts and arrive at empirically grounded conclusions. Conspiracy theories, on the other hand, are portrayed as baseless imaginations of paranoid demagogues who have no respect for scientific facts, methods, and ethics (D’Ancona 2017; Kakutani 2018; McIntyre 2018; Davis 2017). Conspiracy theorists are said to be ‘science denialists’ as they reject the core premises of the scientific paradigm: how objective knowledge is produced and evaluated by carefully established procedures and institutions (Waisbord 2018b). Psychologists argue how people with a ‘conspiracist worldview’ are vehemently ‘anti-science,’ even more than conservatives, and reject the truth of scientific consensuses about, e.g., man-made climate change or vaccine safety (Lewandowsky, Gignac and Oberauer 2013; Rutjens and Brandt 2019). Now these ideas about conspiracy theories as antiscience are neither new, nor specific to the post-truth era, but they are firmly grounded in a long history of academic literature on the topic (Harambam 2020b). In fact, the great philosopher of science Karl Popper postulated in one of the seminal works on conspiracy theories that they are ‘the very opposite of the true aim of the social sciences’ (Popper 2013, 306). But is that really so? Instead of assessing the rationality of conspiracy theories by using a conceptual yardstick of what established science really is or ideally should be, we take a cultural-sociological approach to study

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

181

in empirical detail how conspiracy theorists relate to science. Calling conspiracy theorists and their theories ‘unscientific’ or ‘irrational,’ after all, does not help us to disentangle the often complex, nuanced, and ambivalent understandings conspiracy theorists have of modern science. More than that: the use of such derogatory labels by academic scholars and media professionals alike obscure rather than clarify a thorough sociological understanding of the phenomenon and are only instrumental in excluding conspiracy theories from public debate (Bratich 2008; Husting and Orr 2007; Pelkmans and Machold 2011; Fassin 2011). Instead of simply dismissing conspiracy theories as ‘anti-science,’ we therefore use these claims and their advocates as a fruitful case study to analyze how people in contemporary culture resist the modern ‘regime of truth’ (Bratich 2008; Foucault 1970)—the institutions, experts, and discourses through which science has ‘the legitimate power to define, describe and explain bounded domains of reality’ (Gieryn 1999, 1). Conspiracy theorists do particularly challenge the authority of social scientists, since they like the latter to provide an account of social control (Melley 2000, 42) and ‘claim to uncover (supposedly) “hidden” plots or machineries which have caused a particular state of affairs or events to take place’ (Parker 2001, 191). In this chapter we address the question of how and why conspiracy theorists resist the authority of scientific institutions, scientists, and the knowledge they produce. Our analysis draws on twenty in-depth interviews with Dutch conspiracy theorists. Because academic accounts of conspiracy theories de facto contribute to the battle for epistemic authority, we first consider what images academics construct of conspiracy theorists and how and why they do so.

2 Boundary Work: Constructing Conspiracy Theories as the Other of Science Whereas academic work on conspiracy theories started during World War II (Popper 2013 [1945]) and in the middle of the Cold War (Hofstadter 2012 [1964]), scientific interest in the issue has substantially expanded from the 1990s onward. Scholars from different intellectual backgrounds have since then studied conspiracy theories—what they are, where they come from, and how they are to be understood. Conspiracy theories are not new. Narratives about the malevolent acts of Jews or the secret societies of Templars, Rosicrucians, Illuminati, and Freemasons have been

182

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

circulating in Western societies at least since the crusades in the early Middle Ages (Pipes 1997). Although such theories about an ‘exotic Other’ do still exist, some scholars argue that conspiracy theories are nowadays increasingly about ‘our own’ modern society, its institutions, and agents (Knight 2000; Melley 2000). Contemporary conspiracy theories do as such address ‘the enemy within’ (Goldberg 2001): they refer to the secret and malicious powers that allegedly lurk underneath the surface of modernity’s principal institutions, e.g., the state and politicians, science and scientists, media-industries and popstars, and others (Knight 2000; Harambam 2020b). Much of the debate is centered around the (ir)rationality of conspiracy theorists and the plausibility of their claims. Some scholars point to the potential rationality of conspiracy theories, if only because conspiracies do of course in fact exist (Coady 2006; Dentith 2018; Olmsted 2009; DeHaven-Smith 2013). They also point out how ‘the postmodern tendency to put “the real” in quotation marks has undermined the pathologization of paranoia’ (Melley 2000, 19). A paranoid habitus can, from such a perspective, be seen as a ‘tactical’ (Fenster 1999, xiii), ‘necessary’ (Knight 2000, 8), ‘reasonable’ (Marcus 1999, 2), ‘logical’ (Melley 2000, 14), and ‘understandable’ (Olmsted 2009, 11) response to the complexities and uncertainties of (post)modern society. The majority of scholars, however, still disqualify conspiracy theories as false claims about how reality works, which raises the question into the arguments they mobilize to sustain this allegation and how the latter’s virtual omnipresence can be explained sociologically. 2.1

Disqualifying Conspiracy Theories

First of all, academics critique the empirical, epistemological, and methodological flaws of conspiracy theories and, based on that, label them as ‘bad science.’ This common assumption is the heritage of Karl Popper who refuted conspiracy theories in The Open Society and Its Enemies (2013 [1945], 306–308). Like teleological historicism—as in the works of Hegel and Marx—conspiracy theories envisage whatever happens in society as intentionally designed. As an explanation of history, Popper claims, conspiracy theories fail because they downplay the unintended, unforeseen, or random consequences of human action. This argument has been recycled in the academic literature ever since: conspiracy theorists allegedly reduce ‘highly complex phenomena to simple causes’ (Barkun

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

183

2006, 7) and envision conspiracies ‘to drive history’ (Pipes 1997, 43). In reality, such authors claim, history does not work so simple and monocausally as conspiracy theorists have it, because there are simply ‘too many independent degrees of freedom’ (Keeley 1999, 124). This argument that conspiracy theorists are ‘bad scientists’ is also brought out in straightforward attacks on their methodologies. In line with Popper these scholars argue that conspiracy theorists are not interested in falsification, but do instead selectively seek evidence to confirm their theories. As such they ‘indiscriminately accept any argument that points to conspiracy’ (Pipes 1997, 41). Besides pointing out this ‘confirmation bias,’ academic scholars critique conspiracy theories for their alleged ‘self-sealing quality: they are resistant and in extreme cases invulnerable to contrary evidence’ (Sunstein and Vermeule 2009, 223). Adherents of conspiracy theories do in other words ultimately interpret evidence against an alleged conspiracy as evidence in favor of it. Herewith ‘they ultimately defeat any attempt at testing,’ and this ‘paradox of evidence’ renders conspiracy theories ‘at their heart unfalsifiable’ (Barkun 2006, 7). This is where a second, yet intrinsically related argument is introduced to disqualify conspiracy theories and their advocates: if conspiracy theories are no (or bad) science, they ultimately are unsubstantiated (religious) beliefs. Popper (2013 [1945], 306) envisions conspiracy theories as ‘the secularization of a religious superstition. The Gods are abandoned. But their place is filled by powerful men or groups—sinister pressure groups whose wickedness is responsible for all the evils we suffer from.’ Contemporary scholars follow up on this notion by regarding conspiracy theories as unwanted remnants from a religious past: ‘conspiracy theorists are some of the last believers in an ordered universe; [they] embody a thoroughly outdated worldview’ (Keeley 1999, 123). Conspiracy theories may be presented as ‘scientific,’ but they do in fact have more affinity with religious epistemologies: ‘no matter how much evidence their adherents accumulate, belief in a conspiracy theory ultimately becomes a matter of faith rather than proof’ (Barkun 2006, 7). Olmsted argues correspondingly that ‘conspiracists come to believe in their theories the way zealots believe in their religion: nothing can change their mind’ (2009, 11). Or, as C.A. James rhetorically asks himself, ‘are conspiracy theories just another religion, full of improvable beliefs, with nothing but faith to sustain them?’2 Religion, superstition, and magic are employed as tropes to widen the gap between science and conspiracy theories and

184

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

to construct the image that the latter are not just un-scientific but, ultimately, the counterpoint of the ‘rational’ enterprise of science. The popularity of conspiracy theories, these scholars warn, does not come without its costs. Pipes (1997, 171–185) devotes a chapter to their dangers and, like Robins and Post (1997), relates conspiracy theories to virtually all the horrors of the twentieth century. But these scholars also express concerns about the effects on science and truth. Conspiracy theorists are criticized for ‘muddying the waters’ (Pipes 1997, 30), so that ‘the commonsense distinction between fact and fiction melts away’ (Barkun 2006, 29), ‘we degrade to relativism’ and it becomes difficult to ‘distinguish between the scholarly and the slapdash, the committed researcher and the careless loudmouth, the scrupulous and the demagogic’ (Aaronovitch 2011, 335). Ultimately, what is critiqued are the ‘forged scientific practices’ of conspiracy theorists and their lack of ‘respect for truth and evidence’ (Showalter 1997, 206). 2.2

Resisting Boundary Work?

Many academics thus portray conspiracy theories as knowledge claims that share more with the interpretative framework of religion than that of science. But beyond merely showing the historical and epistemological affinity between conspiracy theories and religion, many of these scholars alarm us about the societal dangers of proliferating conspiracy theories. To some extent, this can be explained by these scholars’ historical and social situatedness. Popper, for instance, wrote about conspiracy theories in the dark days of the Second World War and aligned them with other totalitarian threats to his ideal of an ‘open society’ (DeHaven-Smith 2013, 76–106). Hofstadter saw liberal democracy at risk in the 1950s with their McCarthyism and visible rise of reactionary groups like the John Birch Society (Bratich 2008, 25–51; Fenster 1999, 3–21). Academic claims about conspiracy theorists as ‘bad scientists’ and ‘religious believers,’ then, are more than merely empirical descriptions. Precisely their situatedness points out that they are informed by moral considerations about a ‘good society’ and ‘real science’ (Bratich 2008; Fenster 1999; Harambam 2020b; Gieryn 1999). Even though the situational contexts of these scholars are markedly different, then, there is a similarity in the way they use ‘reason [as] a shibboleth for authority or academic prudence’ (Birchall 2006, 71) to create a wide gap between ‘irrational’ conspiracy theories and ‘rational’

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

185

scientific explanation. Such ‘descriptions of science as distinctly truthful, useful, objective or rational,’ Gieryn (1983, 792–793) argues, ‘may at best be seen as ideologies’ that are part of a ‘struggle for authority, power and resources.’ The appeals of these scholars to distinguish ‘the solid ground of fact from the swamp of fantasy’ (Pipes 1997, 38), and their efforts to actively downplay the similarities and exaggerate the differences between conspiracy theories and (social) scientific explanations, seem excellent examples of professional boundary work (Gieryn 1999; Locke 2009). These efforts exemplify what Bruno Latour (1993) calls modern ‘practices of purification’: efforts by scientists to erase the hybrids that disturb the boundaries between fact and value, truth and falsity, and science and belief. These scholars’ analyses of conspiracy theories thus reinforce the ‘modern divide’ between ‘rational’ science and its alleged ‘irrational’ counterparts. Boundary work has, of course, always been part and parcel of the scientific endeavor to defend, legitimate, and maintain its position in a broader field of knowledge production (Gieryn 1999; Shapin 2008). The history of science entails a ‘border war,’ since the boundaries with ‘other’ types of intellectual activity have never been either stable or permanently settled (Haraway 1991). Scientific boundary work becomes particularly urgent if scientific truth claims become increasingly questioned, however. Academic responses to conspiracy theories exemplify this: with conspiracy theorists publicly challenging the epistemic authority of science, an ‘interpretive contest’ (Melley 2000, 17) about truth is launched in which scientists ‘highlight those unique properties or accomplishments of science that make it a distinctively superior way of knowing’ (Gieryn 1999, 22). In this chapter, however, we do not focus on how academics create boundaries and discursively exclude conspiracy theorists from public debate. Instead, we study how such boundaries are contested, negotiated, and redefined by conspiracy theorists themselves. Social groups producing popular knowledge are, after all, neither passive nor powerless (Birchall 2006; Fiske 2010). More than that: conspiracy theorists are aware of the boundary work by scientists and their own stigma as ‘bad scientists’ and ‘religious believers.’ We therefore study in empirical detail how and why conspiracy theorists resist the authority of scientific institutions, scientists, and the knowledge they produce.

186

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

3

Methods, Data, and Analysis

The multisited ethnography (Falzon 2009) on which this chapter draws was conducted in the Netherlands over a period from November 2011 through January 2014. In what follows, we rely mostly on interview data collected among 20 respondents, selected on the basis of their diversity and prominence in the Dutch ‘conspiracy milieu.’ Much like Campbell’s (2002 [1972]) notion of the oppositional ‘cultic milieu,’ this is the relatively stable, yet always fluid movement of those who express ideas generally labeled as conspiracy theories. Respondents were recruited at several (online) places where these people gather: three at a David Icke performance (one of the most famous/notorious conspiracy theorists); two at a screening of the documentary Thrive (often linked to the conspiracy underground); three at rallies of the SOPN (Sovereign Independent Pioneers Netherlands), a political party running up for the Dutch national elections of 2012, dubbed the ‘UFO-Party’ in mainstream media); and ten on forums of popular Dutch conspiracy websites: three at argusoog.nl, three at zoekdewaarheid.nl, four on a Facebook conspiracy theories group page; and two through prior contacts. The respondents differ in age (23–67 years), gender (12 males and 8 females), and education (International Standard Classification of Education (ISCED) levels 0–3: 5 respondents; level 4: 6 respondents; levels 5–6: 9 respondents). The semi-structured in-depth interviews ranged from 1.5 to 5 hours and were mostly conducted at the homes of the respondents. The interviews primarily addressed the nature of their conspiratorial ideas, motivations, experiences, and activities in the context of their personal biographies and experiences with and ideas about modern institutions (politics, science, media, food and nutrition, health and medicine). We established our analytical categories inductively during the course of the fieldwork by means of systematic comparison, tracing recurrent observations to develop an analytical framework through saturation (Glaser and Strauss 1967; Charmaz 2006). Systematization was enhanced by making use of the qualitative data analysis software ATLAS.ti.

4

Contesting the Boundaries of Science

Conspiracy theories come in all shapes and sizes: from theories about a secret race of shape-shifting reptilians governing the world to radical suspicions about airplane trails. The people active in the conspiracy milieu

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

187

are no less diverse. In our sample we find, for instance, a single father of a young child living on welfare in the city of Amsterdam, a young student of economics, a retired psychotherapist living in an affluent suburb of a middle-sized Dutch town, and a 40-year-old squatter we visited in his ‘residence’ in the woods. And yet, it is not just plain diversity that characterizes the conspiracy milieu. What respondents have in common is, first of all, a very critical stance toward modern mainstream institutions and, closely related to that, the assumption that a powerful coalition of malicious groups de facto controls our lives. They are, however, no passive ‘believers,’ but (inter)actively deconstruct official versions of ‘the truth,’ consume alternative accounts, and simultaneously produce their own theories on forums, (their own) websites, or YouTube (Harambam 2020a). Their conspiratorial worldview is in most cases connected to an ‘alternative’ lifestyle: some are into organic, macro-biotic food, and have adopted eastern philosophies of life, others are involved in all kinds of (sub)political groups aimed at ‘waking up the dormant masses,’ whereas yet others try to change ‘the system’ from within by starting a fair trade business (Harambam and Aupers 2017). These social practices are fundamentally related to their ideas about science, particularly the authority of science. The scientific worldview, they all argue, is an overarching cultural force in the West that informs and legitimates the mainstream institutions of medicine, education, nutrition, health, politics, and law. Their critical stance toward science has a social dimension as well. When expressing their alternative understandings of ‘how things work,’ our respondents do not just question the knowledge of scientific experts, but also the authority that justifies it. They thus focus on the questions of who has the authority to explain how things work, and on which epistemological and social grounds such claims can actually be made. The ‘knowledge–power nexus,’ so prominent in the work of Michel Foucault, thus appears to be popularized in the cultural milieu of conspiracy thinkers, moreover not as abstract philosophical speculation, but in close connection to our respondents’ biographies and life histories. For their distrust of science has been fueled by personal encounters with medical specialists, doctors, university teachers, and other academics, especially these experts’ boundary work.

188

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

4.1

Scientific Dogmatism and the Spirit of Free Inquiry

All our respondents consider themselves skeptics and critical thinkers. They are, in their own words, ‘skeptic by nature’ (Michael, 23 years), ‘dare to think differently’ (Pauline, 67 years), ‘think out of the box’ (Lucy, 54 years), and ‘call almost everything into question’ (Steven, 29 years). Motivated by this self-proclaimed skepticism, they critique every form of ‘dogmatism,’ including the dogmas that, according to them, characterize modern science. On the most abstract level, they especially critique the materialist foundations of the scientific worldview. They argue how modern science labels phenomena that are inconsistent with its materialistic worldview as illusionary and they build their critical narratives around phenomena like telepathy, consciousness, and hands-on healing. They emphasize how scientists do not discard such ‘para-psychological’ phenomena on the basis of research or contradictory evidence, as a proper scientist would, but simply because their materialist worldview does not allow for their existence. They are, hence, left unaddressed and unexplained. Our respondents continuously emphasize that they embrace the scientific enterprise of accumulating accurate knowledge about the self, the world, and the universe. Yet, they argue that in today’s scientific institutions radical skepticism has evaporated and the spirit of free inquiry has got smothered by dogma. This is why Rupert Sheldrake (2012, 7) can characterize his book The Science Delusion, which delves into the nonmaterial world and is hugely popular in the conspiracy milieu, as ‘proscience.’ Liam (67 years), a former mayor of a middle-sized town and founder of a platform advocating governmental transparency about issues like chemtrails, vaccinations, and European food regulations, explains: So religion has been replaced by modern science in the Enlightenment, which has in my opinion only obscured matters. Because it said: ‘Reality, what is that? That is matter! All that there is, is what we can observe. And everything that does not fit this logic is speculation, that’s nonsense, that’s for charlatans.’ But this is such an unimaginable reduction. It is sad. If we know that matter represents only four percent of all there is in the universe, yet come to the situation that science defines that four percent as the only reality. What we do is looking through a keyhole and everything we cannot see is simply nonsense.

Material reductionism not only prohibits explorations into worlds unknown, respondents argue, but simultaneously denies the existence of

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

189

nonphysical powers, ‘for that doesn’t fit the regular way of thinking,’ Lucy, a 54-year-old holistic psychotherapist explains. She adds: If only we would start to imagine that when quantum physics shows how even scientists’ mood influences test results, how far reaching this all is. If only we start to realize what this means, we would think twice saying what is real and what is not, what is ridiculous or not.

These opinions about the existence of nonphysical phenomena are often grounded in and validated by the experience of the ‘supernatural’ in everyday life. Neal, a 58-year-old real estate project manager, explains how he got cured from permanent back aches: So there was this woman I knew via work. One day she put both her hands on my back. Three minutes or so, very quickly. ‘Do you feel anything?,’ she asked. I said, ‘No, not really.’ The next day I woke up without any pain in my back. Just like that, in one strike completely over. Something has happened to me then. If you experience that first hand, and I wasn’t even prepared to understand it, if that is possible, what more may be possible? So since then much of my reticence towards people’s odd stories disappeared. So from that moment on. Because for me there is no doubt about it. You start looking at things differently. It has set the door wide open, because I was really, eh…, well, a science kid.

Despite his technical background, and against all of his preconceptions, something supernatural like hands-on healing proved real to him and fed his critique on science, because ‘to know is to measure, and we measure nothing, so it isn’t there,’ as he said. The alleged dogmatism of science is said to be furthered by the socialization of scientists into an expert culture with its own particular assumptions and beliefs. This results, respondents argue, in the social exclusion and stigmatization of other, seemingly ‘deviant’ forms of knowledge. Steven, a 28-year-old employee of a green-energy supplier, explains about his encounters with scientists: ‘You know what it is: they have had a certain education, they have already received certain information, they are formed in a particular way. Their vision therefore excludes all others.’ A much-debated topic in this context is the effectiveness of vaccinations. Because of their education in modern medical science, it is argued, medical specialists no longer question their basic foundations: what vaccinations are, how they function, and whether there are alternatives. And

190

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

‘if they are being educated like that, and it’s a whole industry, there are hundreds of thousands making a living out of it. Yeah, well, that myth continues to exist then’ (Liam). Likewise, in the field of economics, Steven was struck by the scientific dogmatism he encountered during his studies: ‘I asked all professors, “Do you know where money comes from and how that mechanism works?” None of them could give a clear answer, so I investigated further on my own, because there is no room for such fundamental discussions.’ John (34 years), a holistic food adviser, encountered similar responses when talking about the topic of nutrition with an expert in the field: So I notice with this professor, in a simple discussion about vitamin B-12 deficits: ‘Oh, yeah, just buy some pills,’ he replies when I speak of bad nutrition as its cause. Completely stuck in his own way of thinking. Pills don’t do the same.

To conclude, our respondents argue that scientific advancements have turned knowledge into dogma and that the materialistic orthodoxy of scientists incarcerates the ‘spirit of free inquiry.’ They do not in any way deny or dismiss the relevance of science. Quite the contrary: their argument is basically that modern science is not scientific enough, since it has lost the openness and skepticism that should inform the habitus of ‘real’ scientists. Now modern science and its development have of course always had two faces since ‘science depends not [only] on the inductive accumulation of proofs but [also] on the methodological principle of doubt’ (Giddens 1991, 21). Radical skepticism about epistemological foundations and methodological rules has been an intricate part of the modern scientific enterprise since the sixteenth century. This ‘hidden agenda of modernity’ (Toulmin 1990) has always haunted the scientific quest for certainty, i.e., the Cartesian quest for de-contextualized, universal laws to legitimate the scientific enterprise. Such radical skepticism has nowadays found its way from the ivory towers of science to everyday life. Conspiracy theorists ‘calling almost everything into question’ exemplify this democratized form of skepticism and radical doubt.

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

4.2

Objectivity and the Social Construction of Knowledge

191

A second line of critique of modern science is directed at the purported neutrality or objectivity of scientific knowledge. Lucy (54 years) asserts, ‘Science always tests on the basis of certain assumptions. Yeah, one needs to start somewhere, of course, but there are already conditionalities.’ Universality is therefore an odd sort of ideal because, as William, a 25-year-old student explains: To look at something scientifically is to look at things in a particular way, or from a particular point of view. It is never impartial, so there’s no absolute truth either, because that is always approached from a certain perspective. It is always… biased.

Respondents often point out how ‘objective’ facts and figures presented by the scientific community are actually the product of selection and exclusion. The controversy around global warming is frequently brought up, since ‘reports showed how these scientists left out many data so that global warming appeared much stronger than it actually is’ (Neil, 58 years). Again, day-to-day experiences inform these critiques of the construction of ‘facts.’ Michael, a 23-year-old Business Administration major, noticed for example how prices of groceries went up much more than what official ‘inflation numbers’ could account for. After some research, he found out that some products that contribute to inflation were excluded from the latter’s measurement ‘to artificially keep inflation low.’ While the ideal of objective and universal scientific knowledge is built on the assumption that its production is free from power and financial interests, our respondents argue that this is a naive and unrealistic position. This is particularly so because scientists inevitably (and increasingly) depend on external funding for their research projects. John, for instance, argues that ‘scientific research is never independent, [because] from whom do they receive money?’ Mentioned most often is medical research, with respondents maintaining that it is highly dependent on and interconnected with ‘Big Pharma’ ‘Those scientific studies are very often financed by the pharmaceutical companies that produce those medications’ (Julie, 31 years). Following this logic, knowledge that is presented as the outcome of independent, disinterested, scientific research appears as an outcome of power games. To understand how this works, those concerned argue, we have to look at the context in which knowledge is

192

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

produced—the social, political, and economic forces that impinge upon it. As George, a 38-year-old male caregiver explains: You probably know that in all kinds of products there’s a sugar replacement called aspartame, that is approved by the European Commission. Well, little by little it becomes clear that aspartame is really bad for us. But how does it work with scientific research? In order to sweeten the products at less cost, research is done to get a certain ingredient approved that is cheaper than sugar. Numerous studies are done, and if the research agency or university comes with results that don’t satisfy the food producer they will look for another agency. They will do this until they can prove it is good, or at least not bad. That is the odd part: the food industry can command their own research and then have solid reports on the basis of which it is decided whether or not it should be allowed. ‘Hmmm thirty mice died, now let’s try it on rats, oh hey, the rats don’t die, it’s a good product!’ That’s how crooked things are…

The connection between research findings and financial interests, our respondents argue, makes it difficult—if not impossible—to take an informed standpoint in controversies about global warming, food safety, or medications. In public debates between scientists, citizens can never know for sure who is right and who is wrong, what is true and what is not. That said, it is generally felt that the most powerful and established organizations can least be trusted. As Robert (34 years) puts it: The strange thing is that those scientists confirming the conventional perspective are paid by organizations who have an interest in keeping us believing it is such. Those arguing against this don’t have the means and resources to make their findings public.

In conclusion, respondents in the conspiracy milieu argue that the ideal of objectivity is highly problematic: scientific ‘facts’ are not so much ‘discovered’ but ‘constructed,’ and this knowledge production is intimately related to political power and economic interests. Such popular claims resonate with assumptions in the social sciences. Authors like Berger and Luckmann (1966), for instance, have contributed to the sociology of knowledge by theorizing that reality, in all its forms and manifestations, is socially constructed. Postmodern theorists, in turn, have radicalized this constructivism by proclaiming the end of truth and reality themselves

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

193

(Baudrillard 1994). Although conspiracy theorists are definitely not radically relativistic, they do point to the ‘fuzzy,’ ‘messy,’ everyday practice of science that is inherently vulnerable to external interests—a notion developed by scholars in the social studies of science (Collins and Pinch 1993; Latour 1987; Law 2004). This notion that scientific knowledge is deeply embedded in politico-economic power structures has a strong affinity with critical, neo-Marxist theories in the social sciences. Marcuse (1991 [1964]) and Horkheimer and Adorno (2010 [1944]), for instance, have extensively argued that ‘reason’ (science, technology, and the bureaucratic apparatus) has lost its neutral status since it became increasingly aligned with the cultural logic of capitalism. Due to this process, scientific ‘objectivity’ has become a cover-up for the interests of the modern capitalistic enterprise—its hegemony, its material interests, and the social control it exerts. Likewise, our respondents argue that scientists ‘have an interest in keeping us believing’ that scientific findings are objective, neutral, and uncontested. Not unlike scholars from the Frankfurter Schule, they hold the general public (‘the sheeple’) to live in ‘false consciousness’ and consider it their moral task to reveal the real powers operative behind the scenes and to liberate citizens from their ignorance about science. 4.3

Power Elite: The Authority of Experts and Ideals of Equality

Building on the cultural status of science, experts enjoy an authoritative social position, which is unwarranted and problematic according to our respondents. They argue how alternative sources of knowledge are structurally undervalued as modern science upholds its monopoly on truth. In everyday life, our respondents feel excluded, mocked, and stigmatized as ‘crazy’ when they propose alternative ways of looking at the world. John, a 34-year-old nutritional health counselor, for instance, sees the credibility of his knowledge constantly being disputed: I am no medical expert, I am no doctor, so it’s not true, right? They ask me what my scientific background is, so I tell them about the anthroposophic studies I completed in Germany. But that’s not scientific, so it means nothing. Lately I’ve been asking my wife: ‘Should I also attend university and get a medical degree? More people would believe me.’ But why is that? Who decides that? I find it ridiculous.

194

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

Respondents question why experiential knowledge accumulated during the life course remains unacknowledged by experts who prioritize the ‘abstract’ and ‘detached’ knowledge of science. As Julie (31 years) says: But why? I am also a human being and I have done my study of life. So why? I have my own feelings and emotions and experiences. So why? Because you have studied you know how it works, right? When you haven’t studied you don’t count in this society.

The superior epistemological position of science finds its translation in everyday interactions between laypersons with experts. According to respondents like Julie (31 years), these interactions are structured in a hierarchical fashion, making an open and egalitarian conversation virtually impossible: It’s all like: ‘I have studied, I am a doctor. I know more than you, so I will enlighten you. You are a layperson.’ So already from moment A there is a hierarchy. And they just instruct you to have your baby vaccinated, because well, that’s procedure. So I said, ‘Listen, I’ve done my own research and I have this and that consideration.’ And the nurse at the clinic just sits there and does exactly what she’s taught to do: just copy and paste.

Instead of being told what to do in an authoritarian way, respondents emphasize the necessity of opportunities to engage in an open dialogue with experts. Pauline (67 years) confirms: I find it strange that people think: ‘Oh, these white-coated people, they know it all, so we follow, we surrender.’ Because they don’t know it all! As a human being I can decide how. I want to stay in charge and don’t want to surrender to doctors like that! I would like to have conversations about how we are going to fix things, what the other possibilities are.

As Lucy (54 years) stresses about her interactions with scientific experts, ‘We may have different roles, but we are equal. It’s not because you have a different role that your truth is worth more than mine.’ The message is this: experts should not let their scientific credentials and cultural authority define how they treat their patients; they rather should have an open relation with them and acknowledge their practical wisdom, feelings, and life experiences.

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

195

But respondents do also point out that how experts are legitimated and defended by peers with the same occupation, education, and cultural habitus. Particularly medical specialists are held to protect one another against outside threats and to collectively cover up failures. Such coverups, they hold, are moreover institutionalized in laws that protect the medical profession by weakening the judicial position of laypersons. According to Simon, a 40-year-old self-acclaimed victim, ‘there’s an oath of secrecy, and that oath is purely there for the protection of their profession. Even the experts informing the judges can exempt themselves, so how can there be any justice? That’s Kafka, you know.’ The precarious position of laypersons is particularly felt when social norms of in-group protection collide with institutionalized forms of professional protection. John (34 years) recounts how when his baby attracted sepsis during a medical treatment, the hospital tried to avoid responsibility by reporting the parents to the Council for Child Protection for underfeeding their baby and bringing it to the hospital too late: Of course, the hospital tried to save itself. They know the fault is theirs. They just thought, ‘Hey, before we get into trouble because of the death of that child, we report the parents and play it like they didn’t take care of her,’ resulting in her death. Luckily it’s all over now: we won in court, they acquitted us from further persecution. But are we going to do anything about the hospital? I mean, you always see, those in power just want to keep their dominant position. And they are very powerful. Doesn’t this tell you something about the system? Doesn’t a light bulb go off now? What is actually going on here with these hospitals and those in power?

All stories thus point toward structural inequalities between educated, scientifically trained experts, and laypersons. Scientists are considered an untouchable elite exerting social power over ‘ordinary people’ and are thought to operate in alliance with other elite members of society: politicians, multinationals, and medical industries. Such ideas, typical for conspiracy theorists, resonate with what C. Wright Mills (1956, 4) called the ‘power elite,’ a small group of people with great influence in the higher echelons of the major institutions: For they are in command of the major hierarchies and organizations of modern society. They rule the big corporations. They run the machinery of the state […]. They direct the military establishment. They occupy the strategic command posts of the social structure, in which are now centered

196

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

the effective means of the power and the wealth and the celebrity which they enjoy.

Scientists, our respondents argue, are part of such a power elite that protects its own interests and those of others in the ‘higher circles.’ In doing so, they exclude the interests of contemporary citizens.

5

Conclusion and Discussion

Despite the popularization and normalization of conspiracy theories in contemporary society, academics often neglect or dismiss such discourses as deeply ‘anti-scientific.’ There is, in the words of Fassin, still a tendency in academia ‘to underscore the irrationality of such beliefs without examining its meaning’ (2011, 41). We have approached the phenomenon from a cultural-sociological perspective and argued that this persistent disqualification of conspiracy theories is a form of ‘boundary work’ (Gieryn 1983): an ideological attempt to demarcate legitimate (social)scientific analysis (conceived as a value-free analysis of facts) from conspiracy theories (conceived as ‘non-scientific’ quasi-religious beliefs or superstition). The boundaries set by (social) scientists are, however, not uncontested and dismissing conspiracy theories as ‘irrational’ obscures rather than clarifies boundary work as well as conspiracy theorists’ reactions to it. We have therefore studied how and why conspiracy theorists resist the authority of scientific institutions, scientists, as well as the knowledge they produce. Our analysis demonstrates, first of all, that conspiracy theorists are overly critical of modern science, yet not straightforwardly against science as a way of describing and understanding the world. Acknowledging that conspiracy theorists often emulate scientific practices and credentials (Byford 2011; Pipes 1997), our analysis has focused on the motivations that underpin this ambivalent understanding of modern science. More than merely mimicking it in order to augment their own epistemic authority, conspiracy theorists rather wish to purify it by re-installing its spirit of free inquiry. Their critique is targeted at the allegedly dogmatic nature of scientific assumptions, the authority of scientific institutions, and, indeed, the epistemic and social boundary work performed by scientists to sustain the authority of science. Science, we may say, is at once sacralized for its intentions and demonized for its manifestations.

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

197

Ironically, this critique of science echoes social-scientific discourse about science. For academic scholars have also shown that the public image of science as detached from context is difficult to maintain if we look at the ‘messy backstage’ of science, vulnerable as it is to political interests and influences (Collins and Pinch 1993; Latour 1987; Law 2004). Scientific knowledge is not transcendent, but always and inevitably produced by people in particular times and settings (McCarthy 1996; Gieryn 1999; Shapin 2008). Conspiracy theorists popularize such notions: they deconstruct the public front-stage image of science and aim to reveal the social, economic, political powers that color its findings. This discourse resonates with postmodern skepticism about ‘grand narratives,’ social constructivist accounts of knowledge production, neoMarxist perspectives on the power of capital, and sociological assumptions about a power elite. Conspiracy culture is therefore a sort of popsociology (Birchall 2006; Knight 2000). But this works both ways, of course, because the critical theories of Marcuse, Horkheimer, and Adorno about ‘false consciousness’ do equally easily slide into conspiracy theory. Parker (2001, 192) goes so far as to say that ‘the holy trinity Marx, Durkheim and Weber all claimed access to some level of explanation which was somehow beyond the comprehension of ordinary people’ whereas ‘Marxism in general has functioned as a pervasive conspiracy theory for most of the century’ (idem, 198). Latour (2004, 229) similarly poses the rhetorical question: ‘What’s the real difference between conspiracists and a popularized version of social critique, inspired by, let’s say, a sociologist as eminent as Pierre Bourdieu?’ The adaptation of sociological insights by conspiracy theorists is a good example of what Giddens has dubbed the ‘double hermeneutic’ (Giddens 1984, 21). This trickling down of academic knowledge, and social critique in particular, into everyday life, may be yet another reason for academics to furiously demarcate their ‘scientific analyses’ from ‘conspiracy theories.’ This situates conspiracy theories at the heart of the ‘science wars,’ these clashes between scientific ‘realists’ and ‘constructivists’ about the objectivity of scientific knowledge and the ‘pollution of science’ by external factors. Interestingly, Bruno Latour (2004, 230), one of the most influential exponents of the ‘constructivist’ position, writes about conspiracy theories as ‘mad mixtures of knee-jerk disbelief [that] are an absurd deformation of our own arguments.’ Conspiracy theorists are here thus subjected to double boundary work: they are not only

198

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

excluded by academics defending the positivistic ideals of science, but also by scholars coming from the social studies of science. The question is, finally, why we should study conspiracy theorists and their critical theories in the first place. Over half a century ago, Robert Merton (1973 [1942], 267) stated that ‘a tower of ivory becomes untenable when its walls are under attack.’ Today, this is all the more true. Societal currents like Complementary and Alternative Medicine (CAM) testify to an increased distrust toward modern science among the population at large. Climate change critics use the rhetoric of science and constructivist ideas to dismantle the scientific consensus. Parents, including higher-educated urban hipsters, distrust medical science and do as such refuse vaccinations for their children. Of course, the erosion of scientific authority in Western countries may be considered a serious social problem, but this does not help our understanding much. Increased boundary work on behalf of science can moreover only validate contemporary critiques of its authority and will as such evoke an even more resolute return of the repressed.

Notes 1. Although the terms ‘conspiracy theories’ and ‘conspiracy theorists’ are derogatory and part of the epistemic power struggle that we study, we continue to use these terms for the sake of clarity and to avoid confusion, not in the least place because they are routinely used in public and academic discourse. 2. http://religionvirus.blogspot.nl/2010/02/911-conspiracy-theories-justanother.html.

References Aaronovitch, David. 2011. Voodoo Histories: How Conspiracy Theory has Shaped Modern History. London: Vintage Books. Barkun, Michael. 2006. A Culture of Conspiracy: Apocalyptic Visions in Contemporary America. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Barkun, Michael. 2017. “President Trump and the ‘Fringe’.” Terrorism and Political Violence 29 (3): 437–43. Baudrillard, Jean. 1994. Simulacra and Simulation. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press.

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

199

Berger, Peter L., and Thomas Luckmann. 1966. The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge. Garden City, NY: Anchor Books. Biesecker, Barbara A. 2018. “Guest Editor’s Introduction: Toward an Archaeogenealogy of Post-Truth.” Philosophy & Rhetoric 51 (4): 329–41. Birchall, Clare. 2006. Knowledge Goes Pop: From Conspiracy Theory to Gossip. Oxford: Berg. Boltanski, Luc. 2014. Mysteries and Conspiracies: Detective Stories, Spy Novels and the Making of Modern Societies. Cambridge: Polity Press. Bratich, Jack Z. 2008. Conspiracy Panics: Political Rationality and Popular Culture. New York, NY: SUNY Press. Bruns, Axel, Stephen Harrington, and Edward Hurcombe. 2020. “‘Corona? 5G? Or Both?’: The Dynamics of COVID-19 / 5G Conspiracy Theories on Facebook.” Media International Australia 177 (1): 12–29. Byford, Jovan. 2011. Conspiracy Theories: A Critical Introduction. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Campbell, Colin. 2002 [1972]. “The Cult, the Cultic Milieu and Secularization.” In The Cultic Milieu: Oppositional Subcultures in an Age of Globalization, edited by Jeffrey Kaplan and Heléne Lööw, 12–25. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press. Charmaz, Kathy. 2006. Constructing Grounded Theory: A Practical Guide through Qualitative Analysis. London: Sage. Coady, David. 2006. Conspiracy Theories: The Philosophical Debate. Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing. Collins, Harry M., and Trevor Pinch. 1993. The Golem: What Everybody Should Know about Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. D’Ancona, Matthew. 2017. Post-Truth: The New War on Truth and How to Fight Back. New York, NY: Random House. Davis, Evan. 2017. Post-Truth: Why We Have Reached Peak Bullshit and What We Can Do About It. London: Hachette, UK. DeHaven-Smith, Lance. 2013. Conspiracy Theory in America. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press. Dentith, Matthew R.X. 2018. Taking Conspiracy Theories Seriously. London: Rowman & Littlefield. Falzon, Mark-Anthony, ed. 2009. Multi-Sited Ethnography: Theory, Praxis and Locality in Contemporary Research. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing. Fassin, Didier. 2011. “The Politics of Conspiracy Theories: On AIDS in South Africa and a Few Other Global Plots.” The Brown Journal of World Affairs 17 (2): 39–50. Fenster, Mark. 1999. Conspiracy Theories: Secrecy and Power in American Culture. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Fiske, John. 2010. Understanding Popular Culture. London: Routledge.

200

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

Foucault, Michel. 1970. The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences. New York, NY: Pantheon Books. Giddens, Anthony. 1984. The Constitution of Society: Outline of the Theory of Structuration. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Giddens, Anthony. 1991. Modernity and Self-Identity: Self and Society in the Late Modern Age. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Gieryn, Thomas F. 1983. “Boundary-Work and the Demarcation of Science from Non-Science: Strains and Interests in Professional Ideologies of Scientists.” American Sociological Review 48 (6): 781–95. Gieryn, Thomas F. 1999. Cultural Boundaries of Science: Credibility on the Line. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Glaser, Barney G., and Anselm L. Strauss. 1967. The Discovery of Grounded Theory: Strategies for Qualitative Research. Chicago, IL: Aldine. Goldberg, Robert Alan. 2001. Enemies within: The Culture of Conspiracy in Modern America. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Harambam, Jaron. 2020a. “Conspiracy Theory Entrepreneurs, Movements and Individuals.” In Routledge Handbook of Conspiracy Theories, edited by Michael Butter and Peter Knight, 278–91. London: Routledge. Harambam, Jaron. 2020b. Contemporary Conspiracy Culture: Truth and Knowledge in an Era of Epistemic Instability. London: Routledge. Harambam, Jaron. 2020c. “Why We Should Not Treat All Conspiracy Theories the Same.” The Conversation, June 11, 2020. http://theconversation.com/ why-we-should-not-treat-all-conspiracy-theories-the-same-140022. Harambam, Jaron, and Stef Aupers. 2017. “‘I Am Not a Conspiracy Theorist’: Relational Identifications in the Dutch Conspiracy Milieu.” Cultural Sociology 11 (1): 113–29. Haraway, Donna. 1991. Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: The Reinvention of Nature. New York, NY: Routledge. Hellinger, Daniel C. 2018. Conspiracies and Conspiracy Theories in the Age of Trump. New York, NY: Springer. Hofstadter, Richard. 2012 [1964]. The Paranoid Style in American Politics. New York, NY: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Horkheimer, Max, and Theodor W. Adorno. 2010 [1944]. Dialectic of Enlightenment: Philosophical Fragments. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Husting, Ginna, and Martin Orr. 2007. “Dangerous Machinery: ‘Conspiracy Theorist’ as a Transpersonal Strategy of Exclusion.” Symbolic Interaction 30 (2): 127–50. Kakutani, Michiko. 2018. The Death of Truth: Notes on Falsehood in the Age of Trump. New York, NY: HarperCollins. Keeley, Brian L. 1999. “Of Conspiracy Theories.” The Journal of Philosophy 96 (3): 10926.

8

CONTESTING EPISTEMIC AUTHORITY: CONSPIRACY THEORIES …

201

Knight, Peter. 2000. Conspiracy Culture: From Kennedy to The X Files. London: Routledge. Latour, Bruno. 1987. Science in Action: How to Follow Scientists and Engineers through Society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Latour, Bruno. 1993. We Have Never Been Modern. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Latour, Bruno. 2004. “Why Has Critique Run out of Steam? From Matters of Fact to Matters of Concern.” Critical Inquiry 30 (2): 225–48. Law, John. 2004. After Method: Mess in Social Science Research. London: Routledge. Lewandowsky, Stephan, Gilles E. Gignac, and Klaus Oberauer. 2013. “The Role of Conspiracist Ideation and Worldviews in Predicting Rejection of Science.” PLOS ONE 8 (10): e75637. Lewandowsky, Stephan, Ullrich K. H. Ecker, and John Cook. 2017. “Beyond Misinformation: Understanding and Coping with the ‘Post-Truth’ Era.” Journal of Applied Research in Memory and Cognition 6 (4): 353–69. Locke, Simon. 2009. “Conspiracy Culture, Blame Culture, and Rationalisation.” The Sociological Review 57 (4): 567–85. Marcus, George E. 1999. Paranoia within Reason: A Casebook on Conspiracy as Explanation. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Marcuse, Herbert. 1991 [1964]. One-Dimensional Man. London: Routledge. McCarthy, E. Doyle. 1996. Knowledge as Culture: The New Sociology of Knowledge. London: Routledge. McIntyre, Lee. 2018. Post-Truth. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Melley, Timothy. 2000. Empire of Conspiracy: The Culture of Paranoia in Postwar America. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Merton, Robert K. 1973 [1942]. “The Normative Structure of Science.” In The Sociology of Science: Theoretical and Empirical Investigations, edited by Robert K. Merton, 267–80. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Mills, C. Wright. 1956. The Power Elite. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Olmsted, Kathryn S. 2009. Real Enemies: Conspiracy Theories and American Democracy, World War I to 9/11. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Parker, Martin. 2001. “Human Science as a Conspiracy Theory.” In The Age of Anxiety: Conspiracy Theory and the Human Sciences, edited by Jane Parish and Martin Parker, 191–207. Oxford: Blackwell. Pelkmans, Mathijs, and Rhys Machold. 2011. “Conspiracy Theories and Their Truth Trajectories.” Focaal 2011 (59): 66–80. Pipes, Daniel. 1997. Conspiracy: How the Paranoid Style Flourishes and Where It Comes From. New York, NY: Free Press. Popper, Karl. 2013 [1945]. The Open Society and Its Enemies. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

202

J. HARAMBAM AND S. AUPERS

Robins, Robert Sidwar, and Jerrold M. Post. 1997. Political Paranoia: The Psychopolitics of Hatred. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Rutjens, Bastiaan T., and Mark J. Brandt. 2019. Belief Systems and the Perception of Reality. London: Routledge. Shahsavari, Shadi, Pavan Holur, Timothy R. Tangherlini, and Vwani Roychowdhury. 2020. “Conspiracy in the Time of Corona: Automatic Detection of Covid-19 Conspiracy Theories in Social Media and the News.” http://ArXiv:2004.13783 [Cs], April. http://arxiv.org/abs/2004.13783. Shapin, Steven. 2008. The Scientific Life: A Moral History of a Late Modern Vocation. Chicago, IL: Chicago University Press. Sheldrake, Rupert. 2012. The Science Delusion. London: Coronet. Showalter, Elaine. 1997. Hystories: Hysterical Epidemics and Modern Culture. New York, NY: Columbia University Press. Sunstein, Cass R., and Adrian Vermeule. 2009. “Conspiracy Theories: Causes and Cures.” Journal of Political Philosophy 17 (2): 202–27. Toulmin, Stephen. 1990. Cosmopolis: The Hidden Agenda of Modernity. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Waisbord, Silvio. 2018a. “The Elective Affinity between Post-Truth Communication and Populist Politics.” Communication Research and Practice 4 (1): 17–34. Waisbord, Silvio. 2018b. “Truth Is What Happens to News.” Journalism Studies 19 (13): 1866–78. Wood, Michael J., Karen M. Douglas, and Robbie M. Sutton. 2012. “Dead and Alive: Beliefs in Contradictory Conspiracy Theories.” Social Psychological and Personality Science 3 (6): 767–73.

CHAPTER 9

A Science Confidence Gap: Education, Trust in Scientific Methods, and Trust in Scientific Institutions in the United States, 2014 Peter Achterberg, Willem de Koster, and Jeroen van der Waal

1

Introduction

Many observers note that ‘the relationship between the scientific community and the general public has never been worse in living memory’

This chapter has been published previously in Public Understanding of Science (2017, 26 (6): 704–20), even though especially the opening and concluding sections have been slightly adapted to better fit the logic and argument of this book. Permission to reprint it is gratefully acknowledged. P. Achterberg (B) Department of Sociology, Tilburg University, Tilburg, The Netherlands e-mail: [email protected] W. de Koster · J. van der Waal Department of Public Administration and Sociology, Erasmus University Rotterdam, Rotterdam, The Netherlands © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8_9

203

204

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

(Haerlin and Parr 1999, 49, see also King and Short 2017) and suggest that the authority of science is under threat (Clevers 2013). Yet, the available empirical research on the issue points out that trust in science varies across different aspects of the scientific endeavor (Durant, Evans and Thomas 1989; Miller 2004; Ziman 1991). These studies indicate that it is important to distinguish between trust in scientific principles and methods on the one hand and trust in current scientific institutions on the other, because the former does not imply the latter, nor the other way around. Recent research indicates that among certain social categories, engagement with scientific principles and methods is high, while trust in the institutional dimension of science is low. For example, the influential British House of Lords report on Science and Society notes: ‘While people appear to have an appetite for popular science, the paradox is that this is accompanied by increasing scepticism about the pronouncements of scientists on science-related policy issues of all types’ (House of Lords 2000, 2.2). Similarly, Millstone and van Zwanenberg (2000, 1307) argue that those who talk about a crisis in trust should not mistake ‘a deep suspicion’ of institutions of science for mistrust in science as a whole. This suggests that it is not so much science in general that is under attack, but present-day scientific institutions. Somehow, large parts of the contemporary Western public thus appear to combine distrust in scientists and the organizations in which they are embedded (which we will refer to as ‘institutional distrust’ or ‘distrust in scientific institutions’) with trust in scientific principles and scientific methods (referred to as ‘trust in scientific methods’ for brevity’s sake). Various observations on groups commonly understood as ‘adversaries of science’ do indeed point out that distrust in scientific institutions does not necessarily go together with low trust in scientific principles and methods. Recent research on the so-called conspiracy culture—in which the authority of scientific knowledge as produced by scientific actors is fiercely rejected—demonstrates that conspiracists actively express scientific ambitions: ‘It is considered a calling to unravel […] mysteries through rational enquiry, by critically looking into every detail that may lead one to the ultimate truth “out there”’ (Aupers 2012, 30; see also Harambam and Aupers, Chapter 8). Similarly, Locke (1999, 86) indicates that ‘socalled “anti-scientists,”’ such as creationists, ‘present descriptions of the world which they attempt to invest with factual status through the use of the rhetoric and practice of empiricism with its passive voice formulations, its emphasis on data, and even, at times, its appeal to laboratory tests and

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

205

experiment.’ Finally, a recent in-depth study (Ten Kate, De Koster and Van der Waal 2021) on parents who are highly skeptical of scientific institutions related to vaccines concluded: ‘The skepticism of parents applying a critical-reflexive repertoire is not because they are uninformed or have an aversion to modern science. Instead, their doubts [about the Dutch national immunization program] arise from the view that the science upon which it is based is not scientific enough.’ Clearly, then, among parts of the public, distrust in the institution of science is low or even lacking altogether, even though their trust in scientific methods is high. These studies suggest that, parallel to a democratic confidence gap (Norris 2011), there may also exist a science confidence gap, i.e., a situation in which people combine trust in scientific methods on the one hand with distrust of scientific institutions on the other. Our research question asks whether a gap exists between trust in scientific methods and trust in scientific institutions among the public, and, if so, how this gap can be explained. To answer this question, we elaborate on why a gap between trust in scientific methods and trust in scientific institutions might exist, which inspires various hypotheses. We test these hypotheses using a public opinion survey among the U.S. population conducted in 2014.

2 Two Explanations for a Science Confidence Gap If a gap exists between trust in scientific methods and institutional trust in science, scholarship on confidence gaps regarding political (Norris 2011), government, business, and labor institutions (Lipset and Schneider 1983) might provide a starting point for explaining it. In her book on the democratic deficit, Norris explains that people have far more confidence in the principles underlying western democracies than in political institutions, political parties, and politicians. Norris’ approach focuses on how political systems themselves contribute to the growth of such a democratic deficit. In contrast, we focus on citizens’ attitudes, analyzing whether there is a confidence gap between their trust in scientific methods and their trust in scientific institutions, and how this can be explained. Notwithstanding the variety of institutional settings, and leaving aside the issue of cross-national differences, the aforementioned studies suggest that there are remarkable differences between the more and the less educated, which we take as a promising starting point. We distinguish

206

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

two sets of expectations that link educational differences to varying widths of the science confidence gap introduced above: the first focusing on theorizing about reflexive modernization, the second on theorizing about modern-day discontents and anomia. 2.1

A ‘Reflexive’ Science Confidence Gap

Reflexive-modernization theory (Beck, Giddens and Lash 1994) offers a first possible explanation for a science confidence gap. While non-reflexive accounts of modernization suggest that both trust in scientific methods and trust in science and technology are higher among the more educated (Lahsen 2008; Inglehart and Welzel 2005, 27, see also Bauer, Allum and Miller 2007), reflexive-modernization theory provides two reasons for expecting that the more educated have more trust in scientific methods, while simultaneously being very critical of institutions in general, and scientific institutions in particular. First, the better educated are arguably more able than their less welleducated counterparts to reflexively approach science and note the failures of the scientific project. As Ten Kate, De Koster and Van der Waal (2021) put it: ‘socialization in universities does not unequivocally translate into trust in science, but can instill a critical-reflexive attitude that is used to criticize science and its products.’ This is in line with Beck’s (1992) seminal observation that some members of the public in the most modern countries may have grown to believe that science and technology cannot fully protect people from the various risks they face. In contrast, scientific and technological failures are even held responsible for increased risks (Beck 1992, see also Giddens 1994). As this type of reflexive thinking requires well-developed cognitive abilities, access to scientific information, and a so-called reflexive mindset (De Keere 2010), it is to be expected that it is particularly found among the better educated. Consequently, reflexive-modernization theory implies that the high level of knowledge and cognitive skills found among the more educated (Norris 2011; Allum et al. 2008) translates into distrust of the institution of science. In short: as the more educated are better informed about scientific institutions (which we refer to as ‘institutional knowledge’) than their less-educated counterparts, the former might be more critical of scientific institutions. If so, this would resonate with findings on confidence gaps in other modern institutions. Norris (2011), for instance, demonstrated that a democratic confidence gap is mainly present among the better educated, because of

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

207

their cognitive skills. In addition, research shows that science and technology are more contested and debated among the more than among the less educated (Nisbet and Markovic 2014). The second reason why reflexive-modernization theory suggests that the better educated have a stronger anti-institutional inclination is their tendency to embrace reflexive-modern values. Put differently, they display a critical stance toward, or even a rejection of, traditional ways of thinking, feeling, and acting. Numerous studies indeed demonstrate that the more educated embrace ‘culturally progressive,’ ‘post-traditional,’ or ‘morally relativist’ values much more strongly than the less educated do (e.g., Inglehart 1977; Stubager 2010; Houtman, Achterberg and Derks 2008; Achterberg, Raven and Van der Veen 2013). This cultural divide, pitting ‘culturally progressive’ liberals against those who are ‘culturally conservative,’ grew in salience since the 1960s counterculture (Hunter 1992). It might be relevant for the science confidence gap, because those who are culturally progressive (i.e., the better educated) question the authority of established institutions (see Beck, Giddens and Lash 1994; De Keere 2010). In fact, such a culturally progressive stance is attributed to the reflexive thinking instilled in higher education institutions, most notably universities (Feldman and Newcomb 1994; Gabennesch 1972). As such, it can be expected that the reflexive-modern values of the better educated are not restricted to their rejection of traditional institutions (such as churches), which has been demonstrated time and again (e.g., Houtman and Aupers 2007), but also inspire criticism toward modern institutions like science (Beck 1992). Reflexive-modernization theory thus provides two reasons to expect that the more educated demonstrate higher levels of distrust in the institution of science than their less-educated counterparts. However, this does not imply that the better educated are more skeptical toward science in general. On the contrary, it suggests that the better educated combine their institutional distrust with high trust in scientific methods. The literature on reflexive modernization indicates that people approach modernity itself in a modern way, i.e., they address modernity, and the new risks it entails, analytically and critically in an attempt to identify man-made solutions to risks they manufactured themselves (Giddens 1994). As Ekberg (2007, 352) puts it: ‘This leads to the general conclusion that risks of modernization are scientized and the solution to modernization risks is more science.’ Reflexive individuals—i.e., the better educated who are well-endowed with both institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern

208

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

values (Inglehart and Welzel 2005)—will, therefore, be more inclined to trust scientific methods and promote solutions offered by science itself. As such, reflexive-modernization theory predicts that the same characteristics that may underlie the institutional distrust of the more educated also govern their high trust in scientific methods. 2.2

An ‘Anomic’ Science Confidence Gap

A second branch of literature diametrically opposes the ideas discussed above, suggesting that the less instead of the more educated demonstrate the largest gap between trust in scientific methods and trust in scientific institutions. This alternative expectation is not inspired by reflexive modernization’s emphasis on institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values, but stems from theorizing on modernity-induced feelings of cultural malaise or cultural discontents, often referred to as ‘anomie.’ Building on Srole’s seminal conceptualization (1956), anomie is understood here as feeling threatened by the complexities of the contemporary social and cultural order, which is considered to be fickle, unpredictable, disorderly, and devoid of meaning. It has been demonstrated time and again that the less educated in particular are affected by this so-called ‘malady of modernity’ (Zijderveld 2000): they show higher levels of anomie than the more educated (Roberts and Rokeach 1956; Lutterman and Middleton 1970; Achterberg and Houtman 2009). The literature on anomie predicts that the largest science confidence gap is present among the less educated, because anomie coincides with low levels of institutional trust, yet also with high levels of trust in scientific methods. Anomie is likely to be accompanied by distrust in the institution of science because this institution is an aspect of the more encompassing, complex, contemporary cultural order. Those who are anomic feel threatened by modern institutions due to their inability to grasp and influence the impersonal, meaningless social forces of modernity’s fickle, complex, and unpredictable order (Srole 1956; Zijderveld 2000). The anomic distrust scientific institutions, because these are part and parcel of this unpredictable order. This resonates with Gauchat’s (2011, 755) claim that people who suffer from modernity-induced maladies like anomie experience a mismatch between the influence of abstract bureaucratic systems and experts on the one hand, and their own capacity to shape and control these systems on the other (see Achterberg 2006; Zijderveld 2000),

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

209

which leads them to distrust these institutions. Research demonstrates that trust in science is indeed lower among those with more anomie (De Keere 2010). All this indicates that anomie is likely to erode trust in scientific institutions. However, it is problematic to assume that those who are anomic simply question all aspects of the scientific project. In contrast, while feelings of anomie might be responsible for distrust in scientific institutions, they might at the same time spark trust in scientific methods. The key to this seemingly contradictory expectation can be found in the classic work of Berger, Berger and Kellner (1973) who, in their discussion of the corollaries of anomic feelings, as conceptualized here, recall that those who suffer from anomie have two options. The first is to opt out, which is reflected in the institutional distrust characteristic of the anomic. The second option, however, is to try to restore a meaningful institutional order, which calls for activism instead of passivism. As science, especially in its positivistic guise, is likely to be regarded as the most promising way to comprehend the world we live in, it may well be that people who are anomic combine distrust in scientific institutions with strong trust in scientific methods. After all, if one experiences the contemporary cultural order as complex, confusing, and devoid of meaning, any efforts to restore it, including scientific ones, are likely to be appreciated (Misztal 2013). In other words, while the anomic may distrust the institutional bastions of science, this does not mean that they deem the principles and methods of science inapt. In contrast, they may well consider science to be an appropriate way to re-establish cultural order, which would imply that anomie translates into high, instead of low, trust in scientific methods. Research regarding another modern institution—the welfare state—also indicates that distrust of modern institutions can go together with appreciation of their underlying principles: anomie detracts from support for welfare institutions, while, simultaneously, does not in any way affect support for the egalitarian principles underlying the welfare state (Houtman, Achterberg and Derks 2008; Achterberg, Houtman and Derks 2011). 2.3

Summary and Hypotheses

The reflexive-modernization perspective suggests that especially the more educated, who are characterized by ample institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values, combine distrust in scientific institutions with

210

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

high trust in scientific methods. More specifically, following the reflexivemodern argument we expect to find higher trust in scientific methods among the more educated than among the less educated, because of their institutional knowledge (Hypothesis 1a) and reflexive-modern values (Hypothesis 1b). In addition, we anticipate that the more educated will have less trust in scientific institutions than the less educated, because of their higher institutional knowledge (Hypothesis 2a) and more reflexivemodern values (Hypothesis 2b). Consequently, we expect to find a larger gap between trust in scientific methods and institutional trust in science among the more than the less educated (Hypothesis 3a), because the better educated have more institutional knowledge (Hypothesis 3b) and more reflexive-modern values (Hypothesis 3c). In contrast, the second perspective, focusing on educational differences in anomie, predicts that a science confidence gap is mainly present among the less educated. Following this perspective, we expect that the less educated trust scientific methods more strongly than the more educated because of their higher level of anomie (Hypothesis 4). In addition, we anticipate that they have less trust in scientific institutions than their more educated counterparts because of their higher level of anomie (Hypothesis 5). Hence, we expect to find a larger gap between trust in scientific methods and institutional trust in science among the less educated (Hypothesis 6a), because of their higher level of anomie (Hypothesis 6b). Figure 1 graphically depicts the expectations discussed above.

3

Data and Measures 3.1

Data

To test the hypotheses formulated above, we hired the services of GfK Group (formerly Knowledge Networks) to gather data in the United States in 2014 (Van der Waal, Achterberg and De Koster 2014), as part of a wider research project on, among others, institutional trust in politics, the judiciary, and science. The target population consists of noninstitutionalized adults aged 18 and over residing in the United States. In total, 3966 people were sampled from a probability-based panel that was carefully designed to be representative of the United States. The survey was completed by 2062 respondents, which means that the response rate was 52 percent.1 We excluded from the analyses respondents who completed the survey in ten minutes or less, as they had not spent the

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

Institutional knowledge

211

+ _

+

Trust in scientific methods

+

Education

_

Trust in scientific institutions

Reflexive-modern values

_ A science confidence gap

Anomie

Fig. 1 Hypothesized relationships (gray arrows depict the reflexivemodernization explanation, black arrows depict the anomie explanation)

time that was reasonably needed to provide valid responses. This left a dataset of 2006 respondents for the analyses discussed below, to which we applied a weight supplied by the data collector to adjust for survey non-response. 3.2

Measures

We measure trust in scientific institutions with three items, included in different sections in the survey, which tap trust in (1) the institution of science in general (‘Please indicate your confidence in science’), (2) scientists (‘Please indicate your confidence in scientists’), and (3) the knowledge produced by these scientists (‘Ultimately, scientific knowledge is nothing but an opinion’). Participants responded on scales ranging from ‘no confidence at all’ (0) to ‘a lot of confidence’ (10) for the first two items and from ‘strongly agree’ (0) to ‘strongly disagree’ (10) for the third one. After reversing the coding of the latter this produced scores 6 or higher for, respectively, 58.1, 57.2, and 18.1 percent of the respondents. We measure trust in scientific methods by the respondents’ level of agreement (on a 0–10 scale) with the following statement: ‘Knowledge

212

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

can only be obtained through unbiased systematic research.’ Achterberg (2015) demonstrated that this item clusters with other items tapping trust in scientific methods and research among the Dutch public, which can be empirically distinguished from trust in the institution of science. This indicates that this item can be utilized as a valid indicator for trust in scientific methods. Among our participants, 46.1 percent scored 6 or higher on this measure. The results section below discusses how we employed the items measuring trust in scientific institutions and trust in scientific methods for creating a variable measuring a science confidence gap. We measure institutional knowledge with validated measures for political (Delli Carpini and Keeter 1996, 304–306) and economic knowledge (Prior and Lupia 2008). These items measure institutional knowledge more generally than specific knowledge on scientific institutions, but research demonstrates that measures of knowledge of various institutions are substantially correlated and often have similar correlations with level of education and other indicators of cognitive ability (Ackerman 2000, 78–79; Beier and Ackerman 2003, 444). The items used to measure institutional knowledge (with correct answers italicized) are: 1. Do you happen to know what job or political office is now held by Joe Biden? [Open question: Vice President ]. 2. Whose responsibility is it to determine if a law is constitutional or not? Is it: (1) The President, (2) The Congress, (3) The Supreme Court, (4) Don’t know. 3. How much of a majority is required for the U.S. Senate and House to override a presidential veto? (1) 51 percent, (2) Two-thirds majority, (3) Three-quarters majority, (4) Don’t know. 4. Do you happen to know which party had the most members in the House of Representatives in Washington before the election in 2012? (1) Republicans, (2) Democrats, (3) Don’t know. 5. Would you say that one of the parties below is more conservative than the other at the national level? (1) Yes, Democrats more conservative, (2) Yes, Republicans more conservative, (3) No, both the same, (4) Don’t know. 6. Compared with the citizens of Western European countries, do you think Americans pay a higher percentage of their income in taxes, a smaller percentage of their incomes in taxes, or about the same percentage of their incomes? (1) A higher percentage, (2) A smaller percentage, (3) About the same percentage, (4) Don’t know.

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

213

7. By this definition, what percentage of Americans was unemployed last month? (1) Around 3 percent, (2) Around 5 percent, (3) Around 7 percent, (4) About 9 percent, (5) Around 11 percent, (6) Don’t know. 8. What percentage of Americans leaves enough money to others for the federal estate tax to kick in? (1) Less than 5 percent of all Americans, (2) About 25 percent of all Americans, (3) About 50 percent of all Americans, (4) About 70 percent of all Americans, (5) About 90 percent of all Americans, (6) Don’t know. Correct answers were coded 1 and other responses 0. A factor analysis yields a first factor that explains 36 percent of the variance with an Eigenvalue of 2.88. We created a reliable scale (Cronbach’s α = 0.73, M = 0.55, SD = 0.28) by linearly combining the items for respondents with at least seven non-missing answers. Higher scores indicate more institutional knowledge. We measure reflexive-modern values with a combination of seven items (borrowed from ANES, GSS, and the Longitudinal Study of Generations), which indicate the extent to which respondents question moral traditionalism concerning issues such as the family, sexuality, and gender roles. These items have been used in previous research (e.g., Carmines and Woods 2004; Knuckey 2005; Moulton, Hill and Burdette 2006; Scott 1998). They are: 1. The newer lifestyles are contributing to the breakdown of our society. 2. The world is always changing, and we should adjust our view of moral behavior to those changes. 3. This country would have fewer problems if there were more emphasis on traditional family ties. 4. Sexual relations between two adults of the same sex are always wrong. 5. Abortion should never be permitted. 6. When a person has a disease that cannot be cured, doctors should be allowed by law to end the patient’s life by some painless means if the patient and their family request it. 7. It goes against nature to place women in positions of authority over men.

214

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

Response categories range from 0 (Strongly disagree) to 10 (Strongly agree). Factor analysis of these items indicates a first factor with an Eigenvalue of 3.20, explaining 45.8 percent of the variance. After reverse coding of all items except the second and sixth, we constructed a reliable scale for reflexive-modern values by linearly combining the items for respondents with at least six valid answers (Cronbach’s α = 0.81, M = 5.52, SD = 2.23). Higher scores indicate a more critical stance toward traditional ways of thinking, feeling, and acting, and thus a more reflexive-modern position. We measure anomie with four items, some of which are also used in Srole’s (1956) seminal article and subsequently in both classic (e.g., Lutterman and Middleton 1970; Roberts and Rokeach 1956) and contemporary studies (e.g., Achterberg and Houtman 2009; De Koster et al. 2010; Van der Waal et al. 2010) aimed at scrutinizing anomie’s corollaries. The response categories range from 0 (Strongly disagree) to 10 (Strongly agree). The items are: 1. These days a person doesn’t really know whom he or she can count on. 2. Nowadays, a person has to live pretty much for today and let tomorrow take care of itself. 3. It’s hardly fair to bring a child into the world with the way things look for the future. 4. You sometimes can’t help wondering whether anything is worthwhile anymore. Factor analysis of the responses to these items yielded a first factor with an Eigenvalue of 2.50, explaining 62.6 percent of the variance within the items. We constructed a reliable scale for anomie (Cronbach’s α = 0.78, M = 4.32, SD = 2.31) by linearly combining these items for respondents with four valid answers. Education level was measured by the highest degree of education attained by the respondent, ranging from (1) ‘No formal education’ to (14) ‘Professional or doctorate degree’ (M = 10.14, SD = 2.00). We include various control variables in our analyses. Age in years (M = 47.42, SD = 17.05), gender (0 for males, 1 for females, M = 0.52, SD = 0.50), and annual household income in 19 categories, ranging from ‘less than $5,000’ to ‘$175,000 or more’ (M = 11.79, SD = 4.52).

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

215

We further control for race/ethnicity (dummy variables for non-Hispanic white [reference category, 67 percent of our respondents], non-Hispanic black [11 percent], non-Hispanic multiracial [1 percent], non-Hispanic other [6 percent], and Hispanic [14 percent]), religious denomination (dummies for no religious denomination [reference category, 27 percent], Protestant [30 percent], Catholic [22 percent, and other religious denomination [22 percent]), and attendance at religious services (‘Never’ coded as no attendance [reference category, 24 percent], ‘Less than once a year’ to ‘About once a month’ coded as occasional attendance [42 percent], and ‘2-3 times a month’ to ‘Several times a week’ coded as frequent attendance [34 percent]).

4

Results

Before testing our hypotheses aimed at explaining a gap between trust in scientific methods and trust in scientific institutions, we need to empirically establish whether such a gap exists. A necessary condition is that trust in scientific methods and trust in scientific institutions can be empirically discerned. In other words, we should find little or no convergence between the measures for trust in scientific institutions on the one hand and the measure for trust in scientific methods on the other. Below, we set out the results of a rotated factor analysis, which clearly signifies a two-factor structure in the data.2 Table 1 demonstrates that the respondents’ trust in scientific methods, as measured by the fourth item (M = 5.53, SD = 2.68), can be empirically distinguished from the responses to the first three items, which tap trust in scientific institutions (see Achterberg 2015 for similar findings among the Dutch public). We, therefore, created a scale for trust in scientific institutions by linearly combining the first three items for respondents with three valid answers (M = 6.27, SD = 2.15). Higher scores on this reliable scale (Cronbach’s α = 0.81) stand for more trust in scientific institutions. As suggested by the bi-dimensional structure indicated by the factor analysis presented in Table 1, the correlation between trust in scientific methods and trust in scientific institutions is low: r = 0.11 (p = 0.001). Hence, the extent to which someone trusts scientific methods is not a good predictor of their trust in scientific institutions, or vice versa. For some, trust in scientific institutions and trust in scientific methods are in sync, while for others high trust in the scientific method goes together

216

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

Table 1 Factor analysis on items measuring trust in scientific institutions and trust in scientific methods (principal-component factors, varimax rotation with normalization, pattern matrix, N = 1921) Items • • • •

Please indicate your confidence in science Please indicate your confidence in scientists Ultimately, scientific knowledge is nothing but an opiniona Knowledge can only be obtained through unbiased systematic research Eigenvalue R2 Cronbach’s α (of first three items)

Factor 1

Factor 2

0.90 0.89 0.76 0.05

0.15 0.15 −0.15 0.98

2.19 0.55 0.81

1.03 0.26 –

Data source Van der Waal, Achterberg and De Koster (2014) a Coding reversed

with low trust in scientific institutions. This means that it is possible to create a third variable, indicating a science confidence gap, in a similar way to Norris’s (2011) approach to studying a democratic confidence gap: we subtracted the score of a respondent’s trust in scientific institutions from their score on trust in scientific methods. Now that we have established the existence of a science confidence gap, our next step is to explain it. By testing our hypotheses, we will assess whether the effect of education on (1) trust in scientific methods, (2) trust in scientific institutions, and (3) the gap between them, can be understood by means of reflexive-modernization theory or theorizing on anomie. Hence, we aim to uncover whether the relationship between level of education on the one hand and the dependent variable on the other can be explained by including mediating variables that measure the central concepts of the two explanations under scrutiny, as indicated by Fig. 1. However, before doing this, we will first examine various assumptions of reflexive-modernization theory and the anomie-based explanation by assessing the bivariate correlations between level of education on the one hand and the mediating and dependent variables on the other. Table 2 presents these zero-order correlations. First, education is correlated to each of the mediating variables, as expected based on the literature discussed above: the more educated tend to have more institutional knowledge, embrace more reflexive-modern values, and are less anomic than their less-educated counterparts. Second,

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

217

Table 2 Zero-order correlations between level of education and mediating and dependent variables Mediating and dependent variables Trust in scientific methods Trust in scientific institutions Science confidence gap Institutional knowledge Reflexive-modern values Anomie

r

N

0.00 0.26*** −0.17*** 0.42*** 0.25*** −0.32***

1970 1941 1921 1984 1973 1923

Data source Van der Waal, Achterberg and De Koster (2014) ***p < 0.001, **p < 0.01, *p < 0.05

there is no relationship at all between level of education and trust in scientific methods, while the more educated show more trust in scientific institutions and a smaller science confidence gap than the less educated. However, these bivariate correlations are not enough to determine whether reflexive-modernization theory or theorizing on anomie can explain educational differences in the science confidence gap under scrutiny. Both theories may be valid: a bivariate correlation between education and the science confidence gap might in fact be a net result of a cross-pressure (see Lazarsfeld, Berelson and Gaudet 1972 [1944]) between a positive relationship (predicted by reflexive-modernization theory) and a negative relationship (predicted by the anomie explanation). In order to assess which of the theorized mechanisms are actually at play (and in order to take control variables into account), we will provide two more series of analyses. First, we will include the three mediating variables (institutional knowledge, reflexive-modern values, and anomie) next to education and the control variables, and we assess how these mediating variables relate to the dependent variables (trust in scientific methods, trust in scientific institutions, and the science confidence gap)—see Table 3 (discussed below). Second, we will conduct a decomposition analysis that disentangles the original effect of education. More specifically, it indicates the contribution of each mediating variable to the relationship between education and the dependent variable. In other words, it shows to what extent education indirectly influences the dependent variable, through each mediating variable. As such, the decomposition analysis indicates whether and to what extent each hypothesized mechanism is responsible for a science confidence gap between the less and the more educated (see Table 4, following the discussion of Table 3).

218

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

Table 3 Explaining the relationship between education and trust in scientific methods, trust in scientific institutions, and a science confidence gap (OLS regression analyses, unstandardized coefficients shown, robust standard errors in parentheses) Independent variables

Trust in scientific methods Model 1

Trust in scientific institutions

Model 2

−0.03 (0.04) –

−0.08 (0.05) 1.46***

Reflexive modern values

–

(0.32) 0.13**

Anomie

–

Education Institutional knowledge

Household income Gender (female) Age Race/ethnicity NonHispanic white (ref.) NonHispanic black NonHispanic multiracial

0.03

(0.04) 0.20*** (0.04) 0.02

Model 3 0.21*** (0.03) –

–

– 0.06***

Science confidence gap

Model 4 −0.01 (0.03) 1.57*** (0.22) 0.39***

(0.03) −0.21*** (0.03) 0.01

Model 5

Model 6

−0.24*** (0.05) –

–

– −0.03

−0.07 (0.05) −0.09 (0.37) −0.26*** (0.05) 0.41*** (0.05) 0.02

(0.02) −0.06

(0.02) 0.00

(0.02) −0.07

(0.01) −0.09

(0.02) 0.02

(0.02) 0.11

(0.15) 0.01 (0.00)

(0.15) 0.01 (0.00)

(0.12) 0.00 (0.00)

(0.10) -0.00 (0.00)

(0.18) 0.00 (0.01)

(0.17) 0.01 (0.01)

–

–

–

–

–

–

0.45

0.32

−0.23

0.21

0.62

0.05

(0.30) 0.85*

(0.30) 0.69

(0.21) −0.43

(0.19) −0.43

(0.37) 1.26*

(0.34) 1.11

(0.41)

(0.37)

(0.44)

(0.42)

(0.64)

(0.58)

(continued)

9

Table 3

219

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

(continued)

Independent variables

Trust in scientific methods Model 1

NonHispanic other Hispanic Religious denomination No religious denomination (ref.) Protestant Catholic Other religious denomination Attendance at religious services No attendance at religious services (ref.) Occasional attendance at religious services

Trust in scientific institutions

Model 2

0.66

0.60

(0.35) 0.44 (0.24)

(0.35) 0.45 (0.23)

Model 3 −0.07 (0.28) −0.59** (0.22)

Science confidence gap

Model 4

Model 5

Model 6

0.30

0.73

0.31

(0.22) −0.23 (0.20)

(0.39) 1.03** (0.33)

(0.35) 0.65* (0.30)

–

–

–

–

–

–

−0.27 (0.22) −0.54* (0.23) −0.32

−0.24 (0.22) −0.57* (0.23) −0.15

−0.31 (0.17) 0.06 (0.18) −0.42*

−0.21 (0.15) 0.04 (0.15) −0.25

0.08 (0.28) −0.62* (0.29) 0.06

−0.01 (0.26) −0.64* (0.26) 0.04

(0.23)

(0.23)

(0.20)

(0.17)

(0.31)

(0.28)

–

–

–

−0.14

−0.09

−0.05

(0.20)

(0.20)

(0.17)

–

0.12

(0.15)

–

–

−0.09

−0.22

(0.26)

(0.25)

(continued)

Models 1, 3, and 5 in Table 3 demonstrate that the bivariate associations reported in Table 2 are robust: the relationships between level of education and (1) trust in scientific methods (no relationship), (2) trust in scientific institutions (a substantial, positive relationship), and (3) the

220

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

Table 3

(continued)

Independent variables

Trust in scientific methods Model 1

Frequent attendance at religious services Constant N R2

−0.43

Model 2 −0.09

Trust in scientific institutions Model 3

Model 4

−0.70***

0.13

Science confidence gap Model 5 0.28

Model 6 −0.22

(0.23) (0.25) (0.18) (0.17) (0.29) (0.31) 3.50*** 3.92*** 4.26*** 1.65** −0.66 5.53*** (0.52) (0.64) (0.39) (0.44) (0.63) (0.78) 1834 1834 1812 1812 1798 1798 0.02 0.06 0.13 0.35 0.06 0.16

Data source Van der Waal, Achterberg and De Koster (2014) *** p < 0.001, ** p < 0.01, * p < 0.05

Table 4 Decomposition of the initial effect of education into direct effect and indirect effects via institutional knowledge, reflexive-modern values, and anomie (KHB-method; unstandardized coefficients shown; robust standard errors in parentheses)a Effecs of education

Trust in scientific methods

Trust in scientific institutions

Science confidence gap

Initial effect education Final direct effect education Indirect effect education …via institutional knowledge …via reflexive modern values …via anomie

−0.03 (0.04) −0.08 (0.05)

0.21*** (0.03) −0.01 (0.03)

−0.24*** (0.05) −0.07 (0.05)

0.07*** (0.02) 0.03** (0.01) −0.05*** (0.01)

0.07*** (0.01) 0.10*** (0.01) 0.05*** (0.01)

−0.00 (0.02) −0.07*** (0.02) −0.10*** (0.02)

Data source Van der Waal, Achterberg and De Koster (2014) *** p < 0.001, ** p < 0.01, * p < 0.05 a Controlled for concomitants household income, gender, age, non-Hispanic black, non-Hispanic multiracial, non-Hispanic other, Hispanic, Protestant, Catholic, other religious denomination, occasional attendance at religious services, and frequent attendance at religious services

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

221

science confidence gap (a substantial, negative relationship) are also found while including various control variables. At first sight, the absence of a significant relationship in Model 1 seems to be at odds with our hypotheses, which suggest that there are major differences in trust in scientific methods between education groups. After all, reflexive-modernization theory predicts that the more educated have more trust in scientific methods (because of their institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values), while the anomie explanation suggests that the less educated have more trust in scientific methods (because of their anomie). However, since these expectations oppose one another, the absence of a direct relationship between level of education and trust in scientific methods may indicate the presence of a cross-pressure effect. In other words, it may be the net result of opposing negative and positive mechanisms that cancel each other out. This emphasizes that it is important to directly model the hypothesized mechanisms by including mediating variables. Models 2, 4, and 6 in Table 3 include the effects of the three mediating variables for explaining trust in scientific methods, trust in scientific institutions, and the science confidence gap, respectively. In line with the expectations derived from reflexive-modernization theory, Model 2 shows that those with more institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values are more inclined to trust scientific methods. However, contrary to what reflexive-modernization theory predicts, Model 4 indicates that these people have more, instead of less, trust in scientific institutions. This means that institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values cannot explain the science confidence gap. Those with ample institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values have both more trust in scientific methods and more trust in scientific institutions. Hence, contrary to what reflexive-modernization theory anticipates, high levels of institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values cannot underlie the science confidence gap. Model 6 corroborates this: institutional knowledge is not related to the science confidence gap, and reflexive-modern values have a negative effect, instead of the expected positive one. We will now focus on the role of anomie. Model 2 in Table 3 shows that anomic people have more trust in scientific methods, which is in line with our expectations. Model 4 indicates that they also report less trust in scientific institutions, which was also anticipated. Following these two findings, which are perfectly in line with theorizing on the role of anomie for the science confidence gap scrutinized here, it is not surprising that

222

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

Model 6 shows that this confidence gap is larger among those who display higher levels of anomie, as predicted by the anomie explanation. The findings above suggest that there is more evidence for the hypotheses deduced from the anomie explanation (hypotheses 4–6) than for those inferred from reflexive-modernization theory (hypotheses 1–3). However, a proper test of our hypotheses requires a decomposition of the initial impact of education on the three dependent variables into direct and indirect effects through the three mediating variables (institutional knowledge, reflexive-modern values, and anomie). Table 4 reports the results of a decomposition analysis using the KHB method (Breen, Karlson and Holm 2013). This technique allows us to investigate via which mediating variables the effect of education on the three dependent variables actually runs. The first row of Table 4 indicates the initial effect of education (i.e., the effect of education in a model including control variables, but without mediating variables; identical to models 1, 3, and 5 in Table 3). The second row indicates the final direct effect of education (i.e., the effect of education in a model including both control variables and mediating variables; identical to models 2, 4, and 6 in Table 3). Finally, the coefficients under the header ‘indirect effect education’ provide in-depth insight into the indirect part of the effect of education (i.e., the initial effect minus the final direct effect): the extent to which education influences the dependent variable via each mediating variable. The first column in Table 4 indicates that there is indeed a crosspressure in the impact of education on trust in scientific methods. On the one hand, education is positively related to trust in scientific methods via institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values. On the other, education is negatively associated with trust in scientific methods via anomie. This explains why there was no significant initial effect of education. On the one hand, the more educated have more trust in scientific methods than their less-educated counterparts because they have more institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values. On the other hand, the more educated simultaneously have less trust in scientific methods because they are less anomic. The initial effect of education is not significant, yet the underlying paths are and these cancel each other out. If one only analyzes the effect of education on trust in scientific methods without taking the three theorized mechanisms into account, this underlying cross-pressure is obscured from view and a non-significant net effect remains. These results imply that hypotheses 1a and 1b, which predict

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

223

that the more educated have more trust in scientific methods because of their institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values, are tenable. In addition, Hypothesis 4, which predicts that the less educated have more trust in scientific methods because of their higher level of anomie, is also sound. The second column in Table 4 indicates that the initial substantial positive effect of education on trust in scientific institutions is fully explained by the three mechanisms (as no significant final direct effect of education remains). The more educated report more trust in scientific institutions than the less educated, because they have more institutional knowledge and reflexive-modern values, and because they are less anomic. This contradicts hypotheses 2a and 2b, which have to be rejected. In contrast, Hypothesis 5 is corroborated: the less educated have less trust in scientific institutions due to their higher levels of anomie. The third column in Table 4 indicates why the science confidence gap under scrutiny is smaller among the more educated. Two factors are relevant: the reflexive-modern values of the more educated, and the anomie of the less educated. Reflexive-modern values explain some of the educational differences with respect to the science confidence gap, but in the opposite direction than anticipated on the basis of reflexivemodernization theory: among those with more reflexive-modern values, the science confidence gap is smaller instead of larger. This unexpected finding can be attributed to the fact that reflexive-modern individuals tend to trust scientific institutions even more than they have trust in scientific methods. Overall, the third column in Table 4 indicates that hypotheses 3a, 3b, and 3c (all deduced from reflexive-modernization theory) have to be rejected. In contrast, it is in line with hypotheses 6a and 6b: the science confidence gap is larger among the less educated, because they are more anomic. The higher levels of anomie that are characteristic of the less educated explain why they tend to combine trust in scientific methods with distrust in scientific institutions. The fact that the initial impact of education is no longer significant (see final direct effect of education) when the indirect effects of education via reflexive-modern values and anomie are taken into account suggests that these mechanisms fully explain the finding that the science confidence gap is larger among the less educated. Below, we discuss the broader relevance of these outcomes.

224

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

5

Conclusions and Discussion

In this chapter, we have focused on the gap between trust in scientific principles and methods on the one hand, and trust in scientific institutions on the other. We found that the authority of science can be broken down in two dimensions. Whether or not citizens trust scientific principles and methods has little predictive power for their ideas about scientific institutions and scientific experts. Moreover, we found that especially among the less educated there is a strong tendency to favor the methods over the institutions and the institutional experts. In other words, the less educated strongly support scientific principles and methods, yet they think that scientific institutions and experts cannot be trusted to act in accordance with these. Theorizing on the role of anomie predicted that the science confidence gap would be the largest among the less educated, because their high levels of anomie underlie both trust in scientific methods and distrust of scientific institutions. This theory was empirically corroborated. These findings underline that anomie is not simply a socially devastating force. It is commonly held that this ‘malady of modernity’ (Zijderveld 2000) leads to ‘a stupendous array of negative consequences,’ ranging from violence to drug use and from crime to distrust of institutions (Elchardus and De Keere 2013, 101). Yet, our findings support Berger, Berger and Kellner’s (1973) all too often neglected argument that those suffering from anomie may actively try to restore a meaningful institutional order and display strong trust in institutional principles. This suggests that public debates on the legitimacy of scientific institutions may be less bleak if one takes people’s trust in scientific methods into account. In addition, acknowledging this anomie-induced science confidence gap may enable us to understand why some people embrace alternative epistemologies that focus on their personal experiences (Unger, Draper and Pendergress 1986), and why people actively engage in alternative and democratic forms of knowledge production (Nowotny, Scott and Gibbons 2013; Stilgoe, Lock and Wilsdon 2014; Makarovs and Achterberg 2018). The findings in this chapter are based on data stemming from 2014, which raises the question of whether they are still valid today. A first thing that comes to mind is Donald Trump’s rise to the presidency in 2016 and the increased polarization over science this has brought (see the discussion of the March for Science in Chapter 1). A second consideration is a recent scholarship that demonstrates a growing divide along ideological lines in

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

225

trust in scientific institutions and research findings (e.g., Drummond and Fischoff 2017) and in news coverage of science (Hart, Chinn and Soroka 2020). Taking these recent developments into account, we consider it unlikely that we would get different findings than the ones reported here if we repeated this study today. In fact, a recent study by Motta (2018) suggests the persistence, or even further growth, of the science confidence gap. For while polarization between liberals’ and conservatives’ views on scientists increased after the abovementioned March for Science, their trust in scientific research did not become more polarized. Whether this means that the science confidence gap has also increased among less-educated citizens might be taken up in future studies. If such is indeed the case, our anomie-based explanation might even be more salient for understanding today’s polarization over science and scientific institutions than it was seven years ago.

Notes 1. This is modest, but comparable to the most recent waves of widely used large-scale survey programs like ANES (2014, 31) and ISSP (2014, Appendix A). 2. An unrotated analysis yields a comparable two-factor structure.

References Achterberg, Peter. 2006. Considering Cultural Conflict: Class Politics and Cultural Politics in Western Societies. Maastricht: Shaker Publishers. Achterberg, Peter. 2015. “Een eenzame visserman op zoek naar geluk: Over het publieke aanzien van de wetenschap.” [A Lonesome Fisherman Looking for Happiness: On the Public Prestige of Science]. Sociologie 11 (1): 51–78. Achterberg, Peter, and Dick Houtman. 2009. “Ideologically ‘Illogical’? Why Do the Lower-Educated Dutch Display So Little Value Coherence?” Social Forces 87 (3): 1649–670. Achterberg, Peter, Dick Houtman, and Anton Derks. 2011. “Two of a Kind? An Empirical Investigation of Anti-Welfarism and Economic Egalitarianism.” Public Opinion Quarterly 75 (4): 748–60. Achterberg, Peter, Judith Raven, and Romke van der Veen. 2013. “Individualization, a Double-Edged Sword: Welfare, the Experience of Social Risks, and the Need for Social Insurance in the Netherlands.” Current Sociology 61 (7): 949–65.

226

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

Ackerman, Phillip L. 2000. “Domain-Specific Knowledge as the ‘Dark Matter’ of Adult Intelligence: Gf/Gc, Personality and Interest Correlates.” Journal of Gerontology 55 (2): 69–84. Allum, Nick, Patrick Sturgis, Dimitra Tabourazi, and Ian Brunton-Smith. 2008. “Science Knowledge and Attitudes across Cultures: A Meta-Analysis.” Public Understanding of Science 17 (1): 35–54. ANES. 2014. User’s Guide and Codebook for the ANES 2012 Time Series Study. Ann Arbor, Palo Alto: University of Michigan and Stanford University. Aupers, Stef. 2012. “‘Trust No One’: Modernization, Paranoia and Conspiracy Culture.” European Journal of Communication 27 (1): 22–34. Bauer, Martin W., Nick Allum, and Steve Miller. 2007. “What Can We Learn from 25 years of PUS Survey Research? Liberating and Expanding the Agenda.” Public Understanding of Science 16 (1): 79–95. Beck, Ulrich. 1992. “From Industrial Society to the Risk Society: Questions of Survival, Social Structure and Ecological Enlightenment.” Theory, Culture and Society 9 (1): 97–123. Beck, Ulrich, Anthony Giddens, and Scott Lash. 1994. Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Beier, Margaret E., and Phillip L. Ackerman. 2003. “Determinants of Health Knowledge: An Investigation of Age, Gender, Abilities, Personality, and Interests.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 84 (2): 439–48. Berger, Peter L., Brigitte Berger, and Hansfried Kellner. 1973. The Homeless Mind: Modernization and Consciousness. New York: Vintage Books. Breen, Richard, Kristian Bernt Karlson, and Anders Holm. 2013. “Total, Direct, and Indirect Effects in Logit and Probit Models.” Sociological Methods & Research 42 (2): 164–91. Carmines, Edward G., and James Woods. 2004. “The Role of Party Activists in the Evolution of the Abortion Issue.” Political Behavior 23 (4): 361–77. Clevers, Hans. 2013. “Voorwoord.” [Preface]. In: Vertrouwen in wetenschap [Trust in Science], 4–5. Amsterdam: Koninklijke Nederlandse Academie van Wetenschappen. De Keere, Kobe. 2010. “Wantrouwen in wetenschap: Een kwestie van reflexiviteit of maatschappelijk onbehagen?” [Distrust of Science: A Matter of Reflexivity or Social Discontents?]. Sociologie 6 (1): 26–45. De Koster, Willem, Peter Achterberg, Dick Houtman, and Jeroen van der Waal. 2010. “Van God los: Post-Christelijk cultureel Conflict in Nederland.” [Godforsaken: Post-Christian Cultural Conflict in the Netherlands]. Sociologie 6 (3): 27–49. Delli Carpini, Michael X., and Scott Keeter. 1996. What Americans Know about Politics and Why It Matters. New Haven: Yale University Press.

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

227

Drummond, Caitlin, and Baruch Fischhoff. 2017. “Individuals with Greater Science Literacy and Education Have More Polarized Beliefs on Controversial Science Topics.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 114 (36): 9587–592. Durant, John R., Geoffrey A. Evans, and Geoffrey P. Thomas. 1989. “The Public Understanding of Science.” Nature 340: 11–14. Ekberg, Merryn. 2007. “The Parameters of the Risk Society: A Review and Exploration.” Current Sociology 55 (3): 343–66. Elchardus, Mark, and Kobe de Keere. 2013. “Social Control and Institutional Trust: Reconsidering the Effect of Modernity on Social Malaise.” The Social Science Journal 50 (1): 101–11. Feldman, Kenneth A., and Theodore M. Newcomb. 1994. The Impact of College on Students. New Brunswick: Transaction. Gabennesch, Howard. 1972. Authoritarianism as World View. American Journal of Sociology 77 (5): 857–75. Gauchat, Gordon. 2011. “The Cultural Authority of Science: Public Trust and Acceptance of Organized Science.” Public Understanding of Science 20 (6): 751–70. Giddens, Anthony. 1994. “Living in a Post-Traditional Society.” In Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, edited by Ulrich Beck, Anthony Giddens, and Scott Lash, 56–109. Cambridge: Polity Press. Haerlin, Benny, and Doug Parr. 1999. “How to Restore Public Trust in Science.” Nature 400 (6744): 499. Hart, P. Sol, Sedona Chinn, and Stuart Soroka. 2020. “Politicization and Polarization in COVID-19 News Coverage.” Science Communication 42 (5): 679–97. House of Lords. 2000. Science and Technology—Third Report. Accessed September 26, 2014. http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/ld199900/ ldselect/ldsctech/38/3801.htm. Houtman, Dick, Peter Achterberg, and Anton Derks. 2008. Farewell to the Leftist Working Class. New Brunswick: Transaction. Houtman, Dick, and Stef Aupers. 2007. “The Spiritual Turn and the Decline of Tradition: The Spread of Post-Christian Spirituality in 14 Western Countries, 1981–2000.” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 46 (3): 305–20. Hunter, James Davison. 1992. Culture Wars: The Struggle to Control the Family, Art, Education, Law, and Politics in America. New York: Basic Books. Inglehart, Ronald. 1977. The Silent Revolution: Changing Values and Political Styles among Western Publics. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Inglehart, Ronald, and Christian Welzel. 2005. Modernization, Cultural Change, and Democracy: The Human Development Sequence. New York: Cambridge University Press.

228

P. ACHTERBERG ET AL.

ISSP. 2014. ISSP 2012: Family and Changing Gender Roles IV Variable Report. Köln: GESIS. King, Brendon, and Michael Short. 2017. “Science: How the Status Quo Harms Its Cultural Authority.” BioEssays 39 (12): 1700154. Knuckey, Jonathan. 2005. “New Front in the Culture War? Moral Traditionalism and Voting Behavior in U.S. House Elections.” American Politics Research 33 (5): 645–71. Lahsen, Myanna. 2008. “Experiences of Modernity in the Greenhouse: A Cultural Analysis of a Physicist ‘Trio’ Supporting the Backlash against Global Warming.” Global Environmental Change 18 (1): 204–19. Lazarsfeld, Paul F., Bernard Berelson, and Hazel Gaudet. 1972 [1944]. The People’s Choice: How the Voter Makes up His Mind in a Presidential Campaign. New York: Columbia University Press. Lipset, Seymour Martin, and William Schneider. 1983. The Confidence Gap: Business, Labor, and Government in the Public Mind. New York: Free Press. Locke, Simon. 1999. “Golem Science and the Public Understanding of Science: From Deficit to Dilemma.” Public Understanding of Science 8 (2): 75–92. Lutterman, Kenneth G., and Russell Middleton. 1970. “Authoritarianism, Anomia, and Prejudice.” Social Forces 48 (3): 485–92. Makarovs, Kirils, and Peter Achterberg. 2018. “Science to the People: A 32Nation Survey.” Public Understanding of Science 27 (7): 876–96. Miller, Jon D. 2004. “Public Understanding of, and Attitudes toward, Scientific Research: What We Know and What We Need to Know.” Public Understanding of Science 13 (3): 273–94. Millstone, Erik, and Patrick van Zwanenberg. 2000. “A Crisis of Trust: For Science, Scientists or for Institutions?” Nature Medicine 6 (12): 1307–308. Misztal, Barbara. 2013. Trust in Modern Societies: The Search for the Bases of Social Order. Malden: Wiley. Motta, Matthew. 2018. “The Polarizing Effect of the March for Science on Attitudes toward Scientists.” PS: Political Science & Politics 51 (4): 782–88. Moulton, Benjamin E., Terrence D. Hill, and Amy Burdette. 2006. “Religion and Trends in Euthanasia Attitudes among U.S. Adults, 1977–2004.” Sociological Forum 21 (2): 249–72. Nisbet, Matthew C., and Ezra M. Markowitz. 2014. “Understanding Public Opinion in Debates over Biomedical Research: Looking beyond Political Partisanship to Focus on Beliefs about Science and Society.” PLoS ONE 9 (2): e88473. Norris, Pippa. 2011. Democratic Deficit: Critical Citizens Revisited. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Nowotny, Helga, Peter B. Scott, and Michael T. Gibbons. 2013. Re-Thinking Science: Knowledge and the Public in an Age of Uncertainty. Malden: Wiley.

9

A SCIENCE CONFIDENCE GAP: EDUCATION, TRUST …

229

Prior, Markus, and Arthur Lupia. 2008. “Money, Time, and Political Knowledge: Distinguishing Quick Recall and Political Learning Skills.” American Journal of Political Science 52 (1): 169–83. Roberts, Alan H., and Milton Rokeach. 1956. “Anomie, Authoritarianism, and Prejudice: A Replication.” American Journal of Sociology 61 (3): 355–58. Scott, Jacqueline. 1998. “Changing Attitudes to Sexual Morality: A CrossNational Comparison.” Sociology 32 (4): 815–45. Srole, Leo. 1956. “Social Integration and Certain Corollaries: An Exploratory Study.” American Sociological Review 21 (6): 709–16. Stilgoe, Jack, Simon J. Lock, and James Wilsdon. 2014. “Why Should We Promote Public Engagement with Science?” Public Understanding of Science 23 (1): 4–15. Stubager, Rune. 2010. “The Development of the Education Cleavage: Denmark as a Critical Case.” West European Politics 33 (3): 505–33. Ten Kate, Josje, Willem de Koster, and Jeroen van der Waal. 2021. “‘Following Your Gut’ or ‘Questioning the Scientific Evidence’: Understanding Vaccine Skepticism among More-Educated Dutch Parents.” Journal of Health and Social Behavior. https://doi.org/10.1177/0022146520986118. Unger, Rhoda K., Richard D. Draper, and Michael L. Pendergrass. 1986. “Personal Epistemology and Personal Experience.” Journal of Social Issues 42 (2): 67–79. Van der Waal, Jeroen, Peter Achterberg, Dick Houtman, Willem de Koster, and Katerina Manevska. 2010. “‘Some are More Equal Than Others’: Economic Egalitarianism and Welfare Chauvinism in the Netherlands.” Journal of European Social Policy 20 (4): 350–63. Van der Waal, Jeroen, Peter Achterberg, and Willem de Koster. 2014. Residential Preferences, Institutional Trust, and Fear of Crime in the United States. Washington/Palo Alto: GfK Custom Research. Zijderveld, Anton C. 2000. The Institutional Imperative: The Interface of Institutions and Networks. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Ziman, John. 1991. “Public Understanding of Science.” Science, Technology and Human Values 16 (1): 99–105.

Index

A Aaronovitch, David, 184 Academization (of the arts), 20, 91–94, 98, 102, 105 Achterberg, Peter, 22, 25, 28, 55, 134, 135, 207–210, 212, 214–217, 220, 224 Ackerman, Phillip L., 212 Actor-Network-Theory (ANT), 15, 28 Adorno, Theodor W., 10, 11, 193, 197 AIDS, 3, 77, 156. See also HIV/AIDS Akrich, Madeleine, 156 Alexander, Jeffrey C., 14, 24, 28, 51, 52, 54, 58 Algorithms, 78–83 Allum, Nick, 135, 206 Alternative media, 69, 70 Antarctica, 2, 140, 149, 150 Anti-institutionalism, 157, 164, 168, 169, 172 Anti-vaccination movement, 68. See also Vaccination; Vaccine Arlander, Annette, 93

Aronowitz, Stanley, 12 Artistic knowledge, 19, 91, 93, 96–99, 102–104 Artistic research, 92, 93, 96–106 Asprem, Egil, 57, 58, 67 Aupers, Stef, 19, 23–25, 49, 52, 58, 72, 77, 120, 125, 187, 204, 207 Austen, Kat, 169 Authority, 3–7, 13–20, 23, 24, 26, 27, 37, 38, 45, 57, 58, 66, 67, 70, 72, 73, 78, 79, 81, 82, 90–93, 96–98, 100, 102–105, 117, 118, 134, 146, 147, 163, 181, 184, 185, 187, 194, 196, 198, 204, 207, 213, 224 Autism, 77, 147 B Badura, Jens, 96 Baetens, Jan, 98 Baker, Aryn, 147 Barberá, Pablo, 75, 77 Barkun, Michael, 67, 68, 70, 81, 180, 182–184

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 D. Houtman et al. (eds.), Science under Siege, Cultural Sociology, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-69649-8

231

232

INDEX

Barlow, John Perry, 69 Barnes, Barry, 14, 15 Barthe, Yannick, 156 Baudrillard, Jean, 11, 52, 193 Bauer, Martin W., 206 Baumann, Martin, 125 Bauman, Zygmunt, 12, 26, 47, 81 Bearman, Peter, 56 Becker, Howard S., 46, 47, 50, 83 Beck, Ulrich, 206, 207 Beier, Margaret E., 212 Bendix, Reinhard, 38 Benner, Steven A., 157 Bennett, Gaymon, 162 Bensaude-Vincent, Bernadette, 169 Berelson, Bernard, 217 Berger, Brigitte, 209, 224 Berger, Peter L., 17, 40, 47, 65, 117, 192, 209, 224 Bertram, Ursula, 95, 101 Besecke, Kelly, 24 Best, Joel, 50, 51 Bethencourt, Ryan, 165, 166 Bezimeni, Uchen, 56 Bible Belt (the Netherlands), 124 Biesecker, Barbara A., 180 Big Bio, 166, 167, 170, 171 Biggs, Michael, 92, 94, 95, 105 Bioart, 157, 168 Biohacking, 25, 156, 158, 173. See also Biopunk; Do-It-Yourself biology Biopunk, 167, 173. See also Biohacking; Do-It-Yourself biology Biosafety, 162 Biosecurity, 162. See also Biosafety Bioterrorism, 168. See also Biosafety Birchall, Clare, 67, 184, 185, 197 Blanco, Cristina, 100 Bloor, David, 4, 14 Blumer, Herbert, 50

Bobe, Jason, 156, 159, 165 Böhme, Gernot, 96 Boltanski, Luc, 172, 180 Borgdorff, Henk, 92, 94, 97, 99–105 Boundaries of science, 66, 117, 185 Boundary work, 27, 66, 68, 76, 105, 185, 187, 196–198 Bourdieu, Pierre, 55, 197 Braman, Donald, 135, 136, 141 Brandt, Mark J., 180 Bratich, Jack Z., 181, 184 Breen, Richard, 222 Brekhus, Wayne H., 133 Brown, Callum G., 26 Bruce, Steve, 16, 26, 117 Brulle, Robert J., 3 Bruns, Axel, 71, 179 Brunton-Smith, Ian, 206 Brynjolfsson, Erik, 77 Büchler, Daniela, 92, 94, 95, 105 Buddhism, 20, 116 Burdette, Amy, 213 Burningham, Kate, 54 Butler, Judith, 52 Byford, Jovan, 196

C Callén, Blanca, 162 Callon, Michel, 13, 15, 27, 156 Calvert, Jane, 169 Campbell, Colin, 11, 18, 23, 24, 54, 67, 68, 81, 125, 186 Candy, Linda, 104 Canovan, Margaret, 13, 24 Carlson, Rob, 159, 160 Carmines, Edward G., 213 Casanova, José, 16 Castells, Manuel, 78 Catholicism, 40 Center for Cultural Sociology (CCS), 51

INDEX

Charisius, Hanno, 160 Charmaz, Kathy, 186 Chaves, Mark, 26 Cheney-Lippold, John, 79 Chiapello, Eve, 172 Chinn, Sedona, 225 Chong, Dennis, 135 Citizen economics, 156. See also Citizen science Citizen science, 28, 167. See also Citizen economics Classicism, 7, 46 Class voting, 55 Clevers, Hans, 204 Climate change, 2, 22, 23, 136–138, 140, 141, 143–147, 155, 180, 198. See also Environmental risk; Global warming Coady, David, 182 Cobussen, Marcel, 100, 102 Coessens, Kathleen, 103 Cognitive dissonance, 22. See also Confirmation bias; Motivated reasoning Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 6 Cole, Stephen, 48–50 Collins, Harry M., 89, 193, 197 Collins, Randall, 21, 90 Communication science, 133, 135 Complementary and Alternative Medicine (CAM), 66, 198 Comte, Auguste, 5, 38, 40 Condorcet, 5 Confirmation bias, 22, 75, 133, 183. See also Cognitive dissonance; Motivated reasoning Confucianism, 20 Conservative Protestantism, 22, 116, 119, 120, 123, 124, 127–129 Conspiracy culture, 179, 197, 204. See also Conspiracy theory

233

Conspiracy theory, 52, 76, 77, 155, 179–186, 196, 197, 198. See also Conspiracy culture Constructionism, 51. See also Constructivism Constructivism, 54, 192. See also Constructionism Cook, John, 180 Cooper, Geoff, 54 Copernicus, Nicolaus, 5 Corbett, Julia B., 134, 136–140, 144, 147, 148, 150 Cortois, Liza, 22, 120, 125, 146 Counterculture, 68, 74, 207. See also Cultic milieu; ‘The System’ COVID-19, 3, 8, 72, 77 Crisis of sociology, 38, 45 Crispin, Darla, 103 CRISPR, 159, 174 Critical Art Ensemble (CAE), 168 Cultic milieu, 68, 69, 70, 186. See also Counterculture Cultural appropriation, 73, 82, 118 Cultural capital, 52, 55 Cultural pessimism, 122, 124 Cultural pluralization, 17, 65. See also Secularization Cultural sociology, 14, 15, 28, 54, 55, 133, 135 Cultural turn (in sociology), 38, 51, 53, 54 Curry, Helen, 173 D D’Ancona, Matthew D., 180 Davie, Grace, 23 Davis, Evan, 180 Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace, 69 De Haan, Jos, 121 DeHaven-Smith, Lance, 182, 184 De Jonge, Jos, 135, 141

234

INDEX

De Keere, Kobe, 206, 207, 209, 224 De Koster, Willem, 25, 49, 135, 205, 206, 210, 214, 216, 217, 220 De la Fuente, Eduardo, 50 Deleuze, Gilles, 11 Delfanti, Alessandro, 163, 166, 170, 172 Delgado, Ana, 162 Delli Carpini, Michael X., 212 De Meere, Freek, 135 Democratization, 73, 83, 162, 164, 172 Dentith, Matthew R.X., 182 Dericquebourg, Regis, 116 Derks, Anton, 55, 207, 209 Derrida, Jacques, 11, 103 De Wildt, Lars, 19 Dickson, David, 134 Digital platform, 78, 79 Dijksterhuis, E.J., 5 DiMaggio, Paul, 135 Disenchantment, 18, 38–41, 56–58, 67 Division of Labor in Society, The (Durkheim), 21 Dobbelaere, Karel, 16, 17 Dogmatism, 188–190 Do-It-Yourself biology, 25, 156. See also Biohacking; Biopunk Dombois, Florian, 96, 97 Double hermeneutic, 197 Douglas, Anne, 103 Douglas, Karen M., 180 Douglas, Mary, 22, 135 Draper, Richard D., 224 Druckman, James N., 135 Drummond, Caitlin, 225 Dubay, Eric, 76, 80, 81 Duncombe, Stephen, 11 Durant, John R., 204 Durfee, Jessica L., 134, 136–140, 144, 147, 148, 150

Durkheim, Emile, 4, 20–22, 24, 28, 54, 59, 133, 197 Dyson, Freeman, 166, 170

E Echo chamber, 75, 77, 78, 82 E-cigarette, 147 Ecker, Ullrich K.H., 180 Edinburgh School, 14, 15. See also Sociology of Scientific Knowledge (SSK) Edmonds, Ernest, 104 Eerle, Joe, 156 Egalitarian communitarianism, 137, 139–142, 145, 146 Ekberg, Merryn, 207 Elchardus, Mark, 224 Elective affinity, 20, 22, 119, 127, 129. See also Wahlverwandtschaft Elementary Forms of Religious Life, The (Durkheim), 21, 54 Elkington, Joshua, 169 Elkins, James, 92, 94, 98, 100, 106 Ellison, Christopher G., 118, 120 Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 6 Empirical generalization (Merton), 56 Endy, Drew, 157, 158 Enlightenment, 5, 6, 12, 15, 23, 39, 40, 49, 66, 67, 188 Environmental risk, 136. See also Climate change; Global warming Epistemic authority, 11, 38, 48, 53, 91, 94, 104, 181, 185, 196. See also Truth Epistemology, 57, 97, 99 Epstein, Steven, 156 Esotericism, 57, 58, 67 Evans, Geoffrey A., 204 Evans, John H., 26, 118 Evans, Michael S., 26 Evans, Robert, 89

INDEX

Evidence, 4, 8, 13, 22, 23, 48, 51, 72, 81, 123, 128, 129, 138, 143, 156, 183, 184, 188, 222. See also Fact Evolution theory, 147

F Facebook, 70, 71, 74, 78–80, 82, 83, 139, 186 Fact, 2, 4, 7–11, 15, 18, 23, 24, 26, 38, 39, 43–46, 51, 53, 55, 59, 65, 66, 72, 75, 76, 79, 81, 83, 104, 105, 117, 118, 122, 125, 133, 135, 150, 156, 158–160, 163, 164, 166, 168, 169, 180, 182–185, 191, 192, 196, 207, 217, 223, 225. See also Evidence Falzon, Mark-Anthony, 186 Fassin, Didier, 181, 196 Fauci, Anthony, 3 Feldman, Kenneth A., 207 Fenster, Mark, 182, 184 Festinger, Leon, 22 Filter bubble, 79 Finke, Roger, 17 Fischhoff, Baruch, 225 Fisher, Dana R., 3 Fiske, John, 185 Flat earth, 67–69, 72, 75, 76, 79–82, 147 Foucault, Michel, 11, 12, 81, 181, 187 Fox, Maggie, 147 Frankfurt School, 10, 11 Frayling, Christopher, 98 Freud, Sigmund, 5, 10 Friebe, Richard, 160 Friedrichs, Robert W., 48 Fromm, Erich, 10 Furseth, Inger, 16, 28

235

G Gabennesch, Howard, 207 Galileo, 5 Gates, Bill, 170 Gauchat, Gordon, 3, 26, 208 Gaudet, Hazel, 217 Gellner, Ernest, 10, 15, 18 Gibbons, Michael T., 106, 162, 224 Giddens, Anthony, 66, 190, 197, 206, 207 Gieryn, Thomas F., 27, 66, 68, 76, 181, 184, 185, 196, 197 Gignac, Gilles E., 180 Glaser, Barney G., 186 Global warming, 22, 136–138, 140, 144, 149, 150, 191, 192. See also Climate change; Environmental risk Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 129 Goldberg, Robert Alan, 182 Goldenberg, Suzanne, 147 Google, 70, 72, 78–80, 82, 157 Goudsblom, Johan, 18, 38 Gouldner, Alvin W., 7, 38, 46–49. See also Crisis of sociology Gross, Paul R., 12 Grushkin, Daniel, 160–162

H Haarmann, Anke, 100 Hacker ethic, 69, 163, 164, 172. See also Hacking Hacking, 158, 163, 165, 173. See also Hacker ethic Haerlin, Benny, 203 Hammer, Olav, 67, 116–118, 128 Hanegraaff, Wouter J., 57, 67, 117 Hannula, Mika, 100, 101 Harambam, Jaron, 25, 52, 77, 179, 180, 182, 184, 187, 204 Haraway, Donna, 9, 10, 27, 66, 185

236

INDEX

Harding, Sandra, 10, 27 Harrington, Stephen, 179 Harris, Anna, 126, 169 Hart, P. Sol, 225 Haseman, Brad, 99 Hedström, Peter, 56 Heelas, Paul, 23, 57, 117, 125 Heinich, Nathalie, 91, 95, 101, 104 Hellinger, Daniel C., 180 Henry, John, 14 Hersch, Carie L., 118, 120, 128 Heterodox science, 19, 67–72, 74–76, 81–83 Hierarchical individualism, 137, 139–146 Hierarchy of credibility, 47 Hill, Terrence D., 213 Hinduism, 20 HIV/AIDS, 8. See also AIDS Hoffman, Jan, 66 Hoffmann, Anna L., 82 Hofstadter, Richard, 179, 181, 184 Holm, Anders, 222 Homosexuality, 51, 58 Horkheimer, Max, 10, 11, 193, 197 House of Lords, 204 Houtman, Dick, 18, 23, 24, 28, 49, 55–59, 66, 120, 125, 134, 135, 207–209, 214 Howe, Richard, 129 Huang, Louis, 166 Hume, David, 5 Humes, Cynthia Ann, 116 Hunter, James Davison, 207 Hurcombe, Edward, 179 Husting, Ginna, 181

I Iannaccone, Laurence, 17 Identity politics, 12, 13 Information deficit model, 134

Inglehart, Ronald, 16, 26, 206–208 Inglis, David, 11 Inner-worldly asceticism (Weber), 20 International Genetic Engineered Machine (iGEM), 158, 159, 173 Internet, 19, 67, 69–75, 77–79, 81–83, 121–124 Interpreter, 47. See also Bauman, Zygmunt; Legislator Irrationality, 14, 16, 40, 196. See also Rationality J Jahweh (Weber), 40 Janse, Chris S.L., 121 Jasanoff, Sheila, 15, 28, 90 Jenkins-Smith, Hank, 135, 136, 141 Jenkins, Henry, 71, 82 Jenkins, Richard, 76 Jobs, Steve, 170 Johnson, Mark, 97 Joseph, Rhawn, 115 Josephson-Storm, Jason A., 11, 57 Jung, Eva-Maria, 96, 97 K Kabat-Zinn, John, 120, 125 Kahan, Dan M., 135, 136, 141 Kakutani, Michiko, 180 Karberg, Sascha, 160 Karlson, Kristian Bernt, 222 Keeley, Brian L., 183 Keen, Andrew, 73, 82 Keeter, Scott, 212 Keller, Evelyn Fox, 157 Kellner, Hansfried, 209, 224 Kelly, Kevin, 69, 74 Kelly, Susan, 169 Kepler, Johannes, 5 Kera, Denisa, 161 Kinchy, Abby J., 3

INDEX

237

King, Brendon, 204 Kitsuse, John I., 50, 51 Knight, Peter, 70, 77, 180, 182, 197 Knorr-Cetina, Karin, 27, 28 Knowledge, 5, 7, 10–15, 17, 19, 27, 28, 38, 39, 42, 43, 46, 47, 50, 53, 54, 66–68, 70, 71, 73, 81, 82, 89–93, 95–99, 102–106, 122, 123, 134, 135, 156, 161, 163, 165, 171, 172, 180, 181, 184, 185, 187–194, 196, 197, 204, 206–213, 216–218, 220–224 Knuckey, Jonathan, 213 Kuhn, Thomas S., 13, 14, 28, 47, 48. See also Paradigm Kuiken, Todd, 160–162 Kunda, Ziva, 22

Levy, Steven, 69, 163, 170 Lewandowsky, Stephan, 180 Lewis, James R., 116–118, 128 Limoges, Camille, 162 Lipset, Seymour Martin, 205 Locke, Simon, 185, 204 Lock, Simon J., 224 Lodge, Milton, 135 Loseke, Donileen R., 50, 51 Loukides, Mike, 165, 170 Löwy, Michaël, 119, 129 Luckmann, Thomas, 17, 24, 47, 192 Luhmann, Niklas, 94 Lupia, Arthur, 212 Lupton, Deborah, 79 Lutterman, Kenneth G., 208, 214 Lyotard, Jean-François, 12, 81

L Lacan, Jacques, 11 Laermans, Rudi, 19, 24, 66 Lahsen, Myanna, 206 Landrain, Thomas, 163 Landrum, Asheley R., 72, 75, 80, 81 Lascoumes, Pierre, 156 Lash, Scott, 206, 207 Latent social problem, 50. See also Social problem Latour, Bruno, 15, 66, 80, 90, 162, 185, 193, 197 Law, John, 15, 193, 197 Lay (audience, belief, etcetera), 16, 134, 146 Lazarsfeld, Paul F., 217 Ledwich, Mark, 82 Legislator, 47. See also Bauman, Zygmunt; Interpreter Lemert, Charles, 54 Lepenies, Wolf, 57, 105 Leprince-Ringuet, Daphne, 80 Lesage, Dieter, 91, 94, 103, 106 Levitt, Norman, 12

M Machold, Rhys, 181 Magic, 2, 39, 40, 57, 183 Maharaj, Sarat, 101 Makarovs, Kirils, 224 Malterud, Nina, 103 Manifest social problem, 50. See also Social problem Manjoo, Farhad, 22 March for Science, 2, 3, 6, 224, 225 Marcuse, Herbert, 10, 11, 193, 197 Marcus, George E., 182 Mareis, Claudia, 101 Marwick, Arthur, 10 Marxism, 10, 11, 197. See also Scientific Marxism Marx, Karl, 5, 59, 119, 182, 197 Mascini, Peter, 23, 57 Mauss, Marcel, 133 McCarthy, E. Doyle, 197 McDonald, Jessica, 72, 77 McIntyre, Lee, 180 McKinnon, Andrew, 119, 129

238

INDEX

McMahan, David L., 116, 125 Media determinism, 124 Meditation, 22, 116, 119–121, 125–127, 129 Melley, Timothy, 77, 181, 182, 185 Mercer, Leah, 100 Mersch, Dieter, 96, 97 Merton, Robert K., 13, 27, 50, 51, 56, 66, 75, 198 Meyer, Morgan, 162 Middleton, Russell, 208, 214 Miller, Jon D., 204 Miller, Steve, 206 Miller, Vincent, 75, 76 Millet, Piers, 160–162 Mills, C. Wright, 44, 45, 47, 48, 76, 195 Millstone, Erik, 204 Mindfulness, 22, 116, 119–121, 125, 126–129. See also New Age; Spirituality Misztal, Barbara, 209 Mode 2 knowledge, 106, 162 Modernity, 4, 20, 26, 52, 59, 90, 179, 182, 190, 207, 208, 224 Modernization, 17, 26, 40, 206–208 Montesquieu, 5 Mooney, Chris, 135 Moran, Cahal, 156 Moreira, Tiago, 156 Mörsch, Carmen, 101 Most, Noah, 163 Motivated reasoning, 22, 133. See also Cognitive dissonance; Confirmation bias Motta, Matthew, 3, 225 Mottram, Judith, 93 Moulton, Benjamin E., 213 Murer, Alexander, 165 Musgrove, Frank, 10 Musick, Marc A., 118, 120 Myth, 39, 40, 54, 57, 58, 190

N Nelson, Robin, 99, 103 Neuroplasticity, 127, 128 Neuroscience, 22, 65, 115, 116, 119–122, 126–129 New Age, 68, 117, 118, 125. See also Mindfulness; Spirituality Newcomb, Theodore M., 207 New social movements, 12, 53 Newton, Isaac, 5 Nhat Hanh, Thich, 125 Nicholson, Joshua, 165 Nickerson, Raymond S., 22 Nisbet, Matthew C., 135, 207 Non-institutional science, 172 Norris, Pippa, 16, 26, 205, 206, 216 Nowotny, Helga, 162, 224 Numbers, Ronald L., 116 Nye, Bill, 1 O Oberauer, Klaus, 180 Öberg, Johan, 99 Objectivity, 10, 12, 90, 91, 96, 191–193, 197 Olmsted, Kathryn S., 182, 183 Olshansky, Alex, 72, 75, 80 One-sidedness (of research), 8. See also Value relatedness (Weber) Online community, 74, 75 Open source, 25, 164, 167 Orr, Martin, 181 Orthodox science, 19 Otten, Myrta, 121 P Paradigm, 13, 14, 28, 48, 66, 67, 72, 98, 180. See also Kuhn, Thomas S. Pariser, Eli, 69, 79, 83 Parker, Martin, 181, 197

INDEX

Parr, Doug, 204 Participatory culture, 71 Pathologization, 182 Pei, Lei, 161 Pelkmans, Mathijs, 181 Pels, Peter, 118 Pendergrass, Michael L., 224 Perennialism, 24 Pérez Royo, Victoria, 100 Pinch, Trevor, 193, 197 Pipes, Daniel, 179, 182–185, 196 Platformization, 82 Pless, Anna, 23, 57 Pluralism, 12, 17, 18, 58, 66, 101, 102. See also Secularization Polderman, C.P., 121 Polymorphism, 24 Pons-de Wit, Anneke, 22, 146. See also Pons, Anneke Popper, Karl, 101, 180–184 Positivism, 7, 11, 38, 40, 45, 47, 48, 58, 117 Post, Jerrold M., 121, 122, 184 Postmodernism, 11, 12 Postmodernization, 26, 82 Postnormal science, 162 Post-truth, 22, 66, 180 Potter, Clive, 28 Power elite, 76, 195–197 Practice-based knowledge, 91, 92, 102 Prior, Markus, 212 Profane, 4, 21–24, 54, 119. See also Durkheim, Emile; Sacred Proferes, Nicholas, 82 Profundity (in sociology), 54, 56 Protestant ethic, 115 Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, The (Weber), 20. See also Protestant ethic Protestantism, 20, 40, 118, 119. See also Conservative Protestantism

239

Pseudo-science, 67, 70, 76, 81, 118, 119

R Rabesharisoa, Vololona, 156 Radicalization, 19, 78, 80–83 Rajan, Kaushik, 169 Ramachandran, Vilayanur, 115 Ratcliffe, Matthew, 115 Rationality, 5, 14, 16, 46, 180, 182. See also Irrationality Raven, Judith, 207 Ravetz, Jerome, 162 Reagan, Ronald, 3 Reason, 6–8, 10, 11, 15, 22, 26–28, 46, 49, 57, 70, 82, 93, 115, 118, 134, 138, 147, 148, 161, 193, 197, 206, 207 Re-enchantment, 41 Reformation, 23, 40, 41 Regime of singularity, 19, 91, 95, 101 Religion/science conflict, 4–7, 10, 13, 15–21, 23, 24, 26, 28, 38–42, 54, 57, 58, 65, 67, 68, 115–119, 128, 129, 133, 183, 184, 188 Religious decline, 16. See also Secularization Religious institutions, 23, 24 Religious privatization, 16. See also Secularization Renaissance, 17, 23, 57, 67, 165 Repstad, Pål, 16, 28 Rheingold, Howard, 74 Ribeiro, Manoel Horta, 79, 80 Richards, Othello, 72, 75, 80 Ricou, Joana, 166 Riesch, Hauke, 28 Rintz, Julia, 96, 97 Ritzer, George, 71 Roberts, Alan H., 208, 214 Robins, Robert Sidwar, 184

240

INDEX

Robson, Julie, 93 Rockefeller, Alan, 166 Rodriguez, Adam, 79 Roeland, Johan, 24, 49 Rokeach, Milton, 208, 214 Romanticism, 6, 7, 11, 46, 50 Rorty, Richard, 9, 12 Rosengren, Mats, 96 Roszak, Theodore, 10, 68 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 6 Rutjens, Bastiaan T., 180

S Sacralization of science, 4 Sacred, 4, 14, 16, 21–24, 41, 54, 57, 117, 120, 129. See also Durkheim, Emile; Profane Sacred canopy, 17. See also Berger, Brigitte Sánchez, José Antonio, 100 Sappington, A.A., 4, 26 Sargent, Mark, 80 Schiesser, Giaco, 94 Schinkel, Willem, 52 Schloendorn, John, 161 Schmidt, Markus, 161 Schneider, William, 205 Schön, Donald, 99 Schwab, Michael, 105 Science and Technology Studies (STS), 3, 13, 15, 16, 28, 89, 90 Science communication, 134, 172 Science confidence gap, 205–208, 210, 212, 216–221, 223–225 Scientific Marxism, 10 Scientism, 9, 15, 96, 102, 118. See also Secular religion Scott, Jacqueline, 213 Scott, Peter B., 224 Scrivener, Stephen, 106 Scroggins, Michael, 157

Scudellari, Megan, 169 Secularization, 17, 19, 23, 38, 58, 117, 183. See also Religious decline; Religious privatization; Structural differentiation Secular religion, 4, 5. See also Religion; Scientism Segal, Zindel, 125 Seidman, Steven, 5, 12, 53 Self-empowerment, 127 Setton, Damián, 116 Seyfried, Günter, 161 Shahsavari, Shadi, 179 Shallowness (in sociology), 54, 56 Shapin, Steven, 66, 185, 197 Sheldrake, Rupert, 188 Sherwood, Steven Jay, 58 Shifman, Limor, 77 Short, Michael, 204 Showalter, Elaine, 184 Side effects (of policy), 9 Simons, Massimiliano, 24, 25, 69, 158, 173 Sismour, Michael, 157 Skepticism, 73, 77, 102, 134, 155, 161, 188, 190, 197, 205 Slager, Henk, 96, 100 Smith, Philip, 14, 52, 58 Snow, Charles Percy, 105 Socialization, 73, 81, 83, 189, 206 Social pathology, 44, 45 Social problem, 9, 44, 45, 50, 51, 59, 198 Society for the Study of Social Problems , 46 Sociology of Scientific Knowledge (SSK), 14 Söderberg, Johan, 170 Soen, Shaku, 116 Solidarity, 21. See also Division of Labor in Society, The (Durkheim) Sollfrank, Cornelia, 103

INDEX

Soroka, Stuart, 225 Spector, Malcolm, 50, 51 Spencer, Herbert, 5 Spirituality, 23, 24, 118, 125, 129. See also Mindfulness; New Age Spiritual turn, 23 Spurious social problem, 50. See also Social problem Srole, Leo, 208, 214 Stano, Simone, 77 Stark, Rodney, 17 Stigma, 185 Stigmatized knowledge, 67, 68, 70–72, 79, 81 Stilgoe, Jack, 224 Strauss, Anselm L., 186 Strong program in cultural sociology, 14, 52 Strong programme in the sociology of knowledge, 14 Structural differentiation, 17. See also Secularization Stubager, Rune, 207 Sturgis, Patrick, 135, 206 Suicide (Durkheim), 59 Sunstein, Cass R., 180, 183 Suoranta, Juha, 101 Supernatural, 4, 15, 21, 39, 40, 189 Superstition, 41, 49, 183, 196 Sutton, Robbie M., 180 Symbolic interactionism, 50 Symmetry, 14, 16. See also Sociology of Scientific Knowledge (SSK) Synthetic biology, 157–159, 169, 172, 173

T Taber, Charles S., 135 Tabourazi, Dimitra, 206 Taggart, Paul, 13 Taylor, Charles, 17

241

Teasdale, John, 125 Technocracy, 10 Ten Kate, Josje, 205, 206 ‘The System’, 10, 164, 187. See also Counterculture Thomas, Douglas, 163 Thomas, Geoffrey P., 204 Thoreau, Henry David, 6 Tiemeijer, Will, 135, 141 Tolsma, Jochem, 142 Toulmin, Stephen, 5, 190 Transcendentalism, 6 Tromp, Paul, 22, 23, 57 Tröndle, Martin, 99 Trump, Donald, 2, 3, 155, 180, 224 Trust in scientific institutions, 203, 205, 208–212, 215–221, 223–225 Trust in scientific methods, 204–212, 215–224 Truth, 6, 9–12, 14–16, 18, 20–23, 26, 27, 37, 43, 47–49, 53, 54, 65–67, 70–72, 74–78, 81–83, 91, 92, 96, 98, 118, 135, 146, 147, 180, 184, 185, 191–194, 204. See also Epistemic authority Truth imperative, 18, 38 Tschannen, Olivier, 16 Turner, Bryan S., 117 U Unger, Rhoda K., 224 V Vaage, Nora S., 161, 168 Vaccination, 77, 80, 82, 147, 188, 189, 198. See also Anti-vaccination movement; Vaccine Vaccine, 77, 147, 180, 205. See also Anti-vaccination movement; vaccination

242

INDEX

Vadèn, Tere, 101 Value neutrality (Weber), 12, 42, 43 Value relatedness (Weber), 7, 43 Van Alstyne, Marshall, 77 Van der Veen, Romke, 207 Van der Waal, Jeroen, 25, 205, 206, 210, 214, 216, 217, 220 Van Dijck, José, 79, 83 Van Gelder, Hilde, 98 Van Zwanenberg, Patrick, 204 Vermeule, Adrian, 180, 183 Verstehen (Weber), 43, 55 Voas, David, 26 Voltaire, 5 W Wahlverwandtschaft (Weber), 20, 119. See also Elective ffinity Waisbord, Silvio, 180 Wallis, Roy, 16 Ward-Perkins, Zach, 156 Weak program in sociology of culture, 52 Weber, Max, 6–10, 12, 18, 20–22, 27, 28, 38–48, 54, 57–59, 115–119, 129, 197 Weil, Kelly, 81 Welzel, Christian, 206, 208 Wertbeziehung (Weber), 7, 43. See also Value relatedness (Weber) Wertungsfreiheit (Weber), 43. See also Value neutrality Wesseling, Janneke, 97, 103 White, Andrew Dickson, 4, 26 Wickramasekara, Sajith, 165 Wilbanks, Rebecca, 158, 161, 164 Wildavsky, Aaron, 22, 135 Williams, Marc, 120, 125

Wilsdon, James, 224 Wilson, Bryan, 16, 17 Wilson, Mick, 100 Winkelman, Michael, 116 Wisse, Maarten, 119 Wissenschaftslehre (Weber), 6, 12, 38, 41 Wohlsen, Marcus, 160, 173 Wolinsky, Howard, 160 Woodhead, Linda, 23, 24, 57, 117 Wood, Michael J., 180 Woods, James, 213 Woolgar, Steven, 15 Wordsworth, William, 6 Worland, Justin, 147 Worldview, 5–7, 13, 14, 20–23, 65, 67, 75, 79–81, 83, 116–120, 123, 125, 127, 128, 133–140, 144, 146–148, 183, 187, 188. See also Conservative Protestantism; Egalitarian communitarianism; Hierarchical individualism; Mindfulness Wozniak, Steve, 170 Wyatt, Sally, 169 Wynne, Brian, 89

Y YouTube, 70–74, 78–83, 187

Z Zaitsev, Anna, 82 Zaller, John R., 135 Zayner, Josiah, 165, 174 Zijderveld, Anton C., 10, 208, 224 Ziman, John, 204 Zimmer, Michael, 82