The Church has “a history” when it comes to science. Whether it’s in Descartes’ fear to publish his cosmology (after the Galileo incident), or Brian McLaren’s The Story We Find Ourselves In, you can see the tensions. It hasn’t always been a war, but it hasn’t always been peace-time either.
Pope Benedict XVI recently made another move in this saga through a speech about the ways in which science has violated human dignity. He was speaking specifically about genetic and reproductive issues, but there are others. The main problem is, he said, that people treat others as things.
No matter how you feel about the Church’s past statements or current stances, it’s hard to argue with the Pope’s claim that objectifying our fellow humans is wrong. After all, worrying about objectification is not something only Catholics do.
In Being and Nothingness,for instance, Jean Paul Sartre (a philosopher of the same school as John Paul II) wrote about the way people objectify each other through their “look.” It’s rather unsettling. He thought everyone’s always objectifying someone (even if it’s her- or himself).
And I occasionally get the feeling that, as much as I love science, it’s doing the same thing.
Of course, science isn’t a thing — so it can’t “do” anything. But in the same way you worry the psychologists you bump into are “analyzing” you, I sometimes want to tell scientists to stop objectifying me. You can’t reduce me to some thing (or group of things)!
Imagine, for instance, that you were talking to a psychiatrist instead of a psychologist, and you asked her what a thought is. She might respond, “Well, it’s a pattern of neuronal firings.” A what? “A thought happens when neurons release electrical charges and/or neurotransmitters across synapses to other neurons.”
Oh. Okay. So a thought is cells talking to each other? “You could say that.” So if I’m going to understand thought, I need to know what cells are. “Uh-huh. But talk to Dr. X about that. He’s a neurologist. I have to go get some punch.”
You turn to Dr. X. What exactly does it mean for a neuron to release an electric charge? “Well it means that electrons from the molecules of one neuron jump to the molecules of another neuron, or neurotransmitter molecules cross a synapse and transfer the charge that way.”
Molecules? “Yeah. Structured collections of atoms. You know.” Sounds like I need to know about atoms, then. “Of course. But talk to Dr. Y about that. She’s a molecular biologist.”
You turn to Dr. Y. What’s the connection between a molecule’s charge and the atoms of which it is made? “Well, each atom has a charge, and all the charges add up in a molecule.” Where do atoms get their charges? “Each atom is made up of smaller particles which have their own charges. Except neutrons.”
So, if I want to understand atoms, I need to know about the parts of atoms? “Absolutely.” But if cells are really groups of molecules, and molecules are really groups of atoms, and atoms are really groups of sub-atomic particles — how far down does it go? “Oh, at least another level or two.”
Does it stop? “We think so.” Okay. “Why do you ask?” (You pause, trying to remember.) It was something about thinking. Wait a second . . . (you start to feel uncomfortable). Why are you looking at my particles? Eyes up here, Mister!
“What? I’m a woman, not a ‘Mister.’” Oh. Uh. (You snap out of it.) Sorry. I asked Dr. W about thoughts. (You tap your right temple.) And you all kept working your way further and further south. Never been ogled by scientists before.
“I’m still confused.” Yeah. Sorry. Brainspasm. Ignore me. “Okay. But if you’re interested, I could give you some books on molecular biology.”
This tendency we have to reduce humans to the non-human through science is a violation of our dignity too. And what’s fascinating is the authority attached to “science” disguises the fact that the technique really doesn’t answer our questions.
When you ask about mind, or emotions, or love, or will-power, and end up talking about subatomic particles, it should be obvious that somebody’s changed the subject. But if it’s a scientist talking, you tend to be in due-deference mode. You don’t notice the switch.
Not that “science” is the only thing to blame, of course. It’s only because intellectuals prefer definitions which “analyze” things into their “constituent parts” that scientists are tempted to do the same.
In some situations, defining a thing to pieces isn’t so terrible. But when you do it to human things, it is.
And it’s not that scientists shouldn’t “go there,” either. It’s wonderful (and useful) to know what happens in the brain when you know, or love, or desire, or think. Humans aren’t disembodied spirits, after all. What happens to the physical side of the person affects the spiritual and vice versa.
In fact, even splitting a person up into the physical and spiritual can get you into trouble. Isn’t that split the definition of death? Creepy.
The point is that to think about humans, you have to be able to think about the parts of a whole without reducing the whole to the parts (or throwing away some parts in favor of others). It’s kind of fun once you get used to it. Like Sudoku. A little mental challenge can be invigorating.
Let’s just not get lazy, and allow our eyes to drop. The Pope may be critiquing science (“again”), but that doesn’t mean science needs to be treated as a martyr. Gratitude and caution are not incompatible.
And not every scientist is a reductionist.
*Micah Tillman is a lecturer in the School of Philosophy at The Catholic University of America. His blog can be found at http://micahtillman.com/