This is an important book precisely because there is none other quite like it.

The question of the relationship of the making of value judgments in a typically ethical sense to the methods and procedures of science has been discussed in the literature at least to that point which e. e. cummings somewhere refers to as “The Mystical Moment of Dullness.” Nevertheless, albeit with some trepidation, I feel that something more may fruitfully be said on the subject.

Most traditional epistemologists see trust and knowledge as deeply antithetical: we cannot know by trusting in the opinions of others; knowledge must be based on evidence, not mere trust. I argue that this is badly mistaken. Modern knowers cannot be independent and self-reliant. In most disciplines, those who do not trust cannot know. Trust is thus often more epistemically basic than empirical evidence or logical argument, for the evidence and the argument are available only through trust. Finally, since the reliability (...) of testimonial evidence depends on the trustworthiness of the testifier, this implies that knowledge often rests on a foundation of ethics. The rationality of many of our beliefs depends not only on our own character, but on the character of others. (shrink)

Although epistemic values have become widely accepted as part of scientific reasoning, non-epistemic values have been largely relegated to the "external" parts of science (the selection of hypotheses, restrictions on methodologies, and the use of scientific technologies). I argue that because of inductive risk, or the risk of error, non-epistemic values are required in science wherever non-epistemic consequences of error should be considered. I use examples from dioxin studies to illustrate how non-epistemic consequences of error can and should be considered (...) in the internal stages of science: choice of methodology, characterization of data, and interpretation of results. (shrink)

1. Deductive and Inductive Inference. Within the traditional treatments of scientific method, e.g., in and, it was customary to divide scientific inference into two parts: deductive and inductive. Deductive inference was taken to mean the activity of deducing theorems from postulates and definitions, whereas inductive inference represented the activity of constructing a general statement from a set of particular “facts.” Deductive inference was relegated to the mathematical sciences, and inductive inference to the empirical sciences. As a consequence, the whole of (...) science was split into two quite distinct parts: deductive science was conceived to start with precise axioms, postulates, and definitions, and its method consisted in drawing inferences from these “givens” in such a way that if the original assumptions are taken as true, then the theorems must be taken as true also. The obligation behind this “must” of the mathematical sciences was an obligation based on strict rules of deductive inference; in the earlier analyses, it was supposed that these rules were all aspects of the general theory of the syllogism, as it was described in an almost complete form in but in later work the rules have been formalized in more general terms. Inductive inference, on the other hand, was supposed to start with observed facts; these facts, or “data,” were presumably given by the senses, and described particular aspects of the external world. If the facts were given in a certain way, then the empirical scientist could “infer” a generalized description; this generalization had the characteristic that if it were granted as true, then all the facts could be deduced as consequences. The inductive process admittedly does not lead to unique generalizations, and the philosopher of science searched for other defining characteristics of good inference, such as “simplicity” and “convenience.” These empirical generalizations were taken to be “descriptions of the phenomenal world of the scientist”; a further inductive step might be taken by constructing a set of very general principles out of the more specialized generalizations within specific research problems. These “higher” inductive inferences were regarded as “theories,” which could be studied by themselves within the method of deductive inference. The scientist was then described as “checking” theory by determining whether or not the predicted consequences deduced from theory actually hold in the phenomenal world. (shrink)

What is empiricism and what could it be? Bas . van Fraassen, one of the world’s foremost contributors to philosophical logic and the philosophy of science, here undertakes a fresh consideration of these questions and offers a program for renewal of the empiricist tradition. The empiricist tradition is not and could not be defined by common doctrines, but embodies a certain stance in philosophy, van Fraassen says. This stance is displayed first of all in a searing, recurrent critique of metaphysics, (...) and secondly in a focus on experience that requires a voluntarist view of belief and opinion. Van Fraassen focuses on the philosophical problems of scientific and conceptual revolutions and on the not unrelated ruptures between religious and secular ways of seeing or conceiving of ourselves. He explores what it is to be or not be secular and points the way toward a new relationship between secularism and science within philosophy. (shrink)

The debate about the rational and the social in science has sometimes been developed in the context of a distinction between epistemic and non-epistemic values. Paying particular attention to two important discussion in the last decade, by Longino and by McMullin, I argue that a fuller understanding of values in science ultimately requires abandoning the distinction itself. This is argued directly in terms of an analysis of the lack of clarity concerning what epistemic values are. I also argue that the (...) philosophical import of much of the feminist work in philosophy of science is restricted by any kind of strict adherence to the distinction. (shrink)

Helen Longino seeks to break the current deadlock in the ongoing wars between philosophers of science and sociologists of science--academic battles founded on disagreement about the role of social forces in constructing scientific knowledge. While many philosophers of science downplay social forces, claiming that scientific knowledge is best considered as a product of cognitive processes, sociologists tend to argue that numerous noncognitive factors influence what scientists learn, how they package it, and how readily it is accepted. Underlying this disagreement, however, (...) is a common assumption that social forces are a source of bias and irrationality. Longino challenges this assumption, arguing that social interaction actually assists us in securing firm, rationally based knowledge. This important insight allows her to develop a durable and novel account of scientific knowledge that integrates the social and cognitive. Longino begins with a detailed discussion of a wide range of contemporary thinkers who write on scientific knowledge, clarifying the philosophical points at issue. She then critically analyzes the dichotomous understanding of the rational and the social that characterizes both sides of the science studies stalemate and the social account that she sees as necessary for an epistemology of science that includes the full spectrum of cognitive processes. Throughout, her account is responsive both to the normative uses of the term knowledge and to the social conditions in which scientific knowledge is produced. Building on ideas first advanced in her influential book Science as Social Knowledge, Longino brings her account into dialogue with current work in social epistemology and science studies and shows how her critical social approach can help solve a variety of stubborn problems. While the book focuses on epistemological concerns related to the sociality of inquiry, Longino also takes up its implications for scientific pluralism. The social approach, she concludes, best allows us to retain a meaningful concept of knowledge in the face of theoretical plurality and uncertainty. (shrink)

For the last 40 years or so the is/ought gap, the fact/value distinction and the naturalistic fallacy have figured prominently in ethical debates. This longevity, however, has had an adverse side effect. So familiar have they become that they—and their respective rationales—have tended to become blurred. It is the purpose of this paper to explain why they should be kept distinct.

I contend that Janet Kourany's "A Philosophy of Science for the Twenty-First Century" contains three levels of projects: (1) a naturalistic project, (2) a critical project, and (3) a political project. The naturalistic project is already well established. The critical project is less valued and less established within the profession, but seems a worthy and achievable goal. The political project, I argue, takes one outside the professional pursuit of the philosophy of science. The critical project encompasses both the evaluation of (...) scientific research programs and of empirical conclusions. I contend that the former is widely acknowledged as legitimate while the latter is unacceptable. (shrink)