IN 1883, the English philosopher William Whawell coined the term “scientist.” Up to that point, many of the historical figures we now call scientists called themselves “natural philosophers.”
Almost all of those natural philosophers, and even many of those who would later identify themselves as scientists, did not get paid to do science. For them, science was a hobby.
Antoine Lavoisier, considered the “father of modern chemistry,” was a tax and customs administrator who used the wealth he accumulated to fund the research he did with his wife Marie-Anne at their home. Ada Lovelace, considered the “first computer programmer,” was a countess whose affluence gave her the leisure to pursue her research in mathematics and computation. Charles Darwin was a paying passenger aboard the HMS Beagle. He was not even the official naturalist of the ship; the title goes to the surgeon Robert McCormick. Instead, Darwin served as the gentleman companion of the ship’s captain. This gave him the free time to roam and muse over what would later become the theory of evolution by natural selection. The ship’s captain, by the way, was Robert FitzRoy, a pioneer of modern meteorology; he coined the term “forecast.”
The central role science plays in our daily lives makes it hard for us modern people to imagine that world, not so long ago, when pushing the boundaries of the unknown was something ladies and gentlemen did during their free time. The concept of a professional scientist, a person who earns a living by advancing our knowledge in a specific aspect of nature, is a very new one, newer even than the word “scientist.” As far as concepts go, however, it is a very powerful one.
The establishment of science as a profession allows for the more focused training of specialists and more concentrated funding of their activities. It also allows society to expect from its scientists a certain level of competence and dedication in their field. By accelerating the growth of knowledge and its application, the concept of the professional scientists essentially helped in created the modern world.
It is therefore not surprising why professional scientists, from astronomers to zoologists, enjoy a special status in modern society. We look up to them, respect them, and, ideally, listen to their advice on their field of expertise. Recently, we even started finding them cool. As someone who has some training in science, I think it is warranted (for the most part, at least).
But for all its value, we shouldn’t let this development blind us from some very important facts:
First, that the desire to know how the world around us works is a deeply human desire, and that we can and should all participate in it, whether we are paid to do so or not.
Second, that the project of figuring out our place in the scheme of the things and improving our collective lot is undertaken by our species as a whole. Every time a child asks a question such as why the sky is blue or where babies come from, they are revealing how innate the desire to understand how the world works is.
Our distant ancestors who looked up into the night sky and wondered what the stars were made of often came up with myths and legends instead of scientific theories. Their contemporaries who experimented with breeding plants and animals were right on many things but were wrong on more. But theirs were the first, stumbling steps in a journey that took us to the particle accelerators of CERN and the space probes of NASA.
We have gone a long, long way from the myths, legends, hits, and misses of our predecessors. We still have a long way to go, but we will only get there if we, as a society, understand science as a human endeavor we should all care and be interested about, whether we’re professional scientists or not.
Unfortunately, not everyone has the privilege to be entertaining such interests. As it was in the 18th and 19th century, science is still often for those who have the leisure to think lofty thoughts. For so many people, the desire to know is overshadowed by the desperation to survive. In a world where many of our day-to-day decisions require an understanding of science, having so many people ignorant of science is a tragedy.
That is why the work of making the public appreciate science cannot be separated from the work of giving everyone equal opportunity to appreciate science.
Perhaps the answer to this problem also lies in science. Maybe we can start gathering the tools to chip away at this mountain of a problem from fields ranging from game theory to neuroscience to behavioral psychology. If we can, then we should. Because, as I hope you agree, science should be for everyone.
(Pecier Decierdo is a science communicator for The Mind Museum.)
