A brief review this week, since I’m already late as it is.
Last week we talked about the concept of progress (Bingham) and the social consequences that occur as a result of quickly “moving forward” (Routledge). The Bingham article was very provocative to me, breaking down our culturally accepted definition of progress and questioning its application. He cites Stengers who characterized progress as “one of the most profoundly powerful of political strategies.” Early in the article, this forces the reader to wonder: how exaggerated is this concept, and is it relative in its application? Moreover, Latour suggests that we (moderns) believe on some level that we have conquered the past. From my perspective, modern progress seems to be interpreted as becoming more civilized and more integrated into the globalized whole. We become more educated, more analog, more digital... more connected. But what Bingham will argue is that progress is (or perhaps should be) a process of picking up our histories and our assemblages and moving forward along with those heavy masses. Only then can we truly progress.
Routledge looks at Actor Network Theory and how associations can be formed globally. He provokes us to examine how data and knowledge are circulated; technologically?, culturally?, conversationally?, institutionally? Routledge states that “The world is made up of numerous networks of association which are constituted by [association], by the movement of ‘traffic’ through their links.” However, he goes on to show us that some networks receive more traffic than others. The internet is responsible for mobilizing a great deal of traffic globally, but Routledge calls these “partial connections.” I would have to agree, because the internet generates data that are culturally relevant to their authors; a personal network (unlike the internet) has context, history, and background. Later, Routledge draws on Latour who reiterates that “context is always made in process, rather than being pregiven.” While information can be circulated globally, what we know and understand is essentially a translation of how new data effects our own personal network.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Redistributing and Rethinking Expertise - Michelle Sumovich
The concept of expertise is quite complex. What makes and expert? Education and credentials? Experience? Knowledge? Answering this question is significant because, in the world that we live in, we look to experts to point us in the right direction. Who is steering us toward the future, and what course are they taking? Several STS scholars have taken up the issue to determine how and at what rate the public, institutions, and government should be involved in this process. Moreover, should finding political legitimacy in science be a democratic process, or one that is left to the “experts.” Both papers this week (Collins & Evans and Whatmore) conclude that the public is capable of becoming more involved in the making of scientific issues, and that the time is now.
These articles help us realize that the political sphere rotates at a much more rapid pace than science and society. Yet issues within these two realms are constantly pulled into politics and filed through quickly and often without thorough investigation. For this reason, Whatmore encourages a slowing-down of reasoning, discouraging science from becoming caught up in the galloping pace of politics. She maps three forms of public involvement in scientific controversy: partisanship, demoscience, and competency groups. The first, partisanship, arms the public with enough knowledge to determine if the controversy is fair or weighted. Demoscience encourages the tracing of the web of involvement to investigate the living and non-living players causing and effected by a controversy. Finally, she refers to competency groups which are beginning to take shape in some democracies, in which panels are arranged between “experts” and the public to fold societal issues into science before science takes and institutional form.
Whatmore’s mapping of knowledge controversies appears to be akin to Collins’ three waves of science. His First Wave, characterized by the experts’ concern with remaining unbiased compliments Whatmore’s “partisanship.” When it becomes apparent that science cannot be partisan, Wave Two, or social constructivism, allows for Whatmore’s “demoscience” to take form, wherein the public has the resources to trace the form of controversy. Collins & Evans claim that Wave Three does not replace, but augments, Wave Two by granting public access to science before a consensus has been made. This certainly compliments the competency groups which Whatmore has mapped.
Early in their paper, Collins and Evans seem to establish that it is experience, the doing of some thing, which makes a person an expert. But they also imply that there is a myth that the doers have “special access to the truth” (236). Here they are recognizing that knowledge is mobilized through circulating reference (literature, lecture, media, maps, photos, etc), and the truth can be pieced together by non-experts...were they granted access to sufficient data. This addresses their “Problem of Legitimacy,” and ultimately the authors suggest that the answer to the “Problem of Extension” involves a relationship between a broad, interdisciplinary scientific community and the public in “all but specialist areas.” This concept is certainly akin to that of Whatmore’s.
These articles help us realize that the political sphere rotates at a much more rapid pace than science and society. Yet issues within these two realms are constantly pulled into politics and filed through quickly and often without thorough investigation. For this reason, Whatmore encourages a slowing-down of reasoning, discouraging science from becoming caught up in the galloping pace of politics. She maps three forms of public involvement in scientific controversy: partisanship, demoscience, and competency groups. The first, partisanship, arms the public with enough knowledge to determine if the controversy is fair or weighted. Demoscience encourages the tracing of the web of involvement to investigate the living and non-living players causing and effected by a controversy. Finally, she refers to competency groups which are beginning to take shape in some democracies, in which panels are arranged between “experts” and the public to fold societal issues into science before science takes and institutional form.
Whatmore’s mapping of knowledge controversies appears to be akin to Collins’ three waves of science. His First Wave, characterized by the experts’ concern with remaining unbiased compliments Whatmore’s “partisanship.” When it becomes apparent that science cannot be partisan, Wave Two, or social constructivism, allows for Whatmore’s “demoscience” to take form, wherein the public has the resources to trace the form of controversy. Collins & Evans claim that Wave Three does not replace, but augments, Wave Two by granting public access to science before a consensus has been made. This certainly compliments the competency groups which Whatmore has mapped.
Early in their paper, Collins and Evans seem to establish that it is experience, the doing of some thing, which makes a person an expert. But they also imply that there is a myth that the doers have “special access to the truth” (236). Here they are recognizing that knowledge is mobilized through circulating reference (literature, lecture, media, maps, photos, etc), and the truth can be pieced together by non-experts...were they granted access to sufficient data. This addresses their “Problem of Legitimacy,” and ultimately the authors suggest that the answer to the “Problem of Extension” involves a relationship between a broad, interdisciplinary scientific community and the public in “all but specialist areas.” This concept is certainly akin to that of Whatmore’s.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Science Communication Reconsidered - Michelle Sumovich
In recent history, science has taken a new role which would claim to have roots in social servitude (ie. medicine). Science is privately contracted to address the concerns of institutions which, in turn, are concerned with social concerns. Nonetheless, the public is often skeptical or untrusting of the motives and results of these privately funded projects. This evolution has created much chaos in the way that science is communicated among scientists, institutions, and the public. This week’s article was written by a large panel of scientists who are concerned with the way that science is communicated today, though the various disciplines and levels of expertise among the panel likely determine their personal stake in this article (perhaps concerns about society, institution, or bureaucracy). The authors note that the emergence of technology in recent decades enables the public to become involved in scientific discourse. However, these advances are not merely scientific in nature; technology has also created a void wherein the public can easily escape communication about science (and intellect) entirely.
A challenge clearly exists in the modern world involving the ability to engage the public in scientific discussion. The authors do not see this as a scientific challenge, however, but a social and journalistic one. Currently science communication initiatives are focused on educating the public about scientific controversy and “filling the deficit in knowledge,” but the authors argue that ideology, social identity, and trust are equally important factors to the public. They also note that public involvement in scientific controversy is currently downstream from institutionalized policy, and they encourage an upstream mobilization of public involvement while science is still “in-the-making.”
This mobilization of information would, of course, take place via the relationship between scientific journalism and the public. The public does not learn about science in the lab, so we rely on journalism to explain to us what is happening there. Likewise, journalism is reliant upon the public to read/watch their reports on such subjects. Therefore, framing is an inevitable occurrence which satisfies both parties. It gives the institution a bigger and broader audience, and it gives the public greater trust in the issue. This is one aspect of framing that I am convinced about. But I am still unsure about the purity and thoroughness of this approach. This article states that “communication is both an art and a science.” I am still a bit uneasy about the artistic license which some science journalists may choose to employ, and the confusion that is carelessly created through metaphor. In contrast, the authors also mention the fragility of arguments associated with authors who personally or artistically employ a negative mode of communication compared to those whose personal preference leads them to write in a positive tone of voice. It’s a tough world out there.
This article promotes a blurring of the line between the public and science in journalism in an attempt to make neither social nor scientific concerns exclusive of one another. The authors also promote the growth of active public involvement through blogs, forums, and conferences. I believe that this “active” involvement would allow the public to frame the issues for themselves. This is what all of us students do every day that we attend lecture. We listen to what the professor is saying about X and all the while we’re thinking about what X tells us about our research paper due next week which is about Y and Z. I am very comfortable with this idea, in contrast to my persistent hesitancy about journalistic framing.
A challenge clearly exists in the modern world involving the ability to engage the public in scientific discussion. The authors do not see this as a scientific challenge, however, but a social and journalistic one. Currently science communication initiatives are focused on educating the public about scientific controversy and “filling the deficit in knowledge,” but the authors argue that ideology, social identity, and trust are equally important factors to the public. They also note that public involvement in scientific controversy is currently downstream from institutionalized policy, and they encourage an upstream mobilization of public involvement while science is still “in-the-making.”
This mobilization of information would, of course, take place via the relationship between scientific journalism and the public. The public does not learn about science in the lab, so we rely on journalism to explain to us what is happening there. Likewise, journalism is reliant upon the public to read/watch their reports on such subjects. Therefore, framing is an inevitable occurrence which satisfies both parties. It gives the institution a bigger and broader audience, and it gives the public greater trust in the issue. This is one aspect of framing that I am convinced about. But I am still unsure about the purity and thoroughness of this approach. This article states that “communication is both an art and a science.” I am still a bit uneasy about the artistic license which some science journalists may choose to employ, and the confusion that is carelessly created through metaphor. In contrast, the authors also mention the fragility of arguments associated with authors who personally or artistically employ a negative mode of communication compared to those whose personal preference leads them to write in a positive tone of voice. It’s a tough world out there.
This article promotes a blurring of the line between the public and science in journalism in an attempt to make neither social nor scientific concerns exclusive of one another. The authors also promote the growth of active public involvement through blogs, forums, and conferences. I believe that this “active” involvement would allow the public to frame the issues for themselves. This is what all of us students do every day that we attend lecture. We listen to what the professor is saying about X and all the while we’re thinking about what X tells us about our research paper due next week which is about Y and Z. I am very comfortable with this idea, in contrast to my persistent hesitancy about journalistic framing.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Issue Oriented Public Involvement - Michelle Sumovich
Noortje Marres’s article on public involvement in controversy is a challenging one. She uses several literary examples from works which are likely equally challenging, so this article becomes a bit soupy to the layman. However, there are several points of clarity wherein Marres brings it all together and, I must admit, hashing this article out in the classroom was extremely valuable.
Her paper argues for increased public awareness and involvement in controversial issues which currently tend to be formed and framed by institutions before the public becomes interested. Her feeling is that when institutions act alone in defining what the issues are, they set the foundation, the limits, and the boundaries for public discourse. An important point is that institutions such as government and commerce have no real incentive to listen to public opinion. It is much easier for them to form their platform and allow public supporters and opponents to fall in line. This concept is intriguing to me, and I think that it can be evidenced by looking at many of the large-scale modern controversies that are argued today. Generally there are two opposing sides to many controversies, such as pro- and anti- or liberal and conservative. The public is large and varied, and I assume that the institutional framing of issues supports this simple model of X vs. Y. If issue formation were to increase within the public sphere, I think that we would begin seeing more variability within discourse.
To address this goal, Marres would like to see STS studies become increasingly focused on “issue-oriented” rather than “object-oriented” controversy. Her feeling is that researchers are currently too focused on objects of controversy; for example oil, pharmaceutical drugs, and national borders. Focusing on these objects, however, sometimes results in the dismissal of the fact that there are people behind them, effected by them, and producing them. This course has encouraged us to appreciate a recognition of the players or actants that are involved in a controversy, and I think that is what Marres is arguing for as well. Moreover, if her plea resulted in a trend of increased disclosure about the players and actors, the public and laymen would be less dependent on the expertise of the institution to put the pieces together for them. My point being, that the public does not typically have the time to become expert on the spectrum of players in controversy, but a movement to educate readers about people would 1. provoke interest in issues and 2. make bringing the public up to speed seemingly easier. Also, if this were the standard, the public may effectively become more comfortable with “the upstream” by critically judging expertise by what issues, people, and concerns are addressed or more importantly not addressed within scientific literature.
I have a personal example to share about the power of non-institutionalized public involvement, specifically through blogging. About five years ago, a friend of mine with no formal college education, whom I worked with at a retail store decided that she would like to educate herself about politics. She began researching government policy and blogging about her observations, gaining a following among colleagues. After several years of building a foundation in the blogoshpere, Sarah began volunteering for local campaigns. Now this self-educated woman who made political involvement her personal goal only five years ago, is in Washington working as Jeff Merkley’s deputy press secretary. Her story is personally inspirational to me, but Marres’s article has augmented my perception of the importance of such communication.
Her paper argues for increased public awareness and involvement in controversial issues which currently tend to be formed and framed by institutions before the public becomes interested. Her feeling is that when institutions act alone in defining what the issues are, they set the foundation, the limits, and the boundaries for public discourse. An important point is that institutions such as government and commerce have no real incentive to listen to public opinion. It is much easier for them to form their platform and allow public supporters and opponents to fall in line. This concept is intriguing to me, and I think that it can be evidenced by looking at many of the large-scale modern controversies that are argued today. Generally there are two opposing sides to many controversies, such as pro- and anti- or liberal and conservative. The public is large and varied, and I assume that the institutional framing of issues supports this simple model of X vs. Y. If issue formation were to increase within the public sphere, I think that we would begin seeing more variability within discourse.
To address this goal, Marres would like to see STS studies become increasingly focused on “issue-oriented” rather than “object-oriented” controversy. Her feeling is that researchers are currently too focused on objects of controversy; for example oil, pharmaceutical drugs, and national borders. Focusing on these objects, however, sometimes results in the dismissal of the fact that there are people behind them, effected by them, and producing them. This course has encouraged us to appreciate a recognition of the players or actants that are involved in a controversy, and I think that is what Marres is arguing for as well. Moreover, if her plea resulted in a trend of increased disclosure about the players and actors, the public and laymen would be less dependent on the expertise of the institution to put the pieces together for them. My point being, that the public does not typically have the time to become expert on the spectrum of players in controversy, but a movement to educate readers about people would 1. provoke interest in issues and 2. make bringing the public up to speed seemingly easier. Also, if this were the standard, the public may effectively become more comfortable with “the upstream” by critically judging expertise by what issues, people, and concerns are addressed or more importantly not addressed within scientific literature.
I have a personal example to share about the power of non-institutionalized public involvement, specifically through blogging. About five years ago, a friend of mine with no formal college education, whom I worked with at a retail store decided that she would like to educate herself about politics. She began researching government policy and blogging about her observations, gaining a following among colleagues. After several years of building a foundation in the blogoshpere, Sarah began volunteering for local campaigns. Now this self-educated woman who made political involvement her personal goal only five years ago, is in Washington working as Jeff Merkley’s deputy press secretary. Her story is personally inspirational to me, but Marres’s article has augmented my perception of the importance of such communication.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
The Assemblage - Michelle Sumovich
This week’s readings unite many seemingly unrelated concepts into the coherency of the “assemblage.” Latour and Bennett are both concerned with the interconnectedness that exists among the scientific, social, human, and non-human realms. The authors show us the shaping of matter into scientific form through the mobilization of not only the most obvious scientific actants, but also through the influence of the social, public, political, bureaucratic, and peripheral. To use Latour’s chapter for example, the functions of uranium and heavy water would be irrelevant to Joliot were it not for their necessity in the making of his atomic reactor. Were it not for the production of uranium and the discovery of the isotope used to make heavy water, Joliot may have never worked for Raoul Dautry nor the French military. Each of these actants is causally responsible in some way for the production of Joliot’s atomic reactor, and they continue to act as his achievement affects other elements of the world. However, as Bennett points out, this causality is nonlinear. X does not affect Y. There are many (infinite?) Xs which influence many Ys. Bennett refers to this as “emergent causality” in which “effects and cause alternate position and rebound back upon each other” (459). In other words, all humans, non-humans, and concepts have influence upon “the others” and are influenced by “the others”. This is the shapeless blob known (or unknown) as the assemblage.
Bennett makes reference to a traditional Chinese concept known as Shi which is impressed upon me as a state of knowing, seeing, and sensing the many actants which make up an assemblage. Shi is not simply the essence of the world as expressed through human causality, but an illumination of the shifting dispositions of the world. The author attempts to bring the reader into a sort of state of Shi through her analogy of the electric power grid which Bennett describes as a flow of electrons whose mobility is not entirely predictable, as evidenced by the 2003 direction reversal between Pennsylvania and New York following an outage (451). The unforseeable occurred when this electron flow changed course, behaving as an “entity with uncertain boundaries,” or directionality without reason. I think this example shows us that by making science (building electric grids and atomic reactors) we are sometimes harnessing, taming, or shaping nature to reach a goal BUT when we shape reason into structures, contexts, settings, climates, and conditions, and likewise when we inappropriately assign human agency to causality, we can easily rob ourselves of an understanding of the Shi operating among the assemblage. I believe that Latour and Bennett would agree that how we perceive cause and agency can affect the ways in which we put the world into words.
Bennett makes reference to a traditional Chinese concept known as Shi which is impressed upon me as a state of knowing, seeing, and sensing the many actants which make up an assemblage. Shi is not simply the essence of the world as expressed through human causality, but an illumination of the shifting dispositions of the world. The author attempts to bring the reader into a sort of state of Shi through her analogy of the electric power grid which Bennett describes as a flow of electrons whose mobility is not entirely predictable, as evidenced by the 2003 direction reversal between Pennsylvania and New York following an outage (451). The unforseeable occurred when this electron flow changed course, behaving as an “entity with uncertain boundaries,” or directionality without reason. I think this example shows us that by making science (building electric grids and atomic reactors) we are sometimes harnessing, taming, or shaping nature to reach a goal BUT when we shape reason into structures, contexts, settings, climates, and conditions, and likewise when we inappropriately assign human agency to causality, we can easily rob ourselves of an understanding of the Shi operating among the assemblage. I believe that Latour and Bennett would agree that how we perceive cause and agency can affect the ways in which we put the world into words.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Circulating Reference - Michelle Sumovich
This week our concern is how we “pack the world into words.” Bruno Latour’s Chapter on soil sampling in the Amazon illustrates the many steps that one must take in formulating scientific conclusions and theories. Only after performing a series of preparations, calibrations, tests, and analyses is one able to conclude a “study.” Latour shows us that making reference is not pointing to ‘x’ and saying “this is the answer,” making reference is a process in which knowledge is transformed. In the context of this chapter, I think that the ability to transform knowledge is enhanced by involvement of scientists from various professional and social backgrounds, each of whom brings his/her own expertise to the table to influence what is known.
Another theme in this chapter is that of “mobilization.” Scientists mobilize the world into the realm of science by engaging the public through texts and articles. The doing of science is made possible by mobilizing nature (samples) into the laboratory. Conversely, science can also be mobilized into nature. Latour states of the field site, “I thought I was deep in the forest, but the implication of this sign ‘234,’ is that we are in a laboratory, albeit a minimalist one, traced by the grid of coordinates” (32). On thing that interests me about mobilization is that it seems to be, in and of itself, a time of great transformation. Plant samples are brought to the laboratory for analysis, but they are taken out of context of the forest; they represent only a moment in time; they’re dried to kill the fungi and insects that are a part of the referent...though irrelevant to the “matter” at hand. However, when samples from different points in time are recombined and compared to one another, they are transformed again to tell an entirely new story, one of time and change. As Latour puts it, “in losing the forest, we win knowledge of it” (38).
Circulating reference is just this. It is the pattern of giving form to matter again and again until your research question has been sufficiently addressed. Putting the world into words is a process of making reference. But, as we discussed in class, reference is a string whose credibility relies upon its traceability. The string must withstand the unwinding that occurs when one looks at the process of the forming up of matter, and this string must also be able to wind itself up once again. As studies relevant to this same subject matter are performed, the string undergoes this process of reversal, and if it proves to be credible, it is reinforced by additional credible studies, forming a rope. If it is not credible, it must be unwound to the point of error and attempted once more.
Credible knowledge can only be achieved through the use of careful field and lab methods. If one does not properly locate, record, sample, and measure the matter that is being studied, the form of the study itself is compromised. Articulating the properties of matter and imposing qualitative categories depends on the use of tools to measure samples. Latour shows us that the information gained through this process, gives data a stability that transcends time. Once we know that the properties of ‘x‘ are ‘1’ and ‘2’, we can communicate this information to the world outside of the Amazon. This is how science is mobilized. But of course, I always have to give my two cents about the importance of expressing the methods that are used in the field. Anyone and everyone can put the world into words. Without articulating one’s methods, the world is incapable of scientifically and/or intellectually determining if this is the edition which they would like to read, internalize, and accept as truth.
Another theme in this chapter is that of “mobilization.” Scientists mobilize the world into the realm of science by engaging the public through texts and articles. The doing of science is made possible by mobilizing nature (samples) into the laboratory. Conversely, science can also be mobilized into nature. Latour states of the field site, “I thought I was deep in the forest, but the implication of this sign ‘234,’ is that we are in a laboratory, albeit a minimalist one, traced by the grid of coordinates” (32). On thing that interests me about mobilization is that it seems to be, in and of itself, a time of great transformation. Plant samples are brought to the laboratory for analysis, but they are taken out of context of the forest; they represent only a moment in time; they’re dried to kill the fungi and insects that are a part of the referent...though irrelevant to the “matter” at hand. However, when samples from different points in time are recombined and compared to one another, they are transformed again to tell an entirely new story, one of time and change. As Latour puts it, “in losing the forest, we win knowledge of it” (38).
Circulating reference is just this. It is the pattern of giving form to matter again and again until your research question has been sufficiently addressed. Putting the world into words is a process of making reference. But, as we discussed in class, reference is a string whose credibility relies upon its traceability. The string must withstand the unwinding that occurs when one looks at the process of the forming up of matter, and this string must also be able to wind itself up once again. As studies relevant to this same subject matter are performed, the string undergoes this process of reversal, and if it proves to be credible, it is reinforced by additional credible studies, forming a rope. If it is not credible, it must be unwound to the point of error and attempted once more.
Credible knowledge can only be achieved through the use of careful field and lab methods. If one does not properly locate, record, sample, and measure the matter that is being studied, the form of the study itself is compromised. Articulating the properties of matter and imposing qualitative categories depends on the use of tools to measure samples. Latour shows us that the information gained through this process, gives data a stability that transcends time. Once we know that the properties of ‘x‘ are ‘1’ and ‘2’, we can communicate this information to the world outside of the Amazon. This is how science is mobilized. But of course, I always have to give my two cents about the importance of expressing the methods that are used in the field. Anyone and everyone can put the world into words. Without articulating one’s methods, the world is incapable of scientifically and/or intellectually determining if this is the edition which they would like to read, internalize, and accept as truth.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Literature and the Laboratory - Michelle Sumovich
Chapters 1 and 2 of Bruno Latour’s Science in Action focus on the elements of science-in-the-making, which occur in the laboratory and then through literature which describes the scientists’ findings. Latour begins with an explanation of the article-writing and claim-making process, prior to his account of the “doing” of science, perhaps because article-reading is relatively more familiar to the average layman. However, despite the familiarity of the article format, the levels of discourse and chaos that exists in the production of science literature is surprising.
Latour discusses modalities as the foundation for how a claim is made, modalities being the varied presentations of ideas in literature. It is an intriguing thought that the shape of an argument can be formed by the passiveness or aggressiveness of presentation and by a simple choice of words. Latour states that “it is around modalities that we will find the fiercest disputes since this is where the behaviour of other people will be shaped” (p 25). Collins (2009) may say that this expresses the inevitability of human influence in science. To some degree, I think that modalities are a function of biases being expressed discretely (and perhaps unintentionally) and subsequently, they provoke the expression of the readers’ own biases about how things are presented. In this sense, Latour suggests that science authors can make or break their position right out of the gate because our opinions and biases are larger than the scientific matter at hand. But to what extent can modality be controlled for, and should it be?
This chapter also makes us realize a degree of vulnerability experienced by scientists who rely on the reference of previous (credible) work, the acceptance of the upstream (and perhaps downstream) community, and the success of this work as expressed by its citation within well-founded articles in the future. To curb this “hostile environment,” Latour offers positioning tactics such as stacking, staging, framing, and captation to guide the success of one’s argument. Here he encourages science authors to be courageous with their logic...but not too courageous; to leave their readers free to discuss the claim, while subtly controlling the objectors‘ criticisms. In order to stay afloat, the author must find a balance between positive and negative modalities which makes his article neither too passive nor aggressive for certain audiences. However, as addressed in our class discussions and readings about framing, this process runs the risk of compromising the context of and data from the original study. The larger a controversy grows, the greater the risk of the data becoming misused and removed from its original intention. The differential use of “internal virtues,” as discussed by Kosso, show us how study 1 can be used to support study 2 against author 1’s intentions. I fear that an over-emphasis on positioning exaggerates non-scientific elements of a paper, and may subsequently make it more vulnerable to the manipulation of contrasting virtues which enable author 2 to “change” a study without ever taking it back into the laboratory.
But fortunately Latour does take us into the laboratory to discuss the tests and methods which produce the data, graphs, and theories that are expressed through literature. He states that once in the lab, it is much more difficult for the dissenter to challenge a claim because here they can see the “proof” with their own eyes. But on the other hand, one must examine the credibility of “proof” as it is expressed either through actual instrument readings and measurements or through the conclusions drawn from them. Moreover, one must consider the accuracy of the readings and measurements that are being used. Latour says that it is at this juncture, that one must decide to give up, accept the findings, or recreate the study for himself to measure his results against the current claim.
From Kosso we see that asking for the justification of claims is a necessity, because science is only trust-worthy to the degree that it can justify how nature and the world actually work. His focus as a philosopher of science is on how we approach “the unobservable” to answer questions about these phenomena with whatever fragmentary evidence we do have. Here we replace claims and counter-claims with theories and counter-theories, giving a new and very abstract meaning to ideas of “proof,” “accuracy,” and “credibility.” However, as should be the case with claims, formidable conclusions can only be drawn through the doing of experiments. It seems that in the world of theory, credibility is achieved through the diminishment of hypotheticals.
An important point of these two chapters is that “facts” very rarely ever speak for themselves. If they did, then where would controversy arise? In its purest sense, discourse must evolve from a natural variation of methodologies and personal interpretations of data, from positive and negative modalities, and (un)realized personal biases. In an impure sense, perhaps this type of discourse is born out of explicit “interpretations” of data driven by special interests and personal ethics. I am not so skeptical as to assume that the latter is the norm. However, Latour does make it clear that the longevity of one’s study depends on objectivity and a sufficient amount of support, again conjuring images of being courageous but not too courageous; sensational but not over-sensational. In this sense it becomes somewhat understandable how one may struggle in an internal battle to achieve both credibility and longevity.
Latour discusses modalities as the foundation for how a claim is made, modalities being the varied presentations of ideas in literature. It is an intriguing thought that the shape of an argument can be formed by the passiveness or aggressiveness of presentation and by a simple choice of words. Latour states that “it is around modalities that we will find the fiercest disputes since this is where the behaviour of other people will be shaped” (p 25). Collins (2009) may say that this expresses the inevitability of human influence in science. To some degree, I think that modalities are a function of biases being expressed discretely (and perhaps unintentionally) and subsequently, they provoke the expression of the readers’ own biases about how things are presented. In this sense, Latour suggests that science authors can make or break their position right out of the gate because our opinions and biases are larger than the scientific matter at hand. But to what extent can modality be controlled for, and should it be?
This chapter also makes us realize a degree of vulnerability experienced by scientists who rely on the reference of previous (credible) work, the acceptance of the upstream (and perhaps downstream) community, and the success of this work as expressed by its citation within well-founded articles in the future. To curb this “hostile environment,” Latour offers positioning tactics such as stacking, staging, framing, and captation to guide the success of one’s argument. Here he encourages science authors to be courageous with their logic...but not too courageous; to leave their readers free to discuss the claim, while subtly controlling the objectors‘ criticisms. In order to stay afloat, the author must find a balance between positive and negative modalities which makes his article neither too passive nor aggressive for certain audiences. However, as addressed in our class discussions and readings about framing, this process runs the risk of compromising the context of and data from the original study. The larger a controversy grows, the greater the risk of the data becoming misused and removed from its original intention. The differential use of “internal virtues,” as discussed by Kosso, show us how study 1 can be used to support study 2 against author 1’s intentions. I fear that an over-emphasis on positioning exaggerates non-scientific elements of a paper, and may subsequently make it more vulnerable to the manipulation of contrasting virtues which enable author 2 to “change” a study without ever taking it back into the laboratory.
But fortunately Latour does take us into the laboratory to discuss the tests and methods which produce the data, graphs, and theories that are expressed through literature. He states that once in the lab, it is much more difficult for the dissenter to challenge a claim because here they can see the “proof” with their own eyes. But on the other hand, one must examine the credibility of “proof” as it is expressed either through actual instrument readings and measurements or through the conclusions drawn from them. Moreover, one must consider the accuracy of the readings and measurements that are being used. Latour says that it is at this juncture, that one must decide to give up, accept the findings, or recreate the study for himself to measure his results against the current claim.
From Kosso we see that asking for the justification of claims is a necessity, because science is only trust-worthy to the degree that it can justify how nature and the world actually work. His focus as a philosopher of science is on how we approach “the unobservable” to answer questions about these phenomena with whatever fragmentary evidence we do have. Here we replace claims and counter-claims with theories and counter-theories, giving a new and very abstract meaning to ideas of “proof,” “accuracy,” and “credibility.” However, as should be the case with claims, formidable conclusions can only be drawn through the doing of experiments. It seems that in the world of theory, credibility is achieved through the diminishment of hypotheticals.
An important point of these two chapters is that “facts” very rarely ever speak for themselves. If they did, then where would controversy arise? In its purest sense, discourse must evolve from a natural variation of methodologies and personal interpretations of data, from positive and negative modalities, and (un)realized personal biases. In an impure sense, perhaps this type of discourse is born out of explicit “interpretations” of data driven by special interests and personal ethics. I am not so skeptical as to assume that the latter is the norm. However, Latour does make it clear that the longevity of one’s study depends on objectivity and a sufficient amount of support, again conjuring images of being courageous but not too courageous; sensational but not over-sensational. In this sense it becomes somewhat understandable how one may struggle in an internal battle to achieve both credibility and longevity.
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