Objectivity and Proof: A Contemplation of Daston and Galison’s Objectivity

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Objectivity and Proof:

A Contemplation of Daston and Galison’s Objectivity

Diana Ascher

IS 291B—Special Topics in Theory of Information Studies

Prof. J.F. Blanchette

1/26/13

 


 

 

Objectivity and Proof: A Contemplation of Daston and Galison’s Objectivity

 

Introduction

Objectivity, by Lorraine Daston and Peter Galison, is a dense—though fabulous—read. In this paper I tackle only a subset of all that is offered in the authors’ examination of scientific atlases as a means to understanding the evolution of the definition of the term “objectivity” over time, as well as its relationship to the metamorphosis of the scientific self. Focusing on how the standards by which society judged scientific truth claims changed according to moral values and their consequent epistemological virtues, Daston and Galison provide a longitudinal view of the meaning of objectivity and its role in shaping the scientific self.

Summary

Objectivity is a lesson in judgments and standards. Daston and Galison explore the evolution of the meaning of the term “objectivity” by drawing connections between temporal, societal moral norms and epistemological virtues that served as the bases for scientific practice and scientists’ conception of the self.

The longitudinal perspective provides a unique look at the history of science—one that differs noticeably from the narrow, in-depth studies of particular historical periods in science. Informed by such focused histories, Daston and Galison trace the meaning of objectivity through time, philosophical understandings, and societal situations and predilections with the aim of explaining the evolution of the scientific self.

Objectivity guides the reader through the transformation of what objectivity means and how this meaning affected the scientist’s practice and sense of self. In brief, Daston and Galison move from the truth-to-nature re-representations of natural phenomena approach of the 18th century, through the 19th-century practices of mechanical and structural objectivity and 20th-century trained judgment. The authors conclude with a look at the emergence of the image-as-tool approach, in which presentation of a phenomenon is less concerned with the idea of fidelity, in favor of “right manufacture.” (p. 414)

In each era, it should be noted, the human need to classify drives the epistemological approach practiced. Categorization and its semantics are referenced throughout the book as a method of activating knowledge of nature so it can be known. The authors say, “Nature must be defined by knowledge to be knowable.” (p. 53) I interpret this to mean that we, as knowing beings, have a need to classify what we encounter in order to understand it. And such classification can only originate from existing knowledge. Thus, the selection of epistemological approach for representation of phenomena influences how we categorize our world.

Critical analysis

If the authors had wished merely to trace the semantic evolution of objectivity, I would imagine Objectivity would be more like a booklet. However, the semantic discussion serves as a vehicle to demonstrate how various influences shaped the scientific way of being. As for visual representation of this evolution, Daston and Galison rely on scientific atlases and the evolving standards and techniques employed in their creation over time.

Throughout this atlas-oriented historiography, Daston and Galison analyze the changing standards of scientific proof and resultant approaches to representation of natural phenomena and their effects on the scientific self. They “have chosen to tell the history of scientific objectivity through pictures drawn from the long tradition of scientific atlases, those select collections of images that identify a discipline’s most significant objects of inquiry.” (p.17) While the illustration of the history of scientific representation (and, eventually, presentation) is exemplified beautifully in the atlas images, my personal interest in this work lies in the way standards of objectivity developed and how these standards relate to proof. Thus, I focus on the authors’ study of scientific atlases “because atlases set standards for how phenomena are to be seen and depicted.” (p. 19)

The authors establish early on that scientific objectivity is the ideal to which scientists aspire in their efforts to re-represent the world. This premise not only demands a definition of scientific objectivity, but also it necessitates consensus that certain methods and practices meet acceptable standards of proof.

Such standards of proof cannot be considered a litmus test of reality. Rather, they are proof thresholds that determine whether a scientific claim will be accepted as truth within a societal context. Working toward an ideal that cannot be perfectly reproduced means that the ideal exists independently of the human observer. An observation cannot be the thing itself.

It follows, then, that the existence of an ideal substantiates the existence of the suboptimal. Because the ideal is unattainable (it is the phenomenon, not the re-representation), the only kind of scientific objectivity that can be achieved in re-representation of nature is suboptimal. Further, the attempt to re-represent nature devoid of human influence is doomed from the start. A human must create the re-representation, and that human is an interloper in the world of pure nature.

Daston and Galison do a masterful job describing the evolution of the meaning of objectivity and the influence of its perpetual vicissitude on the scientific self. Much of their analysis focuses on the decision making involved in what scientists present as truth, given the proof thresholds existing in the social context of the time.

For example, during the period when the truth-to-nature approach was au currant, the scientist bore the responsibility of creating the ideal re-representation of a natural phenomenon. To do so, the scientist employed his own judgment to determine what should be considered an ideal re-representation, and what accidental outliers should be excluded from the body of scientific knowledge. The proof threshold for ideal re-representation relied on those features that were constantly observed. Of course, discarding aberrations from the norm limits the scientific record, obfuscating the natural variability of “real” phenomena.

If attaining the ideal is impossible, what determines the acceptance of criteria for proof? How can scientists identify and classify nature so that others can know about it? The authors explain how the epistemic virtues of each era dictate what criteria must be met for a re-representation to be taken as true.

Truth to nature

Daston and Galison determine that objectivity became a scientific term in the mid-19th century. During this time period, scientific truth was influenced heavily by religious beliefs, which accorded an inordinate amount of control over knowledge—and its social epistemology—to clergy. In terms of criteria for truth, the church dictated truth to society, often with dire consequences for those who questioned religious authority.

Scientists adapted their practices in an effort to establish truths based on what was physically observable and replicable by their peers. Standards for representing the true nature of our world were based on the moral values of the time. In the mid-19th century, the standards that served as proof thresholds had to do with depicting a “pure” re-representation of nature as it is. To do so, one has a few mutually exclusive options:

•           re-represent all of nature so its variability is known

•           re-represent ideal versions of natural phenomena

Of course, the former approach is impossible due to the existence of an infinite number of natural phenomena and the perpetual growth of the natural world. The latter approach—the one that scientists undertook—seemed possible, but requires human choice of what an ideal re-representation is and which re-representations are worthy of inclusion in our understanding of reality. In other words: What goes in the atlas?

So scientists developed standards by which they measured one another’s findings—the scientific method as delineated by Peirce. Such standards necessarily embody the epistemic virtues of the era, because they are the means by which knowledge is deemed true. Those epistemic virtues are determined by the social context in which they are created. And, of course, social context is explicitly human. Thus, scientists could not possibly create ideal re-representations because the scientists, themselves, are human.

Mechanical objectivity

If the mere observation of phenomena by humans does not meet the proof threshold within a society, what about observations that are made by machines? This was the next approach scientists employed as an attempt to remove the primary obstacle to ideal re-representation.

Mechanical objectivity seemed like an interesting solution to the problem of human subjectivity and proof. Daston and Galison explain that machines were regarded at this time as having authenticity. Because machines existed that could capture natural phenomena, society expected scientists to remove themselves from the equation in favor of automatic, scientifically objective re-representation of the natural world. (p. 129)

It seems at this time that scientists weren’t bothered by—or at least accepted as necessary—the fact that machines are created by humans, and, therefore, reflect the moral values and societal assumptions of the time, as well.

Structural objectivity

However, as this shortcoming of mechanical objectivity became a focus of concern, scientists looked to the structures of nature. This phenomenological orientation was geared toward removing the human element by creating standards by which the scientist would repress his subjective interpretations by sheer will, thus re-representing the phenomenon in its reality. The authors explain that “the mid-nineteenth-century appropriation of the Kantian terminology of objective and subjective in science tended to fuse the epistemological and ethical,” which led to the belief that objectivity was an epistemological problem, separate from “the metaphysical aim of truth.” (p. 210) This separation of objectivity from truth created a tension between scientific progress and the permanence of scientific truth. The idea that scientific truths are impermanent was deeply troubling to scientists of the time. It called into question the very purpose of scientific study. As Daston and Galison note, “Quests for truth and quests for objectivity do not produce the same kind of science or the same kind of scientist.” (p. 232)

Just as machines are created by humans and embody the epistemological virtues of the era, the very mechanisms by which scientists process what they perceive through their senses and relate those perceptions are products of society, as well. The standards for proof at this time were dictated by whether society trusted that the scientist could re-represent nature without influencing the depiction whatsoever. Another impossibility. But they tried.

They attempted to train scientists to recognize natural structures, rather than interpret their own sensory inputs. The authors call this structural objectivity, or trained judgment. Experts in various scientific fields earned the trust of knowledge seekers by virtue of their training to observe and re-represent structures in nature. “Scientific image judgment had to be acquired through a sophisticated apprenticeship.” (p. 331) Authenticity moved from machines back to scientists, albeit once they were trained in how to be objective according to the proof thresholds of the time.

However, a natural bias toward the way people of the era viewed the world was inescapable. “Interpreted images got their force not from the labor behind automation, self-registration, or absolute self-restraint, but from the expert training of the eye, which drew on a historically specific way of seeing.” (sic) (p. 331)

Call for subjectivity

In the mid-to-late 20th century came “a new practice of sorting nature in which trained judgment, subjectivity, artisanal practice, and unconscious intuition all were heralded as vital to the scientific project of classification.” (p. 332) The atlases from this time period called for what was once considered the enemy of objectivity—subjectivity!

The authors relate how an update of Grashey’s atlas defined the proof threshold for scientific objectivity: “The proof of the validity of the material presented is largely subjective, based on personal experience and on the published work of others. It consists largely of having seen the entity many times and being secure in the knowledge that time has proved the innocence of the lesions.” (p. 342) Once again, as norms evolved, so did the scientific self. The scientist now had the responsibility to create interpreted re-representations of natural phenomena that demonstrate the limits of the normal. (p. 344) To do so required not only training in what is known to be true about a phenomenon, but also the ability to recognize anomalies.

Representation to presentation

The evolution of objective scientific practice has morphed again, this time into a hybrid that seems to borrow from the other approaches in a measured fashion. The authors describe a fusion of multiple senses of objectivity that stems from the opposition to subjectivity within each approach. (p. 379) “What they all have in common is the repudiation of one or another aspect of the subjective self.” (p.380) Each approach attempts to work against some subjective influence in order to provide a truthful re-representation of natural phenomena.

Now, however, images are functioning as tools. Rather than re-representations, images are being used as presentations (nanomanipulation). The authors note that nanomanipulation appeals to both science and business. The commercial aspect of using images as tools to create new things changes the standards by which the images are judged. Corporate use of nanomanipulation may engender different goals, and, therefore, the images may be positioned as art, rather than scientific re-representation of phenomena. (p. 382-4) In such cases, the scientific self becomes a maker, rather than an observer. Dalton and Galison point out Hacking and Bacon’s assertion that “only use could provide robust realism.” (p. 392) The new scientific self is observer and creator.

While Objectivity is a triumph in terms of reorienting the scientific community toward a more expansive view of what it means to be objective and how this meaning is perpetually shaped by moral values and the scientist’s sense of being in the world, there are a few points of clarification that may prove useful for a more public audience. First, though Daston and Galison explain that scientific atlases are choice objects for the study of the scientific self and the meaning(s) of objectivity, the authors focus on the creation of the atlases, to the exclusion of how the published works are used and interpreted. Certainly, Daston and Galison selected and articulated their scope, which was already daunting. I am interested, however, in how the users of atlases thought about the ways images were presented. In addition, I would imagine that access to such expensive and delicate books would not always have been widespread. If the atlases were intended only for practitioners of science, how would that make the burden of re-representation easier or more difficult? Conversely, if the atlases were intended for a broader audience, would the epistemological approaches employed be appropriate? I can envision an esoteric scientific community with values that may differ from the society at large. If an atlas is geared toward the scientist, the images perhaps should be of a certain sort to meet the scientist’s proof thresholds. However, if the atlas were intended for a lawyer (or any other member of society), it may be that the proof thresholds are markedly different according to the values of the lawyer’s community.

Another consideration is that there may be other types of collections of re-representations of nature that would demonstrate different approaches or alternate aspects of a society’s values. What if the authors had chosen to analyze surgical notes, or inventory records, or something completely different? I think the manner in which the natural world is described—be it with text, image, or other format—would reflect the moral values of the society in a variety of other ways.

Conclusion

Daston and Galison’s Objectivity offers the scientific community a more expansive way of thinking about the nature of objectivity over time and how the epistemological virtues favored at various points in history have shaped the scientific self. The authors applied a critical history approach to an as-yet-unexamined concept using touchstones in art, philosophy, epistemology, and psychology. This approach helps the reader think about the meaning of objectivity as a changeable, adaptive concept, which adds a new level of perception and understanding to how we do science and how we evaluate truth. This understanding changes the scientific self simply by our being aware of it. And this awareness further molds the meaning of objectivity and how we define ourselves.

 

 

 

References

Daston, L. & Galison, P. (2007). Objectivity. New York : Cambridge, Mass: Zone Books ; Distributed by the MIT Press.

Daston, L. & Galison, P. (Autumn, 1992). The Image of Objectivity. Representations, (40), 81-128. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/2928741. Accessed 01/06/2013.

Robinson, D. Review of Objectivity by Lorraine Daston, Peter Galison. The Review of Metaphysics, 62(2), 393-395. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/40387886..Accessed: 01/06/2013.

Strong, T. (2008). A review of Lorraine Daston and Peter Galison’s Objectivity. The Weekly Qualitative Report, 1(10), 62-66. Retrieved from http://www.nova.edu/ssss/QR/WQR/daston.pdf. Accessed 01/06/2013.