On the dichotomy of science

In the introduction to Part III of "The History of Western Philosophy," Bertrand Russell notes that there exist two types of science: theoretical and practical. Theoretical science

"...is an attempt to understand the word. Practical science, which is an attempt to change the world, has been important from the first,and has continually increased in importance, until it has almost ousted theoretical science from men's thoughts."

I find this dichotomy of science to be absolutely fascinating. What's more, I'm at this moment suspicious that this dichotomy may actually be different from the common division of science into basic and applied realms, as I will now explain.

First, I'll define basic and applied science as I understand them. Importantly, the definitions that I will present are, I think, what most scientists would agree on. Basic, or fundamental, science is a means for establishing modes of thought or logical frameworks for arriving at predictive models of natural phenomena.  According to Wikipedia, "basic science is development and establishment of information to aid understanding." Applied science, however, seeks to alter the course of natural events and achieve some purpose.

Now consider the mantra espoused by many scientists and professional organizations that is argued before governments and funding agencies: basic science and fundamental research often leads to important discoveries that are translated into new technologies. Importantly, technology and economic prosperity go hand-in-hand. In this argument, it is therefore assumed that basic science is linked to applied science in some kind of linear chain which ends with technology and prosperity. Indeed, some current business models are capitalizing on the apparent gap between academic research and industry by creating a business for translating information from the former to the latter.

In this line of reasoning, basic science and applied science are both means to the same end: new technologies and their resulting economic stimulus. The goals of Russell's two types of sciences are different, however. Theoretical science increases our understanding of the world, whereas practical science provides us with more of something tangible, whether it be electricity, airplanes, or smart phones. Practical science encompasses both basic and applied science. As Russell points out:

"The triumph of science has been mainly due to its practical utility, and there has been an attempt to divorce this aspect from that of theory, thus making science more and more a technique, and less and less a doctrine as to the nature of the world."

Even CERN, which at first glance is a triumph of theoretical science, is touted for its technological contributions to applied science. If it were otherwise, I doubt the European Union would have funded it.

The point I'm trying to make is that Russell saw in theoretical science something wholly different from most scientist's understanding about what science is and lies outside of their definitions of basic and applied. I think his theoretical science is more akin to how children see science. Working scientists, however, are forever having to justify their work to governments and funding agencies, which eventually erodes the role that the theoretical aspect plays on their conception.

What good would an awareness of theoretical science provide? Does the general public, i.e. non-scientists or government workers, even need to understand that this dichotomy exists? To a layman, applied science contains just as much wonder and insight as theoretical science does.

Socrates on allegiances

"Gentlemen, I am your grateful and devoted servant, but I owe a greater obedience to God than to you; and as long as I draw breath and have my faculties I shall never stop practicing philosophy"
Socrates, from Plato's The Apology

Ernest Rutherford on statistics

"If your experiment needs statistics, you ought to have done a better experiment."
Ernest Rutherford

Socrates on death

"Some one will say: And are you not ashamed, Socrates, of a course of life which is likely to bring you to an untimely end? To him I may fairly answer: There you are mistaken: a man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying; he ought only to consider whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong--acting the part of a good man or of a bad..."
Socrates, from Plato's The Apology

Meditating on the right questions

Meditations all have a common cause. In fact, they're not so much about the existence of a problem and a need to address it, but rather they stem from the very human desire to analyze, to make sense of, to bring order to where there is chaos in the mind. People will debate forever, say, the purpose of the state or the origin of beauty, but is it really the implications of these questions alone that drive us into discourse? I suspect that there is more. Meditation is not solely for the achievement of a goal, but also to identify the form of a question that's worth answering. In so doing, we render a complex problem into something tractable and worth solving.

I am of course writing not about meditation in the Eastern-mystical sense, but rather about the act of pursuing a problem, investigating its premises, eliciting its subtleties, and reducing it to its bare essence. I think the art of meditation, if it may be called an art, is something that every man, woman, and child should practice, consciously or otherwise. It is a unique ability of the human mind. And, being fundamentally human, it can satisfy in some primeval way, much like the view earned from a hike in the Rockies above timberline or the final product of many hours spent painstakingly stripping, sanding, and then refinishing an old wooden table. Much like the latter example, it is an active sort of fulfilment which requires the brain to make concrete an abstract image rather than to simply appreciate some innate aesthetic quality.

So I propose this to those struggling to make sense of something in their lives: it is the nature of human beings to meditate, and this can be used to your advantage. Think about a question that relates to your problem and decide whether it intrigues you, whether it makes you want to turn it over and examine it from every angle. If it doesn't, your natural faculties of meditation cannot aid you and it may not be worth your efforts to proceed further with a solution. Reformulate the question  and try again. Through a process of trial and error, you'll happen upon the right question that cuts to the heart of your problem.

Addendum: I found an interesting blog post that stated that people minimize the negative feelings associated with an unfortunate event if they can "make sense" of it. However, "making sense" of some act also reduces positive feelings from an event as well.

Impact bias -- apparently I'm not original

I recently (within the last year) came to the conclusion that it is a fallacy to project my current emotional state far into the future. For example, I often worry that I'll become locked into the same job for the rest of my life with no opportunity for change. However, the reality is that opportunities present themselves regularly and I always possess the freedom to find some new career.

I realized that this fallacy could be generalized to many different things and have given it as advice to others under some sort of stress. I was rather proud of this idea and thought it to be original. Like many intellectual constructs, however, I was merely reinventing the wheel.

While reading through the comments on a post at LessWrong I discovered the idea of impact bias. It's precisely what I had in mind, though much more developed. For example, it also states that we have a tendency to project positive emotions too far into the future. Take a look at the link. It's interesting and to keep it in mind helps to alleviate a lot distress we inflict upon ourselves.

Into the lion's den

Confirmation bias is the term for seeking out sources of information that positively reflect one's current beliefs. Sometimes these sources can be other people.

Today I had a conversation with an old acquaintance who readily extolled his beliefs on religious open-mindedness, problems with government, and other weighty affairs. I agreed with nearly everything he said; I found myself making small remarks in agreement. And these were the only remarks I was making.

I notice that when like-minded people converse on polarizing topics, their conversations simply reflect their collective moods and nothing much new is learned. To arrive at new conclusions, we have to challenge our beliefs. Very often this means associating with people who have very different views from our own. It's good practice at arguing, and is valuable so long as we remain open-minded to allowing our beliefs to change.

Note: I wonder if my idea of values and beliefs, as defined in LessWrong, are the same thing.