Science is a process not an endpoint

Photo by Willy Arisky from Pexels

The Covid-19 pandemic has provided us with almost daily observation of science at work. It has very much been an ugly affair with uncertainty being the key feature. But this is the nature of the beast, so to speak. 

Yes, science can be characterised by its dealing in uncertainty, as we have seen by the variations in the daily proclamations of what we should do or should not do to avoid the grip of the Covid virus and return to some semblance of normality. All this is expressed well by an Australian commentator viewing the changing advice of scientific experts on how to escape the ravages of the pandemic:

To the casual onlooker, this flip-flopping may indicate that the so-called experts have no idea what they’re doing. If you’ve spent any time in a comments section on the internet, you will have seen how this changing advice led to doubt and scepticism among the general population, evidence that scientists and public health officials have lost the plot. But instead, what is actually happening is that we are seeing the proverbial sausage of science being made in real time through our public health discourse.

The pandemic has been a clear demonstration that science is a method, not an endpoint. It is an ongoing process of hypothesising, testing, and interpreting the results of those tests through public policy. Though the hypothesis may be accepted or rejected, these interpretations are unlikely to be absolutely definitive statements or recommendations and are usually made with varying degrees of certainty.

The changes in advice have fed into the anti-vax logic. However:

Does this mean the science was wrong and that we can’t trust it? No. It means the science is working exactly as it should: our knowledge was incomplete, and we did more research, and adapted public health advice as a result. The fact that our institutions are paying attention to the constantly updating science and changing recommendations based on this information should be a comfort to us, but instead it tends to breed uncertainty. 

Trusting in the process of science, as it plays out in public health policy, sometimes involves uncomfortably abandoning ideas that provide a false sense of safety. This discomfort is one of the reasons many struggled to let go of hydroxychloroquine and ivermectin as miracle treatments, after both these drugs showed some early promise in managing COVID-19.

Unfortunately, as more research has been done, we have seen contradictory evidence for their efficacy and we cannot responsibly say with any substantial degree of certainty that these drugs are appropriate for the treatment of COVID-19 (at least at the time of publication). 

The writer urges an empathethic response to those skeptical of the generally accepted scientific findings:

The cold, hard hand of science is good at giving the answers we need, but not necessarily the assurances we want. This is where the human element can come in to bridge the gaps. We can’t promise our friends and family absolute safety in an uncertain world, but we can remind them there are steps we can take to improve our chances and help others who are more vulnerable than ourselves. Hopefully, we can all be communally minded and listen to the ongoing recommendations of those with expertise in this area, even when they can’t promise us the certainty we seek.

Scientists, too, will have been reminded through this pandemic experience that science is, indeed, a process and that any one finding is only as solid as the next one allows. They have to accept that their proclamations cannot be couched in terms of inevitability or certitude, but must be presented as evidence pointing in a certain direction. That takes humility, but it reflects the reality of the situation.