The underlying consensus

The last two chapters have been rather abstract. There has been practically no reference to empirical facts, and the line of argument always seemed to stop short of the really interesting questions. What is the point of outlining a purely schematic model of the R & D system?

The very possibility of there being general agreement on such a representation of the social context of science is fundamental for the future of STS education. It is this unacknowledged consensus on the underlying structure of the subject that can bring coherence to the curriculum. This particular model is not necessarily the best possible, but it was worth describing in outline, not because it is sharply disputed, but because there is so little realization of how much, in fact, is implicitly held in common by those involved in the STS movement.

This underlying structure is somewhat more complicated than scientist philosophers or sociologists used to believe. But it cannot be made simpler without grave distortion. To make sense of ‘academic’ science, for example, one must take seriously all three aspects – the psychology of research and invention, the sociology of the scientific community, and the philosophical criteria for objective knowledge. The immense resources needed nowadays for scientific apparatus cannot be ignored. In a wider social context, science is seen to be inseparable from technology, making up an R & D system whose internal management and public policies have profound effects on science itself and in society as a whole.

Unifying STS education

‘Valid’ science is taught as if it were unconnected with the world about it. In reality, it is linked in many ways to society, especially through its technological applications. The basic need in science education is to teach about Science, Technology, and Society, and the various ways in which they interact with one another. At this stage in the discussion let us not argue about whether this is a convenient name for a heterogeneous collection of subjects for teaching and research, or whether it should be regarded as a distinct academic discipline (see chapter 9). All that we can say is that there exists a significant movement for STS education whose main objective is to reform, or improve, or complement conventional science teaching in this general direction.

But what, in fact, does this subject consist of? For many of the advocates of STS education it seems sufficient to point out all the fallacies in the scientific attitude, and to correct them by reference to alternative points of view. Thus, for example, scientific positivism is to be opposed by philosophical arguments such as those of Karl Popper, or the notion of the objectivity of the scientific expert is to be examined critically in the light of historical evidence about technological decisionmaking. Each manifestation of scientism is to be combatted separately, on its own particular front.

Since the movement for STS education is little more than a loose alliance covering a wide spectrum of opinion, this piecemeal approach to the subject is conveniently non-controversial. Each teacher can feel free to draw up his own personal catalogue of horrors and errors, and to expound his own brand of alternative wisdom.

The cycle of innovation

The educational system in Britain – perhaps it is the same everywhere – has a characteristic penetration time of about twenty years. This seems to be about the time it takes for an educational innovation to get properly established. When it is first mooted, by one or two unconventional thinkers, it is dismissed out of hand by the official authorities, who point out how unnecessary, damaging or absurd it would be to, say, raise the school-leaving age, make all secondary education comprehensive, teach children to use electronic calculators, or whatever else new is suggested. It then takes at least a decade of seemingly fruitless debate, shoestring trials, heart-breaking set-backs, inconclusive investigations and other disappointments before the enthusiasts prove their point in principle.

This, in my opinion, is the present state of the movement for STS education. It has been going now for something like ten years, and the pundits of science education are at last beginning to concede that there is a good case for some sort of reform of this kind. Indeed, as is the way with pundits, they can most of them now argue the case for it as if they had never thought otherwise, quite ignoring their previous scornful opposition.

But this is only half way through the cycle of innovation. The debate must now shift from questions of principle to questions of practice – where are the resources, the teachers, the textbooks, to do what we all agree (don't we?) ought to be done?

A diversity of ways

The principal defect of conventional science education is that it gives a very one-sided impression of science and technology. The fundamental objective of STS education is to correct this impression by teaching about science in its social context. By this means it is hoped to broaden the background of students of science and technology, and to prepare them better for their lives as professional workers and as responsible citizens.

But science and technology have many different social aspects and dimensions. The STS theme can be approached in many different ways, according as one emphasizes one or other of these aspects. This is apparent in the great diversity of the curricula that have been proposed and/or taught by various teachers, at various educational levels, in various institutions. To the newcomer to the subject, this diversity is confusing and intimidating. There seems to be no accepted way of going about it, no established curriculum for the teacher to fall back on when inspiration fails.

For the self-confident educational innovator, this diversity is welcome. There is a wealth of opportunity in such a theme, rich in topics and in educational styles. The STS theme has something for everybody, from pedantry to fantasy, from austere abstraction to opulent reality, from aloof analysis to committed concern. It draws on philosophical, sociological, psychological and historical disciplines, as well as all the sciences and technologies. It can be concentrated on cognitive questions, on political issues, on technical capabilities, or on moral judgements.

Hierarchies of representation and rigour

Science derives its practical power and authority from the rigour of its arguments and the hardness of its facts. Science education must transmit these qualities. It is not enough to be more or less acquainted with a scientific idea; to understand its meaning, or to use it correctly, one must grasp it firmly and wield it boldly. Everyone knows that science is ‘hard’ to learn; the metaphor should remind us that it also needs to be hard and sharp at the edge where it is to shape our thoughts and the world about us.

This hardness and sharpness are not superficial. The encyclopaedias and data compilations are, of course, full of ‘hard facts’, like the chemical formula for aspirin, or the spectrum of the light from Betelgeuse or the number of hairs on the abdomen of a particular variety of fruit fly. These are of no more importance, in themselves, than such historical hard facts as the date of the execution of Anne Boleyn or the Russian order of battle at Borodino. The peculiar strength of scientific knowledge is that a great many of the known facts have been organized into deeply structured patterns, from which many unknown events can be confidently inferred. History, too, has its regularities, from which much can be learnt, but there is nothing in the humanities to match the distinct categories, unavoidable necessities and reliable predictions of a well-established scientific discipline.