Skip to main content

Speculation and science

My latest book, Interstellar Tours, is set on a tour starship of the twenty-second century. Clearly the context is fictional, to give what can sometimes seem the rather remote sciences of astrophysics and cosmology a more hands-on feel. But the science itself is based on our best current knowledge. This does, however, raise a wider question - how to deal with the relationship between speculation and science.

Given that the book is set in the future, I have to occasionally speculate about how our scientific knowledge will progress. As much as possible, I describe phenomena as we believe them to be now, but inevitably there are some circumstances where things are currently uncertain and I need to come down on one side or another. So, for example, despite visiting many planets, in my future life has yet to be discovered for certain beyond our solar system. To make sure readers don't confuse my speculation with 'real science' I have a number of speculation alerts - boxes that highlight what was not known in the 2020s.

If I'm honest, as I wrote about recently, I am not usually a great fan of speculative science. Infamously, speculation used to be at the heart of cosmology, to the extent there was a saying (with many variants) doing the rounds): 'There's speculation, then there's wild speculation, then there's cosmology.' It's fair to say that cosmology has settled down a bit, but there is still a lot of effort being put into various topics where there is little or no real evidence to date.

Speculative science is not, of course, limited to cosmology. In quantum physics, for example, while the outcomes are described and predicted with stunning accuracy, the many interpretations that attempt to show what is going on 'underneath' are currently pure speculation. Some people love this kind of thing - I find it, dare I say it, boring. Until there's some evidence to make one interpretation stand out, I really don't care. I'm not saying people shouldn't work on this kind of science. It's only by doing so that we can move our understanding beyond speculation, at least with speculation where there is some chance of ever realistically getting proper data to identify what is correct. But in some circumstances we probably never will - and even if there may eventually be evidence, while it remains speculative, I find it a bit of a yawn.

Out in space, without the benefit of experiment (yet), speculation will always rear its head. Whether it's black hole firewalls or the book by Rovelli I have sitting on the shelf yet to read on white holes, speculation is going to be rampant. And science writers need to write about it. But, for me, it dominates coverage too much in physics, cosmology and related fields. New Scientist, for example, hardly ever seems to have a lead physics story that isn't highly speculative.

It might seem hypocritical, then, to put my own speculation into Interstellar Tours - but it was necessary for the format of the book. And it is a very minor part. One aspect of speculation where I do enjoy stirring things a bit is over dark matter, where I am reasonably convinced that something based on modified Newtonian gravity (MOND) will partly or wholly supplant the existence of dark matter as a new kind of particle. I was delighted when esteemed science writer John Gribbin read the book that he commented 'The conclusions re. dark matter vs MOND are very bold and will intrigue people!' - my answer was 'I know!' 

So it's not that I don't appreciate the importance of speculation (especially when I think it's right) - but at least this speculation is based on a lot of evidence (see the excellent blog Triton Station for details). It doesn't stop me feeling, though, that speculation in science needs very careful management in the way that it is communicated. And that often isn't the case.

Image by Adrien Converse from Unsplash

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Art of Uncertainty - David Spiegelhalter *****

There's something odd about this chunky book on probability - the title doesn't mention the P word at all. This is because David Spiegelhalter (Professor Sir David to give him his full title) has what some mathematicians would consider a controversial viewpoint. As he puts it 'all probabilities are judgements expressing personal uncertainty.' He strongly (and convincingly) argues that while the mathematical approach to probability is about concrete, factual values, outside of the 'natural' probabilities behind quantum effects, almost all real world probability is a subjective experience, better described by more subjective terms like uncertainty, chance and luck. A classic way to distinguish between those taking the frequentist approach to probability and the Bayesian approach is their attitude to what the probability is of a fair coin coming up heads or tails after the coin has been tossed but before we have looked at it. The frequentist would say it's def

Everything is Predictable - Tom Chivers *****

There's a stereotype of computer users: Mac users are creative and cool, while PC users are businesslike and unimaginative. Less well-known is that the world of statistics has an equivalent division. Bayesians are the Mac users of the stats world, where frequentists are the PC people. This book sets out to show why Bayesians are not just cool, but also mostly right. Tom Chivers does an excellent job of giving us some historical background, then dives into two key aspects of the use of statistics. These are in science, where the standard approach is frequentist and Bayes only creeps into a few specific applications, such as the accuracy of medical tests, and in decision theory where Bayes is dominant. If this all sounds very dry and unexciting, it's quite the reverse. I admit, I love probability and statistics, and I am something of a closet Bayesian*), but Chivers' light and entertaining style means that what could have been the mathematical equivalent of debating angels on

Math for English Majors - Ben Orlin *****

Ben Orlin makes the interesting observation that the majority of people give up on understanding maths at some point, from fractions or algebra all the way through to tensors. At that stage they either give up entirely or operate the maths mechanically without understanding what they are doing. In this light-hearted take, Orlin does a great job of taking on mathematical processes a step at a time, in part making parallels with the structure of language. Many popular maths books shy away from the actual mathematical representations, going instead for verbal approximations. Orlin doesn't do this, but makes use of those linguistic similes and different ways of looking at the processes involved to help understanding. He also includes self-admittedly awful (but entertaining) drawings and stories from his experience as a long-time maths teacher. To make those parallels, Orlin refers to numbers as nouns, operations as verbs (though he points out that there are some flaws in this simile) a