One day, a foreigner presented an elephant to a king. The elephant, an exotic animal in this kingdom, had never been seen before. The king called several blind men to his palace and asked them what the elephant looked like after they touched it. The blind man who had touched the leg said: “Oh, Your Majesty, it is like a pillar.” Another blind man, who had touched the ear, said: “Oh, Your Majesty, it is like a big leaf.” The king and his ministers laughed at their answers.
The situation in basic scientific research is sometimes quite like this famous tale, or even worse. To clarify, basic scientific research refers to fundamental exploration to pursue the knowledge of reality and truth, as opposed to applied science and technology. Returning to the tale, it is misguided to dismiss the blind men. They were serious, intelligent, and selflessly honest. Given their experiences and hypotheses, their explanations were as accurate as they could be. Exactly the same can be said for the earnest labors of countless scientists throughout history and for those operating today in any area of basic scientific research.
To elaborate, let us revisit the tale from a slightly different viewpoint. The intent is to provide an insight into the realities of basic scientific research, thereby conveying a sense of its inherent difficulties. Furthermore, this tale also serves to illustrate why these challenges are particularly prominent for research probing the frontiers of scientific understanding.
Let us first suppose a world where all people were blind, as were all of their ancestors. This world’s level of intellectual advancement is similar to ours. As in our world, there are many gifted scientists who tirelessly pursue truth and knowledge.
Meanwhile, let us suppose that the elephant in their world is significantly larger than those of our world, say as big as a large building, or even a hill. At this world’s first encounter with an elephant, it naturally became the focal point of contemporary scientific research.
Let us suppose that three outstanding research groups, whose leaders were Professor A, Professor B, and Professor C, spearheaded this scientific endeavor. Being specialists in different fields of professional knowledge, they studied the same elephant from different perspectives. Consequently, they proposed different models, hypotheses, interpretations, and theories about the nature of this alien manifestation.
The first group, led by Professor A, started its research from the tusk of the elephant. They made careful and precise measurements, performed sophisticated calculations, undertook highly philosophical and rational data analysis, and eventually proposed the subsequently famous Carrot Hypothesis, Carrot Model, or Carrot Theory. That is, they thought the nature of the elephant was akin to a huge carrot. Consequently, they predicted the existence of big leaves on the top of the big carrot. It is possible to imagine their excitement when they touched the ears of the elephant, firmly believing them to be the leaves of the carrot. This development served as a powerful verification of their prediction and provided compelling evidence in support of their brilliant theory. If this world possessed a Nobel Prize, Professor A’s group might be likely candidates to receive the laurels.
Around the same time, Professor B’s group commenced its investigation, starting from a leg of the elephant. Their analysis led them to conclude that the shape of the elephant was similar to the trunk of a large tree. They proposed the Tree Model or Tree Theory. However, they soon encountered another leg. Accordingly, they adapted their theory from the Tree Model to the Forest Model in accordance with these new experimental results. As with the Carrot Theory, the verification supplied by the discovery of the elephant’s third and fourth legs generated much excitement.
Professor C was the brilliant former protégé of Professor B, and the team further developed Professor B’s research. After careful and precise measurements of the four trunk-like pillars and their surroundings, they found that there were only four pillars—not more. Also, these four pillars were somehow arranged according to the four corners of a rectangle. Furthermore, they discovered that the temperature within this rectangle was consistently lower than that of the surrounding areas. Consequently, between the four pillars was something that isolated the region from the heat of the sky (they did not refer to sun in the sky because they had never seen it). In accordance with this new evidence, they proposed Table Theory as an improvement and development of Forest Theory.
In order to verify the new Table Theory, they constructed a technologically advanced instrument—an extraordinarily long ladder. It is easy to envision their sense of elation upon reaching the underside of the elephant’s torso. From their perspective they had discovered the huge table, thereby obtaining compelling evidence verifying the prediction of Table Theory.
Naturally, as their world’s science continued to develop, they would discover that all these theories were only “special theories,” valid within special areas and situations. Finally, after many academic conferences, seminars, discussions, controversies, disputes, possibly even quarrels and conflicts, they might, if they were lucky, establish a “general theory” or “unified theory.” This would include all the existing special theories that were supported with reproducible experimental evidence. At this point, they might be able to comprehend what the elephant looked like, in a manner consistent with what we would perceive at first glance.
Eventually, once this ultimate authorized unified theory was well established in their education system, coming generations in their world would no longer be puzzled about the appearance of the elephant. They could dutifully study the theory and subsequently impart the knowledge to others in the manner of an authority on science.
However, it is useful to expand on the meaning of the statement “if they were lucky.” In the case of the story, it means if the elephant was not too big. Consider the situation if the elephant was as big as our earth, our solar system, or our galaxy. What would the future hold for these scientists? How could they approach a unified and final theory?
This point serves to illustrate how misguided it is to try to establish a final theory for an infinite object, such as our universe, or even to establish a unified and final theory of physics.
In many cases the situation facing basic scientific research is even more challenging than that confronting the blind scientists studying an elephant. In fact, the challenge confronting this avenue of research is more akin to “Blind People Study a Rainbow” and “Deaf People Study Music.” In addition to being invisible and inaudible, the object of our research is dynamic.
To illustrate, let us continue our thought experiment in the world of the blind. Moving forward from their elephant conundrum, let us explore how their scientists would become aware of and study the colorful world around them. Would their scientific development ever extend to discovering the invisible and untouchable rainbow?
This experiment has supposed a world where every person is blind, as were all preceding generations of people. Therefore, in this world, there are no such words as red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple to describe colors. There are not even words like light, bright, dark, or other words relating to vision. This world is home to many highly capable scientists. Given this, let us present a couple of questions for discussion.
The first question arises in comparison to a property of our everyday world that is abundantly clear to us. “Is it possible for their scientists to discover that their world is colorful?” If this is possible, the next question should be, “How would these scientists go about describing the beauty of this discovery to the blind inhabitants of their world?” How does one achieve this without the existence of words related to color and light? This is the greatest challenge in writing this book.
In my opinion, the blind people would eventually discern that their world is not completely dark, but full of light and beautiful colors. An analogy can be drawn to the way that we now comprehend the existence of imperceptible ultraviolet rays, microwaves, and radio waves. The seemingly simple task of appreciating their colorful world would pose an extreme challenge. Only the most eminent philosophers and scientists, building on many years of exceedingly hard work and abstract reasoning, could approximately approach it.
Their journey of discovery might begin with the observation that the temperature on the south wall is usually higher than that on the north wall (assuming they were living in the northern hemisphere of their world). Similarly, it might occur to them that in the morning, when they notice their environment regularly gets warmer, the east-facing wall is usually warmer than the one facing west. Correspondingly, the arrival of the afternoon, when temperatures regularly declined, would be associated with exactly the opposite phenomenon.
They would also find that these temperature discrepancies exhibited some correlation with the weather. The disparity would disappear whenever it was raining. However, the variation would not always accompany the absence of rain: the inhabitants of this world would not be able to tell whether the sky was clear or cloudy. Furthermore, whenever this difference occurred, they would also feel the temperature contrast on their skin. It would come to their attention that all these effects existed only outdoors. Evidently, when indoors, the roof and walls could effectively block some unknown factor or sensation propagation. This could also be described as “Qi,” “vital energy,” or any other term their people chose to use. (Qi is central to Classical Chinese Medicine and martial arts; its meaning can be approximated by the idea of “life force” or “energy.”)
In addition to subjective sensations and objective temperature measurements, careful observations of the behavior of animals and plants would lead them to infer that something existed that was unknown to them. Each passing year would foster a growing awareness of “something” existing in their world that was beyond both the scope of the senses and the range of their language.
Their scientists, like ours, would prefer objective instrumental measurements to subjective feelings. This inclination would lead to the development of many precise instruments to quantitatively detect and measure this unknown factor. Subsequently, other scientists, specializing in theoretical work, would delve into the freshly accumulated experimental data and experience and propose various models, hypotheses, theories, and mathematical formulas. Further experiments would then be designed and conducted to test these theoretical proposals with the results, verifying some and refuting others. Consequently, some theories would be discarded, some improved, and some would be merged into more general theories.
Depending on their rate of progress, this process of scientific exploration would continue for dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of years. Finally, after much thought, discussion, and controversy, their scientists would finally recognize the existence of the electromagnetic wave.1 At this point, they would have developed instruments that enabled precise, large-scale measurement of these waves. A multitude of subsequent measurements in many different places would provide a wealth of data about the strength of the various electromagnetic waves according to their wavelengths. Finally, after extensive complex mathematical analysis, scientists would realize that their world was very “colorful.”
This discovery might inspire the creation of a cumbersome textbook abounding with complex experimental data and esoteric mathematical formulas. Consequently, only the most devoted physics students would be able to learn and comprehend this knowledge. Some scientists, having gained an appreciation of this beautiful realm, would feel obliged to attempt to write popular science books to convey a sense of it to the public. This would be challenging, as they would have to avoid mathematical language and minimize terminology while maintaining an engaging style. However, their greatest challenge would be describing the colorful world without access to language relating to color and light.
To achieve this, they might employ metaphors to help the blind layperson imagine, conceive, and to some extent even perceive this unseen world. They would also have to invent special new words, like atom, electron, and quark in our world, to describe these imperceptible phenomena. If they happened to invent the word light to describe the electromagnetic waves between 400 and 700 nanometers2 and used the same words we use for colors to describe the appropriate wavelengths of visible light,3 their recognition of the colorful world would begin to resemble an exceedingly simplified abstraction of our experience.
Evidently, this is a highly contrived scenario. However, we must face the fact that we are all blind people to most electromagnetic waves—those beyond the very narrow range of 400 to 700 nanometers. We must also concede that we are all deaf people to most mechanical (sound) waves beyond the narrow range of 20 to 20,000 hertz. In fact, the story of how physicists in our world came to recognize the invisible atom and the invisible radio wave bears remarkable resemblance to the stories of “Blind People Study a Rainbow” and “Deaf People Study Music.”
Aside from the challenge posed by language, we also struggle with many other limitations, such as our sensory systems and thinking ability. To illustrate how scientific research is inhibited by these and other often unconsidered limitations, let us continue developing the thought experiment in the world of blind people.
Suppose a blind person, by chance, came across a mouse. As the nimble, highly intelligent mice that inhabit this world had never been detected before, it was a somewhat traumatizing experience. Naturally, he would share the experience and attempt to convey the horrible sensation to his friends. He would also be quite eager to present the novel animal to them. However, the likelihood of being able to do so would be exceedingly small. In terms of modern science, the reproducibility of the experiment is very unlikely.
If sharing his experience ensued as expected—without the presentation of any mice—how would his friends react? At best, they might conclude that he had confused a nightmare with reality. Some of them might even question their friend’s honesty and accuse him of playing a joke or even telling tall tales. It is probable that the unfortunate person would be unable to show any scientific evidence to verify the claim.
He might persevere until one day he invented some new technology capable of catching the mouse with certainty. Considering the high intelligence of the mice, this difficult task might take decades or even centuries. Perhaps fate would be slightly kinder. Other blind people might have experienced a similar startling event and proceeded to tell similar stories. However, no one would be able to produce any objective experimental evidence. The accumulated stories might attract the attention of some scientists who were open to new phenomena, leading them to consider the possibility that these stories alluded to something beyond current scientific understanding. A few would risk their reputations, and possibly even their jobs, by investing in daring, unsuccessful attempts to catch the animal. As this exploration proceeded, the objective existence of the alien animal, namely the mouse, would become an unresolved question in the world of blind people.
After decades or even centuries of exploration, including many careers blighted by failure as well as some successful endeavors, the technology for catching mice would be successfully developed. Possibly representing a relative level of technology akin to the huge particle accelerators in California and Geneva, this equipment would allow anyone in their world to touch mice at will. In other words, the experiment would be objective, have excellent reproducibility, and be a science success story. The experiment’s success would oblige the mainstream population to accept the existence of mice. At this point, the existence of mice would progress from being a fantasy to being a topic of conventional study.
This story serves to illustrate that the acceptance of something in the scientific community is not necessarily based on reality; instead, it is a function of belief. More precisely, scientific acceptance is based on the belief of the majority and is thus ascribed with all the inherent advantages and disadvantages of a democratic system.