An ethnography of the Bloomberg Physics Building at Johns Hopkins University

Steve Mizrach

INTRODUCTION: Why should science be investigated?

In recent years, the so-called 'sociology of knowledge' and/or 'cognitive anthropology' approach to the history and philosophy of science has come to predominate over the earlier 1950s approach which was couched in terms like the 'history of ideas.' Not only have sociologists and anthropologists begun to examine science as one form of the social construction of knowledge; even historians of science have utilized this method. The goal of these investigations has not been to demonstrate the irrationality of science, as some critics have claimed; rather it has been an attempt to investigate the claim that science has a privileged status in society. In Marxist analysis, for example, while almost all other social forms (art, religion, etc.) are ideological (i.e. pertain to the 'superstructure'), science is claimed to be free of ideology or social determination by virtue of its direct connection to the 'base' or material factuality of the world. Thus, in some ways, the investigation of science is a project of demystification, or if you want, deconstruction, of privileged knowledge[1].

When sociologists of knowledge observe the 'victory' of one idea over another, whether in science or in politics, they ask questions like: whose interests are served, what ideological values or social currents are expressed, and what types of knowledge are simultaneously invalidated? Largely, the originator of this method was Robert K. Merton. While current sociologists of science such as Paul Feyerabend and Steven Woolgar have taken a more relativist and constructivist position than Merton, many of Merton's initial questions and probings of science provide the basis for the field[2]. One of Merton's central questions was: why did science as we know it today largely originate in northern Europe? (in the terms of an institutionalized apparatus for the generation of knowledge of nature - all cultures have had their 'ethnosciences,' but the so-called "scientific revolution" did take place largely in those countries in the 17th and 18th centuries.) What connections were there to capitalism, the industrial revolution, and the Protestant ethic, as well as the burgeoning growth of urbanism and the colonial enterprise[3]?

The Mertonian Norms of Science

One of the important factors in the formation of any institutionalized profession is the formation of norms. Such norm development is sometimes explicitly codified - as in the case of the Hippocratic Oath of professional medicine - but usually it is implicit and develops as a kind of unprofessed code. By the 'norms' of science, Merton was not referring to its methodology, i.e. the 'scientific method', but instead to the unstated behavioral guidelines of the community of scientists[4]. These norms are: universalism (the scientific enterprise is not to be limited by national, racial, ethnic, religious, gender, or credal boundaries, nor should these particulars in any way shape its exercise) , communalism (of intellectual, not material, property - ideas belong to no one, and are to be shared openly and freely with the community of one's peers), disinterestedness (objectivity/impartiality/impersonality - the scientist is supposed to rise above his individual, subjective, and idiosyncratic biases; and be free of personal passions and desires in his work), and organized scepticism (the practice of the critical method - theories must be falsifiable and constantly subjected to criticism and review, and the burden of proof lies in the making of the claim, not in its 'debunking'.) Other commentators in the Mertonian realm have also suggested cumulativity (the scientific enterprise is continually adding to itself - it never goes backwards or revises its assumptions in the way politics or the arts does) and rationality (the consistent use of logically defensible premises.) The last two are controversial - T.S. Kuhn has showed the falsity of the former, Paul Feyerabend the latter[5] - so I will concentrate on the four originally proposed by Merton. In my opinion, the basis for these norms already existed in the cultural process that gave birth to modern science.

HISTORICAL OVERVIEW

The Cultural Meaning of the Scientific Revolution

In the sixteenth century, when science had not been separated from the more general endeavour of 'natural philosophy,' there were two competing philosophies of nature. The 'chymical philosophy,' which was exemplified by figures such as Robert Boyle or Paracelsus, and largely described Nature in organic and fluid terms (many often borrowed from alchemy), utilized a discourse of terms pertaining to the mixing, solution, and recombination of substances. The 'mechanical philosophy', which had as exemplars Descartes and Newton, and derived much of its basis from an intellectual climate of religious Deism (the clockmaker Deity), utilized a discourse which pertained to the operation of machines: a certain mathematical formalism that describes the interaction of unconnected parts set in motion[6]. (The problem that the mechanistic philosphy faces in the 20th century is, as it tries to rid itself of teleological explanations, it is forced to acknowledge that machines are nonetheless almost always built with a purpose in mind.) Most of the assumptions in science today, such as the regularity and universality of natural law, derive from the mechanistic philosophy. The underlying discourse of science today still derives from this model: we search for the 'mechanisms' behind events in Nature much as 17th century scientists looked for the 'hidden Architect' or 'blind watchmaker' who wound up the clockwork world. When the ever-modern Jacques Monod[7] tries to describe the purely mechanical basis of life, he is only recovering ground proposed by the 17th century philosopher La Mettrie in his book, Man: A Machine .

The Victory of the Mechanistic Philosophy

Many of the historians of science have realized the connections between the mechanistic philosophy of the scientific revolution and the ideology of the rising borgeouisie of northern Europe. The mechanistic philosophy expressed a worldview that reflected their interests. The industrial project would not have succeeded without Lord Francis Bacon's assurance of the dominatibility of Nature and the boons it would provide mankind[8]. The Protestant ethic, which Weber shows to be inextricably connected to the 'disenchantment of the world' and the rise of capitalism in the West, emphasized the propriety of parsimony of speech and the equation of hard work and effort with moral perfection. Here also lie the primary criteria for scientific theories: they must not talk too much (i.e. by being simple and elegant and proposing as few theoretical entities as possible) and they must do as much work as possible (i.e. provide the same results over and over again with strict rigor and complete dependability.) The scientific revolution, from a purely pragmatic sense, can be said to have laid the basis for colonialism by providing the tools it needed. But it also provided an ideological justification which cannot be ignored. The feudal system of Europe relied on an increasingly disbelieved theological justification. So the rising bourgeouisie needed a system that could provide the basis for their authority (and would supplant that of the Church, which resisted usury and other things they wanted) and justify their claims to being the most efficient 'managers' of society. If society could be presented in mechanical terms, and the bourgeouisie could claim to have the most mechanical aptitude, then they could justify their rule[9]. The rise of science cannot merely be described as an intellectual awakening of slumbering mankind: this is a product of the Enlightenment episteme . Instead, we must look at the institutionalization of science as a social phenomenon, and explicable via social processes.

Physics as the best exemplar and foil of the mechanistic philosophy

All of the other sciences today, from geology to chemistry to meteorology, utilize the mechanistic discourse. But physics, which dealt with the the most direct aspects of the physical world, such as the motions of bodies through space and the energy flow of physical systems, became the mechanistic science par excellence . Since in the Cartesian view all things extended in space (res extensa ) were physical and material, they could all be described in physical terms: the attempt to describe the category of mental things (res cogitans ) in such terms would not begin until the 19th century, but proceeds apace today in behavioristic psychology. Physics always sought to describe the behavior of the most basic entities of Nature, in the hope that everything more complex can be deduced from their properties[10]. In the 20th century, as physics began to penetrate into the heart of the atom, this reductionist project ran into a terrible snag. The entities of the subatomic world did not obey classical, deterministic, mechanical laws: instead their behavior was statistical, stochastic, and complementary. In short, unlike anything commonsensical to our experience. Simultaneously, as 20th century astronomers looked outward with their new instruments into the cosmos, they found a dynamic place full of similarly mysterious entities - quasars, pulsars, black holes, supernovae - leading Sir James Jeans to declare "the universe seems to be more a great thought than a great machine."[11]

The second scientific revolution: the 20th century paradigm shift

There were two reactions in the scientific world to these new phenomena which defied classical description. One, not surprisingly, was conservative: it can be found in the logical positivism of the Vienna School and the 'ordinary language' philosophy of V.O. Quine. The positivists basically felt that if you could not sense an entity directly or describe its properties precisely through instrumentation, it did not exist. To the positivists, then, anything you could not describe in materially visualizable terms was merely a speculative, mathematical, or theoretical entity: thus quantum electrodynamics was nothing 'real,' only a mathematical trick with no reference to reality[12]. (This position is also occasionally called 'naive realism.') Other conservatives proposed the 'hidden variables' theory which suggested that the non-deterministic behavior of quantum entities was not an intrinsic property: if we could only discover the "hidden variables" then everything could be discussed in purely classical terms[13]. But, by and large, physics abandoned positivism, and two interpretations developed to deal with the curious uncertainty presented by Heisenberg and the ever-paradoxical, living/dead Schrodinger's Cat: the Copenhagen interpretation and the Many-Worlds theory. The Many-Worlds theory suggests that the universe divides everytime an observation is made of a quantum phenomenon, but 'we' are only in one of the branching worlds. The Copenhagen interpretation grants a more important role to subjectivity and suggests the consciousness of the observer collapses the wave function and 'creates' reality - a position of interest to a constructivist theory of knowledge.[14]

The Horns of the Dilemma: What does one do during a revolution?

Interestingly, many physicists working in quantum mechanics today eschew positivism - they acknowledge the physical reality of the objects of study - but do not subscribe to either of these interpretations. The basic principle for them is pragmatism and the hypothetico-deductive method: if we do this, certain things follow, hence certain things exist; even if these things have unrepresentable properties or are unobservable in the ordinary sense[15]. Largely, most physicists act as if they have not emerged from a revolution: the legendary battles of Einstein and Bohr over the quantum theory ("God does not play dice with the universe!") are fait acompli . This is, as one observer has noted, perhaps because "most quantum mechanics are as philosophically inclined as garage mechanics."[16] Most are not concerned with epistemology, and subscribe to what might be called "mediated realism," because they believe themselves to be dealing with 'independent facts of nature' that are 'out there in the world'. Largely, this is also due to the physicists attempting to reduce what the sociologist Leon Festinger calls cognitive dissonance : the state of one's expectations being sharply contrary to the world-as-it-is, much like the prophet who discovers his prediction to be false[17]. They do so by attempting to reduce the 'signal' to 'noise' ratio by working on the puzzles they can solve and leave the ones they can't to others. As T.S. Kuhn suggests, most of the work in 'normal science' is puzzle-solving, and most scientists continue to do 'normal science' even when faced with periods of 'revolutionary' or 'crisis science', since they have not shifted to the new paradigm.

The Rise of Big Science

There is another important historical force behind modern physics. Significantly, this is a counterbalancing and conservative force, and it counteracts the revolutionary implications of the other. That force is the consolidation and institutionalization of science as a result of World War II. Most nation-states began to transfer large portions of their GNP toward scientific R & D, resulting in breakthroughs like radar and the atom bomb. The effective result was that, even in the 'free countries,' the autonomy of science from the State (to the degree it ever existed) was eroded. Largely, this was due to changes in the nature of physics itself: as ever more powerful accelerators and telescopes were needed, so were larger funds which could not be solicited from private sources[18]. Yet, one must also acknowledge that the tension of the Cold War also provoked governments to improve technologies in all areas from surveillance to the Space Race. The government became the premier financier of scientific work, and he who controls the purse pulls the strings... one effective result of World War II was a conflation of the scientific work with the so-called 'military industrial complex.' Labs such as the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory arose out of important military 'search' projects - in their case, the development of the proximity fuse for bombs[19]. Scientists working on such projects learned the importance of secrecy, oversight, and haste. The increasing encroachment of governmental control over science policy and scientific research might be said to be the 20th century 'counterrevolution' in physics which counterbalances the ongoing epistemological revolution. National governments are interested in technological applications, not physical concepts that might be dangerous to their social systems.

METHODOLOGY

Description/Evaluation and the Fact/Value Dichotomy

One of the problems in dealing with the ways scientists describe science, either in statements about it or in their writings, is the whole problem of fact and value. "Science is the most rational human enterprise" seems to be, on the face of it, simply a descriptive statement. There is something called rationality, and science is the field in which it is most used. Period. But unfortunately, this statement is evaluative in nature because the author of that statement expects his audience to concur with the implicit value judgement that rationality is more desirable than irrationality. The statement "this table is made of oak" is merely descriptive because neither its utterer nor the audience has the context as to whether oakness is more or less desirable than, say, the table being made out of teakwood. Many statements used to justify the status or privilege of science are seemingly descriptive, but in actuality evaluative, because they contain implicit assumptions or judgements about normality and potentiality[20]. My position is that statements about any human activity must, by necessity, contain an evaluation: one either admires one or more features of that activity or dislikes one or more features. When science refers to itself, however, it is often in very non-evaluative terms, which are presented as given, objective, and not subject to dissent or debate. Who wants what they do to be thought of as irrational? One might argue, for example, that fields outside of science might express a different type of rationality rather than an absence of rationality. My methodological approach was to look at all statements as being potentially evaluative, hence expressing values and judgements implicit in physics relative to other human endeavours. The scientists largely viewed their speaking as a means of communicating information, of data transfer like their computers, not a rhetorical/persuasive/political cant. By and large, the noun-heavy language of science serves to mask interests and intentions, ambiguities and personality conflicts[21].

Fieldwork Technique

My principal method of data collection was field interviews with physicists in their offices. That was later combined with surveys to assess the sociological composition of the lab and ask more quantitative questions. The amount of direct observation of 'laboratory life' was small to none: much as I would have wanted to become part of the life of the lab, I had other classes to handle at the time I was doing my research. Therefore, I cannot say to any degree what inconsistency there might be between the statements the physicists made about the norms of their community and their 'real-world' behavior, though other sociologists of science have looked to that same inconsistency. Do scientists really obey the so-called four "Mertonian" norms? Or do they break and bend rules all the time to reach their conclusions, as Feyerabend suggests? Is there a sharp dichotomy between principle and praxis? Many of these questions were on my mind, and I did not have the necessary participant-observation time to deal with them appopriately. I am therefore forced to take my interviewees' remarks at face value, i.e. assume they at least correspond to what they believe to be the truth , if not the truth itself, about their community.

Reflexive Aspects of the Investigation

Many sociologists of science have anguished over the reflexivity of their activity. If sociology is (or wishes to be) a science, and scientific knowledge is not objective or value-free, then sociology cannot make pretense to objectivity through seeking to become more 'scientific.' Some sociologists feel that sociology is principally 'humanistic,' belonging to a different cognitive domain than science. Yet, few sociologists would wish to claim that sociology is somehow a less rational or empirical an activity than science[22]. Many working in the sociology of knowledge have decided that there is nothing to be gained in imitation of the scientific method, and are unafraid to ask questions which seek to reinforce or reflect existing concepts that they already have: the heresy of making facts fit theories. (which is what they claim science 'really' does anyway.) As a cognitive anthropologist, I approached physics as a cognitive activity; even one of many possible cognitive activities. In essence, while I potentially shaped the physicists' discourse about their activity through some pre-existing notions I was interested in investigating, I allowed the discourse as much free rein as possible. At this point, I will be explicit: I made no pretense to absolute objectivity, because there were certain things about physics I was interested in probing, and other aspects I deliberately chose to ignore. This was in part due to time limitations. But what might be called unfairly 'subjective' factors were involved as well: in particular, I was very incensed at the scientific discourse which declared scientific research to be culture-free and not socially determined.

The Nature of the Questioning

Broadly speaking, there were three basic areas of investigation. First, I was interested in what I might term the 'macrosociological' dimensions of physics: how does physics establish itself in the hierarchy of professions? How did it see itself in relation to other cognitive endeavours? What 'large-scale' sociopolitical forces "transmitted" themselves from the society-as-a-whole to the physics community? Conversely, what influences did the concepts of physics "transmit" to the social world and societal discourse? Second, I wished to look at the 'microsociological' dimensions of the physics community-as-a-whole, considered as a domain. How did conflict, prestige, credit, reputation, motivation and hierarchal decision-making manifest within the community of physicists? What social processes were involved in knowledge formation? What were the guiding norms of physics, and were they the ones that Merton suggested were particular to science? How did the physics community organize itself? Lastly, I was interested in certain 'ethnological' or 'micro-micro-sociological' questions. What features of the spatial, social, and temporal organization of Bloomberg were significant in an ideological sense? What was the interrelations of the lab with other facilities on campus, such as the Space Telescope Institute or Applied Physics Lab? Was there anything unique about the sociological composition of the lab vis-a-vis gender, ethnic makeup, etc.?

PART I: ETHNOLOGICAL ASPECTS OF THE STUDY

Bloomberg as a Case Study of a Physics Laboratory

The physical organization of the Bloomberg Physics Building seems to give expression to the scientific norm of openness. Any part of the building is accessible from any other part, with few exceptions. Almost all the physicists, when they are in their offices, keep their doors open, in anticipation of the arrival of colleagues and peers. During the day, all the labs (with all of their expensive equipment and computers!) are kept open, even when they are not in use. Even when most of the physicists have gone home, the lights in the building stay on, and much of the building stays open, largely because the Schaefler Auditorium is used by so many Continuing Studies courses. The divisions of the building seem to be more based on professional interest than hierarchy: the 1st floor is for space science and astrophysics, the 2nd for nuclear and solid-state physics, the 3rd for graduate students and administrative offices, the 4th for condensed-matter physics, the 5th appears to be mostly assorted experimentalists, and the 6th floor is for the particle/high-energy physics. But I could not help but wonder: why are the high-energy physicists on top ? Their presence on the highest floor of the building may signify nothing... but it does seem to suggest otherwise. One of the most important features of the physics building is the striking sculpture on the ground floor: it is both cerebrum and mushroom cloud at the same time. It seems to say: the atom bomb comes forth from the mind of the scientist, that you could not have one without the other - the price of genius is risk, that from the mind of the physicist comes both the atomic explosion (his parthenogenic, Zeus-like child) and all the other wonders around you.

Temporal Organization of the Laboratory

Banal as it might be to say, the lab seems to be structured around the same five-day workweek as other facilities on campus. The physicists come in around nine or so, teach their classses, have lunch, and do their daily work, and leave around five or so. Of course, only one aspect of the activity of the lab ceases at five: when the scientists stop fiddling with their gadgets and doodling equations, then out come the janitors for a few hours to clean offices and sweep the building, with curious clockwork regularity. They treat the equipment of the scientists with almost religious respect. I asked one janitor if he ever touched one bank of instruments, and he replied, "Nah, I don't go near the stuff, I'm afraid I'd break it." One important temporal structuring pattern comes from the infrequent colloquia and symposiums that are held throughout the year. Those that are aimed at the specialized physics community usually are held around four in the afternoon; those presented for a more general audience (such as the latest set of pictures from the Hubble Telescope) are held at eight in the evening. Attendance for these events is often large, though they are not mandatory. "Beamtime" is not a real concern for the lab per se, as there are no accelerators or other 'Big Science' large-scale equipment present. But the temporal life of the physicists is centered around travel: they are always leaving to go do an experiment at an acclerator somewhere else, or to attend this or that international conference, or participate in a reading of papers. It is a reality of the schedule of the lab that a large number of its residents at any given time will not be present. The pace of the physicists is fast; appointments are hard to make and schedules are frequently limited by time constraints. Few physicists ever really seem to dawdle or tarry - even theorists seem to scribble on their boards with a furious speed rather than at a dreamy, contemplative rate.

Social Organization of the Lab

Consonant with the Mertonian norm of universalism, the physicists of the lab do everything they can to play down difference. They all dress in such a way as to deny differing social status or background. One sees very few dressed in suit and tie. 'Incidental' differences such as ethnicity, religion, nationality, and gender seem to be downplayed by an egalitarian spirit. Nobody, not even the Department Chair, gets a bigger office. There are no perks and privileges: everybody gets their mail in the same place and uses the same photocopier in the office. Much about Bloomberg seems to reinforce the notion that science transcends frontiers and barriers. The names on the mailboxes, Eastern European, Japanese, and 'Hispanic,' certainly suggest that "physics is the most complete model of humanity without national or territorial boundaries." Where there are separations within the lab, it seems to be on the basis of division of labor. Experimentalist and theorists, while operating in different spheres, are often in offices next to each other. The only basis for hierarchy appears to be on the basis of educational credentials. The PhDs seem to be given a great deal of deference and respect, more than those with a Master's degree. Graduate students are forced to share offices with one or more colleagues and they appear to be more physically concentrated than others in the lab. Undergraduates are not even extended the privilege of residence: they are temporary transitors, who come for their classes, talk to their TAs, and then leave. Some, working on projects for independent study, do become a more integral part of life in the lab, but they still know that "they are not low man on the totem pole, they are the dirt under the pole," and frequently do the more menial, tedious tasks.

Semiotic Organization of the Lab

Most of the lab is painted in a clinical, asceptic white, alternating with some soft grays. The neutrality of color cannot help but reinforce in the mind of the observer the all-too important disinteredness and dispassionateness of science. Many scientists keep various items on their door, ranging from newspaper clippings to cartoons to small diagrams. Most of these are for passerby to look at and laugh, to suggest that physicists are not dour and are readily able to laugh at themselves: in short, that physics does not take itself very seriously. Unlike the offerings on doors in other departments, few of these items are very political, and even fewer are personal. Some make some very bold claims in an implicit, surreptitious way. One door poster had a diagram with a picture of two neurons touching, and in the space where the dendrites met the adjacent axon was a caption which said "consciousness." The implication is that thought, language, and the other things which make us human are merely gaps in the relentless search-beam of science, and that in due time physics will fill even those in. Others poke fun at creationism, pseudoscience, and other taboos and anathemas of the physics community, sometimes in an almost mean-spirited way. One thing that an outside observer in Bloomberg cannot help but notice is the absence of signs to indicate directions or the locations of places in the building. The implication seems to be, "if you don't know where you're going, why are you here?" While Bloomberg is very open to those inside of it, its imposing edifice almost seems threatening and unwelcome to outsiders to its hallowed halls of knowledge. This, plus its location on campus, seems to keep traffic to a minimum; unlike when I was in other buildings such as Levering, I rarely encountered any individuals who didn't have a 'reason' to already be there. Few people wandered the halls with the sort of aimlessness that was characteristic of my explorations: they always had a definite destination.

PART II: MACROSOCIOLOGY OF PHYSICS WITHIN THE WORLD SYSTEM

Physics and Society: A Global Question

When I ask about the interrelations of physics with society, the question refers to more than just 'this' society, our ever-Eurocentric/Western/Logocentric culture. Because physics is now a global affair, as my respondents asserted, it is transnational - thus it interacts with societies of all kinds. (This is, they suggest, is because it utilizes a 'universal' language, mathematics, which does not require translation, and whose meanings are context-free: 2+2 is "4" in both Canada and Nepal.) There are physicists in almost every country of the world, although European, North American, and Asian physicists seem to dominate the field. Nonetheless, the fact that a phenomenon is global does not escape the particularities of its origin. Many of my respondents were inclined to think that modern science might be distinctly different if its institutionalization had taken place in another part of the world than northern Europe - China, say, or the Middle East, both of which had very complex ethnosciences. And most also agreed that despite the universality of science, its practice might be shaped by the national cultures who adopted it. But the physicists almost always insisted that this was a modification of practice, not a change of content, assumptions, norms, or boundary conditions: Chinese or Egyptian physics would still reach the same conclusions about the nature of the world as, say, American physics. If they reached different conclusions (for example, about the validity of acupuncture) it was due to a diversion from the scientific method, not an alteration of its cultural assumptions or norm structure.

The Place of Physics in the Hierarchy of the World System

Only one survey respondent assented to the statement "science produces more practical value for society than the humanities." And only one survey respondent agreed to the statement that "the humanities could benefit from being more scientific," although they also indicated as well that "science could learn some things from the humanities." The purpose of this question was to establish the status ranking of science in relation to other cognitive endeavours, loosely lumped under the categorical term 'humanities': i.e. the arts, politics, religion, philosophy, sports, etc. In my opinion, the very fact that C.P. Snow and other authors make this distinction, that there are a set of endeavours which are 'humanistic', and that there is another, which is not, suggests many presuppositions: such as that the ultimate purpose of science is not to contribute to humanity, but merely to accumulate knowledge without any anthropocentric factors[23]. The fact that the physicists did not attribute a higher status ranking to science than other cognitive activities is very telling, but there are many reasons to believe that this is a result of the shaking of faith in science that has come from the technological horrors of the past forty years. Certainly, in the 1930s when C.P. Snow formulated his essay on the 'Two Cultures,' there was a definite climate of opinion that attributed more value and validity to science than to the humanities. The reasons for the erosion of this status judgement are outside the scope of this paper.

What was perhaps of greater interest was the status ranking that physicists gave to physics in the hierarchy of science specializations. It is a well-known social fact that practicioners of a subdiscipline attempt to claim that they exemplify more traits of the discipline than other subdisciplines. Hence, the Navy tries to claim better military discipline than the Army; football claims to be more of a 'real sport' than tennis; and general physicians try to signify the fact that podiatrists or osteopaths "don't practice medicine" by denying them access to a medical degree. The survey attempted to examine a preconception I located in other texts: the declared superiority of the 'hard' sciences such as physics and chemistry over the 'soft' sciences such as psychology and ecology. The 'hard' sciences are said to be more rigorous and produce more well-defined, mathematically formulable results: and as a result, many of the 'soft' sciences have tried to rectify their lower status ranking by emulating the 'hard' sciences through greater use of quantificative over qualitative methods. Moreover, in many physics textbooks, physics is declared to be the 'king' of the hard sciences, because it best exemplifies their character. The gendering of these terms is also interesting to the anthropological observer: the 'hardheaded' masculine contrasted to the 'soft-touch' feminine.

In response to the survey, two physicists agreed to the statement "physics is the most exact and rigorous of sciences." But three agreed to the statement "physics is the foundation of all other sciences because ultimately all phenomena are physical phenomena." Two assented to the fact that "physics is at a stage where it tools, methodology, and discourse are more developed." Surprisingly, two agreed to the assertion "Physics is no more important than any other science." Of those two, one described his reputation in the physics community as "High," while another described it as "Other." This indicates a diversity of positions regarding the status ranking of physics in the Bloomberg building. However, one might note an interesting, if tenuous, connection, in the fact that both physicists asserting to the clear superiority of physics described their reputation as "High." Advancement in a field is connected in many areas to being a 'team player,' and part of team spirit is believing that 'we're#1.' Of course, one problem in this area is the seriousness of held beliefs. Many individuals may assert jocularly their superiority to other individuals without attempting to demonstrate it, as in the case of the Eskimo song duel or any "insult battle" in an elementary schoolyard. Since jocularity is an important factor in the social life of the Bloomberg Building, this factor cannot be ruled out. As Gilbert and Mulkay note[24], scientific jokes can be highly complex, and physicists often use cartoons and jokes as means of argumentation.

The Impact of Physics on Society

There are notable examples of ways in which social movements or belief systems arose from scientific concepts. Social Darwinism, as exemplified by Herbert Spencer, attempted to derive economic and social principles from the natural selection of Darwinian biology. In many cases, these have been dismissed as a result of the "naturalistic fallacy," i.e. that we can decide human ethics from behavior in the animal kingdom or social principles from natural law[25]. Nonetheless, it is certainly an ongoing endeavor in science to locate human action in natural law, and such determinism is the organizing principle of behaviorist psychology or artificial intelligence research. So, it is not unreasonable to expect that, with the validity attached to science, that social movements will utilize the language and appearance of science (if not science itself) to gain authority and appeal[26]. Such examples of scientism might include Lysenkoism in the Soviet Union, or population control movements in the United States.

Most of the physicists felt that there was a definite vulnerability on the part of fields like biology to be utilized in this way, "because biology deals with human nature." But, as physics deals with nonhuman entities, and human entities are of a different order of complexity from these nonhuman entities, physics "should be unable to be used this way." Certainly, even if the physicists deny this influence, there are individuals who have claimed to see it at work. Nazi scientists claimed that Einsteinian relativity theory encouraged moral relativism, i.e. permisiveness and 'degeneracy', because it denied the possibility of absolute standards of reference. The counterculture of the 1960s eagerly embraced quantum mechanics and attempted to connect it to Eastern philosophy and mysticism. And some have already begun to use catastrope theory/ chaos theory - more properly, nonlinear dynamics, originally devised for nonlinear physical systems - in the fields of neurology, economics, and political science, while in popular culture chaos theory has been taken to mean the impossibility of predicting anything, least of all political outcomes[27]. Most of the physicists agreed to the possibility of physical laws being used to draw conclusions in the social realm, but felt that this usage of physical concepts was fundamentally invalid.

The one area in which the physicists felt that physics had the greatest impact on society was technology . No one can possibly argue against the fact that physics has revolutionized the technologies of communication, information storage, transportation, and other areas, or the fact that these technological revolutions have radically transformed modern culture. However, almost all the physicists pointed to their greatest breakthrough, and their enfant terrible , the Bomb. Atomic weaponry has transformed the waging of war, international relations, and the basic psychology of the human race: since 1945, for the first time, humanity has held the power to destroy the world. Robert Jungk and others have pointed to this psychological climate as creating a feeling of powerlessness, fatalism, and helplessness in many societies[28]. Certainly, the one country to suffer an atomic detonation, Japan, has been galvanized by the experience socially, economically, and culturally; and curiously enough, while it is a self-declared Nuclear Weapon Free Zone, it is also a world leader in nuclear physics. The development of atomic weaponry resulted in a true internationalism among the physics community for the first time, resulting in the formation of the International Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists; the international control of atomic energy (while never achieved) was one of the main impetuses in the formation of the United Nations. Some political scientists feel that without the Bomb, many nations might never have agreed to the sacrifice of self-determination needed for international governance. In this way, perhaps more than any other, physics has united the globe.

Sociocultural Influences on Physics

The physics community has generally vehemently denied the influence of cultural factors on physics. Generally, this denial indicates their fear of the norms of disinterestedness and universalism being violated. Most American physicists see the autonomy of science from social pressures and the will of the State as being axiomatic and necessary. My respondents generally agreed that this autonomy was violated in "totalitarian" states, and also generally had dire consequences for the independence and impartiality of scientific research. Society could and should benefit from "applied science," with the end product of technology for social melioration, they said, but the social sphere of "pure science," science-for-its-own-sake and the production of objective knowledge, should be left alone. "Pure science" should discover the facts of nature, then "applied science" can work on their refinement and application for technological needs. Curiously, this separation is often hard to make. "Pure science" gained in prestige and respectability largely due to the successes of "applied science" during World War II, and national governments began to take a larger role in both; projects in "applied science" such as the Apollo Project often produce serendipitous "pure science" breakthroughs; and "pure science" often produces direct economic benefit in the future, as the Byatt-Cohen formulation attempts to demonstrate[29].

The physicists did point out that one way in which the State controls scientific research is through funding of programs. Many notable scientific areas where such funding has decreased recently in the U.S. are victims of political pressure, such as contraceptive testing, fetal tissue research, and alternative energy programs. "Big Science," they said, with its massive particle accelerators and capital-intensive instruments, could never be wholly privately financed: only the State can provide the levels of funding necessary. However, many physicists described the ongoing "battle" they are having with the government over the building of a new particle accelerator, the Superconducting Supercollider, which will provide higher energies (GeVs) than any previous instrument. Their point of view is that without this accelerator, particle physics cannot solve many of its most pressing problems, but the legislators always reply with "With all this hunger, homelessness, recession, and debt, why should we finance such a multibillion dollar project?" The physicists, in turn, as ad hoc lobbyists, counter that it is not a "boondoggle" like the Space Station project, and try to suggest ways in which the facility will improve tourism and jobs. They know that this is not the real reason for the accelerator, but they "must play politics." In hard economic times, they said, physics has a much harder time getting its priorities addressed: many bemoaned the decline of the government's "pure science" R & D budget and the increased difficulty of getting grants.

But the competitive nature of "Big Science" can also be said to play an eliminative role in scientific research, they also said. Administrators in charge of the accelerators must often evaluate several proposals for various experiments, and reject them on the grounds of their relative "merit and feasibility." The physicists believe that this procedure is free of social criteria outside of scientific merit, in concordance with the Mertonian norms of organized scepticism and disinterestedness. But, I also noted that on various occasions, they admitted that the status position of the physicists connected with the experiment did play a role in the selection of experiments, and that the status of physicists might be influenced by such factors as seniority (age), certification (educational background), and "the cycle of credit" - how many times they have been cited by others and how many papers they have published. The role of other, 'accidental', variables such as gender or ethnicity in this process was vigorously denied. (However, one physicist did complain that while gender was not important for internal relations, it nonetheless did seem to shape interactions with some of those outside of the physics community, who often assumed she was a secretary rather than one of the building staff.) There were multiple explanations offered for the absence of racial minorities and women among the staff, mostly focusing on differentials in secondary education and the absence of role models, rather than policies of recruitment and retention.

As was mentioned earlier, physics is an international endeavour, and it would seem very unlikely that national cultures and ideologies would not influence its practice. Most physicists felt that cultural differences played a minor role in physical research - Europeans might be more authoritarian in their teaching methods, Japanese might not have the same "hands-on" approach to their instruments as Americans, the Soviets might rule out certain explanations as being too 'idealistic' - but they emphasized that these differences were indeed minor. After all, physicists in Japan get the same results as physicists in America when they run the same experiments, one physicist said. (But did they interpret those results differently?) Only one of my respondents concurred that culture did play a major role in the different international physics communities. He concurred that differing notions of space and time in different cultures might result in differences of approaches to the phenomenological world. He said there was a great divide between the way Europeans and Americans did science - a difference that went well beyond formal procedure to expectations of outcome. This difference extended to decisions regarding which areas were worthy of investigation and a deeper concern over the philosophical and humanistic implications of those areas. By and large this conforms to the norm predominance of Continental rationalism over Ango-Saxon empiricism commented on by other writers about European science.

PART III: MICROSOCIOLOGICAL ASPECTS OF THE BLOOMBERG PHYSICS COMMUNITY

The Social Processes of Knowledge Formation

There were several theoretical items in this area that I was interested in examining. One was Andrew Pickering's thesis that some of the entities of physics might be heuristic constructs - i.e. entities "created" by the need to justify the continuation of a research programme and an explanatory paradigm. Pickering felt that one or more of the particles in the SU(5) - the so-called 'Standard Model' family - might have been 'manufactured' in this way by adversaries of the other leading model (the theories of 'rejaepoles' or 'particle democracy'.) Physicists needed an additional quark - the so-called 'charm' - to fit their calculations for the alternative models of 'guage theory' or 'symmetry breaking.' And curiously enough, two teams of physicists found the charm quark within weeks of each other during the "November Revolution" of 1974. This led Pickering to examine the ways in which what physicists were looking for might be shaping the outcome of their experiments[30]. One physicist in Bloomberg who was involved in the events of 1974 described the process as "very political" and "full of big egos," resulting in the "canonization" of the "Holy Grail" of modern physics, SU (5).

Also, I was interested in how physicists formulated their theories. How did they arrive at their ideas, and by what criteria did they and others evaluate whether they were intellectually satisfying or not? What properties - aesthetic, formal, etc. - separated "good" theories from "bad" ones? And what images were drawn from popular culture to provide the visualizations for these models? From a purely 'behaviorist' standpoint, one might ask what 'rewards' (personal or social) physicists derive from their work, and how these in turn shape their idea formations as much as the 'punishment' (i.e. criticism) from their colleagues. Most of the physicists felt that popular culture and imagination played a small role in formulating 'thought experiments,' but that most said their ideas were created by a social process involving discussions with colleagues and reading of current scientific journals. As for which theories were most intellectually satisfying, they often cited simplicity, 'elegance', intelligibility, and creativity as some of the most important attributes. Many commentators of science have noted that the "scientific temperament" involves a curious fusion of the "meticulous precision of the engineer" with the "bold searching spirit of the avant-garde artist." Hence, theories are expected to be both within paradigm boundaries, but suggest new, bold areas of puzzle-solving and filling-in of incomplete areas, in a Kuhnian sense.

Most of the survey respondents indicated that their leading source of motivation and reward were a deep sense of personal satisfaction from their work, and also a feeling of gameplaying or fun. These tended to predominate over monetary or social rewards. "It's like getting paid to do what I like to do," one said. Almost all indicated that "knowledge (attainment of truth)" was a primary source of motivation. (This is interesting in light of the fact that at least ever since Karl Popper, many scientists have begun to suggest the relative unattainability of truth and focus on the project for science as being falsification.) Almost all rated "aesthetics (a sense of harmony)" as a low motivating factor in their research. Many felt that the lack of monetary and social rewards was actually negated by the presence of awards such as the Nobel Prize, which promoted excellence; but almost all felt that the importance and achievements of physics often went underrecognized by society at large. Internal recognition - the cycle of 'credit' and the economy of citation - predominated over external perception - such as how physicists were popularly perceived (as "absent-minded" or "eggheads") by society.

Further, I was interested in validating Latour and Woolgar's description of the process where observations move from nonfact to contested fact to accepted fact[31]. How, I asked the physicists, did a truly anomalous observation get a hearing in the scientific community... how did it get from being just an 'anomaly' to the potential basis for a new theory? Truly bold anomalies are often ignored completely, one physicist told me. Whether or not the scientific community paid attention to such anomalous observations was very dependent on who made the observation, he said. Factors in evaluating such an individual were age, reliability, and believability. If the individual observer of the anomaly was too young or too old, he would be dismissed as either 'wet behind the ears' or senile. Unless he or she had published consistently good results and findings up until now, and had no history of being associated with any kind of fudging, cheating, or skewing of data, that person would also very likely be ignored. Name recognition was important, also, because it was believed that a physicist who had already made a reputation for themselves would not be likely to seek additional fame and fortune. One main "no-no" was to take your results to the media before having them published and reviewed: one of the big problems with the scientific anomaly (currently non-fact) of cold fusion, I was told. Physics assumes anomalies to be rare and places a strong burden of proof on the observer of the anomaly - indeed, his or her motivations are often scrutinized to a great degree: "did they see it because they wanted to?" , although examination of psychological motivation rarely takes place in 'normal science'. No one asks: "Did he want the temperature of this sample to be so-and-so?"

Lastly, I was concerned about the ontological conclusions about the physical world that one might be able to derive from the peculiarities of the subatomic realm. Since it is one in which so many paradoxical, non-classical, acausal, non-commonsensical events take place, I was interested how the physicists living in "this" world (if it is a different one) were able to discuss and comprehend "that" one, where particles jump from place to place without covering the distance in-between (quantum tunneling); where many particles have no truly fixed position(uncertainty); where information can be communicated instantaneously(nonlocality); where many entities have the properties of both particles and waves(complementarity); and time appears to be fully reversible (acausality)? In the particle 'zoo,' there are many seemingly impossible objects - ones without mass (neutrinos), ones that go back in time (tachyons), ones made of antimatter (positrons), and ones that are, according to QED, not there but still fill 'empty' space('virtual' particles.) Many non-naive realists have been led to ask: how real are these things?[32] Are they as real as me or my table or a cell? Can a quark, which can never be isolated, be said to really exist?

There were many responses by the physicists to the potential cognitive dissonance of quantum mechanics. Many of them revolved around the fact that 'quantum mechanics' was just a 'special case' of Newtonian mechanics, which remained fully valid for macroscopic things like people. Just as relativistic mechanics are a 'special case' of classical mechanics which only become applicable at relativistic velocities, i.e. those close to the speed of light. The bizarre properties of the subatomic realm come from the fact that it is so small - according to deBroglie, all matter has wave properties, but macroscopic matter is just too big to display it. Others feel that the weird entities of high energy physics are just 'residual' products of the incredibly huge energies - our universe is too 'cool' for them to normally appear. Nonetheless, some people still wonder how the things we can see and behave in a deterministic way can possibly be made up of those things we can't which don't. Many of the physicists felt that this is merely the 'law of averages' at work - the purely stochastic, random behavior of quantum entities cancels out when they are combined into larger structures, which display orderly, causal behavior.

In general, the most common response was pragmatic: so what? So the particles in high energy physics do things we don't expect them to: this is probably due to the limitations of our thinking, our language, our technology, or the state of our science, not due to some fundamental ontological property of the world. If we come up with better ways of observing the phenomena and describing them, much of the confusion and 'high strangeness' of the quantum field will be dispelled. Most of the physicists did not feel questions like the relation of consciousness to reality were worth discussing, because there was little evidence available for that point of view (the so-called Copenhagen Interpretation) or its refutation, so it was a non-scientific concern. Physicists could read books of Eastern mysticism or anything else in their 'private' lives to contemplate such questions, but it was not part of physics-as-such.

The Organization of the Scientific Community

The primary division within Bloomberg is one that appears to be on the basis of division of labor. Based on pure "lifetime" constraints, as well as "beamtime," there are two classes of researchers. One theorist told me that he is "paid to stare and sit at his ceiling," although basically his real task appears to be working out complex mathematical formulae on an erasable surface. In contrast, the experimentalists are in charge of designing the controls, instrumentation, and design for experiments to look for new particles. I was told that physics has become so complex that no one individual could do both in an efficient manner. So, how does Bloomberg break down, and how do these subgroups of physicists interrelate? It turns out that the building is fairly close to 40% theorists, 60% experimentalists. By and large, each group deals with its counterparts at other universities or intellectual institutions moreso than with the other - a theorist probably talks to more theorists at other colleges than to experimentalists next door. That does not mean that the two subgroups do not interact - experimentalists could not know what to look for without drawing from the latest musings in the theoretical realm, and theorists would be spinning castles in the air if they didn't keep up with the latest experiments. This form of social division on the basis of theory and praxis is found in many other fields - in biology, one can continue into applied medicine or into medical research, though the division is not as 'hard and fast.'

Another way in which resources and power appear to be divided within Bloomberg are on the basis of educational background. When I was going around interviewing physicists on a particular day, one of them irately told me that I should go ask my questions of "one of the PhD's around here instead of me." Those who do not have doctorate of philosophy degrees appear to not have the same authority and prestige as their colleagues. This is not a novel observation - after all, who needs to be reminded that getting one's PhD in physics is a long, arduous endeavor, well worthy of recognition - but it was not immediately clear to me why someone with only a Master's would not be as equally qualified to answer my basic sociological inquiries, until it occurred to me that he would not have spoken 'authoritatively'. Largely, there does seem to be a belief among those without PhD's in Bloomberg that they are 'second-class citizens.' One survey respondent who had only a Master's degree was also the only one to indicate "educational background" as the most important variable controlling one's social standing within the physics community.

Contrary to what some ardent Traweekians might think, there is no hard and fast division between "big" and "small" science in Bloomberg[33]. Most experimentalists have been involved in both - going from inexpensive experiments right in the lab that they complete in a weekend to multimillion dollar SLAC experiments that take months to produce results. As most said, "It all depends on what I'm working on." But those who are working on "Big" science must form social networks of incredible complexity. Many papers in physics now often contain the names of 100 or more physicists from institutions all over the globe. Generally, I was told that the 'communications revolution' - particularly electronic mail and the fax - made such extensive collaborations possible. But I was curious how conflict between differing agendas could not possibly interfere - how all those researchers could be "kept on track." Largely, it appears that part of the process, according to my contacts, is the formation of 'teams' with team leaders at the various research institutions. How formal or informal this leadership is varies, but the main goal of these 'leaders' are to prevent falling behind on timetables and schedules: these collaborations must be efficient if they are to make the best possible use of their "beamtime."

One last phenomenon of note was the more invisible sources of guidance within the lab. The Department Chair and other administrators are largely in charge of bureaucratic internal affairs and external relations with the rest of the university, but play little role in the shaping of day-to-day life within the lab. I was told, however, that there were what Edward T. Hall might be called "Hidden Pacemakers" within the lab - certain individuals who set the rhythym and tempo of social life within the building[34]. Following the procedure of anonymity heretofore used in this paper, I won't name those individuals. But it should be pointed out from casual observation that they did indeed shape, in various informal ways, the mood and pace of other researchers - when they were sluggish, so were others around them; and when they were elated the atmosphere, at least on their floor, improved rapidly. Weberian charisma does play some role in the social organization of the lab, as much as bureaucratic authority.

The Ideological Aspects of Physics

It became fairly apparent to me that physics itself was freer of ideology than other areas of research within the sciences. But, besides normative structures, physics clearly involves, to a moderate extent, some ideological aspects. Largely, these have to do with epistemological presuppositions about physics itself. The very conception that the world is physical in nature is not empirical in itself - Berkeley's "pure mind" idealism was equally as logically consistent and as difficult to refute as materialism - but ideality is not one of the guiding assumptions of the mechanistic paradigm. Similarly, the assumption that the laws of the universe are eternal, universal, omnipresent, and unchanging (i.e. the gravitational constant will be the same 5 billion years, in another galaxy, as it is now) is an ideological derivation from this paradigm. Because if the laws of nature were not regular and universal, physics would not be a useful activity - it could not have moved from description to prediction, I was told, unless physicists believed that the place and time of the experiment were independent of such matters of 'control' as temperature and pressure, because that would mean "your" experiment could never produce the same results as "mine."

The ideology that there are laws of nature lead physicists to seek to normalize deviations rather than explain them in terms of new paradigms. Francis Bacon complained that the rigors of experiment were necessary because 'sloppy', messy nature would not guarantee repeatable results of itself unless tightly controlled, and nature was inherently capricious but could be 'tamed' into regularity. Much of the work in chaos theory represents an unraveling of this determinist ideology, which is why in popular culture the "ecopagans" have seized upon chaos as the way to save Nature from science. Some other factors that other sociologists have noted as being inherent in the ideology of science are: reductionism, the belief that systems are best understood when analyzed into their most elementary units; quantitativism, the belief that the processes of nature are wholly quantifiable and best described mathematically; gradualism, or the belief that the process of change are continuous, linear, and uninterrupted (like science itself!); and racionation, or the belief that only the measurable and categorizable is meaningul.[35]

Many feminists have commented about the "gendering" of physics and other sciences. Since women contribued so little to the institutionalization of science that occurred during the Scientific Revolution, many feminists have wondered aloud how many of the sciences would have developed in a non-sexist or non-patriarchal society. Fox-Keller and others have described the predominance of metaphors of the visual over the tactile in the history of science. Many feminists feel that a feminist physics would be more relational than absolute, more concrete than abstract, more contextual than content-focused, and more aesthetic than rationalist. Some have even suggested that it might invert the priority of nature over culture (!) in the nature of scientific description[36]. Few of the physicists I interviewed attributed any ideology to science outside of restating the Mertonian norms, and none really felt that there could be or one might desire a "regendering" of physics, although they all agreed that it would be desirable on the grounds of "pure diversity" to have more women in physics.

Relational Aspects of Bloomberg

It would be amiss to ignore the ways in which the activity in Bloomberg is structured by the university as a whole. The physicists must still teach their undergraduate classes and graduate seminars. Their work "reflects on the university as a whole," and they are aware of that: achievements like the Hopkins Ultraviolet Telescope are matters of pride and prestige for the entire university. Further, physics, like all the other arts and sciences at Hopkins, is shaped by the German research model which the university was founded on at the turn of the century, with its emphasis on "research excellence" and "self-directed education": young physics students are expected to be self-motivated and not be 'wet-nursed' along the way by their teachers, and they must be socialized into the 'sink or swim' , intellectually competitive world of physics. (Like many other divisions, physics pays more attention to its graduate students than undergraduates, and this is a frequent source of complaint.) And, like any department of the Arts and Sciences, physics is subject to the fiscal limitations created by the university's endowment and economic situation, and departmental limitations created by academic regulations. When the university is in fiscal trouble, the physics deparment cannot help but be influenced in terms of being able to attract faculty and maintain its staff. Bloomberg's social environment is in many ways a microcosm of the "human climate," to borrow a phrase, of the university as a whole. If cutthroat competitiveness is a feature of academic life in general, then physics (like pre-medicine) will display this predisposition doubly.

The two other institutions on campus with which Bloomberg works closely are the Steven Muller Space Telescope Science Institute and the Applied Physics Laboratory. The Space Telescope Institute basically is in charge of monitoring and controlling the data generated by the Hopkins Ultraviolet Telescope and the Hubble Space Telescope. For many of the space scientists and astrophysicists in Bloomberg, the STSI is an invaluable source of data and a great place to chat about the latest arguments in cosmology. Problems with the launch schedule of the Hubble - an immense funds generator for the university - delayed the expansion of the physics program which led to the department's relocation to Bloomerg; and problems with the functioning of the Hubble have been a source of consternation for the university ever since. Some of the Bloomberg space physicists work in ongoing collaborations with STSI researchers; many of the physicists, regardless of their fields, attend the "Open Nights" of the STSI when it shows its latest amazing findings and pictures of the cosmos with the community.

Bloomberg also shares data with some of the non-military research projects - particularly in biophysical problems of biotechnology - that are in progress at the Applied Physics Lab. The APL would have been an amazing case study in itself- unfortunately there were various obstacles to making it part of my ethnographic research- because it accentuates certain problems that are only marginally apparent in Bloomberg. I still wonder as to how the physicists at APL are successful in reconciling their military-related work with possible moral or philosophical dilemmas; perhaps they feel that values have no place in science at all, which should be 'value-free', or they feel that the value of promoting 'national security' outweighs the value of ending the danger that their research may pose to the future of humanity. Perhaps the APL researchers have the rationalization that they must "serve two masters": if they do work for the Navy, they may also be able to get government money to work on other civilian applied research such as biotechnology and nautical engineering. Perhaps the APL physicists have found ways of 'patting the Bomb': after all, they claim, they "don't build anything that goes boom," but just design the technologies which make sure the things that do go boom get to their targets with greater speed and accuracy. Much of APL's work has been criticized based on their controversial research into potential "first-strike" guidance systems or the so-called "Star Wars" Strategic Defense Initiative which some people felt made initiation of nuclear war more feasible and conceivable. APL is just an exemplary case in the ways in which military research and development priorities have begun to receive key attention on university campuses nationwide - all part of the Bush Administration's initiative to more closely link campuses with the Department of Defense's technological 'wish list.'

Most importantly, in many ways, APL represents a curious mirror image to the high energy physics in Bloomberg. What lay within the nucleus of the atom was a force which has helped to transform global power relations perhaps for all time. Atomic weapons gave the two superpowers (and some other nation-states desperate to catch up) an incredible grip over the globe and "the Atomic Age" was one in which faith in the power of science to transform the quality of life irrevocably was confirmed, especially in the eyes of underdeveloped nations. The pessimism created by technological threats to the environment and the failures of nuclear power have yet to undo the self-congratulation invoked by proponents of the use of "the peaceful atom." Yet within the atom was also another world, the quantum world, one in which at least some have seen hints of an ethic of interconnectedness and interpenetration. As APL turns out its weapons guidance systems to strengthen the power of the West over the rest of the globe, Bloomberg is undermining some of the very fundamental cosmological and teleological notions that undergird that "West," which is today more of a symbolic than geographic construct. As APL creates the devices that extends our control over the world, the high energy physicists are starting to discover how slippery, emphemeral, and uncontrolled the world really is. As APL helps to reinforce the technological advantage of the West and bring other nations into its commercial and cultural orbit, Bloomberg potentially reveals the possiblity of the equal validity of multiple cultural perspectives on the world, because consciousness may well create their realities . Like any mirror image, Bloomberg subverts its own twin in subtle ways.

PART IV: 'PSYCHOLOGICAL' ASPECTS OF PHYSICS

Physics and the Mertonian Norms

But the question remains: while all the physicists at one point or another expressed verbal affirmation of one or more of the Mertonian norms, did they really obey them? While the physicists insisted that physics was a universal discipline, one could not help but note how that belief belied the facts: why is it, then, that there are so few physicists per capita in non-Western nations, and in the Western nations, why it was that the only non-underrepresented ethnicities were Jewish and Asian? Where were the black and women physicists, the Zairean and Uruguayan physicists? No one, especially me, believed that there any putative 'racial' differences that prevented such people from mastering physics. The general obstacles invoked by the physicists were sociological: undereducation, class position, underdevelopment of nations, etc. But they were not willing to consider the possibility that: 1) there might be various informal mechanisms within physics itself that discouraged their participation (the high dropout rate of minority or women physicists suggests a hostile climate) or 2) there might be cultural differences in their worldview which were not conducive to the model of physical investigation devised in the West in and for its own context. While physics is supposed to transcend the boundaries of nations, many of the physicists still expressed feelings such as anger (or envy) at Japan for 'stealing' and capitalizing on the work done by physicists here in the U.S., or saw no problem in doing physics for the "national interest," such as working on national defense or reinforcing the national ideology.

The norm of communalism of intellectual property, consonant with the first, appears to be very significant in the physicists' ethos. The main reason why many of them expressed disapproval over others working on projects for national defense was that such projects were often Top Secret - meaning that their findings could not be shared and reviewed by other researchers in the civilian sector. "Those guys over at APL" were seen as "not being real physicists" because everything they did for the government was not shared with other scientists. Nonetheless, this norm is not completely applicable either. Many of the physicists had 'pet' projects that they worked on on their own without telling anybody else - which, of course, did not mean of itself that they wished to withhold what they discovered, but in at least one case a physicist expressed a desire to patent this process. This norm in science has been unraveling in many areas - witness the conflict over the patenting of human genome sequences and new AIDS drugs - and it also appears to be doing so to a lesser degree in physics, whose discoveries may not be as commercially or rapidly marketable.

The norm of disinterestedness plays an important regulative function, but few physicists really "bought" it in its entirety. Theoretically, a scientist was to try and be as free as possible of subjective biases as possible, as this might lead him to force facts into fitting theories: an open, inductivist mind which drew conclusions from facts was more desirable. But most of the Bloomberg physicists agreed that they came into an experiment with many expectations, perceptions, and preconceptions established: you couldn't do the experiment unless you at least had an inkling of what to look for, they said. If you didn't have a guiding paradigm, there was no way to interpret your results: a narrative has to emerge from the 'raw' data somehow. Every physicist seemed to think that it was highly unlikely that any researcher had no enthusiasm or passion for their work: imagination, forethought, and creativity were said to be important elements in physics - perhaps even more important than being able to follow a mechanical routine/procedure methodically and precisely. A sense of humor was as important as detachment and focus.

There was a definite resolute commitment on the part of the physicists to organized skepticism. Nothing was to be accepted which could not be rigorously proven, and nothing was to be taken on anyone's word which could not be demonstrated in experience. The need for this norm was based on a belief on the potential culpability and vulnerabilty of physicists to violating the norm of disinterestedness and therefore 'cheating' in ways which transgressed against the scientific method by inserting their own biases. Whole fields of science - parapsychology, etc. - have been anathematized for being fundamentally unable to practice organized scepticism. But as important as the "critical method," it was clear that there were other parts of the story - the reverence for the Great Men of physics such as Feynman, the authoritativeness of certain texts, and the judgement of lack of inherent belieavability against certain researchers - which were as important as empirical demonstration in the practice of criticism.

One physicist put it succinctly: "physicists are as human as anybody else and just as subject to human failings." Individual physicists, as human beings, cannot help but feel particularist attachments, egoity or selfishness toward achievements and honors, subjective biases, and suspension of their critical or skeptical faculty in certain areas. The norm structure of physics as a professional discipline is supposed to counteract these human failings. Particularism is to be worn down at international conferences; selfishness is to be eliminated by working in large collaborative teams; subjectivity countered by the processes of result publication; and lack of criticality by the use of outside groups (who do not know the researcher personally) to perform peer review and experimental reduplication. Nonetheless, even within its structure, there is both explicit and implicit norm violation. Physicists complain about the more clear norm violations - plagiarism, 'fudging' of results, fraud, self-deception, etc. But little is done about those that are more difficult to 'pin down' - favoritism, nepotism, 'old boy' networks, cliquishness, careerism, and elitism. Physics wants to profess certain norms that make it a unique enterprise, just as any professionalized discipline attempts to do, and make inculcation of those norms a part of accreditation. Whether it can ever live up to these norms completely is an entirely separate question. It might be argued that, since no one can ever be free of culture unless they are born in the wild without language, positing a norm of transculturality is unrealistic. Of course, some might dismiss such an idea as unnecessarily pessimistic or relativistic: can we not discover universal truths such as human rights that are applicable to all humans? I would suggest the answer may not be as easy as most people think.

Math and Magic, the Rational and the Irrational

In describing physics as a rational activity, we must realize that this definition only becomes meaningful through what Levi-Strauss would call negation. Rational activities can only be defined as such in opposition to "the irrational" - the fact that there is madness and irrationality makes rationality possible; it could not be describable otherwise. Foucault suggests that part of the episteme of the Age of Reason was the banishment and rationalization of madness, which had to be consigned to the asylum[37]; in previous ages, madmen or "holy fools" were believed to have a deeper connection to the hidden, subterranean aspects of reality - they were "touched," presumably by the hand of the Divine. This notion had been inverted by Freud, who in his psychology of mysticism presumed that the shaman of primitive tribes was really suffering from psychosis, and that people allowed him to indulge in his hocus-pocus out of pity for his condition. Before the Age of Reason, what was outside of reason was not necessarily inferior to reason: some cultures would accept the validity of knowledge attained through what we might today call revelation, intuition, "faith", or even madness. Logic leads to contradictions, said Aquinas, which only things beyond logic can resolve. That does not mean that the only pre-scientific forms of knowledge were "religious," in the sense of passivity to some external source of enlightenment. Some might be charitably called "right-brain" approaches to knowledge as opposed to "left-brain." But the opening move in the gambit of the Age of Reason was to constitute and banish the irrational. What came before our age were the daydreams of the childhood of humanity, said the encyclopedists of the Enlightenment; with reason it will attain to its adulthood.

The other revolutions of the 20th century have undone this gambit. The mind turned upon itself discovered the unconscious; language turned upon itself discovered the ambiguities of meaning in literature and other discourse; and reason discovered that rationality might be multiple. There could be other kinds of reason in other cultures since these might in turn have different rationales . Cognition in practice might be more 'irrational' in day-to-day life than we realize from an abstract perspective, while some seemingly 'irrational' behaviors might have their own rationality. Economists talk about "rational self-interest" while geneticists suggest from another point of view that "rationality" from the gene's point of view might involve altruism, at least to kin. At its own irrational extreme, rationality may become rationalization - such as the fox who comes up with a reasonable explanation for not wanting the grapes to persuade himself this is the case, even though he really does want them.

Still, we have not left the Age of Reason, where the judgement of something as 'irrational' is a value judgement: whether one is using it to describe terrorism or religion, the implicit judgement is that the phenomenon is dangerous and destructive. Most rationalists point to the Nazi regime as an example of what happens when irrationality takes over a society; yet the Nazi corporate state was the inheritor of the supreme rationality of the German mind. Nazi eugenecists compiled geneaologies of great complexity; Nazi doctors performed experiments which were for 'rational' purposes (can you transplant skin? This is a worthwhile question, after all) even though they were extraordinarily inhumane; Nazi bureaucrats made sure the trains to the concentration camps ran on time and the genocide campaign ran promptly on schedule; Nazi science, while very ideological, did produce the V2 and provided the basis for future rocket science. The Nazi state was supremely efficient, coordinated, and organized - the perfect rational state - but its rationality was a tool to an end which could be called irrational, though I prefer to call it inhuman, since rationality can serve inhuman ends. The point is, rationality depends on frame of reference . The arms race is perfectly rational from one perspective: we must develop weapon X before the other side does to prevent them from using it; yet clearly from another it is irrational, since it leads to a never-ending escalation and an ever-increasing threat.

This digression is not accidental. Sal P. Restivo[38] writes that the two are deeply connected. In Pythagoreanism, the precursor of many forms of mysticism as well as modern science, there is a sense of the mystical priority of number and the essential numericality of the cosmos. To me, the presence of the 'irrational' in the most rational of sciences is not unexpected. One physicist kept a journal entitled "Eschatology," in which he used Dyson's calculations to work out the fate of conscious life in the universe. I was not surprised to discover what one might call deep 'religious' or 'mystical' impulses behind physics, nor the way in which physics so easily appropriated the language of Eastern philosophy and mysticism: the Tao of physics, the Dance of Shiva. Yet most of the physicists wanted to avoid, even exorcise, the irrational. A scientist's interest in mysticism was often taken to mean that he just couldn't "cut it" in dealing with the material world, or was a bit dotty and not to be trusted. An interest in 'irrational' phenomena such as UFOs, parapsychology, or the so-called 'paranormal' was met with extreme irate rejection: such things were for feeble or deranged minds.

Yet physics has begun to enter domains where reason is sorely challenged. Can there be anything before the beginning of the universe? Can time itself have an origin? What lies "beyond" the boundary of the universe? Are there other forms of life in the universe? Ones that are conscious like us? (One physicist told me 'exobiology' - the study of extraterrestrials - would be the 'next anthropology.') Are all the forces we study aspects of one unbroken 'superforce'? Many physicists are looking for Theories of Everything (TOEs) and Grand Unified Theories (GUTs) that will unite all of physics under one mathematical formulation. The impulse behind many of these questions is more than reason, as many of the physicists admitted themselves. As physics enters the counter-rational world within the atom, where causality becomes meaningless and actuality becomes potentiality, the trajectory of the irrational once again enters the Age of Reason. We have found the most fundamental units of being, and they are not there.

PART V: CONCLUSIONS

If there was a point to this whole project, it was to place physics in context. The physicists wanted to see physics as context-free, as self-driven by its own 'hermetically sealed' goals, as autonomous from culture. But my investigation revealed to me that this is not true at any level. The enterprise of physics at Bloomberg is directed by various external social forces, ranging from shifts in global markets to government policy to changes in popular culture. It is also directed by the social life of Bloomberg itself, which is shaped both by larger social forces and internal dynamics. The very nature of the insitution itself, in spatial, temporal, and semiotic terms, expresses cultural and ideological values. And the activity of Bloomberg is patterned by the belief systems of its residents, who are both norm-obedient and norm-violating; those belief systems are a combination of what one might call the Enlightenment episteme and , in looser terms, 'modernity', with other idiosyncratic elements, the 'irrational' flotsam of culture.

If there was something I set out to prove, it was the validity of the social formation of knowledge. Nature does not speak personally to these physicists and offer her wares. They talk to their colleagues and to people outside their scientific community. Before they arrive at theories, they have pre-existing expectations, socializations, cultural 'imprints', worldviews, opinions, paradigm choices. I prefer to say that the physicists are uncovering "consensus reality" rather than "objective reality." What they are looking for determines what they find . What 'canonizes' one physical model over another is agreement, whether attained through logical argument, gentle persuasion, or brute political force: and to see changes in the paradigms of physics one cannot ignore the utilization of all three techniques, nor the importance of sociolcultural factors behind (and resulting from) new paradigm choices.

As Foucault points out, knowledge and power are inextricably connected. Knowledge may provide power, but more importantly, much of the sociology of knowledge has ignored the question of how what types of knowledge exist and are expressed also determine who is in power in a society. The narrative of knowledge, as any narrative, contains various silences: the question of power arises in that we must ask who decides where it is silent. So we must ask: where is physics silent? It refuses to admit that it determines and is determined by society. So we must ask: in whose interest is it to make this denial? The inauguration of modernity was brought about, as I suggested, by people who wanted to derive their authority from reason rather than tradition. Hence they sought their legitimation from experience and science rather than hermeneutics and religion. Their goal was to 'rationalize' the world: whether it meant to 'more scientifically manage' labor production or 'more efficiently' extract resources from Nature. This process, which Weber calls the 'de-enchantment' of the world, had multiple effects, including the creation of a sense of rootlessness and alienation as part and parcel of modernity, is a result of the growth in the west of the Protestant Ethic, from which the scientific, capitalist, and industrial revolutions sprang.

There is a current of thought which suggests that the problems of modernity - environmental, social, etc. - can be solved by science- more 'efficiency' in use of resources and the planning of growth. The world needs to be more rationalized, not less. But beginning with Nietzsche and culminating in Deep Ecology, there are rumblings of a countervalue, which says that we may not be able to solve the problems of modernity within the framework of modernity itself. Science may be part of the problem, not the solution, due to its presence at the nexus of modernity itself. Modern physics, in an ironic way, has begun to undo itself, by negating the classical, deterministic, and absolute principles of the mechanistic paradigm which gave birth to it. In a dialectical sense, physics may contain within itself contradictions which will give birth to a new historical formation of cognition. I cannot predict what that formation will be, but I believe that glimpses of it can be found in the 'holographic paradigm' which is in vogue in the neural sciences: that the universe is a hologram and what we see depends on where we look at it from. Its counterpart in the social sciences is the constructivist theory of knowledge: we construct reality, we do not discover it. The new social formations that will result from such a paradigm change will be as bold and striking as the collapse of institutions that occurred in the wake of Colombus and Copernicus.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

FOOTNOTES

  1. Collins, Harry M. Sociology of Scientific Knowledge. p. 2
  2. See particularly Robert K. Merton, Science, Technology, and Society in 17th Century England.
  3. Merton's basis was in Max Weber's work The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism.
  4. Much of this analysis comes from Iain Cameron and David Edge, Scientific Images and their Social Uses. , p. 15-18.
  5. Their arguments can be found in Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, and in Paul Feyerabend's Science in a Free Society.
  6. John Roche, Physicists Look Back. p. 78-80
  7. See in this regard Monod, Chance and Necessity
  8. See Bacon's chief work The Novum Organum. Many environmentalists have seen connections between the sinfulness of nature in Protestantism and Bacon's call for its effective 'conquest'.
  9. See David Apter's article, "The Role of the Scientific Elite and Scientific Ideology in Modernization," in Restivo and Vanderpool, Eds., Comparative Studies in Science and Society, p. 398-408
  10. Sal. P. Restivo, "The Ideology of Basic Science", in Ibid., p.334-352
  11. Taken from Albert E. Moyer, A History of Modern Physics, p. 47-62
  12. Lysenkoism used the same arguments to dismiss genes as 'ideal', abstract entities: see in this vein David Joravsky's The Lysenko Affair.
  13. See Michael Talbot, Beyond the Quantum, p. 108-117
  14. Some physicists, like Jack Sarfatti, John Wheeler, and Fritjof Capra, have assumed this position. Others, like Fred Alan Wolf and Stephen Hawking lean toward the Many-Worlds theory. Most physicists are not in either camp.
  15. This is stated in Karl Popper's Logic of Scientific Discovery quite explicitly.
  16. Andrew Pickering, Constructing Quarks, p. 6-8. He also says that "physicists know as much about the physical method as fish know about hydrodynamics."
  17. Festinger explored this phenomenon among flying-saucer cults. See his book, When Prophecy Fails , p. 223
  18. See Restivo and Vanderpool, p. 25-31
  19. See Edward L. Cochran and Carl O. Bostrom, APL: The First Forty Years. This is an "insider's" history and does not discuss more controversial aspects of the lab.
  20. Cameron and Edge, p.3. This also comes out in Foucault's theory of discourse, particularly as it appears in his Archaeology of the Sciences.
  21. Gilbert and Mulkay's Opening Pandora's Box is particularly illuminative in this regard, especially p. 6-9
  22. See Barry Barnes, Scientific Knowledge and Sociological Theory, p. 35-38
  23. This is discussed in F.R. Jevon's Science Observed., particularly p. 97-105
  24. In their book they have a whole long elaborate chapter on jokes in science. The fact that this chapter appears itself to be a joke (either on the publisher or us) is all part of the quirky self-consciousness of the book.
  25. See Edward Degler, In Search of Human Nature, and also Stephen Jay Gould's Mismeasure of Man.
  26. Marlan Blissett, Politics in Science, p. 43
  27. The seminal work in this area is James Gleick's book Chaos.
  28. This is noted in The Disarmer's Handbook by Andrew Wilson, p. 20-23
  29. Jevons, p. 107.
  30. It is also the basis for Pickering's work, Constructing Quarks.
  31. As discussed in Latour and Woolgar, Laboratory Life.
  32. Including Robert Anton Wlson in his great book Cosmic Trigger. This book may eliminate several consensus realities and tends to be habit-forming.
  33. The reference is to, of course, Sharon Traweek's Beamtimes and Lifetimes.
  34. The concept of hidden pacemakers is elaborated in Edward T. Hall's book The Hidden Dimension.
  35. Moyer, p. 40-46
  36. French Lacanian feminism has often taken this step.
  37. See Foucault's essay on madness in Power/Knowledge., p. 61
  38. See Restivo, The Social Relations of Mathematics and Mysticism, p. 2-4
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