The Function of Science
In enlisting the aid of reason in our quest for freedom, we shall be following in the footsteps of mathematicians and theoretical physicists. In their arduous and unflinching search after truth they have attained to a conception of the background of phenomena of far greater breadth and grandeur than that of the average religionist of to-day. As a mathematician once remarked to a neo-theosophist, “Your idea of the ether is a more material one than the materialist’s own.” Science has, however, imposed upon itself its own limitations, and in this connection these should be clearly understood.
Science is that knowledge which can be gained by exact observation and correct thinking. If science makes use of any methods but these it ceases to be itself. Science has therefore nothing to do with morals: it gives the suicide his pistol, the surgeon his life-saving lance, but neither admonishes nor judges them. It has nothing to do with emotion: it exposes the chemistry of a tear, the mechanism of laughter; but of sorrow and happiness it has naught to say. It has nothing to do with beauty: it traces the movements of the stars, and tells of their constitution; but the fact of their singing together, and that “such harmony is in immortal souls,” it leaves to poet and philosopher. The timbre, loudness, pitch, of musical tones, is a concern of science; but for this a Beethoven symphony is no better than the latest ragtime air from the music halls. In brief, science deals only with phenomena, and its gift to man is power over his material environment.