The Structure of my Scientific Revolution, pt. 2
How three of Kuhn's more controversial points relate to living under, and leaving, the academic paradigm
In last week’s newsletter I summarized Thomas Kuhn’s influential theory of the history and culture of science, and attempted to apply it to my experience in and out of academia. This week I discuss a few of the more controversial extrapolations from Kuhn’s basic theory. As always, let me know what you think! And, if you like what I’m doing here, please consider recommending Unprofessoring to someone else, subscribing, or even becoming a paid subscriber.
As was discussed in the comments last week, a key feature of operating under a paradigm is being blind to the fact that you are operating under a paradigm. Re-reading Kuhn’s work helped me understand three things about my experience in academia that I don’t think I appreciated while inside it: change is discouraged under a paradigm, it is enticing but inaccurate to cast ourselves as heroes in a journey to perfect understanding, and it’s futile to compare old and new paradigms.
1. Paradigms discourage change
I’ve often ruminated on how truly conservative scientists are. Not politically—we skew liberal as do most academics—but in the sense of being resistant to change. I certainly was! For several years I continued to give lectures in my undergraduate course, even though I knew that active learning is best for a variety of reasons. As a postdoc, I did long protocols exactly the way I was taught, over and over, even though I suspected some of the long steps were unnecessary.
According to Kuhn, scientists also also resist change to their pet theories and paradigms, making scientific revolution a rare event. “Revolutions are not sought except under extreme circumstances,” he wrote. While it’s true that scientists love to innovate and are genuinely thrilled with new scientific information and novel methods, when it comes to the way we do science, we prefer to stick to what we know. After learning all the ways that a particular paradigm helps science move forward during our training, starting fresh is challenging and distasteful. Kuhn wrote about this conflict between innovation and conservation in scientific culture in his essay “The Essential Tension”.
I doubt I’m surprising Unprofessoring readers by saying that academia is conservative in this same way. It’s true that some new knowledge and understanding is quickly integrated. Respecting pronouns spread quickly. We did a great job of pivoting to online teaching and to more empathetic ways of grading during the pandemic. But, these changes are mostly reversed now. And other things—like the fundamental ways in which the system continues to benefit those already privileged by the system—have proven almost impossible to change.
I experienced a similar resistance to change before I hit my academic crisis. Even though I was often miserable, I had a hard time doing much more than complaining. Partly this was because there were good things about my career—my research, lab group, colleagues. Part of it was the issue of sunken costs. I’d dedicated so much of my life, in years and in hours, to this career. And partly it was hard to overcome the sense that I was a failure for quitting. For much of my training it was implicitly imparted that leaving academia for industry or other “alternative careers” is a kind of defeat. (I do think this attitude is disappearing, and it’s a good thing, but I’d absorbed it early on and it was tough to undo it). I’m sure some people and some industries are different, but for many of us, academics in particular, moving out of the system is challenging because the system itself taught us that (this kind of) change is impossible and/or bad.
2. No heroes here
Kuhn’s book was, in itself, a bit of a revolution. It challenged the story that scientists, scientific historians, and scientific philosophers like to tell: that each new result builds on all of those made before, that science is always moving forward. The ultimate extrapolation is that we’ll eventually have a complete understanding of the world. I think this idea is still in many minds; we love to cast ourselves as heroes in a journey toward truth.
But Kuhn argues that the history of science shows over and over again that scientific “progress” is not a linear stacking of brick of knowledge upon brick of knowledge. Rather, it is a cycle through a predictable set of phases—normal science, crisis, and revolution—and knowledge is modified or even lost in each cycle. Furthermore, science isn’t moving towards perfect understanding or truth any more than animals are evolving towards a perfect species. Kuhn would say instead that science is evolving to better utility.
As a basic plant biologist whose work was unlikely to cure cancer, solve climate change, or feed the world, I never saw my research through a heroic (or even a utilitarian) lens. I just liked thinking and talking about plants and mechanobiology. I will say, though, it’s tempting to simplify my decision to leave academia in this way. I could be a hero escaping a villainous culture, or on a journey to save my transgender son, or living out a coming of (middle) age story of self-discovery. In all these stories, I’m the hero and I’m moving from one scenario to one that is better in some way. But if I’m honest, my experience hasn’t felt like a linear movement to another, better place. Some things are better but some things are not, and the truth is that I’m not totally sure that leaving was even the right thing to do.
3. Paradigms are incommensurable
Which leads us to another of Kuhn’s more controversial extrapolations. He argued that different paradigms are “incommensurable”—that is, they can not be compared to each other in a meaningful way to find one that is better or more true. Because the success of a paradigm is utility rather than truth, and because experiments within a paradigm are evaluated compared to an exemplar that is specific to that paradigm, there aren’t any external rules that allow direct comparison.
In the same way, I prefer not to compare my post-academic life to my academic life. The standards just aren’t the same. It would be comforting to believe that whatever second career I find builds entirely on top of the old one, that every step I took brought me to this place—but I don’t really believe that my post-academic life is a progression from or a completion of my academic life. I don’t think I’m more advanced or more special or less toxic or less privileged now than I was before. I reject the notion, the one that you’ve surely seen on Twitter or LinkedIn, that either the academic or the post-academic paradigms are wholly good or bad. Academia is not perfect, it is not the only job with creative freedom—nor is it uniformly toxic and underpaid. Post-academic life is not idyllic, well-paid, or relaxing, nor is it a sign of failure or a sell-out on my part. I don’t think this life is more perfect than any other. I am just living in it and seeing where it goes.
What’s next:
Ever wonder when I finally decided it was time to leave? It’s a wild story! In the next installment in this series, I’ll share an essay about the final crisis that led me to discard the academic paradigm.
In other news:
I had an interesting conversation with the folks behind Beyond Academia. You can read it here.
Discussion Section
Do you recognize the tendency to cast ourselves as heroes in our own stories?
Do you think this is largely helpful, or harmful?
If paradigms are bubbles, then yeah.