For science, if something exists it can be measured—if it can’t be measured, well, then it doesn’t exist. In a simplistic and slightly out of context metaphor, this is the equivalent of saying that for the blind the world does not exist because they cannot see it. What science has not questioned about itself are the very conditions under which it observes the phenomena of the universe, thus perpetuating its survival as an economic and political, but paradoxically, non-scientific practice.
The materialist paradigm—the standard by which science can produce answers today and for at least 200 years—yet cannot account for the simplest human experience: what is our consciousness? Are our feelings just chemicals flowing through an organic computer? And if so, why can’t a feeling be produced in a laboratory flask?
Thinking and measuring the universe based on constants makes the work much easier; However, the constants in science vary. Take as an example the force of , an empirical constant that is difficult to measure; a number that “measures” the force that attracts or repels two bodies. This number is extracted from the average of various measurements made around the world. The problem is that in recent years the big “G” has had variations as considerable as 1.3%.
With current standards it does not seem necessary to measure gravity again or develop instruments that allow it to be measured with greater precision, and thus know, for example, if events such as the relationship of the planet with other celestial bodies affect it, or the rotation movement same. No: gravity is a constant, it doesn’t matter if it varies. This scientific behavior is more like a belief—faith, if you like, thus turning science into dogma of faith—that the universe was born from the Big Bang, once and for all, with all its laws ready to be used. Ready-to-wear universes.
Minds like Carl’s could easily explain through popular science how a two-dimensional being (in a hypothetical world) could not perceive a three-dimensional universe. Is it possible that in our current dimension we cannot even assume that the universe as we know it is not given once and for all, but, like living beings, evolves over time?
Researchers considered practically heretics such as Dr. Rupert have proposed theories that challenge not science as such, but rather ask that science be truly scientific, that is, that it asks about the certainty of its own postulates and instruments. In his book Science Set Free, Sheldrake provides 10 scientific dogmas that should be reviewed.
1. Nature is mechanical: All creatures and systems in nature are nothing but robots made to follow a given genetic program.
2. Matter is unconscious: Plants, stars, animals and elements are material things that are not and cannot be conscious of themselves.
3. The laws of nature are fixed: At the moment of the Big Bang all the constants necessary until the end of time were established. Nature’s habits do not evolve.
4. The amount of matter and energy in the universe is always the same.
5. Nature has no purpose: There is no design in nature in terms of intention, and the evolutionary process is mechanical.
6. Biological inheritance: The plans to produce a living being are composed of physical matter housed in its genes.
7. Memory is stored in the brain as material traces: Memory is made of proteins and nerve endings organized like a drawer within itself.
8. The mind is in the head: The mind has a physical connection with the head and the brain, relegating the rest of the body to intellectual subordination.
9. Phenomena like telepathy are impossible: Thoughts have no effect on the world due to point number 8 (the mind is in the head).
10. Mechanical medicine is the only one that works: It is simply chance or placebo effects that traditional healing practices or natural remedies have any effect on people’s health.
Is it not possible, let’s say, hypothetically, that the version of the universe that we currently have is nothing more than the one that our instruments and especially our imagination allow us to understand? If science cannot account, in its current state, for such everyday phenomena of consciousness as memory or synchrony, or even phenomena produced by near-experiences or spontaneous epiphanies, is it not its role, as a science, reevaluate your own postulates?
Fortunately, science is not an immobile entity that develops by itself: it is made day by day by specific men and women, with personal experiences and unique possibilities, who have the capacity to decide for themselves whether the dogmatic conventions of their respective disciplines really are able to tell us something about the mystery and wonder of the universe. Integrating wonder into the scientific process will allow our understanding of the universe to be more than just a discourse; one that, in fact, seems too afraid to be science: a science that badly needs some passion.