The strange paradox of modern science denialism

“It’s hilarious what these astrophysicists have to say about the Universe.” That was a sentence (not verbatim) that popped up in the comments below a video of my recent 3.5-hour interview with Lex Fridman. Fridman is a popular podcaster with a keen interest in scientific and philosophical “big questions.” Our discussion explored a wide range of topics: the formation of planets; astrobiology (the study of life in the Universe); information and the fundamental nature of life; experience and consciousness; and blind spots in the philosophy of science. It was, as the Canadians say, “Big Fun.”

Despite my better judgment, however, I occasionally looked at the social media reaction to our discussion. Most folks were posting questions with really interesting takes. But along with some positive reactions, there was, as always, a stream of science denialism embodied by the quote at the head of this piece. After years of doing “science comms,” I am no stranger to denialism in all its forms. I have gotten my share of threats based on the writing I do about climate science. My work on technosignatures (e.g. detecting technological civilizations on exoplanets) has also earned me the ire of more than a few UFO true believers. But the kind of denialism embodied in that quote is something different. It’s worth exploring for a moment because it reveals an important particularity of the science-saturated/science-denying moment we live in.

The paradox of modern science denialism

The person writing the “hilarious” comment wasn’t denying that science was possible. He or she wasn’t saying there was an ongoing hoax aimed at misleading the public. And they also weren’t claiming a cover-up of existing data, as can occur with UFO enthusiasts. Instead, they were claiming that while a science describing the Universe is possible, the scientists doing that science have gotten it all wrong. For the writer of that comment (and others I found like them), the astrophysicists are idiots. When I followed down their rabbit holes, I saw scientists portrayed as narrow-minded, group-thinking fools too conservative or concerned about their own status to consider alternative ideas (i.e. the ones these folks advocate for).

I am old enough to remember the pre-social media era when there was a name for people like this: “cranks.” Back in those days, every scientist got the occasional letter from someone claiming they had solved quantum gravity or had proven that the “Plasma Universe” could explain everything the Big Bang could not. Mostly these letters were friendly. Sometimes they weren’t. 

In the realm of social media, however, what used to be lone cranks have become accounts with 100,000 angry followers. While I could get offended by the way these folks portray researchers in my field (and I am sure I am to be included in their critique), what’s interesting to me about this stream of science denial is the weird contradiction lying right at the heart of the enterprise. 

Claiming that it’s “hilarious what these astrophysicists have to say about the Universe” simultaneously undermines what it wants to claim. These deniers admit that there are astrophysicists who spend decades training in mathematics, computing, and technology. And with that training, these astrophysicists clearly go on to build fantastically powerful telescopes that gather data from across the galaxy or the Universe. That training is also what gives astrophysicists the ability to transform raw data from the instruments into accurate cosmic images or maps or spectra or whatever. The important point is that no one has any problem admitting that this process is how we see the Universe we then want to develop theories for. 

It’s exactly at this point that the remarkable contradiction emerges. Somehow, even though these astrophysicists have the skills to deliver all this data, they can’t be trusted to come up with useful theories to explain that data. That task, according to these kinds of deniers, is better left to some random dude in his mom’s basement. And if that guy has somehow garnered a few hundred thousand followers, then that’s all the more proof that he’s the one to listen to. The back-and-forth I find between accounts of people who take this kind of position is fascinating because they are using the fruits of science to deny science. They use images taken by Mars Rovers or data from the James Webb Space Telescope to argue that the existing scientific accounts are all stupidly wrong. But they do this without acknowledging the science (and scientists) it took to get them content (i.e. the data) their denial is based on.

You might say none of this is important: Of course there are kooks on the internet and we need not pay attention to them. There is some truth to that position. But if you look deeper, I think you’ll find an important paradox that’s been emerging for over a decade or so. Never has human society been so dependent on, and intermeshed with, the fruits of science. Billions of people would be dead without it. And yet, somehow, trust in science as an institution is falling. The kind of denial I’m talking about here is one manifestation of that. The high-profile incident with actor Terrence Howard making wild claims about math and science on Joe Rogan’s podcast is another example. For a too-large fraction of the population, the science they are surrounded by — the science requiring years of training to understand; the science their lives depend on — can be held suspect. Why? Well…just because. 

Science absolutely requires skepticism to progress. But to have skepticism about any particular scientific result, you must first understand how skepticism functions in science. That means having a deep knowledge of the science you are aiming your skepticism toward. That is not what’s happening now in the age of social media science denial, along with computational propaganda and the other “at scale” information (or misinformation) distribution systems. 

And this is the real paradox at the heart of science denial. It’s the tools developed by science that make it possible.