Who do we want “scientists” to be?
At the recently held 2024 AAAS Annual Meeting, Science Editor-in-Chief Holden Thorp kicked off the closing plenary panel discussion with a simple yet profound question: Who is a scientist?
This seemingly simple question resulted in surprisingly varied answers from the panelists:
- Keith Yamamoto, the outgoing president of AAAS, defined “scientists” as those leading or performing scientific investigations – professional researchers, in other words.
- Incoming AAAS president Willie May pulled a definition of “science” from ChatGPT (of course) as “seek[ing] to uncover general truths or understand[ing] the fundamental laws which govern our universe” and concluded that anyone who joins in that pursuit can call themselves a “scientist.”
- Kaye Husbands Fealing, dean of the Georgia Institute of Technology Ivan Allen College of Liberal Arts, defined scientists as those “interested in getting to the essence of why things occur” and specified that social scientists most definitely fit under this umbrella.
- Michael Crow, president of Arizona State University, noted that what separates humanity from other species is its desire to understand and make things, which makes all humans “scientists” (“or at least…should”).
- Margaret “Peggy” Hamburg, co-president of the InterAcademy Partnership and the last panelist to speak, agreed with this broad definition and remarked on the elements of science in the way toddlers continually discover how things work.
If these five “scientists” (or non-scientists?) have disagreements over a question so fundamental to what they have devoted their lives to, is it even possible to answer the question? Not in any objective manner; science itself is something we invented, so there is no factual or Natural basis on which to define it. However, this leads to the more important question: what do we want it to mean to be a “scientist?” That question can certainly be answered, and we get to decide what that answer is.
Scientists have a history of coming up with definitions which seek to be useful rather than correct. For example, 18th century Scottish engineer James Watt needed a way to quantify the rate of work which could be done by his improved steam engine. Using a piece of then-conventional wisdom – that a pit pony could pull 220 pounds of coal up a 100-foot mineshaft in a minute, thus performing 22,000 foot-pounds of work per minute – Watt decided that a horse, which is larger than a pony,[1] is probably about 50% stronger. From this he coined the term horsepower as being 33,000 foot-pounds per minute.[2] (One horsepower is the equivalent of about 746 Watts,[3] with the Watt, named after James himself, being the current standard unit for power.)
This definition of “horsepower” is not all that scientific. While it is based loosely on observable evidence, it was certainly not rigorously verified and it has remained an accepted unit of measurement for a quarter of a millennium, despite rigorous peer dis-approval. However, science is full of definitions which serve the needs of scientists and society but not necessarily Nature. It is not a coincidence that water boils at exactly 100 degrees Celsius or that the Earth takes 24 hours to spin on its axis.[4] While these definitions are related to SI Units, which themselves are based on fundamental constants of nature, they exist because we want useful points of reference in our daily lives, not because they represent some underlying truth. (Try looking at tomorrow morning’s weather in degrees Kelvin and see if you can decide whether to wear a coat. You can then thank Swedish astronomer Anders Celsius for his contributions to humanity.) Merriam-Webster adds thousands of words to its dictionaries each year not because they are arbitrary but because we have assigned sufficient meaning to them. James Watt did not define the horsepower on a lark. He designed it to advertise his steam engines by clarifying their importance in a reasonably accurate, if not precise, manner.
We should take the same approach in defining “scientist:” giving people an idea of what it means and, perhaps more significantly, advertising it as a title worth pursuing. After all, we continually claim to value science and the work of those who practice it, and we constantly say that we need more scientists (and we certainly will). But if we don’t define what a “scientist” is in understandable and attractive terms, how can anyone encourage their student or child to become one?
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Given this framework, let’s revisit the definitions posed by the AAAS panel. Dr. Yamamoto’s definition of a scientist – as someone whose current job is to perform scientific investigations – is not a good advertisement. By that definition, a child who is interested in science couldn’t call themselves a scientist until they reached a point in their academic careers when they have an opportunity to participate in research, if they are ever given such an opportunity at all. This definition creates barriers which an individual can overcome, but which might, through no fault of their own, be insurmountable. Simply put, the definition is inherently inequitable. If we profess a belief that science should be a pursuit available to everyone, regardless of their background, then this definition may serve the needs of the current scientific community but not the more diverse and more equitable community we hope to create. Michael’s definition, on the other hand, also doesn’t serve our needs because it doesn’t sufficiently distinguish being a “scientist” from being anything else. At the end of the day, we want “scientist” to be aspirational, and it’s hard to aspire to being something you already are.
The balance is in making the qualifications for being a scientist identifiable but also attainable. After all, as Peggy pointed out during the panel, “science isn’t some special thing only certain people can do.” The qualifications need to be broad enough that anyone can meet them with some effort – even those from underprivileged backgrounds and those with disabilities – but not so broad as to make the title of “scientist” insignificant. Moreover, meeting these qualifications needs to be based on effort and intention and not decided by some adjudicating body. A faculty panel may be needed to confer a Doctorate, but there should be no experts who get to determine whether someone is or is not a “scientist.” It should be a self-determined and self-affirming part of one’s identity which cannot be discredited. That being said, a key concept in science is the rejection of infallibility, so while being a “scientist” should be self-determined, it should require self-reflection and an openness to critique.
Ironically – or appropriately, depending on your philosophy – a more nuanced definition of a “scientist” can be patterned off that of an “artist.” In fact, this parallel is the original parallel drawn by William Whewell, a Fellow of the Royal Society of London who coined the term “scientist” in 1834:
“We need very much a name to describe a cultivator of science in general. I should incline to call him a Scientist. Thus we might say, that as an Artist is a Musician, Painter, or Poet, a Scientist is a Mathematician, Physicist, or Naturalist.”[5]
The usefulness of this term “scientist” as a descriptor overcame the distaste of many “men of science”[6] of the time and its own “philologically…dubious” nature, much in the same way that horsepower has overcome its questionable accuracy.[7] So let’s take a look at the Merriam-Webster definition of “artist:”
“(noun) A person who creates art (such as painting, sculpture, music, or writing) using conscious skill and creative imagination.”
It’s not much of a definition, really: “using conscious skill and imagination” is not too high a bar, and “art” itself is inferred by example, not defined. There are many questions which this definition of “artist” leaves to the users of the word to answer: Is dancing at a party enough, or do you need to do it in a “professional” setting (whatever that means)? How about “writing” a check? Are you a “pianist” – and therefore, more broadly, an “artist” – when you are not actively playing the piano? Does a world-renowned “pianist” lose that title if arthritis forces them to stop performing?
There are no fundamental answers to these questions, no matter how strongly you believe in your own point of view. The definition of “artist” is subjective in that way because it is collectively determined by all of us. We’re making up the rules as we go. And that’s true for “science” as well.
So, how does Merriam-Webster define “scientist?”
“(noun) A person learned in science and especially natural science: a scientific investigator.”
“Learned in science” suggests that there is something distinct about scientists. The problem with this distinction is that it doesn’t track with our experience; the scientific method makes no requirement that your hypothesis be based on what you learned in chemistry class. “Investigator” is on the right track, but it isn’t quite explicit enough on what a person needs to actually do.
For whatever it's worth, here is my definition:
“Scientist: (noun) A person dedicated to understanding how the world works through observation, experimentation, analysis, and revision.”
This definition is admittedly self-serving. I am someone who no longer performs research activities daily but still considers “scientist”, specifically “physicist," to be an integral part of my identity, and defining “scientist” in this way leaves space for me to continue being one, even in my current science-adjacent occupation. I do know that there are others in a similar position and perhaps some of them would support this definition. Maybe they wouldn’t. Ultimately, whether or not this or any definition serves the needs of the scientific community is up to “scientists” to decide.
[1] The International Federation of Equestrian Sports defines a pony as having a height at the withers (the ridge between the shoulder blades) less than 149 centimeters, or 14.2 “hands.”
[2] Longley, Robert. "The Origins of the Term, 'Horsepower'." ThoughtCo, Sep. 3, 2021, thoughtco.com/where-did-the-term-horsepower-come-from-4153171.
[3] The typical microwave uses around 1000 Watts of power, so about one and a third horsepower.
[4] Technically 23 hours and 56 minutes, but who’s counting?
[5] W. Whewell "The Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, Founded Upon Their History" (1860, 373), London J.W. Parker
[6] A (thankfully defunct) predecessor to “scientist,” along with “naturalist” or “natural philosopher.”
[7] Sydney Ross B.Sc. Ph.D. (1962) Scientist: The story of a word, Annals of Science, 18:2, 65-85, DOI: 10.1080/00033796200202722
