The scientific method is in essence about getting objective answers. Experiments are done in a carefully controlled manner, in such a way that other scientists can repeat them. Repeating an experiment should give the same outcome as the first time. Results are carefully interpreted and linked to a scientific theory, that is a systematic, logical and coherent summing up of our knowledge in a particular scientific field. Scientific theories should be free from bias. They should only depend on the results of the experiments and on logical reasoning. No personal or cultural influences allowed! No guesses, or "I feel that ..." — only facts and logic.

These principles have to be detailed further, for example what exactly is logical and what is not, and how unbiased can we be in stating facts. Nevertheless, the direction is crystal clear: science aims for objectivity, i.e. knowledge that does not depend on particular circumstances, personalities, preferences or politics. And this is excellent, because it provides a unique reference point in a world full of uncertainties.

This also means that science has a blind spot. It can not deal with subjectivity. It has no place for that which does not repeat itself. It can poorly handle events that can not be controlled. Science can not approach unique phenomena. This means that science becomes blind, deaf and silent where life matters most to us: the unique stream of experiences that we call óur life, our mind, our consciousness.

What goes on inside of us — sensations, emotions, thoughts — has meaning to us, and in fact is essential to us. It determines our experience of who we are. In particular it determines the experience of continuity: an unbroken stream of "this is who I am". But exactly this inner life has no meaning in the scientific sense. Oh yes, a scientist can look at us, and observe our behaviour, measure pulses in our brain, and correlate this to events happening outside and inside our body. Some correlations may be the same as those observed in others ("if I poke hére, thát happens"). Life is broken up by scientific investigation into a giant jigsaw puzzle of interlinked causes and effects, of actions and responses.

The scientific view is a view from the outside, identifying patterns that are similar to patterns seen before. Our personal view is a view from the inside, primarily concerned with valueing what we experience according to our internal reference system. There is much more to be said regarding this process, but for now the important point is this: there exists an interior view, and an experience of interiority that is wholly personal and subjective, and that differs from any exterior view that others have, including scientific observations made on us.

The distinction between interior and exterior views is a fundamental aspect of our existence. I cannot be certain that I am feeling and experiencing the same as you are, even when we are using the same words to describe what is going on. Do I mean the same as you when I say: I am sad? Does the colour blue have the same impact on you as it does on me? We can communicate about this: we can convey in whatever creative means we have at our disposal what is going on inside us. We can listen to the other with all our senses, and try to get a glimpse of what it is to be the other. This can be a frustrating process when communication breaks down, but on the whole it adds enormously to the richness of our existence.

The fact that science rules out subjectivity creates a split. Suddenly there are two parts of me: my subjective experience, and the objective me which can be measured, interpreted etc. The problem arises when communication between the two parts stop, and when we begin to believe that the two parts are totally separate. The problem becomes worse — a crisis — when we begin to believe that we can forget about the subjective part of ourselves and others. To the extent that our social systems (healthcare, education, economics, politics) are based on scientific, rational-objective modes of thinking, we run the risk of losing touch with our selves (and with all the other selves in the cosmos). The scientific view is like the lunar landscape: starkly beautiful and strangely uninhabited. Its utilitarian value is immense. But it needs the fiery breath of life to keep us from suffocating.

These themes are discussed more extensively in my paper "Met open ogen — over wetenschap en onze kijk op de wereld" (in Dutch).

My hope is to contribute to a dialogue between the external and internal ways of viewing. Neither is intrinsically better, and they need each other. This dialogue can be conducted on many levels: personal, practical and theoretical. At the fundamental level the question is how solid are the foundations for a purely objective, mechanistic world view. This issue is discussed in my paper "Mind in Matter". I focus on an exploration of the mechanical view of the world. We tend to equate mechanics with mind-less behaviour, and automatic — dead — functioning. I believe this is a mistake, and illustrate in my paper how meaning and mechanics are linked.

© Ton Rullmann