Neil deGrasse Tyson, the celebrated astrophysicist and science communicator, is widely known for a statement that, depending on your perspective, is either a powerful declaration of scientific objectivity or a display of intellectual hubris: “The good thing about science is that it’s true whether you believe it or not.” While intended to champion evidence-based reasoning over personal belief, the quote’s definitive, almost smug, tone glosses over a fundamental characteristic of the scientific endeavor: its perpetual state of revision. Science is not a static collection of absolute truths, but a dynamic, unfolding process. This raises a critical question for anyone who values scientific thought: if the “facts” of science are constantly changing, what does it mean for science to be “true”?
To unravel this apparent paradox, we must delve into the philosophical underpinnings of scientific knowledge and examine how the concept of “truth” applies within the scientific endeavor.
The Provisional Nature of Scientific Truth
In philosophy of science, the debate often revolves around scientific realism and anti-realism [1]. Scientific realists generally hold that our best scientific theories offer approximately true descriptions of the world, including unobservable entities. Anti-realists, conversely, are more skeptical, often arguing that theories are merely useful tools for prediction and explanation, without necessarily corresponding to an underlying reality. Tyson’s quote, with its unyielding certainty, champions a form of naive realism. It suggests a direct, unproblematic correspondence between our theories and reality, a stance that many philosophers of science and scientists themselves would find overly simplistic.
However, the history of science demonstrates that scientific “truth” is rarely absolute or final. Instead, it is provisional, constantly subject to revision and refinement as new evidence emerges and new methodologies are developed. This dynamic nature is a cornerstone of the scientific method, not a flaw. Karl Popper’s concept of falsifiability highlights this: a scientific theory must be capable of being proven wrong to be considered scientific. Theories that withstand repeated attempts at falsification gain stronger empirical support, but they are never definitively “proven” in an absolute sense.
Thomas Kuhn’s work on paradigm shifts further illuminates this provisional aspect. Kuhn argued that science progresses not through a linear accumulation of facts, but through revolutionary periods where an old paradigm (a dominant theoretical framework) is replaced by a new one. These shifts occur when anomalies accumulate that the old paradigm cannot adequately explain. The transition from the Ptolemaic geocentric model to the Copernican heliocentric model, or from Newtonian physics to Einsteinian relativity, are classic examples of such paradigm shifts.
A Graveyard of Theories? Historical Examples of Scientific Revision
The history of science is indeed replete with theories once considered factual that have since been superseded. These examples are often cited by critics to undermine the authority of science, but they actually underscore its self-correcting strength.
Consider the Phlogiston theory of combustion, prevalent in the 18th century. It posited that a fire-like element, phlogiston, was released during burning. While ultimately incorrect—Antoine Lavoisier’s oxygen theory replaced it—phlogiston theory did attempt to explain observed phenomena and provided a framework for early chemical investigations. Similarly, the Miasma theory attributed diseases to “bad air” or noxious fumes. Though later supplanted by the Germ theory of disease, which identified microorganisms as causative agents, miasma theory did lead to practical public health measures like improved sanitation, which coincidentally reduced disease transmission.
Even foundational theories like Newtonian mechanics, while incredibly successful for centuries, were shown to be incomplete by Einstein’s theories of relativity. Newtonian physics accurately describes the motion of objects at everyday speeds and scales, and it remains immensely useful for engineering and many branches of physics. However, at very high speeds or in strong gravitational fields, Einstein’s equations provide a more accurate description of reality. This isn’t to say Newton was “wrong” entirely; rather, his theory was a highly accurate approximation within a specific domain.
Science as an Asymptotic Pursuit of Truth
These historical revisions lead to a more nuanced understanding of scientific truth. Many philosophers of science view scientific progress as an asymptotic process—science continually approaches truth without necessarily ever reaching a final, absolute endpoint. Each new theory, while potentially overturning aspects of its predecessor, often retains the explanatory power of the older theory within its domain and extends it to new phenomena. This idea is closely related to structural realism, which suggests that even when the theoretical entities of older theories are discarded, the mathematical and causal structures they describe often persist in newer, more accurate theories. For instance, while the specific concept of phlogiston was wrong, the process of something being released during combustion was an observed phenomenon that the oxygen theory explained differently.
Reconciling the Paradox: The Objective Process of Science
This brings us back to Tyson’s provocative statement. To claim science is “true” in some absolute, final sense is to misrepresent the very nature of the scientific enterprise. Such a declaration, while perhaps effective as a soundbite, fosters a brittle and arrogant view of science—one that sees it as a source of dogma rather than a method of inquiry. The real power of science lies not in its capacity to deliver immutable truths, but in its systematic process for challenging, refining, and sometimes completely overthrowing its own conclusions based on evidence.
Ultimately, the statement that science is “true whether you believe it or not” is, ironically, a matter of belief—a belief in the power of the scientific method. A more accurate, albeit less punchy, statement might be: “The good thing about science is that it provides the most reliable method we have for understanding the world, and its conclusions are always open to revision based on new evidence.” Science is not true because a scientist, however famous, declares it to be so. It is powerful because it is a humble, unfolding process—a continuous and collective quest for a better approximation of reality, a process that is never truly finished.
