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Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Bad Science

Political Scientists often get a bad rap from the “hard” sciences of the physical world – chemists, physicists, geologists, or what have you – who deal in sciences where measurements and units of analysis are fairly consistent and well defined.  They say there is nothing scientific about what we do because we deal primarily in seemingly unscientific variables which are heavily value-based and inconsistent.  Whereas something like the mineral compounds of a certain rock or metal will always be objective and constant, something like the approval ratings of a president or what to do over a hot topic like abortion will always be subjective, conflicting and value-laden.  In this light, why would we even call political science a science at all?

Though political science is certainly incompatible with the natural sciences in many ways, the truth is that political science is an incredibly useful tool for understanding the most unpredictable variable we as a species have yet encountered – ourselves.  Political science gives us a means to qualify and quantify a myriad of issues that concern the day-to-day lives of a great deal of people.  It helps us find the policies that work and don’t work.  It helps us identify the core problems in our communities.  It helps us prescribe, rather than simply describe, means to build strong institutions, fight corruption, and provide for stable governance.  And, believe it or not, political science even has its own “scientific method” when dealing with issues that are prescriptive in nature.

The problem with political science, then, lies not in the science itself.  Rather, the problem with political science lies in the “Bad Science” approaches many would-be political scientists take.  It is important to note that, when I mention political scientists in this instance, I am not restricting my view only to professional political scientists and politicians.  Instead, I am referring to any individual who is involved in a political system, which may very well include every person in the world.  The reason I refer to political scientists in this way is by virtue of the sheer pervasiveness of the field of political science.  Even individuals who have never voted, never intend to vote, and know literally nothing about their own government and political system are indeed actors in their respective political spheres, and ergo can be considered political scientists of sorts (albeit horrible ones).

These “bad scientists,” which I fear may constitute a very large number, are those who have made very little or no effort at all to examining their political beliefs and what they entail.  These individuals, trapped in a strange and esoteric view of the world, subscribe to an extremely narrow-minded view of the political climate around them and indeed may only be concerned with things such as their day-to-day dealings and well being.  When confronted with a political issue, they tend to follow an extremely faulty scientific method.  They have their pre-conceived notion of what they see as correct, and then try to find data, whether quantitative or anecdotal, to support their conclusion.

As any “hard” scientist would tell you, this is a completely backward way of solving a problem.  While I will admit that personal biases are virtually impossible to do away with entirely in this field, the fact remains that, when trying to solve a problem, every effort should be made to see to it that the end result in itself is not biased.  Proceeding in such a matter is not only possible in political science, but is actually fairly easy.  One example would be the Student Ethics Committee I am a part of at Weber State University.  This group is currently attempting to tackle the issue of campaign finance reform in the State of Utah.  This is an extremely sensitive topic, but we have developed a basic route to understanding the problem.  We will be studying lobbyists, representatives to the legislature, the amount of funding in campaigns, and a number of other topics.  Once we have gathered this data, we will piece it together and compare it with other data from other models which are perceived as working well.  After this comparison, we will generate our recommendations for the State of Utah.

Notice that the recommendations are the very last part of the report – not the first.  Though we have an idea of where our research might lead, we have not yet created any recommendations, as we don’t know exactly where the data will point us.  Though when our recommendations are created there is certainly the possibility that our results will be disputed, the fact remains that we will have followed an empirical research model and will have produced information that is useful and for the most part free of bias.

But even in the hard sciences results are often disputed.  Part of being a good scientist is realizing that your work may not have been without flaw.  You must detail your method and leave it open to replication by other parties, who may or may not get the same results as you did.  Accepting that you may be wrong is, again, part of being a good scientist.  Letting yourself subscribe merely to dogma is antithetical to good political science and is antithetical to the development of strong communities and political systems.

I encourage you, then, to instead be good political scientists.  Starting this process is not at all difficult, and can begin by doing something as simple as reading a newspaper or comparing views online.  Many websites are available, in fact, that can help streamline this process for you.  Two I would suggest are www.factcheck.org and www.politifact.com.  These sites can help you sort through the dogma and find the heart of the issues most important to you.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Reflections on September 11


Ten years ago on this now infamous day, I myself was ten years old, a sixth grader at Whitesides Elementary school.  I remember walking to the entrance of the school and hearing my friend Andrew tell me that “Terrorists blew up the World Trade Center.”  I had no idea what he was talking about.  The words “terrorists” and “World Trade Center” were new to me, so I gave a rather nonchalant reply, saying something like “Oh yeah?  Wow.  That’s crazy.”

In the classroom, however, I finally began to grasp exactly what was going on.  It turned out that these terrorists were people who were angry with the United States for some reason, and that this World Trade Center was a large complex of buildings in New York.  A small television screen, normally reserved for educational films or children’s shows, became our gateway to hell on earth.  Broken hearts and burning cities flashed in front of our eyes, and those of us who hadn’t yet met death and tragedy had our innocence tarnished.

Ten years later, I wonder what lessons we best learned from that day.  Most of us who were so small had to learn the details of the attacks secondhand through our parents or other adults.  Given that even most of the adults didn’t understand the specific details, it seems that the picture of the tragedy itself was further tarnished by a failure to grasp the intricacies of a conflict that may very well define our generation.  Instead of attempting to understand this strange and specific enemy, we instead accepted a broad generalization, one which encompassed the entirety of Islam as enemies of the United States.  A faith which produced the light and love of poets like Hafiz and Rumi, and the incredible scholarship of academics like Averroes and Avicenna, overnight became our nemesis, and the face of Islam in the United States came not from its prophet or one of its many renowned children, but from Islam’s greatest thief, Osama Bin Laden.

As these years have passed, I am grateful that I have had the opportunity to learn the truth about Islam and its adherents, and to have learned much more about myself along the way.  I have learned that the messages worth holding on to are those which come from love, and those which were made to build upon that love.  Branding a faith with more than a billion adherents as an enemy of the world isn’t only wrong in a logical sense, but is also wrong morally, as it demonizes brothers and sisters and perpetuates a violent circle between them.

I believe the United States and its people as well as the world’s Muslims are, for the most part, on the right track in building bridges between our not-so-different cultures.  I can’t say for certain which lessons even my own friends and family have chosen, the path of love, forgiveness, and reconciliation, or the path of revenge which fortifies a circle of death, but I do hope that my own story might help others find what is best in them, and what is best in the people around them.  But for me at least, the lessons of these past ten years are best summed up by the words of Hafiz Shirazi:

Plant the tree of friendship for it brings boundless joy,
uproot the sapling of enmity, for it breeds countless sorrows.

Monday, September 5, 2011

The Missing Silhouette

The Missing Silhouette

Walking alone,
I noticed a couple walking
Hand in hand at dusk.
I caught the woman’s eye, and
glanced down, not wanting
to corrupt their moment
with my presence.

A streetlight over my shoulder
projected my shadow on
the pavement, illuminating
the missing silhouette,
casting a reminder of
the shadow I spent my own
loving moments with.

Casting a reminder of you.
You, who made mere summer
nights become poetry in motion.
You, who simultaneously
fill my heart to bursting
and leave me as lonesome
as a dove.

I’m not saddened or angry because
of this reminder, and I don’t
feel used or betrayed.
No, this reminder is a kind much too
heavy, this reminder is the kind
that makes my heart heave
and sigh.

-Zachary Stickney