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Richard Feynman - CARGO CULT SCIENCE
 
 
 Adapted from the Caltech commencement address given in 1974.
 
 During the Middle Ages there were all kinds of crazy ideas, such
 as that a piece of rhinoceros horn would increase potency. Then a
 method was discovered for separating the ideas--which was to try
 one to see if it worked, and if it didn't work, to eliminate it.
 This method became organized, of course, into science. And it
 developed very well, so that we are now in the scientific age. It
 is such a scientific age, in fact that we have difficulty in
 understanding how witch doctors could ever have existed, when
 nothing that they proposed ever really worked--or very little of
 it did.
 
 But even today I meet lots of people who sooner or later get me
 into a conversation about UFOS, or astrology, or some form of
 mysticism, expanded consciousness, new types of awareness, ESP, and
 so forth. And I've concluded that it's not a scientific world.
 
 Most people believe so many wonderful things that I decided to
 investigate why they did. And what has been referred to as my
 curiosity for investigation has landed me in a difficulty where I
 found so much junk that I'm overwhelmed. First I started out by
 investigating various ideas of mysticism, and mystic experiences.
 I went into isolation tanks and got many hours of hallucinations,
 so I know something about that. Then I went to Esalen, which is a
 hotbed of this kind of thought (it's a wonderful place; you should
 go visit there). Then I became overwhelmed. I didn't realize how
 much there was.
 
 At Esalen there are some large baths fed by hot springs situated
 on a ledge about thirty feet above the ocean. One of my most
 pleasurable experiences has been to sit in one of those baths and
 watch the waves crashing onto the rocky shore below, to gaze into
 the clear blue sky above, and to study a beautiful nude as she
 quietly appears and settles into the bath with me.
 
 One time I sat down in a bath where there was a beautiful girl
 sitting with a guy who didn't seem to know her. Right away I began
 thinking, "Gee! How am I gonna get started talking to this
 beautiful nude babe?"
 
 I'm trying to figure out what to say, when the guy says to her,
 I'm, uh, studying massage. Could I practice on you?"
 
 "Sure," she says. They get out of the bath and she lies down on a
 massage table nearby.
 
 I think to myself, "What a nifty line! I can never think of
 anything like that!" He starts to rub her big toe. "I think I feel
 it, "he says. "I feel a kind of dent--is that the pituitary?"
 
 I blurt out, "You're a helluva long way from the pituitary, man!"
 
 They looked at me, horrified--I had blown my cover--and said, "It's
 reflexology!"
 
 I quickly closed my eyes and appeared to be meditating.
 
 That's just an example of the kind of things that overwhelm me. I
 also looked into extrasensory perception and PSI phenomena, and the
 latest craze there was Uri Geller, a man who is supposed to be able
 to bend keys by rubbing them with his finger. So I went to his
 hotel room, on his invitation, to see a demonstration of both
 mindreading and bending keys. He didn't do any mindreading that
 succeeded; nobody can read my mind, I guess. And my boy held a key
 and Geller rubbed it, and nothing happened. Then he told us it
 works better under water, and so you can picture all of us standing
 in the bathroom with the water turned on and the key under it, and
 him rubbing the key with his finger. Nothing happened. So I was
 unable to investigate that phenomenon.
 
 But then I began to think, what else is there that we believe? (And
 I thought then about the witch doctors, and how easy it would have
 been to cheek on them by noticing that nothing really worked.) So
 I found things that even more people believe, such as that we have
 some knowledge of how to educate. There are big schools of reading
 methods and mathematics methods, and so forth, but if you notice,
 you'll see the reading scores keep going down--or hardly going up
 in spite of the fact that we continually use these same people to
 improve the methods. There's a witch doctor remedy that doesn't
 work. It ought to be looked into; how do they know that their
 method should work? Another example is how to treat criminals. We
 obviously have made no progress--lots of theory, but no progress--
 in decreasing the amount of crime by the method that we use to
 handle criminals.
 
 Yet these things are said to be scientific. We study them. And I
 think ordinary people with commonsense ideas are intimidated by
 this pseudoscience. A teacher who has some good idea of how to
 teach her children to read is forced by the school system to do it
 some other way--or is even fooled by the school system into
 thinking that her method is not necessarily a good one. Or a parent
 of bad boys, after disciplining them in one way or another, feels
 guilty for the rest of her life because she didn't do "the right
 thing," according to the experts.
 
 So we really ought to look into theories that don't work, and
 science that isn't science.
 
 I think the educational and psychological studies I mentioned are
 examples of what I would like to call cargo cult science. In the
 South Seas there is a cargo cult of people. During the war they saw
 airplanes land with lots of good materials, and they want the same
 thing to happen now. So they've arranged to imitate things like
 runways, to put fires along the sides of the runways, to make a
 wooden hut for a man to sit in, with two wooden pieces on his head
 like headphones and bars of bamboo sticking out like antennas--he's
 the controller--and they wait for the airplanes to land. They're
 doing everything right. The form is perfect. It looks exactly the
 way it looked before. But it doesn't work. No airplanes land. So
 I call these things cargo cult science, because they follow all the
 apparent precepts and forms of scientific investigation, but
 they're missing something essential, because the planes don't land.
 
 Now it behooves me, of course, to tell you what they're missing.
 But it would be just about as difficult to explain to the South Sea
 Islanders how they have to arrange things so that they get some
 wealth in their system. It is not something simple like telling
 them how to improve the shapes of the earphones. But there is one
 feature I notice that is generally missing in cargo cult science.
 That is the idea that we all hope you have learned in studying
 science in school--we never explicitly say what this is, but just
 hope that you catch on by all the examples of scientific
 investigation. It is interesting, therefore, to bring it out now
 and speak of it explicitly. It's a kind of scientific integrity,
 a principle of scientific thought that corresponds to a kind of
 utter honesty--a kind of leaning over backwards. For example, if
 you're doing an experiment, you should report everything that you
 think might make it invalid--not only what you think is right about
 it: other causes that could possibly explain your results; and
 things you thought of that you've eliminated by some other
 experiment, and how they worked--to make sure the other fellow can
 tell they have been eliminated.
 
 Details that could throw doubt on your interpretation must be
 given, if you know them. You must do the best you can--if you know
 anything at all wrong, or possibly wrong--to explain it. If you
 make a theory, for example, and advertise it, or put it out, then
 you must also put down all the facts that disagree with it, as well
 as those that agree with it. There is also a more subtle problem.
 When you have put a lot of ideas together to make an elaborate
 theory, you want to make sure, when explaining what it fits, that
 those things it fits are not just the things that gave you the idea
 for the theory; but that the finished theory makes something else
 come out right, in addition.
 
 In summary, the idea is to try to give all of the information to
 help others to judge the value of your contribution; not just the
 information that leads to judgment in one particular direction or
 another.
 
 The easiest way to explain this idea is to contrast it, for
 example, with advertising. Last night I heard that Wesson oil
 doesn't soak through food. Well, that's true. It's not dishonest;
 but the thing I'm talking about is not just a matter of not being
 dishonest, it's a matter of scientific integrity, which is another
 level. The fact that should be added to that advertising statement
 is that no oils soak through food, if operated at a certain
 temperature. If operated at another temperature, they all will--
 including Wesson oil. So it's the implication which has been
 conveyed, not the fact, which is true, and the difference is what
 we have to deal with.
 
 We've learned from experience that the truth will come out. Other
 experimenters will repeat your experiment and find out whether you
 were wrong or right. Nature's phenomena will agree or they'll
 disagree with your theory. And, although you may gain some
 temporary fame and excitement, you will not gain a good reputation
 as a scientist if you haven't tried to be very careful in this kind
 of work. And it's this type of integrity, this kind of care not to
 fool yourself, that is missing to a large extent in much of the
 research in cargo cult science.
 
 A great deal of their difficulty is, of course, the difficulty of
 the subject and the inapplicability of the scientific method to the
 subject.  Nevertheless it should be remarked that this is not the
 only difficulty.  That's why the planes didn't land--but they don't
 land.
 
 We have learned a lot from experience about how to handle some of
 the ways we fool ourselves. One example: Millikan measured the
 charge on an electron by an experiment with falling oil drops, and
 got an answer which we now know not to be quite right. It's a
 little bit off, because he had the incorrect value for the
 viscosity of air. It's interesting to look at the history of
 measurements of the charge of the electron, after Millikan. If you
 plot them as a function of time, you find that one is a little
 bigger than Millikan's, and the next one's a little bit bigger than
 that, and the next one's a little bit bigger than that, until
 finally they settle down to a number which is higher.
 
 Why didn't they discover that the new number was higher right away?
 It's a thing that scientists are ashamed of--this history--because
 it's apparent that people did things like this: When they got a
 number that was too high above Millikan's, they thought something
 must be wrong--and they would look for and find a reason why
 something might be wrong. When they got a number closer to
 Millikan's value they didn't look so hard. And so they eliminated
 the numbers that were too far off, and did other things like that.
 We've learned those tricks nowadays, and now we don't have that
 kind of a disease.
 
 But this long history of learning how not to fool ourselves--of
 having utter scientific integrity--is, I'm sorry to say, something
 that we haven't specifically included in any particular course that
 I know of. We just hope you've caught on by osmosis.
 
 The first principle is that you must not fool yourself--and you are
 the easiest person to fool. So you have to be very careful about
 that. After you've not fooled yourself, it's easy not to fool other
 scientists. You just have to be honest in a conventional way after
 that.
 
 I would like to add something that's not essential to the science,
 but something I kind of believe, which is that you should not fool
 the layman when you're talking as a scientist. I am not trying to
 tell you what to do about cheating on your wife, or fooling your
 girlfriend, or something like that, when you're not trying to be
 a scientist, but just trying to be an ordinary human being. We'll
 leave those problems up to you and your rabbi. I'm talking about
 a specific, extra type of integrity that is not lying, but bending
 over backwards to show how you are maybe wrong, that you ought to
 have when acting as a scientist. And this is our responsibility as
 scientists, certainly to other scientists, and I think to laymen.
 
 For example, I was a little surprised when I was talking to a
 friend who was going to go on the radio. He does work on cosmology
 and astronomy, and he wondered how he would explain what the
 applications of this work were. "Well," I said, "there aren't any."
 He said, "Yes, but then we won't get support for more research of
 this kind." I think that's kind of dishonest. If you're
 representing yourself as a scientist, then you should explain to
 the layman what you're doing--and if they don't want to support you
 under those circumstances, then that's their decision.
 
 One example of the principle is this: If you've made up your mind
 to test a theory, or you want to explain some idea, you should
 always decide to publish it whichever way it comes out. If we only
 publish results of a certain kind, we can make the argument look
 good. We must publish both kinds of results.
 
 I say that's also important in giving certain types of government
 advice. Supposing a senator asked you for advice about whether
 drilling a hole should be done in his state; and you decide it
 would be better in some other state. If you don't publish such a
 result, it seems to me you're not giving scientific advice. You're
 being used. If your answer happens to come out in the direction the
 government or the politicians like, they can use it as an argument
 in their favor; if it comes out the other way, they don't publish
 it at all. That's not giving scientific advice.
 
 Other kinds of errors are more characteristic of poor science. When
 I was at Cornell, I often talked to the people in the psychology
 department. One of the students told me she wanted to do an
 experiment that went something like this--it had been found by
 others that under certain circumstances, X, rats did something, A.
 She was curious as to whether, if she changed the circumstances to
 Y, they would still do A. So her proposal was to do the experiment
 under circumstances Y and see if they still did A.
 
 I explained to her that it was necessary first to repeat in her
 laboratory the experiment of the other person--to do it under
 condition X to see if she could also get result A, and then change
 to Y and see if A changed. Then she would know that the real
 difference was the thing she thought she had under control.
 
 She was very delighted with this new idea, and went to her
 professor. And his reply was, no, you cannot do that, because the
 experiment has already been done and you would be wasting time.
 This was in about 1947 or so, and it seems to have been the general
 policy then to not try to repeat psychological experiments, but
 only to change the conditions and see what happens.
 
 Nowadays there's a certain danger of the same thing happening, even
 in the famous (?) field of physics. I was shocked to hear of an
 experiment done at the big accelerator at the National Accelerator
 Laboratory, where a person used deuterium. In order to compare his
 heavy hydrogen results to what might happen with light hydrogen"
 he had to use data from someone else's experiment on light
 hydrogen, which was done on different apparatus. When asked why,
 he said it was because he couldn't get time on the program (because
 there's so little time and it's such expensive apparatus) to do the
 experiment with light hydrogen on this apparatus because there
 wouldn't be any new result. And so the men in charge of programs
 at NAL are so anxious for new results, in order to get more money
 to keep the thing going for public relations purposes, they are
 destroying--possibly--the value of the experiments themselves,
 which is the whole purpose of the thing. It is often hard for the
 experimenters there to complete their work as their scientific
 integrity demands.
 
 All experiments in psychology are not of this type, however. For
 example, there have been many experiments running rats through all
 kinds of mazes, and so on--with little clear result. But in 1937
 a man named Young did a very interesting one. He had a long
 corridor with doors all along one side where the rats came in, and
 doors along the other side where the food was. He wanted to see if
 he could train the rats to go in at the third door down from
 wherever he started them off. No. The rats went immediately to the
 door where the food had been the time before.
 
 The question was, how did the rats know, because the corridor was
 so beautifully built and so uniform, that this was the same door
 as before? Obviously there was something about the door that was
 different from the other doors. So he painted the doors very
 carefully, arranging the textures on the faces of the doors exactly
 the same. Still the rats could tell. Then he thought maybe the rats
 were smelling the food, so he used chemicals to change the smell
 after each run. Still the rats could tell. Then he realized the
 rats might be able to tell by seeing the lights and the arrangement
 in the laboratory like any commonsense person. So he covered the
 corridor, and still the rats could tell.
 
 He finally found that they could tell by the way the floor sounded
 when they ran over it. And he could only fix that by putting his
 corridor in sand. So he covered one after another of all possible
 clues and finally was able to fool the rats so that they had to
 learn to go in the third door. If he relaxed any of his conditions,
 the rats could tell.
 
 Now, from a scientific standpoint, that is an A-number-one
 experiment. That is the experiment that makes rat-running
 experiments sensible, because it uncovers the clues that the rat
 is really using--not what you think it's using. And that is the
 experiment that tells exactly what conditions you have to use in
 order to be careful and control everything in an experiment with
 rat-running.
 
 I looked into the subsequent history of this research. The next
 experiment, and the one after that, never referred to Mr. Young.
 They never used any of his criteria of putting the corridor on
 sand, or being very careful. They just went right on running rats
 in the same old way, and paid no attention to the great discoveries
 of Mr. Young, and his papers are not referred to, because he didn't
 discover anything about the rats. In fact, he discovered all the
 things you have to do to discover something about rats. But not
 paying attention to experiments like that is a characteristic of
 cargo cult science.
 
 Another example is the ESP experiments of Mr. Rhine, and other
 people. As various people have made criticisms--and they themselves
 have made criticisms of their own experiments--they improve the
 techniques so that the effects are smaller, and smaller, and
 smaller until they gradually disappear. All the parapsychologists
 are looking for some experiment that can be repeated--that you can
 do again and get the same effect--statistically, even. They run a
 million rats no, it's people this time they do a lot of things and
 get a certain statistical effect. Next time they try it they don't
 get it any more. And now you find a man saying that it is an
 irrelevant demand to expect a repeatable experiment. This is
 science?
 
 This man also speaks about a new institution, in a talk in which
 he was resigning as Director of the Institute of Parapsychology.
 And, in telling people what to do next, he says that one of the
 things they have to do is be sure they only train students who have
 shown their ability to get PSI results to an acceptable extent--
 not to waste their time on those ambitious and interested students
 who get only chance results. It is very dangerous to have such a
 policy in teaching--to teach students only how to get certain
 results, rather than how to do an experiment with scientific
 integrity.
 
 So I have just one wish for you--the good luck to be somewhere
 where you are free to maintain the kind of integrity I have
 described, and where you do not feel forced by a need to maintain
 your position in the organization, or financial support, or so on,
 to lose your integrity. May you have that freedom.
 
 
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