Science and wisdom

Theology Today, Jul 2001 by Moltmann, Jurgen

This frame of reference for knowledge of the world affects the presupposition, the goal and the "broad place" of the knowable world, but not the methods by which we arrive at secure knowledge. There Rene Descartes's principle applies: "De omnibus dubitandum est" (everything must be doubted). But this is "methodic" doubt, oriented toward results and having nothing to do with existential despair over the futility of the world, humanity, or ourselves. The very frames of reference that we have named invite us to this methodic doubt, because they inspire confidence that the results of knowing will prevail, contrary to the doubt. Because there is such a thing as assured knowledge, doubt must exclude all sham solutions.

WISDOM AND THE ETHICS OF SCIENCES

The fear of God makes us wise in dealing with the knowledge that has been acquired. This brings into play, parallel to scientific ethics, ethics in the technological handling of scientific findings. It is wise to distinguish between good and evil. It is wise to make out of what we know only that which furthers life and not to further whatever disseminates death. But here we come up against problems between pure research and the applied sciences and in the technological application of discoveries in peace and war.

The first possible conflict-the conflict between pure and applied science-is illustrated by the dilemma in which Albert Einstein involuntarily found himself. His discovery of the principle of relativity in 1907 was, he confessed, "the happiest thought in my life." Its proof through the predicted motion of the planet Mercury in November 1915 convinced him "that nature had spoken to him," as his biographer reports. That was pure knowledge in the literal sense, in a splendid harmony of evidence with what was already known. But then came the discovery of nuclear fission and the possibility of applying it to an atomic bomb, either by the Germans, at Hitler's orders, or by the democratic western powers-a calculated possibility that was already known quite early. Einstein made his decision in 1939, in his famous letter to President Roosevelt.

The Manhattan project began, and it led to the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945, with the death of hundreds of thousands of people in seconds. Pure knowledge and the wondering joy of discovery ended in the raw reality of the conflict of interests and the struggle for power among human beings.

The German chemist and Nobel prizewinner Fritz Haber was faced with a different dilemma. When he discovered how to isolate hydrogen from the atmosphere, he made it possible to produce artificial fertilizers in peacetime, and munitions in war. His research made the German poisongas attacks in World War I possible in 1917. His motto for solving his dilemma was a simple one: "Whom must I serve?" His answer was: "In peace, humanity; in war, the Fatherland." His love for the Fatherland, however, had its limits. When his "non-Aryan" colleagues were dismissed from his institute in 1933, he sent in his resignation.