The article “What’s Normal?” by Jerome Goodman in The New Yorker on April 9, 2007 opens a discussion of Alan Garfinkel’s Forms of Explanation: Rethinking the Questions in Social Theory. It is interesting to predict how Garfinkel would react to the information presented in the article.
Goodman writes on bipolar disorder in children, examining its controversial place in current psychology and how this place of conflict has developed. He explains the difficulties in identifying the disorder in children—- children are generally more unruly and harder to read from the ages of infancy to preteen than from adolescence through adulthood.
Because of this, for a long time, bipolar disorder was not considered for children, and many children of the late 80’s and 90’s who had behavioral problems were diagnosed with ADD or ADHD and then were labeled with bipolar disorder in adolescence. The question raised by this trend is whether or not so many children actually had ADHD or if they actually faced bipolar disorder from youth.
Depending on the psychologist, the willingness to accept a child case of bipolar disorder as legitimate varies. Some endorse the possibility, others refute it; some diagnose it, some refuse. Goodman points out that there are major discrepancies in psychology as a whole due to this conflict.
In terms of Garfinkel, there is a pertinent discussion. Garfinkel would raise questions not having to do with psychology specifically; he would hope to find exactly the right questions to ask for a clear understanding of why a child is suffering or behaving in a certain way. He would not be so concerned with revolutionizing psychology or the standards of bipolar disorder, but with examining a case thoroughly enough to find accurate explanations.
Garfinkel would most likely introduce the problem of defining bipolar disorder as part of its explanatory frame. Because Garfinkel encourages questioning like, “…there are nine planets. Why is this so?” (7), one might expect him to ask something like, “These are the symptoms of bipolar disorder. Why is this so?”
Of course, as Garfinkel goes on to say on page 7 about the nine planets, "It turns out that there is no nontrivial explanation. Modern science rejects the idea pf explaining that sort of thing, except by the trivial statement that that is how many there turned out to be." Similarly, modern science explains the symptoms of bipolar disorder as symptoms because they have been chosen as the explanatory framework of the disorder. Because these symptoms are the explanations permitted in modern science's contrast space as “the object to be explained,” (7), it becomes clear that bipolar disorder is not the issue determining whether or not someone has bipolar disorder, but the behavior indicative of the disorder.
Garfinkel explains the basis of questioning for Newtown's law of motion on page 8 in this way:
"...the "explanation" he did offer was peculiar: he said things do not need anything to keep moving, and hence that the question was mistaken. An object in motion just tends to remain in motion unless acted on by an outside force. In a certain way, this is trivial. Not as scientific advance, for it was a major scientific breakthough, but trivial as an answer to the question "Why does the object keep moving?" For it says, in effect, "It just keeps moving." Newtown rejected the question and by doing so rejected the forces that the midievals had postulated."
From this, the following becomes clear: Garfinkel would be most concerned with why the patient is the way he or she is rather than what the exact symptoms are of the disorder. Just as Garfinkel recognizes Newton's strength for rejecting questions within the contrast space of science of that time period, he might also praise the psychologists able to reorder the questioning of bipolar disorder according to the children themselves rather than their age. On top of this, sufficient explanations would only be so for Garfinkel if they directly answered why. Roundabout rationalizations would not satisfy him.
Therefore, it seems that Garfinkel would react in the following way to the conflicts facing bipolar disorder identification in children:
*If the patient, no matter the age, fit the specific framework for bipolar disorder, it seems that Garfinkel would not argue the diagnosis. If age were specific criteria under bipolar disorder as an explanatory frame, however, he might hesitate.*
WRITTEN IN REFERENCE TO:
"What's Normal?"
Jerome Goodman
The New Yorker
April 9, 2007
Forms of Explanation: Rethinking the Questions in Social Theory
Alan Garfinkel
Yale University Press
New Haven, Connecticut and London, England
1981
Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Evolution of Brain and Science
In reading Sharon Begley’s article in the April 9, 2007 edition of Newsweek, “In Our Messy Reptilian Brains,” I noticed an intelligible parallel between Johns Hopkins University professor David Linden’s description of the human brain in The Accidental Mind and Thomas Kuhn’s descriptions of the socio-scientific mindset of society in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions.
For Linden, the human mind is, “a weird agglomeration of ad hoc solutions that have accumulated throughout millions of years of evolutionary theory.” Begley elaborates on this, calling the human brain “an iPod built around an eight-track cassette player,” in that the brain takes incoherent snippets and blends them into coherent thoughts and understandings. Begley discusses sight specifically in that each time a person blinks, a short bit of experience is understood, but the brain “[fills] in the gaps of the jerky feed.” In short, the human brain is able to create a finely seamed story despite a jumpy, severed input.
To me, this is much like Kuhn’s descriptions of society’s understandings of science and the bridging from paradigm into new paradigm. Because of the cycle of normal science to crisis to revolution, the societal understanding of science becomes a somewhat historic ands streamlined narrative.
Much like the brain’s ability to smooth the jerkiness of the eye’s conception of existence, so does society amass the understandings of scientific discovery, theory, conflict, proof, and invention. Kuhn states on page 66, “After the discovery had been assimilated, scientists were able to account for a wider range of natural phenomena or to account with greater precision for some of those previously known.” Science is therefore a process which blends new ideas with the old to understand things more clearly.
This is much like Linden’s description of the brain’s ability to blend individual moments of sight into one cohesive understanding. Each new piece adds onto those of the past.
However, Kuhn also insists upon contextual understandings of science in that textbooks fall short of providing an accurate depiction of science as a construction over time because they only focus on arrival points rather than examining the conflicts and revolutions and moments of normal science that led to “facts.” In the same way, it seems that Linden would encourage society to look at the human brain as a piece which has had a past and development rather than strictly defining in its modern state. Science blends in its development, just as the brain blends human understanding and continues to develop itself.
Perhaps, after reading both “In Our Messy Reptilian Brains” and The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, it seems relevant to say that as we evolve, so does knowledge.
WRITTEN IN REFERENCE TO:
"In Our Messy Reptilian Brains"
Sharon Begley
Newsweek
April 9, 2007
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions
Thomas S. Kuhn
The University of Chicago Press
Chicago, Illinois and London, England
1962, 1970, 1996
For Linden, the human mind is, “a weird agglomeration of ad hoc solutions that have accumulated throughout millions of years of evolutionary theory.” Begley elaborates on this, calling the human brain “an iPod built around an eight-track cassette player,” in that the brain takes incoherent snippets and blends them into coherent thoughts and understandings. Begley discusses sight specifically in that each time a person blinks, a short bit of experience is understood, but the brain “[fills] in the gaps of the jerky feed.” In short, the human brain is able to create a finely seamed story despite a jumpy, severed input.
To me, this is much like Kuhn’s descriptions of society’s understandings of science and the bridging from paradigm into new paradigm. Because of the cycle of normal science to crisis to revolution, the societal understanding of science becomes a somewhat historic ands streamlined narrative.
Much like the brain’s ability to smooth the jerkiness of the eye’s conception of existence, so does society amass the understandings of scientific discovery, theory, conflict, proof, and invention. Kuhn states on page 66, “After the discovery had been assimilated, scientists were able to account for a wider range of natural phenomena or to account with greater precision for some of those previously known.” Science is therefore a process which blends new ideas with the old to understand things more clearly.
This is much like Linden’s description of the brain’s ability to blend individual moments of sight into one cohesive understanding. Each new piece adds onto those of the past.
However, Kuhn also insists upon contextual understandings of science in that textbooks fall short of providing an accurate depiction of science as a construction over time because they only focus on arrival points rather than examining the conflicts and revolutions and moments of normal science that led to “facts.” In the same way, it seems that Linden would encourage society to look at the human brain as a piece which has had a past and development rather than strictly defining in its modern state. Science blends in its development, just as the brain blends human understanding and continues to develop itself.
Perhaps, after reading both “In Our Messy Reptilian Brains” and The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, it seems relevant to say that as we evolve, so does knowledge.
WRITTEN IN REFERENCE TO:
"In Our Messy Reptilian Brains"
Sharon Begley
Newsweek
April 9, 2007
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions
Thomas S. Kuhn
The University of Chicago Press
Chicago, Illinois and London, England
1962, 1970, 1996
Debating The Genome Cancer Atlas
In “This is No Way to Cure Cancer,” by Sharon Begley in the March 26, 2007 edition of Newsweek, Begley supports the argument that a $1.5 million fund for cancer research on tumors is a bad thing because the research is based on the mutations of genomes in a tumor. Begley argues that tumors are not really the problem. Instead, she labels the real problem as metastases or “malignant cells that spread to a vital organ like the brain.”
What I find to be problematic about this idea stems from the fact that metastases originates in the mutations of tumor cells. How is researching the mutation of a tumor then not beneficial? Begley states, “Identifying all the mutations in a tumor is overkill,” but then goes on to say that the Cancer Genome Atlas is flawed because it might not be comprehensive enough. She goes on to say the following:
"It gets worse. Different parts of a tumor can have completely different mutations…Even if the research does lead to new drug cocktails, a doctor will logically choose drugs that target mutations he or she knows are there— that is, in the biopsied part of the tumor—leaving the very different mutations in nonsampled areas free to proliferate."
First Begley says that the research is far too detailed to be beneficial, and then she states that it is far too much of an overview to be beneficial. It seems that Begley poked a hole in her own argument by arguing two points.
Furthermore, how could Begley write that a tumor is “relatively unimportant?” If tumors were unimportant, doctors would not take biopsies or diagnose cancer—yes, malignant cells are the biggest problem, but these malignant cells find their homes in tumors. In fact, malignant cells mutate to be so from within the tumor.
If, as Begley puts it, “Scientists hope they can separate cancer-causing mutations from innocuous ones,” how are they not making strides in the science of mutation identification? By studying the mutations of a tumor, it seems that scientists could catch the signs of malignant mutation so as to make cancerous recognition quicker. If some sort of drug could be developed to prevent this mutation from occurring, perhaps cancer research would be bettered.
Understandably, the issues of funding are relevant to all science. Even Latour addresses the issue in Chapter 4 of Science in Action. Of course, Latour sounds quite enthusiastic about funding outside of the military-industrial complex because it is much more rare and needed. This makes sense insofar as this type of support is rare. Using Latour's graph of "U.S. Federal obligations for research and development in constant 1972 dollars," he answers the question, "What sort of topics drain so much taxpayer's money into industry and the universities?" (171). National Defense held $8 billion to its name, while General Science had under $2 billion, and Health held just about $2 billion. Latour would be grateful for the Genome Atlas research in that it is a part of General Science and Health research. That is not to say that researchers should be grateful for any research done, but that the fact it is being done is a good thing.
This argument follows that if scientists have a better way of isolating the problems of cancer, then they should propose a research project and attempt to take funding away from the Cancer Genome Atlas. In the meantime, be happy that $1.5 million is available to people at all.
WRITTEN IN REFERENCE TO:
“This is No Way to Cure Cancer”
Sharon Begley
Newsweek
March 26, 2007
"Science in Action"
Bruno Latour
Harvard University Press
Cambridge, Massachusetts
1987
What I find to be problematic about this idea stems from the fact that metastases originates in the mutations of tumor cells. How is researching the mutation of a tumor then not beneficial? Begley states, “Identifying all the mutations in a tumor is overkill,” but then goes on to say that the Cancer Genome Atlas is flawed because it might not be comprehensive enough. She goes on to say the following:
"It gets worse. Different parts of a tumor can have completely different mutations…Even if the research does lead to new drug cocktails, a doctor will logically choose drugs that target mutations he or she knows are there— that is, in the biopsied part of the tumor—leaving the very different mutations in nonsampled areas free to proliferate."
First Begley says that the research is far too detailed to be beneficial, and then she states that it is far too much of an overview to be beneficial. It seems that Begley poked a hole in her own argument by arguing two points.
Furthermore, how could Begley write that a tumor is “relatively unimportant?” If tumors were unimportant, doctors would not take biopsies or diagnose cancer—yes, malignant cells are the biggest problem, but these malignant cells find their homes in tumors. In fact, malignant cells mutate to be so from within the tumor.
If, as Begley puts it, “Scientists hope they can separate cancer-causing mutations from innocuous ones,” how are they not making strides in the science of mutation identification? By studying the mutations of a tumor, it seems that scientists could catch the signs of malignant mutation so as to make cancerous recognition quicker. If some sort of drug could be developed to prevent this mutation from occurring, perhaps cancer research would be bettered.
Understandably, the issues of funding are relevant to all science. Even Latour addresses the issue in Chapter 4 of Science in Action. Of course, Latour sounds quite enthusiastic about funding outside of the military-industrial complex because it is much more rare and needed. This makes sense insofar as this type of support is rare. Using Latour's graph of "U.S. Federal obligations for research and development in constant 1972 dollars," he answers the question, "What sort of topics drain so much taxpayer's money into industry and the universities?" (171). National Defense held $8 billion to its name, while General Science had under $2 billion, and Health held just about $2 billion. Latour would be grateful for the Genome Atlas research in that it is a part of General Science and Health research. That is not to say that researchers should be grateful for any research done, but that the fact it is being done is a good thing.
This argument follows that if scientists have a better way of isolating the problems of cancer, then they should propose a research project and attempt to take funding away from the Cancer Genome Atlas. In the meantime, be happy that $1.5 million is available to people at all.
WRITTEN IN REFERENCE TO:
“This is No Way to Cure Cancer”
Sharon Begley
Newsweek
March 26, 2007
"Science in Action"
Bruno Latour
Harvard University Press
Cambridge, Massachusetts
1987
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
