From Copernicus and Ptolemy to 'Science Is Real'
In the classical tradition, students learn that science is not an ideology to be defended but an exploration of truth that demands humility.
The abuse of science has become a hallmark of the 21st century, where the phrase “Science is Real” adorns yard signs, social media profiles, and bumper stickers as a sanctimonious mantra. This slogan exemplifies the manipulation of rhetoric to stifle dissent and enforce ideological conformity. By reducing the vast, complex, and often uncertain endeavor of scientific discovery to a simplistic slogan, its proponents wield it as a cudgel: disagree with our interpretation of science, and you’re dismissed as an anti-intellectual caveman. (Seemingly, those who plant a slogan sign like this in their yard are signaling this sentiment to their own neighbors.) This is not the spirit of science; this is coercion masquerading as enlightenment.
True science thrives on skepticism and rigorous questioning. Yet today, we witness a disturbing trend: dissenting voices are silenced, alternative hypotheses dismissed, and critical debates reduced to echo chambers of consensus. Coercion is not science. Censorship is not science. Faked data, fearmongering, and cherry-picked studies are not science. These are the hallmarks of an abuse of authority, not the disciplined pursuit of truth that science demands.
The classical approach to science education offers a path out of this morass by re-centering the study of science on wonder, respect, and the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake.
Consider the current state of public health debates, “climate change” discussions, or genetic engineering innovations. We’ve seen major platforms silence dissenting experts under the guise of protecting public trust (e.g., Bhattacharya, Kulldorff, Bannan). We’ve seen research funded by entities with clear conflicts of interest—corporations that benefit financially from specific outcomes or governments seeking to justify policies (e.g., The National Science Foundation, sponsors of biomedical research, pharmaceutical companies, etc.) When science becomes a tool for power, its integrity is compromised—and one might add, it’s not real. Recent scandals, such as fabricated data in major studies or the suppression of contradictory findings, underscore the fragility of public trust in science. Is it any wonder that the phrase “Science is Real” feels more like a demand for obedience than an invitation to dialogue?
The classical approach to science education rejects this dogmatic posture. It recognizes that science is not about consensus but about the careful, systematic investigation of an orderly and intelligible universe. In the classical model, science is taught not merely as a collection of technical skills or a pathway to lucrative careers in STEM fields, but as part of the innate human desire to know and understand. Students are encouraged to ask big questions—about the nature of reality, the origins of life, the principles governing the cosmos. They are invited to marvel at the stars, the phases of the moon, the creatures of the sea and sky, and the astonishing intricacies of the human body.
The classical approach to science education… recognizes that science is not about consensus but about the careful, systematic investigation of an orderly and intelligible universe.
This sense of wonder is the antidote to the cynicism bred by today’s manipulative rhetoric. In the classical tradition, students learn that science is not an ideology to be defended but an exploration of truth that demands humility. They study the engineering feats of Leonardo da Vinci, the astronomical insights of Galileo, the natural philosophy of Newton. They see that great discoveries often emerged from questioning prevailing assumptions, not conforming to them.
More importantly, students come to understand that science is part of a larger quest for knowledge, interconnected with philosophy, ethics, and even theology. The classical approach does not separate science from the broader humanistic questions that have animated inquiry for centuries: What is the nature of reality? What is the purpose of existence? What is humanity’s place in the cosmos? By grounding science in this broader context, students are less likely to see it as a mere tool for manipulation and more as a noble endeavor aimed at uncovering the mysteries of creation.
To reclaim science from its abusers, we must begin by reforming how it is taught. A classical education in science, with its emphasis on wonder, respect, and the pursuit of truth, can inoculate the next generation against the manipulative rhetoric that dominates public discourse today. By cultivating curiosity and humility, we can inspire students to approach science not as an ideology to defend but as a lifelong journey of discovery. Only then can we hope to restore integrity to a field that should unite us in awe of the universe, not divide us with slogans and fear.
Michael S. Rose, a leader in the classical education movement, is author of The Art of Being Human (Angelico) and other books. His articles have appeared in dozens of publications including The Wall Street Journal, Epoch Times, New York Newsday, National Review, and The Dallas Morning News.