René Descartes: Inhibitor of Serendipity

The modern scientific method has very deep roots based in the Cartesian school of thought that emphasizes reasoning above all else. Think back to high school when you learned about the scientific method. First you attempt to develop an explanation (reasoning) for some observed phenomena by devising a hypothesis, which you then test by carefully crafting an experiment. Once you carry out the experiment, you analyze the collected data in order to conclude (reason) whether or not your hypothesis was accurate and report your results.

However, the scientific method that we all grew up with is based on reasoning observed phenomena, meaning that new developments in science must arise from previous developments in science (supported by Latour’s affirmative response to the “is science cumulative?” question). The cumulative nature of scientific discovery means that the scientific process that we learned about as kids is really a circle, thus joining the numerous other circular paths we’ve seen in this class (e.g., circulating reference and God-Scripture circular reasoning in the Letter of Dedication to the Meditations on the First Philosophy).

While countless discoveries and insights have been made using this model of the scientific method, it does not provide a pathway for observing and developing completely new phenomena. It locks us in a circle where we can only learn more about things we already know. Put another way, it does not allow for serendipity--it does not allow for those discoveries that we would have never been able to stumble upon via the Cartesian-based scientific method. Teflon, penicillin, aspartame, and even the lowly Post-It Note were all serendipitous discoveries. There was no reason-based hypothesis behind their discovery. In my opinion, serendipity is where truly powerful and practical science resides. As one of the speakers in the Department of Chemistry’s Seminar Series put it: wouldn’t it be nice if you could go out for a coffee, say “I think I’ll have some serendipity today,” and then come back to your lab and make a serendipitous discovery?”

In order to achieve something like this, we would have to modify our current scientific method. Last year, the aforementioned seminar speaker developed a technique dubbed “accelerated serendipity” that seeks to replace the reason-driven hypothesis stage with a different stage that allows for serendipitous discovery. To put it bluntly, he uses a robot that mixes together random chemicals, currently believed to not react with each other, in a process that is repeated with different combinations around 1,000 times a day. With that sheer number of trials per day, chances tell us that an unexpected reaction will happen in at least one of those combinations.

When I first heard of accelerated serendipity, I was completely horrified. It destroyed the Cartesian paradigm that I had so lovingly grown up with, leaving science to some cold, inhuman robot. However, now that I’m thinking about it more, accelerated serendipity is just a way of complimenting the Cartesian school of thought by providing a methodical way of accessing something previously inaccessible. And I like that.