In a previous Forbes essay, I urged the academic, private sector, and federal enterprises to banish the term “minorities” when referring to certain under-represented groups in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM). I made an argument that the term was “microaggressive” and minimized groups unintentionally. This week, I heard some refer to a particular discipline as a “soft science,” and it evoked a similar twinge of microaggression. Here’s why I argue we must retire terminology that refers to science disciplines as though they were ice cream or candy.
I know, I know. This terminology has been around forever. As I have grown older (and hopefully wiser), I have come to realize that longevity is often a measure of an inertia for the status quo rather than “right or wrong.” Traditionally, people have referred to things like physics, chemistry, astronomy, climatology, or biology as “hard” sciences. Heck, I am an atmospheric scientist so my discipline falls into the category too. From my observations, a discipline is considered a “hard” science if it is extremely mathematical, involves certain methodological approaches, or has more replicable results. Behavioral and social sciences, which might include sociology, human geography, psychology, or communication studies, have typically been called “soft” sciences.
Digging into this a bit more, I found that others have argued for this “ivory tower prehistoric” framing to be put to rest. A late 1980s analysis by Larry Hedges was entitled, “How Hard is Hard Science, How Soft is Soft Science?” He revealed many similarities among the methodologies within the disciplines as well as ways the various methodologies complement each other. A key point in his concluding section argued that social science research may not be less cumulative than physical or natural sciences. While that is an important finding, my interactions with human geographers in my Department at the University of Georgia and colleagues within emerging areas of atmospheric sciences causes me to consume even that information differently. What if it was less cumulative, does that make it less important? There are mixed methods for conducting research and trends toward interdisciplinary, cross-disciplinary, and trans-disciplinary collaborations. While debates rage on what those words actually mean, one analogy frames the question in terms of whether research or collaborations are more like a fruit salad, fruit bowl, or smoothie.
I have three degrees in meteorology/physical meteorology, but my home department at the University of Georgia is Geography. When I left NASA in 2005, there were options on the table for me at more traditional atmospheric sciences or meteorology departments. However, I was increasingly finding myself collaborating with human geographers, psychologists, or communication experts. Some of my most exciting scholarly output has come from outside of my “meteorology or climate” silo. These studies hav been at the intersections of atmospheric sciences and topics including risk, vulnerability, equity, and communication.
Those intersections, to me, are more reflective of the world that we live in today. Let’s ponder weather, my comfort zone, for a moment. Meteorological and engineering expertise are critical for developing new models, radars, satellites, and physical understanding of storm processes. Such knowledge has led to a generation of amazingly accurate weather forecasts. Yes, very accurate forecasts. People believe and perpetuate a myth that forecasts are not accurate because they tend to remember the rare bad forecast and not the more numerous good ones or they struggle with concepts like “percent chance of rain.” Having said that, a weather forecast could be perfect from a technical standpoint. However, if a person or organization did not receive the information, interpret the format of the message, or act, was it a perfect forecast? This is often root of statements like, “It came without warning” even though multiple forms of warning information likely existed. For these reasons, social science and behavioral expertise are firmly entrenched (and growing) within the American Meteorological Society (AMS), National Weather Association (NWA) or the National Weather Service. I credit grassroots efforts like the Weather and Society*Integrated Studies (WAS*IS) group for being a major catalyst on this front.
Which brings me back to this “hard” and “soft” science discussion. A 2004 blog entry at Utah State University asked, “What’s the gripe between ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ sciences? The debate rages on.” It chronicled the story of a student who wanted to transfer to a “hard sciences” department because she felt they were more important. Don’t understimate the psychological influence “hard” vs “soft” can have on a student. The blog made some valid points about certain scientists believing “their science” is the only important or rigorous discipline and becoming blinded by biases. By the way, that’s not very scientific. Candidly, many meteorologists and climate scientists have faced such biases and arrogance from other disciplinary corners, but I will save that discussion for a future essay.
I will acknowledge that this a likely a big ship to turn. Online dictionaries even have entries for terms like “soft sciences.” Here’s what I do know. The generational challenges facing society today like global pandemics, climate change, food insecurity, water supply, and energy generation will not be addressed in narrow disciplines. And they certainly will not be addressed from a position of hubris either. Humility will be required as well as a mutual respect for all scholarly disciplines.
Source: https://www.forbes.com/sites/marshallshepherd/2022/08/17/its-time-to-retire-the-terms-hard-and-soft-science/