
Critical Mass: Is science failing, or are we failing science?
That work, by Russell Funk of the University of Minnesota and his coworkers, prompted a wave of hand-wringing. What's gone wrong with science? And can we justify expanding science budgets if there are diminishing returns? But Funk's claims also proved controversial, not least because it is very hard to know how to measure the disruptive impact of research. Some might be tempted to say: hello, what about AI? There can hardly have been a more disruptive technology, for better or worse, in the past few decades, as witnessed by the Nobel prizes in both physics and chemistry awarded last year to work in that field.
Is science getting harder? Did the 20th century strip the tree of knowledge of all its low-hanging fruit – quantum and nuclear physics, say, or the structure of DNA – to leave the answers to remaining scientific questions harder to reach? That seemed to be the implication of a paper published two years ago that claimed to show that the rate of truly 'disruptive' discoveries – ones that transform a field and open up new possibilities for technologies and economic growth – declined from the mid-1940s to 2010. Despite increases in science funding and the number of researchers, we seem now to be in an age of incremental advances.
But as a recent news analysis in Nature (which also published Funk's paper) shows, the impression that groundbreaking research is becoming more rare is widely shared in the research community. And if that's right, the discovery drought could slow down economic growth. So we had better understand if the trend is real, and if so, what's behind it.
Funk and colleagues used a rather technical method to gauge a paper's (or a patent's) disruptiveness, which was connected to the citations of earlier work that it includes. The idea is that, if the paper transforms its field, it renders those citations obsolete by establishing a new ground zero, so that they won't feature much in subsequent publications.
But is that a good metric for disruptiveness? Critics pointed out that citation practices changed a lot over the course of the last century: older papers had fewer. What's more, the 2021 paper that used AI to predict the structures of protein molecules, which won the 2024 chemistry Nobel, would on this measure be rated low in disruptiveness – which surely can't be right, can it? The arguments are all rather complicated, because so is the question: there's no way we can measure something like this with the certainty of measuring an object's temperature or mass.
Surprisingly, however, the debate hasn't given much consideration to what history tells us. For one thing, over the long term science hardly looks like a steady accumulation of earth-shattering discoveries. Even though the so-called scientific revolution in the 17th century reset the way a lot of science was done, chemistry (to name one discipline) experienced a century of tentative steps until Antoine Lavoisier replaced the theory of phlogiston with his oxygen theory in the 1780s and 90s. And the economic growth produced by the chemical dye industry of the late 19th century didn't really come from a transformative discovery in understanding, but arose from a complex interplay between chemical research and market demand stimulated by industrialisation.
There have been plenty of occasions when scientists have decided that all the big discoveries have been made. Famously, Lord Kelvin was said to have proclaimed as much for physics, just years before Max Planck initiated quantum theory and Einstein unveiled the theory of relativity. The Kelvin story is apocryphal, but others expressed similar sentiments that the future of physics was just about incremental improvements in accuracy.
Besides, not all transformative science affects economic growth: that can hardly be said for the proof of the Big Bang (circa 1965), the discovery of dark energy (1998) and the discovery of the Higgs boson (2012). Despite all this, however, the question is important. It's conceivable that science is simply facing harder challenges now, but it's possible, too, that there are worsening problems in how it is conducted. Young researchers have less incentive to take risks, and they are also encouraged to carve it into publishable slices of diminishing size and impact. And it has long been noted that review panels for funding agencies are conservative, favouring the safe but mediocre. Academic scientists complain of being too burdened by admin and grant-chasing to actually do research. Perhaps the problem is not that all the easy science has been done, but that it's getting harder to do it at all.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Telegraph
8 hours ago
- Telegraph
Who do we think we are, anyway? DNA testing is rewriting national histories
Family histories are notoriously prone to works of artistic falsehood. Shows like Who Do You Think You Are? work by showing people what lies behind half-remembered stories and occasional dubious paternity cases. National stories, however, are solid. We might be uncertain about our precise roots as individuals, but we know who we are as a nation. At least, that's what I thought. But just as cheap DNA testing has blown up fondly-held family tales – none of my ancestors were Huguenot, and one ancestor in Cork may have had to explain to Saint Peter how the Iberian ended up in my genome – it's also rewriting how we think about history. Some stories turn out to be true. King Alfred succeeded in fighting back the Danish Vikings, who left 'no obvious genetic signature'. Neither, for that matter, did the Romans: the white English as an ethnic group are essentially German, and the Welsh really are closer to the pre-Saxon people of Britain than everyone else. Other results are less expected. Ashkenazi Jews draw part of their ancestry from Levantine populations, but may draw even more from Italy. The people who built Stonehenge were replaced by the people of the Beaker culture almost entirely, leaving their fate an unpleasant mystery, and raising the uncomfortable thought that prehistory may have been a bloodier place than we like to think. And while black Americans can learn more about their African roots, they also learn about their European heritage; the descendants of slaves are also the descendants of slave-owners. It's fascinating, and it's a delight and a privilege to live in a time where we can lift some of the veil over our collective history to catch a distant glimpse of the people who made us. But does it have any real world impact? Perhaps not. I can't see the Balkans engaging in a festival of brotherly unity on realising Serbs and Croats are pretty much the same people. Even leaving aside methodological disputes – I could have written this piece claiming the English are actually Danes – there's a reason we forgot these population movements. The point of national myths isn't that they're true, but that they give us something to cohere around. They tell us who we are and how we relate to each other with such strength that other ties are forgotten. DNA may rewrite ancient history, but for better or worse – the present is here to stay.


The Independent
a day ago
- The Independent
Remains found washed up on Jersey shore identified as missing 19th-century boat captain
A decades-old cold case at the Jersey Shore has been cracked after experts confirmed that skeletal remains found on three beaches belong to a 19th-century ship captain. Undergraduate student researchers at Ramapo College of New Jersey used advanced DNA technology to determine that bones from a leg, arm and fragments of a cranium all belonged to Captain Henry Goodsell - who died at sea 181 years ago at age 29. The bones were found separately on Ocean City, Margate and Longport beaches between 1995 and 2013. New Jersey State Police turned them over to researchers at the college's Investigative Genetic Genealogy Center last year. "We kind of kept going back and forth between, are they historic? Are they not historic?' NJSP Forensic Anthropologist Dr. Anna Delaney told NBC New York. "This is absolutely amazing because after all of this time, Henry has his name." While examining New Jersey shipwreck records, students uncovered newspaper articles from December 20 and 24, 1844. They learned that the Oriental, captained Goodsell, was carrying five crew members and 60 tons of marble to Philadelphia for Girard College when it sank near Brigantine Shoal in 1844, killing everyone on board. Researchers traced Goodsell's genetic relatives back to the 1600s and built family trees, revealing ancestral ties to Connecticut. They eventually located Goodsell's great-great-granddaughter in Maryland, whose DNA sample confirmed the captain's identity. Goodsell's family said they do not want his remains, so they will stay at a state repository indefinitely. 'Identifying human remains is one of the most solemn and challenging responsibilities law enforcement is charged with,' said Chief of County Detectives Patrick Snyder at the Atlantic County Prosecutor's Office in a news release. 'Law enforcement works hard knowing that behind every case is a promise: that no one will be forgotten, and that we will pursue the truth until families have the answers they deserve,' he added.


The Independent
a day ago
- The Independent
AP PHOTOS: Cicadas swarm parts of US as the screaming insects emerge in Brood XIV's 17-year cycle
Another cicada invasion is here. The large Brood XIV, which emerges every 17 years, is making for a spectacular natural event as billions of periodical cicadas emerge across parts of the Eastern U.S., including in Georgia, southern Ohio, Kentucky, Cape Cod in Massachusetts, and Long Island, New York. When spring warms the soil to 64 degrees Fahrenheit (about 18 degrees Celsius), these cicada nymphs dig their way up to the surface after their long development period. On the right night, usually after a warm spring rain, near trees showing cicada pilot holes and chimneys, they will emerge — so many that they can be heard crunching through the grass to climb up trees, plants, people or any vertical surface. There is a forceful quality about it. Once they find footing, they begin the molting process. They shed their nymphal skin, emerging soft, vulnerable and pale yellow. They have two large red eyes on the sides of the head, three small, jewellike eyes called ocelli in the center, and gossamer wings. In a few hours, their bodies harden and darken, and they fly up to the treetops. Then the screaming begins — the loud buzzing, screaming sound males make when they are looking for a mate. It leaves ears ringing. Throughout this process, cicadas serve as a source of protein for both wildlife and humans. They survive by sheer numbers. After mating, females lay eggs in tree branches and die shortly after. The hatched tiny nymphs fall and burrow into the ground, and the cycle begins again. Cicadas are part of the magic of spring when the yellow and purple irises are blooming, and the green is new and vivid. The cicada show takes place in every light of the day and the dark of night. The pull is the power and beauty of nature and time. ___ This is a photo gallery curated by AP photo editors.