Science Has an Imagination Problem

🍏your Sunday read 2nd March, 2025

A well-researched original piece to get you thinking.

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Image: Science Instructing Industry: Drapery Study Credits: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; Gift of Thomas Kensett, 1874; Francis Lathrop Fund, 1950

Hi Scholar,

This week’s letter explores a fundamental paradox in scientific research—one that claims to be purely objective, yet inevitably relies on subjective human faculties like imagination, creativity, and judgment. While scholars may accept this paradox without question, what happens when the general public becomes aware of it? Does revealing the human side of science strengthen trust—or does it undermine the authority of scientific knowledge altogether?

So grab a beverage and your reading glasses, let’s get thinking.

Science Has An Imagination Problem

-Written by The Critic

Our story begins with a decade-long controversy triggered by allegations of scientific fraud, known as the Baltimore Case. Thereza Imanishi-Kari was accused of fabricating primary data in a paper co-authored with Nobel Laureate David Baltimore (and four others), published in Cell, an influential biology journal. Imanishi-Kari was found not to have fabricated the data, but she was guilty of sloppy science.  

The most interesting thing about the Baltimore Case is what it reveals about how the public, and indeed many scientists themselves, think science works. Daniel Kelves, a historian of science, wrote in his commentary on the case for The New Yorker that  “judgment, insight, and imagination” are essential for “making sense of data”—and that this should not be mistaken for fabrication. It’s an interesting argument but what really caught my attention was the public’s reaction:

Educated publics and scientific researchers alike recoiled at the idea of imagination ‘polluting’ science—a domain seen as purely fact-driven, methodical, and objective:

Science, they believed, must not be touched by the fickle whims of subjective imagination.

Scientists, after all, deal with ‘facts’ given by nature, not with ‘made-up’ artifacts of the mind.

Yet, in one sense, the idea that research requires imagination, that data demands interpretation, and that analysis involves creativity to produce knowledge seemed like common sense. Science, after all, always involves the drawing of meaningful conclusions—without which, as Ernest Rutherford put it, it would be mere "stamp collecting."

At the same time, I can’t help but sympathize with the public’s reluctance to trust science when they hear that it involves subjective faculties like imagination and judgment. After all, what sets science apart from art is precisely its claim to objectivity. We trust science because it gives us facts—solid, stable, enduring truths—and it is only through objectivity that we get closer to such facts.

The idea that imagination plays a role in this process feels, to many, like a contradiction—one that unsettles the very foundation of scientific authority.

The Historical Context of the “Good science is objective” Narrative

Since the Enlightenment, scientists have warned of the dangers of subjectivity in scientific inquiry. Prejudices from ‘bad’ education, distortions caused by strong ‘passions’, and the unruly creations of imagination were seen as obstacles to scientific truth.

Imagination, in particular, was treated as a source of error. French psychologist Théodore Ribot even described the “false sciences” of astrology, alchemy, and magic as the “golden age of the creative imagination.”

In pursuit of protecting science from these threats, scientists since the 19th century institutionalized objectivity in two ways:

1. Eliminating human intervention (introducing mechanical objectivity): Machines replaced hand-drawn illustrations with photographs, observers gave way to  self-registering instruments, and judgment was made redundant with data-reduction techniques.

2. Depersonalizing scientific writing: Moving away from personal pronouns - with the ‘I’ becoming it, writing in passive instead of active voice, and standardizing written scientific communication stripped away any trace of the scientist's subjectivity.

The goal? To create solid, persistent truths that would be communicable and commensurable across centuries and continents—and, if Max Planck had his way, across planets:

This rigid pursuit of objectivity shaped more than just scientific practice—it shaped public perception of science itself. Science became synonymous with fact, stability, and certainty. Over time, imagination was stripped away from this narrative entirely.

That many people—both the public and even researchers—believe imagination to be dangerous in science did not emerge from nowhere:

Scientists themselves, in their pursuit of objectivity, laid the foundations for this belief.

The Paradox: Imagination is Suppressed, Yet It Drives Scientific Breakthroughs

And yet, despite efforts to suppress subjective influences in both scientific practice and public perception, history demonstrates the crucial role of imagination in scientific breakthroughs:

• Albert Einstein’s thought experiments, where he envisioned himself riding a beam of light, led to the development of general relativity.

• Thomas Edison’s invention of the light bulb required imagining countless possible materials for filaments, followed by systematic testing.

• Even Dolly the sheep, the first cloned mammal, was inspired by a centuries-old tale—the Monkey King’s ability to clone himself in the 16th century novel “Journey to the West.

Beyond major discoveries, imagination also remains central to everyday scientific practice. Thought experiments rely on visualization—we ‘see’ events unfold in our minds before testing them in reality. In fact, scientists may not even realize how much they depend on imagination until they engage in deeper research.

Yet, despite this reality, scientific training continues to undermine imagination. Junior researchers are taught to follow rigid protocols and standardized methods, often seeing imagination as irrelevant or even dangerous. Undergraduate courses train students to apply knowledge rather than question and rethink it.

Over time, this cultivates a scientific culture that claims to be fully objective but, in practice, constantly relies on subjective faculties like creativity and interpretation.

The Public’s Discontent: A Consequence of the Absolute Objectivity Myth

And every now and then, when the veil is lifted—as it was in the Baltimore Case—the public reacts with discontent. Their reaction is not only reasonable but warranted, because it exposes how science actually works:

This revelation contradicts the widely held narrative of objective science. The controversy was not just about alleged fraud: it was about the deep discomfort with acknowledging the human element in research.

The backlash wasn’t only about fraud, but about defending the illusion of pure objectivity.

A Civic Duty to Make Science Visible

So now I ask you, scholar—is it not our responsibility to be transparent about how science actually works? Or does such transparency only invite pseudo-science and scepticism?

If we are to reshape the narrative of science—one that retains its rigor while embracing the human faculties that are inherently productive of it—then the change must start with those who produce it. Scientists themselves must first recognize and accept this reality.

At the end of the day, this is precisely what The Scholarly Letter strives for: to make scholars more aware of the world they engage in, so they produce better scholarship. And perhaps, in doing so, we may finally move beyond the ghosts of the Baltimore Case—

toward a vision of science that is not only true to its methods but also to its makers.

If you have any questions, feedback or comments on The Scholarly Letter, drop a comment or write to us at [email protected]. We'd love to hear from you!