Image adapted from the photo by Ulrik Slot Christensen via CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
A final look at what makes scientific thought tick
What are Hypotheses, Theories and Laws?
Science starts, much like all things, at the beginning. In the beginning, there is nothing but an idea about the universe—a question about how things work. Scientists, researchers, natural philosophers, artists, politicians, writers, and poets all begin at the same place: an idea.
To question the idea is to form a hypothesis. To test the question is to work towards a theory. To develop seemingly irrefutable proof represents an unbreakable law of our universe.
How do Hypotheses, Theories, and Laws work?
We say, “I have a theory” to mean “I think I can explain how something works, or why something does something else, or what something should do.” In scientific parlance, however, a theory is as close to being the truth as possible given the limitations of one’s understanding of how everything else works.
The theory of gravity is more than just an idea. Gravity can be tested, it can be corroborated, it can be observed. We know gravity affects every part of our universe—except for the parts where its effects are difficult to observe—and, therefore, gravity is real. However, we don’t know everything there is to know about gravity. As far as we can tell, gravity is a fundamental force in our universe, but in certain circumstances, its interactions begin to wreak havoc on our knowledge of its existence.
Theories are not rough ideas about how things work. Theories are rigorously tested ideas that produce almost identical results after countless rounds of testing. Theories are corroborated time and again, and are generally agreed to be true.
Hypotheses, in comparison, are rough ideas. Hypotheses are potential answers to questions that have yet to be sufficiently solved. Hypotheses are solutions, but they are solutions that are heavily scrutinized. In order for a hypothesis to be accepted as a theory, it must first be challenged and corroborated by a multitude of different individuals.
Finally, we have laws. Laws are more than real—they are more than just the truth. Laws are reality itself, reduced to a statement or mathematical equation that explains how the universe works. The law of universal gravitation stipulates that all particles attract one another using a force that is directly proportional to the product of their masses but also inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. There is minimal debate on this issue.
Why are Hypotheses, Theories, and Laws important?
In the early echelons of human existence, when the first members of our the species were crawling out of the primordial mud, human thought was a fragile thing. We looked to the ground and saw predators, we looked to the stars and saw infinite, and we looked at each other and understood nothing.
As we progressed, as we grew, as our species slowly became the dominant, violent, toxic, virulent, and awesome rulers of this planet, we were forced to confront the simple truth that reality did not bend to our whims. Instead, we merely existed within the fabric of the universe; we were unable to change it, barely able to understand it, and only temporarily allowed to manipulate it.
From this understanding, we began to learn about ourselves, about others, and about the world that we all share. Hypotheses, theories, and laws are important for more than determining which journals are to be cited or ignored. These basic units of thought allow us to question our universe and determine what is and isn’t true.
What is the future of Hypotheses, Theories, and Laws?
The future of these units of thought is the same future as the rest of the universe: Progress and the slow march towards oblivion. We will never know everything there is to know about our world, but by relying on rigorous testing, by challenging everything we see, and by questioning the fundamental rights and wrongs of the world in which we exist, we will, one day, walk into the light.
The future is bright, and to grasp it, we must merely keep moving forward.
Two-years-ago, in the middle of the summer, then Editor-in-Chief Emily Jones proposed a radical notion. A psychology and English student—a person who’d failed almost all of the science and math classes he’d ever taken—would start a column in The Ontarion that would examine interesting and confusing scientific topics. The student would be given free reign over the subject matter and format of the column, so long as he promised to never stop researching, explaining, and writing about the strange and wonderful parts of the universe.
After two years, it’s time for “Science Avenue” to come to an official end.
This June, I will be graduating from the University of Guelph. Though I may be gone, the “Science Avenue” column will remain for anyone interested in mindlessly leaping into the deep ocean of science and technology.
As always, I’m excited for the truly absurd possibilities.