The professor turned off the projector and turned to his students at the end of the first class in R&D Methods, “Some evening this week I would like each one of you to conduct an experiment. Find a moment to spend a few minutes alone. Treat yourself to a glass of wine or beer or whatever helps you relax. Put some rhythmic music on the stereo, classical or jazz or rock, whatever you enjoy. Plug in a set of earphones and turn off the loudspeakers. Light a candle and place it on a table about a meter in front of a comfortable chair. Sit in the chair, put on the earphones, close your eyes, listen to the music, and relax for a few minutes. Then, open your eyes and see if the flickering of the candle flame keeps time to the music. Please be ready to report your observations in class next week.”
The next week in class, the students were all abuzz. “Gee, Professor. It’s crazy, but you were right! The candle flame keeps time to the music! Not all the time, but it happened pretty often. We saw it!” they chorused. “Yeah, but how could that happen?” one demanded. “I was wearing earphones, and there was no sound coming from the speakers. There was no acoustical connection between the sound and the flame!” Most of them, however, said, “Nonsense! There was wasn’t any correlation between the flickering of the candle and the music rhythms. That’s impossible.” But many of them saw it at least some of the time. Arguments and theories abounded.
The professor let them rant and rave for a few minutes. Then, when everyone finally quieted down, he spoke up. “How many of you observed the candle flame keep time to the music?” About 8 of the 20 students raised their hands. “And how many of you observed no apparent correlation?” The hands of the other 12 students shot up. “How many of you carefully followed the experiment protocol I gave you?” All 20 hands came up. “And how many of you are being factual about your observations to the best of your ability?” Again, 20 hands. “So, may we conclude,” asked the professor, “that 8 of the candles kept time to the music, and 12 did not?”
The room was silent while the students reacted to this proposed conclusion. “That’s seems unlikely,” said one student. “And why didn’t it happen with all of us?”
“Well,” said the professor, “let’s look at the conditions that governed this experiment. First, each of you used a different candle. Maybe some kinds of candles work, and others don’t. Second, each of you was in a different room with different lighting conditions. Maybe the candle needs to be in a particular lighting condition to react to the music.” Eyebrows went up on that one. “Third, each of you probably chose a different kind of music: Mozart, Al Jarreau, The Stones, whatever. Maybe different candles prefer different kinds of music.” Audible groans could be heard in the classroom. “Fourth....”
“Maybe it wasn’t the candle,” interrupted one of the students. “Maybe it was me.”
“Please explain, Jack,” the professor prompted.
“Well, I know I saw the candle flickering in time to the music, but maybe my eyes were flickering, not the candle. Or something like that.” Some others in the class chuckled. “Or maybe I just imagined it was flickering, but it really wasn’t.”
“I didn’t imagine it. I saw it,” insisted Bill, another student.
“Well,” Jack responded, “how could you know whether it was real or imagined. It would seem real either way.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude. Maybe you imagined it. I know what I saw,” countered Bill, his eyes narrowing.
It was time for the professor to interrupt this exchange, which sounded like something straight out of the Middle Ages, when the means for settling intellectual disputes were often ugly. “Let’s get back to the original question. How come the candles kept time to the music?”
“I think the question is wrong,” ventured Jack.
“Oh,“ said the professor. “So, you think your esteemed professor has posed an ill-posed question, eh, Jack?” The students laughed nervously, and Bill swung around in his chair to shake his finger at Jack.
“Yes, sir_.no offense intended,” said Jack
“None taken. So, how should the question be posed?”
“Maybe... How come some of us saw the candle keep time to the music?”
“That’s the same as the question the professor asked, dude,” said Bill.
“No. He asked why the candle kept time. I asked why we saw the candle keep time.”
“Psycho-babble,” said Bill. “If I saw it happen, it happened,” grumbled Bill.
“I am absolutely convinced that you saw the candle flickering, Bill,” said the professor. “I have no doubt that all of you have reported your observations faithfully. However, Jack’s rewording of the question may be significant. You must understand that the brain is a massive computer that intercedes itself between your sensors — your eyes and ears — and your conscious thoughts. A lot is going on beneath the surface that we are not aware of, and as the image of the candle makes its way from your eyes through your brain to your conscious thoughts, a lot can happen. A lot of processing takes place. All of us know firsthand how computers can screw up because their programs have logic bugs in them. Brains are no different.”
“Are you telling us that we have bugs in our brains, professor?” asked Bill.
“Perhaps ‘bats in your belfry’ might be a more appropriate expression,” said the professor with a grin. The class, including Bill, laughed good-naturedly.
“So that’s the answer?” asked another student. “It was all in our imagination?”
“No,” said the professor. “We don’t know that, Jane. It simply means that, as good researchers, we have to consider that possibility. We have to understand that the solution method that all of you applied was not even close to being objective, was certainly subject to your biases and not very reproducible. That’s bad science.”
“Well, if we were biased during this experiment, where did the bias come from?” Jane asked. “Were we born with it? Did it come from our upbringing? Should we blame our parents?”
“No,” the professor laughed. “It’s much simpler in this case, Jane. You can blame me. I instilled this bias in you. Intentionally, Mea culpa”
“When did you do that?”
“When I first described the experiment protocol last week. If you recall, I told what you were to look for. I told you to watch and see if the candle flickered in time to the music. And guess what? You saw it in your conscious mind! Like good students, you dutifully saw what your professor told you to see. That’s called a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“Now, wait a minute, sir,” said Bill. “I wasn’t influenced by your remark. I know that objectivity is important for a good scientist.”
“With all due respect, Bill, by definition you cannot know for certain what goes on in your subconscious or unconscious mind. I am pleased that you consider objectivity a critical criterion for the acquisition of knowledge. But like all the rest of us, you are strongly influenced by unconscious and subconscious motivations. This is not speculation on my part. Many carefully devised experiments have confirmed the impact of unconscious biases on the behavior of humans and many other intelligent animals.”
“Then, how should you have described the experiment protocol to avoid biasing us with an expectation?” Jane asked.
“Why don’t you give it a try, Jane,” suggested the professor.
“Well, let’s see. Put some music on the stereo, light the candle, sit down in the chair, and so forth, and then watch the candle ... uh ... to see if... uh ....” Jane’s voice faltered as she searched for the right way to phrase it. “How can you word the protocol for the task so that you don’t give the goal away, but still make sure the subject knows what to do?”
“Tricky, isn’t it?” said the professor, eyebrows arched.
“If you can’t tell the subject to watch the candle, how is he supposed to know what to do?” Bill mused, finally realizing that the problem was more complicated than he had first thought.
“To begin with, the person watching the candle is not the subject,” responded the professor. “The focus of the experiment, which is called the task unit, is the candle, not the person watching the candle and listening to the music. So, the person is the simply a smart sensor, whose function is to acquire the data necessary to decide if there is any correlation between the rhythm of the music and the flickering of the candle.
“One possible solution to this problem is to use an electronic sensor and get the human out of the system entirely. The development of a vast array of mechanical and electronic sensors over the last few centuries has allowed us to eliminate much of the bias resulting from the subjective interpretations of humans. That has been one of the most important contributions to research in science and engineering since the Scientific Revolution of the 17th and 18th centuries.”
“What kind of sensor would you use to replace the human eyes and ears?” asked one of the students.
“A video camera and a microphone might work. After acquiring the data, we would have...