First of all, do you believe that "But as with the problem of global warming and its known solutions, what we lack is the will to change things" is incorrect?
I am not very good at estimating probabilities, but I would guess: 99% there is a global warming; 95% the human contribution is very significant; 95% in a rational world we could reduce the human contribution, though not necessarily to zero.
Parallel universes requires a long meta explanation before people can even grasp your point, and, more damningly, they are rejected by experts in the field.
Climate change also requires some investigation. As an example, I have never studied anything remotely similar to climatology, and I have no idea who the experts in the field are. (I could do this, but I have limited time and different priorities.) People are giving me all kinds of data, many of them falsified, and I don't have a background knowledge to tell the difference. So basicly in my situation, all I have is hearsay, and it's just my decision whom to trust. (Unless I want to ignore my other priorities and invest a lot of time in this topic, which has no practical relevance to my everyday life.)
Despite all this, during years I have done some intuitive version of probabilistic reasoning; I have unconsciously noticed that some things correlate with other things (for example: people who are wrong when discussing one topic have somewhat higher probability to be wrong when discussing other topic, some styles of discussion are somewhat more probably used by people who are wrong, etc.), so gradually my model of the world started strongly suggesting that "there is a global warming" is a true statement. Yet, it is all very indirect reasoning on my part -- so I can understand how a person, just as ignorant about this topic as me, could with some probability come to a different conclusion.
But if someone rejects the global warming consensus, then they are being irrational, and this should be proclaimed, again and again.
No one is perfectly rational, right? People make all kinds of transgressions against rationality, and "rejecting the global warming consensus" seems to me like a minor one, compared with alternatives. Such person could still be in the top 1 percentile of rationality, mostly because humans generally are not very rational.
Anyway, the choice (at least as I see it) is not between "speak about global warming" or "not speak about global warming", but between "speak about global warming in a separate article, with arguments and references" and "drop the mention in unrelated places, as applause lights". Some people consider this approach bad even when it is about theism, which in my opinion is a hundred times larger transgression against rationality.
Writing about global warming is a good thing to do, and it belongs on LW, and avoiding it would be bad. It just should be done in a way that emphasises that we speak about rational conclusions, and not only promote our group-think. Because it is a topic where most people promote some group-think, so when this topic is introduced, there is a high prior probability that is was introduced for bad reasons.
Thanks for your detailed response!
Some people consider this approach bad even when it is about theism, which in my opinion is a hundred times larger transgression against rationality.
I feel the opposite - global warming denial is much worse than (mild) theism. I explain more in: http://lesswrong.com/r/discussion/lw/aw6/global_warming_is_a_better_test_of_irrationality/
Like The Cognitive Science of Rationality, this is a post for beginners. Send the link to your friends!
Science is broken. We know why, and we know how to fix it. What we lack is the will to change things.
In 2005, several analyses suggested that most published results in medicine are false. A 2008 review showed that perhaps 80% of academic journal articles mistake "statistical significance" for "significance" in the colloquial meaning of the word, an elementary error every introductory statistics textbook warns against. This year, a detailed investigation showed that half of published neuroscience papers contain one particular simple statistical mistake.
Also this year, a respected senior psychologist published in a leading journal a study claiming to show evidence of precognition. The editors explained that the paper was accepted because it was written clearly and followed the usual standards for experimental design and statistical methods.
Science writer Jonah Lehrer asks: "Is there something wrong with the scientific method?"
Yes, there is.
This shouldn't be a surprise. What we currently call "science" isn't the best method for uncovering nature's secrets; it's just the first set of methods we've collected that wasn't totally useless like personal anecdote and authority generally are.
As time passes we learn new things about how to do science better. The Ancient Greeks practiced some science, but few scientists tested hypotheses against mathematical models before Ibn al-Haytham's 11th-century Book of Optics (which also contained hints of Occam's razor and positivism). Around the same time, Al-Biruni emphasized the importance of repeated trials for reducing the effect of accidents and errors. Galileo brought mathematics to greater prominence in scientific method, Bacon described eliminative induction, Newton demonstrated the power of consilience (unification), Peirce clarified the roles of deduction, induction, and abduction, and Popper emphasized the importance of falsification. We've also discovered the usefulness of peer review, control groups, blind and double-blind studies, plus a variety of statistical methods, and added these to "the" scientific method.
In many ways, the best science done today is better than ever — but it still has problems, and most science is done poorly. The good news is that we know what these problems are and we know multiple ways to fix them. What we lack is the will to change things.
This post won't list all the problems with science, nor will it list all the promising solutions for any of these problems. (Here's one I left out.) Below, I only describe a few of the basics.
Problem 1: Publication bias
When the study claiming to show evidence of precognition was published, psychologist Richard Wiseman set up a registry for advance announcement of new attempts to replicate the study.
Carl Shulman explains:
This is an example of publication bias:
Sometimes, publication bias can be more deliberate. The anti-inflammatory drug Rofecoxib (Vioxx) is a famous case. The drug was prescribed to 80 million people, but in it was later revealed that its maker, Merck, had withheld evidence of the drug's risks. Merck was forced to recall the drug, but it had already resulted in 88,000-144,000 cases of serious heart disease.
Example partial solution
One way to combat publication bias is for journals to only accept experiments that were registered in a public database before they began. This allows scientists to see which experiments were conducted but never reported (perhaps due to negative results). Several prominent medical journals (e.g. The Lancet and JAMA) now operate this way, but this protocol is not as widespread as it could be.
Problem 2: Experimenter bias
Scientists are humans. Humans are affected by cognitive heuristics and biases (or, really, humans just are cognitive heuristics and biases), and they respond to incentives that may not align with an optimal pursuit of truth. Thus, we should expect experimenter bias in the practice of science.
There are many stages in research during which experimenter bias can occur:
Common biases have been covered elsewhere on Less Wrong, so I'll let those articles explain how biases work.
Example partial solution
There is some evidence that the skills of rationality (e.g. cognitive override) are teachable. Training scientists to notice and meliorate biases that arise in their thinking may help them to reduce the magnitude and frequency of the thinking errors that may derail truth-seeking attempts during each stage of the scientific process.
Problem 3: Bad statistics
I remember when my statistics professor first taught me the reasoning behind "null hypothesis significance testing" (NHST), the standard technique for evaluating experimental results. NHST uses "p-values," which are statements about the probability of getting some data (e.g. one's experimental results) given the hypothesis being tested. I asked my professor, "But don't we want to know the probability of the hypothesis we're testing given the data, not the other way around?" The reply was something about how this was the best we could do. (But that's false, as we'll see in a moment.)
Another problem is that NHST computes the probability of getting data as unusual as the data one collected by considering what might be expected if that particular experiment was repeated many, many times. But how do we know anything about these imaginary repetitions? If I want to know something about a particular earthquake, am I supposed to imagine a few dozen repetitions of that earthquake? What does that even mean?
I tried to answer these questions on my own, but all my textbooks assumed the soundness of the mistaken NHST framework for scientific practice. It's too bad I didn't have a class with biostatistican Steven Goodman, who says:
The sad part is that the logical errors of NHST are old news, and have been known ever since Ronald Fisher began advocating NHST in the 1920s. By 1960, Fisher had out-advocated his critics, and philosopher William Rozeboom remarked:
There are many more problems with NHST and with "frequentist" statistics in general, but the central one is this: NHST does not follow from the axioms (foundational logical rules) of probability theory. It is a grab-bag of techniques that, depending on how those techniques are applied, can lead to different results when analyzing the same data — something that should horrify every mathematician.
The inferential method that solves the problems with frequentism — and, more importantly, follows deductively from the axioms of probability theory — is Bayesian inference.
So why aren't all scientists using Bayesian inference instead of frequentist inference? Partly, we can blame the vigor of NHST's early advocates. But we can also attribute NHST's success to the simple fact that Bayesian calculations can be more difficult than frequentist calculations. Luckily, new software tools like WinBUGS let computers do most of the heavy lifting required for Bayesian inference.
There's also the problem of sheer momentum. Once a practice is enshrined, it's hard to dislodge it, even for good reasons. I took three statistics courses in university and none of my textbooks mentioned Bayesian inference. I didn't learn about it until I dropped out of university and studied science and probability theory on my own.
Remember the study about precognition? Not surprisingly, it was done using NHST. A later Bayesian analysis of the data disconfirmed the original startling conclusion.
Example partial solution
This one is obvious: teach students probability theory instead of NHST. Retrain current scientists in Bayesian methods. Make Bayesian software tools easier to use and more widespread.
Conclusion
If I'm right that there is unambiguous low-hanging fruit for improving scientific practice, this suggests that particular departments, universities, or private research institutions can (probabilistically) out-perform their rivals (in terms of actual discoveries, not just publications) given similar resources.
I'll conclude with one particular specific hypothesis. If I'm right, then a research group should be able to hire researchers trained in Bayesian reasoning and in catching publication bias and experimenter bias, and have them extract from the existing literature valuable medical truths that the mainstream medical community doesn't yet know about. This prediction, in fact, is about to be tested.