ABSTRACT
Science, Art and Human Interest How can it be said, without misunderstanding, that science is becoming an art-form? Some years ago there was a television programme on viruses, and I have a very clear memory of the intricate models, beautifully made and lighted, with which the studio was hung. To say that this is all I remember wouldn't be quite right, but still these intricate mobiles achieved a kind of autonomy, and what I know about viruses is mainly from elsewhere. When I discuss popularisation of the arts-productions and discussions of drama, for example-I am soon told that as a professional I am looking with the wrong eyes: these programmes are not for me but for the general viewer. In science I am a general viewer. I was at a grammar school which taught no biology, only some physics and chemistry. Now I have two sons reading science and their books are around the house. I read some texts, some periodicals, and enjoy some chances of discussion. But professional science-the detailed everyday work of experiment and inquiry-is as far from me, except for occasional eavesdropping, as the detailed everyday work of professional writing is from those who see only its products. I reflect then on what seems a substantial difference: most writing (almost all that interests me) is for the general reader or viewer; it is a cultural and communal form in that sense. Most science, as I understand it, is undertaken with an intention very similar to that indicated by the strictest aesthetic theories: as a process justified in itself, quite apart from its potential audience. The only real and qualified audience, I am often told, is other professionals; or if this is not so, as a matter of principle, in practice the reaction to popularisation reminds me of the stricter literary coteries: not an argument but an attitude seals that world off.
