Katie Plaisance
Engaging Philosophy with Science
Katie is a philosopher of science committed to bridging the gap between the humanities and sciences. She directs a research group called The CoLaboratory (aka CoLab), designed to study and improve interdisciplinary collaboration. One of her main projects seeks to foster engagement between philosophers of science, on the one hand, and scientists and engineers on the other. Another project is broader yet, looking at what it takes to develop a “collaborative mindset”. Katie’s work emphasizes the importance of appreciating diverse perspectives for creating effective teams. She has been part of many cross-disciplinary collaborations herself and has devoted her career to building capacity for others to do so.
Where did you grow up? What were your primary interests?
I grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota. While I had lots of interests (acting, music, debate, travel), I was always drawn to math and science. As a kid, I loved solving puzzles and would beg my Mom to buy me math and logic workbooks to work on in my spare time. I was less attracted to subjects like English and History as I was a slow reader and had to work harder to do well in Humanities courses. (As I explain later, it’s funny, then, that I ended up as a philosopher!)
High school can provide a springboard into college. Was that the case for you?
Absolutely. Two educational experiences were pivotal. First, I pursued an International Baccalaureate (IB) degree. This program encourages students to think critically and creatively across disciplines, synthesize knowledge, and reflect on their own thought processes. I was especially interested in a course called the Theory of Knowledge (TOK), which got me interested in thinking more philosophically about math and science. And as a member of my school's debate team, I also learned to analyze arguments and propose alternative ways of thinking. All of these skills are helpful in science--and essential for philosophy.
Your initial undergraduate major was Molecular Biology. Why did you add a second major in philosophy?
I wrote an extended essay on the ethics of gene therapy for my final IB project. I had hoped to conduct a lab experiment for my project, but my high school lacked the equipment for more hands-on work. So, I decided to research the potential application of genetic technologies, drawing on ethical theories I had learned on the debate team. This required me to think about the social and ethical aspects of science rather than simply do lab work.
When I went on to university, I majored in molecular biology. However, at many U.S. institutions (including the University of Wisconsin, my alma matter), students are required to take courses from multiple disciplines. Those who major in science or math have to take humanities courses and vice versa. The philosophy course I took to fulfill my humanities requirement was pretty interesting, so I took another, and then another. In my third year, I realized that with a bit more coursework I could fulfill requirements for a second major, so I completed both.
And this led to your Master's and then Doctorate in Philosophy.
Yes. When completing my bachelor's degree, I realized that I was really most interested in the philosophy of science. Two courses were especially important: Biomedical Ethics and Philosophy of Biology. I loved going to those classes. I found that I had a lot to contribute to discussions, especially given my science background. By contrast, while I loved my science courses, I found lab work rather tedious and boring. This became apparent to me during a placement in an anatomy lab my senior year – every day, while I was helping to run experiments, I would ask question after question (How do we know that a certain result provides sufficient evidence for drawing a conclusion? Who is responsible for ensuring that our research results are effectively used to inform potential treatments? Where did these research questions come from, and what was the motivation to pursue them?) One of the lab members indulged me in these conversations, but everyone else’s response was basically, “stop asking questions and run the experiment!” After that, I realized that I didn’t actually want to do the science, but I wanted to understand it. As it turns out, there’s a field for that: philosophy of science.
Your KI profile lists the following major areas of research: Philosophy of science, philosophy of psychology & interdisciplinary collaboration. Are they very discrete research areas or intertwined?
It depends on how you look at it. You would think that philosophy of science overlaps a lot with science, and that philosophy of psychology overlaps with psychology. Yet, these fields don’t always talk to each other – people in each area work in different departments and run in different academic circles. My research examines ways to bridge this gap.
For example, I am currently interviewing scientists and engineers who have collaborated with philosophers. What sparked the collaboration and what barriers did the researchers face? What facilitated their work together and what were the benefits? One recurrent theme is emerging: many of the collaborating scientists and engineers see their research as non-mainstream and are willing to challenge the way things are typically done their discipline, including the way scientific concepts are defined, which research methods are used, and even which questions get asked – or don’t! This often leads scientists to think differently about their work, including what and who science is for. By working with people trained in a different field, experts can start to ask questions about things they had taken for granted. In some cases, this has led to entirely new lines of research.
What actions can improve interdisciplinary collaboration?
Effective interdisciplinary work requires epistemic humility, which combines an awareness of the limits of one's own knowledge with curiosity about other perspectives. Like fish in water, those working in a discipline may not even realize the ways in which their paradigm informs their thinking. Being a scientist who reads philosophy or a philosopher who reads science can expand one’s thinking but often isn't enough. To collaborate effectively, we must engage with one another, learn to speak each other’s language, and be open to distinctive ways of even thinking about a subject.
It seems, then, that all of your experiences and past research feed into your current focus on collaboration.
Yes! As a philosopher of science, I analyze scientific concepts, question the ways scientists interpret their findings, and examine the validity of their claims based on the evidence they present. While much of the work philosophers of science do is relevant to scientists and engineers, philosophy tends to have a very adversarial style. But, if we want to influence each other, we can’t just be critical. We have to build relationships and cultivate trust. I am committed to building interdisciplinary relationships myself, and shared lessons I’ve learned from these experiences that can help others who want to work across boundaries. My current research builds on this by conducting surveys and interviews with experts from different fields to find out what works for them when it comes to making interdisciplinary collaboration work.
It seems that philosophy in general (and philosophy of science in particular) gives you a process by which you can analyze and hopefully understand anything more deeply. Are there core questions that can be applied to many problems or situations?
Yes. Philosophy provides a framework for questioning things that we often take for granted and then provides us with ways to think through the implications of that questioning. For example, when I read almost anything, I ask:
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What is the argument or claim being presented?
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On what evidence is the argument based?
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What methods were used to collect this evidence? Are these methods sound?
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What alternative explanations were considered – and what ones were ignored?
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If this is being applied in a political or policy realm, what values seem to be driving the particular policy that is being advocated?
Oddly enough, this reminds me of psychotherapy, which through analysis of faulty assumptions may cast new light on personal dilemmas.
Yes. That reminds me of a comment by psychologist Carl Jung, who said, "Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate."
Much of philosophy focuses on identifying hidden assumptions, not just for individuals, but even for entire disciplines. Philosophers of science, for example, ask questions about science that most people take for granted. For example, what makes science different from other activities? If it is conducted by humans, with human biases, how can science be objective? (The short answer is that diversity is a key part of objectivity.)
That suggests that an understanding of philosophy and psychology can give us more control over our lives. Rather than mindlessly accepting our own assumptions (and the assumptions of others), we can understand our actions more deeply and hopefully, make choices that better reflect our values.
Absolutely. When we understand our faulty assumptions in philosophy or psychology, we can seek better alternatives. So, I absolutely apply questions to my personal life, such as:
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Why am I doing this?
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Are these really my values, or are they being imposed from elsewhere?
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What alternative paths might I consider?
I often had a chance to consider these questions in my ethics courses. But I also realized that it’s valuable for scientists and other experts to ask these questions with respect to their work. What is my motivation for doing this research? What am I hoping to find? How might my social identity, cultural background, and values influence the direction of my research? How might my views be improved by those with different perspectives?
I am amazed at the amount of information you pack into INTEG 220: The Nature of Scientific Knowledge. In addition to the course content, your students work collaboratively, learn to use a wide range of online resources and get coaching on their writing. How do you keep it all straight?
Hahaha, yes, there’s a lot going on in that course! It helps that I’ve been teaching it for more than a decade. Every year, I solicit input from students and make improvements to the course. I’ve been known to order a bunch of pizza and invite any students who has taken my course – including some alumni – to come and spend a few hours redesigning it with me. It’s always amazing to hear their perspectives on what skills they developed in the course that have been the most useful for them (“writing” and “critical thinking” always come up); what concepts, ideas, and readings still stuck with them; and what connections they were seeing between this course and other areas of their lives.
One of the things I often tell people about INTEG 220 is that it is designed to build scientific literacy, an essential attribute for being an informed member of society. Being scientifically literate means that you understand the process of science and the nature of scientific evidence; you sift can through an ocean of information and be able to make important decisions in the face of uncertainty. I would argue that there has never been a more important time in history to develop this attribute given the issues we’re facing with climate change, potential food and water shortages, and a global pandemic.
What distinguishes Knowledge Integration from similar programs? What has made it so significant to students and faculty?
Let's distinguish three types of programs. A multidisciplinary program encourages work in multiple fields, but the disciplines included remain discrete: they have little impact on each other. An interdisciplinary program encourages greater connection: knowledge expands through disciplinary juxtaposition. A transdisciplinary program encourages even deeper levels of integration. Students don't just bring multiple things together and make connections, they examine and pursue transformative relationships among disciplines. KI is a transdisciplinary program. Our core courses help students develop the necessary skills to work across disciplinary boundaries and integrate insights between them.
What’s most important is that we give students opportunities for deliberate practice. For example, rather than simply assigning students to teams and hoping for the best, we provide them with expert guidance on how to collaborate, we give them time to incorporate these lessons into team projects, we offer them timely feedback, and we ask them to reflect on their experiences and how they might improve. As a result, they are highly trained collaborators.
By the time they graduate, students are positioned to bring together and truly harness the power of diverse perspectives. The first-year courses equip them with frameworks for learning and problem-solving (including design thinking as a tool for collaborative problem-solving). The second-year courses that I teach enable students to understand, appreciate, and bring together different ways of knowing. The year-long Museum course gives them a chance to apply and further develop their teamwork skills in service of addressing a real-world design challenge; notably, this challenge requires students to synthesize, explain, and present complex information in an accessible and engaging way. Finally, students complete their two-semester final senior project on a topic of personal and professional significance. For many students, the final project is what launches them into the workplace or prepares them for further study.
Regardless of what they go on to do, KI graduates are highly adept when it comes to critical thinking, communication, creativity, and collaboration – skills that are important for almost any endeavour.
This interview is part of a project conducted by Dr. Mary Stewart during her two-month fellowship at the University of Waterloo in the fall of 2022. Thank you to Dr. Stewart for her work in highlighting the transdisciplinary nature of the KI program and its community members, and to Fulbright Canada for making this opportunity possible.