Let me clarify that the aim of this article is not to exploit the irony of the limitation of science by highlighting the pitfalls of it. This is an observation of science in retrospect, of its evolution from a tiny, common knuckle-dagger into humanity’s most aspirational endeavor.
The fundamental utility of science is to describe reality—the reality we commonly refer to as nature. From formulating elegant equations based on ingenious understanding of phenomena to making precise observations aimed at deriving general principles, science demonstrates a wide spectrum of activities. It is an inherently human pursuit, shaped by our cognitive frameworks and, inevitably, limited by them. But to maintain its credibility, science has consciously confined itself to the empirical, rejecting domains beyond measurable experience—the unheard, untouched, unseen, and untold. By its very structure, science is built to engage only with the physically observable.
This is not a shortcoming in itself. Science, by definition, is empirical. It does not claim to explain everything—only what can be tested, observed, and reasoned about systematically. However, given the sheer scale of the unknown, this self-imposed boundary raises an important question: Is there a need to refine how science interacts with what it cannot yet fully grasp?
Looking at science’s past, we find it to be a method of trial and error, refining itself through self-correction rather than dogmatic certainty. A notable example is the Copenhagen Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics in the late 1920s. At the time, many physicists were forced to reconsider their understanding of reality itself, facing paradoxes that classical physics could not resolve. While this new framework of wave-particle duality and superposition was groundbreaking, it was not universally accepted—alternative interpretations persisted and continue to be debated. Science did not dogmatically assert its completeness; instead, it did what it has always done: adapted and evolved.
Yet, here we are, almost a century later, confronting a new kind of stagnation. Many scientific theories remain untested not because they lack merit, but because our current technological and observational capabilities limit us. More troublingly, some of these theories directly challenge fundamental concepts of space, time, and causality, leading to deep divisions within scientific discourse. The issue is not that science claims to have reached the pinnacle of understanding—rather, it is that we, as human beings, sometimes mistake current models for absolute truth. This assumption slows progress.
If history has taught us anything, it is that scientific certainty is a temporary illusion—Newtonian physics seemed unshakable until relativity redefined motion; determinism seemed absolute until quantum mechanics exposed inherent uncertainties. The real danger lies not in science itself but in the way we perceive it: as a finished, flawless structure rather than a dynamic and self-correcting discipline.
This brings us to a crucial point: What do we do with the unknown? Unlike Western frameworks that traditionally lean toward objectivity and empirical rigor, Eastern philosophies such as Hinduism, Taoism, and Buddhism have long embraced the unknown as an essential aspect of understanding reality. The concept of Shunyata (emptiness) in Buddhist philosophy, for example, does not demand absolute explanations but rather acknowledges uncertainty as fundamental. Similarly, Taoism posits that true wisdom comes from accepting ambiguity rather than resisting it.
This contrast is not to say that Western science is blind to the unknown. On the contrary, modern physics actively engages with uncertainty—dark matter, dark energy, quantum fluctuations, and the multiverse hypothesis all acknowledge the limits of current understanding. However, the difference lies in approach. Scientific methodology requires proof before belief, whereas philosophical traditions often accept the unknown as an inherent reality. Both perspectives are valuable, and neither invalidates the other.
But let us take a step back. Less than 5% of the universe is composed of ordinary matter that we can observe. The rest—dark matter and dark energy—remains largely theoretical, inferred from indirect evidence but not yet directly observed. This fact does not diminish science’s success; it only reinforces that we are nowhere near a final understanding of reality.
What, then, should be the way forward? The solution is not to abandon empirical science, nor to replace it with unverified speculation. Instead, the key lies in broadening our willingness to question foundational assumptions while remaining disciplined in our approach to discovery. Science must remain rigorous, but also flexible. Theories that challenge conventional models should be explored rather than dismissed. Instead of resisting change, science must continue doing what it has always done best: adapting, refining, and evolving.
Ignoring unresolved contradictions only delays progress. Rather than fearing complexity, we must embrace it. Science must continue pushing its boundaries, acknowledging that its greatest discoveries often arise when its own limitations are tested.
Let’s genuinely, passionately pursue science—not as an unshakable monolith of truth, but as a living, breathing process of relentless exploration.