Why do fields like physics, biology, and psychology operate independently, yet always seem to describe a shared world? Robert Prentner, assistant professor at the Institute of Humanities, offers an answer in his new paper: the unity of science isn’t about simplifying everything to physical laws, but stems from the transcendental unity of consciousness. Drawing on Daoist philosophy, this is like a harmonious dialectic between Yin and Yang—opposing perspectives naturally coexist, and science and technology helps uncover their connections.
The paper, titled “Daoist Unity of Science, the Bifurcation of Nature, and Modern Technology,” was published at the end of September in the Journal of Contemporary Chinese Philosophy. Prentner targets the core issue: past philosophy of science pushed reductionism, claiming all sciences ultimately reduce to quantum physics. But that’s unrealistic, he illustrates with examples:
1. Chemistry: Quantum formulas calculate atomic positions, but fail to explain why molecules form specific structures.
2. Biology: Genes matter, but environmental factors feedback to alter gene expression—it’s not unidirectional control.
3. Perception and Consciousness: The world we see is a simplified “interface” from the brain, displaying only survival-useful information (like “stop at red lights”) while hiding true complexity. Consciousness studies are thornier: 97 theories try to explain why we feel pain as painful via physics, but all fail.
These challenges shift science toward pluralism, acknowledging diverse methodologies across fields. But Prentner says, don’t worry—the unity lies in consciousness. Borrowing from Kant, consciousness has a transcendental unity: all thoughts accompany an “I think,” binding experiences into one. This isn’t a “thing,” but the conditions of possibility for science. The sense of a single world isn’t scientifically proven; it’s experiential.
Daoist insight amplifies this: The Dao De Jing describes that Dao creates one, one creates two (yin-yang), two creates three, then birthing the ten thousand things. Scientific diversity mirrors yin-yang opposition, unified through Qi in harmonious dialectic—not by eliminating differences, but balancing them, so physics needn’t “devour” biology.
What about technology? Once seen as a “data tool” (collect first, analyze later), Prentner reframes it: AI and similar tools connect disparate scientific models, revealing meta-patterns (like fusing physical simulations with biological data for novel insights). Far from “theory-free” approaches, they bridges to expose the transcendental nature of consciousness.
“Western philosophy of science can learn from Daoism: unity is harmony, not reduction,” Prentner writes. For the AI era, this inspires: technology isn’t just practical; it reveals unity within plurality. The paper hypothesizes: if tech proves equivalence between models, it tests unified consciousness—turning philosophy into empirical science.
Science isn’t a “shattered mosaic” anymore, but a single canvas on which consciousness paints—perhaps the next breakthrough starts here, via Daoist lenses.