From The Invisible Man to Oppenheimer: The Ethics of Science

Introduction

Science gained enormous momentum in deciphering nature's mysteries through the Enlightenment. However, this process, grounded in the objectification of nature, also brought with it a host of ethical challenges. Has scientific knowledge become a tool for human liberation and benefit, or an unchecked mechanism of domination?

Let us explore the ethical dimensions of science through the lenses of literature and scientific history. We will begin with H.G. Wells’s novel The Invisible Man and the moral crisis of Robert Oppenheimer, and extend the discussion into contemporary issues such as artificial intelligence and genetic engineering.

This essay aims to critically examine the nature of scientific power and its moral boundaries through the principles of the philosophy of science and ethical responsibility.

The Philosophical Foundations of Scientific Ethics and a Critique of Enlightenment

The Enlightenment was not only an epistemological project but also a moral one. Thinkers of the 18th century believed that human reason could not only transform nature but also reshape social order and moral life.

Indeed, the Enlightenment made an explicit ethical promise that reason could lead to emancipation, justice, and universal moral principles.

Did the Enlightenment truly make an ethical promise? Yes. One of its clearest expressions is found in Immanuel Kant’s 1784 essay, "What is Enlightenment?" Kant defined Enlightenment as the individual’s emergence from self-imposed immaturity through the use of one’s own reason. He argued that reason can guide us not only to truth, but also to moral good. His categorical imperative proclaimed: "Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law."

For Kant, morality must be based on universal and necessary principles derived from reason. He called these principles imperatives and divided them into two:

• Hypothetical imperative: "If you want X, do Y." (conditional)

• Categorical imperative: "Do Y, regardless of context." (unconditional and foundational for morality)

Kant proposed that individual morality should be governed by rational universalism. Morality requires not personal interest, but universal responsibility. The phrase "act only according to that maxim" represents individual morality, while "universal law" symbolizes rational universality.

However, the ethical foundations of science, as articulated through Kant during the Enlightenment, could not be sustained historically. As science evolved, especially after the Industrial Revolution, this ethical ideal was replaced by instrumental rationality.

Modern science was born out of a radical transformation in post-Renaissance understandings of nature. Descartes, Bacon, and Newton defined nature as a mechanical, calculable system governed by discoverable laws. This perspective led to the idea that humanity could dominate nature through knowledge. Bacon’s maxim "knowledge is power" came to epitomize this mentality.

These three founding figures of modern science conceptualized nature as rational, measurable, and controllable. Yet, their approaches largely neglected the ethical boundaries of scientific knowledge production. While they did not explicitly reject ethics, they did disregard it.

Let us examine their statements more closely.

Francis Bacon claimed that knowledge could be attained by "torturing" nature to reveal its secrets. Mastering nature by force was considered a virtue. Does this not imply that knowledge's purpose is control and domination rather than moral stewardship?

Bacon’s famous phrase, "knowledge is power" (nam et ipsa scientia potestas est), first appears in Meditationes Sacrae (1597), and is systematized in Novum Organum, where knowledge is placed at the service of domination.

René Descartes separated the mind from nature completely. Through his concepts of "res cogitans" (thinking substance) and "res extensa" (extended substance), he asserted a dualism that made nature and animals mere mechanisms. Even animals, he argued, were soulless machines. Is this not a purely epistemological and instrumental approach to the living world?

Isaac Newton described nature mathematically and built a framework of universal physical laws. Yet, the moral dimensions of nature or the ethical consequences of knowledge production were entirely absent from his work. Newtonian science objectified nature and treated it as an external resource for human use.

These thinkers contributed immensely to science's capacity to understand and manipulate the natural world. But ethical responsibility was marginalized. The relationship between knowledge and power replaced that of knowledge and virtue.

The founders of modern science laid the philosophical groundwork for scientific power, but did not define its moral limits. As a result, science’s instrumentalization in later centuries led to recurring ethical crises. Was Heidegger wrong to question the very concept of Being?

In summary, the failure to ethically constrain the power–knowledge relationship gave rise to instrumental reason. The Enlightenment's ethical promise that reason would guide us to both truth and goodness was gradually overtaken by a linear, domination-driven scientific worldview. This transformation was not only philosophical but shaped by historical and economic forces as well. Particularly, capitalist production relations fundamentally altered the meaning and purpose of scientific knowledge.

With the Industrial Revolution, science was no longer a means for personal emancipation but rather a tool for optimizing production and gaining technological advantage. The aim of scientific research shifted from understanding nature to controlling it, extracting profit, and deepening exploitation. Scientific knowledge became a commodity measured by market value. Ethical responsibility was either sidelined or entirely ignored.

The most incisive philosophical critique of this transformation was offered by Adorno and Horkheimer in Dialectic of Enlightenment. They argued that Enlightenment reason, initially meant to dispel myth and dogma, had itself become an instrument of domination. Instrumental reason no longer sought to understand truth, but to control nature and humanity alike. Their claim: "Domination of nature becomes domination of human beings and Enlightenment manufactures its own myth: pure technical rationality."

Herbert Marcuse contributed to this critique in One-Dimensional Man. In modern society, science and technology suppress critical thought and mold individuals to conform to systemic norms. Science loses its emancipatory potential and becomes the technical servant of capital and power.

The collapse of the Enlightenment's ethical promise was not merely a philosophical erosion but also a consequence of capitalism's structure of domination over knowledge and humanity.

Rationality not only explained nature, but also became a tool for its exploitation. Thus, modern science began to evolve into a power-generating mechanism devoid of ethical substance.

According to Kant, a person must never be treated merely as a means, but always also as an end. If scientific knowledge instrumentalizes human life, then ethical boundaries have been violated. When scientific reason cannot define its own limits, it paves the way for ethical catastrophes.

The Ontology of Power and Moral Collapse

The Invisible Man, published in 1897, is a work of science fiction. Beneath its narrative, however, lies an allegorical text rich with philosophical and ethical critique. The protagonist, Griffin, achieves a major scientific breakthrough by discovering the secret of invisibility. This success leads to his estrangement from society. Griffin gradually loses his ethical compass and descends into moral collapse.

Griffin’s invisibility is not merely physical. It symbolizes an ontological transformation as well. What becomes invisible is not just the body, but moral responsibility itself. Freed from social norms, accountability, and scrutiny, Griffin comes to believe that mastering nature has granted him godlike power.

Wells's narrative delivers a stark message: when science brings humanity to the point of deciphering nature’s codes, the absence of an inner ethical framework may lead individuals to use their discoveries destructively. We can connect this directly to Kant: "Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law."

Scientists must not only understand nature but also themselves. Otherwise, knowledge becomes power, and power becomes destruction.

Oppenheimer and Faustian Science

Robert Oppenheimer occupies a pivotal place in the history of modern science, not only for his role in developing nuclear physics, but also for his symbolic embodiment of scientific conscience and ethical reckoning. Through the Manhattan Project, he played a central role in transforming nuclear theory into a weapon of war. Upon witnessing the first atomic test at the Trinity site, Oppenheimer reportedly recalled a line from the Bhagavad Gita: "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."

This quote reflects the immense moral weight he carried. The Trinity test was conducted on July 16, 1945. Less than a month later, atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima (August 6) and Nagasaki (August 9), killing an estimated 210,000 people by the end of the year, most of them civilians.

Oppenheimer, like the mythical Faust who desired boundless knowledge, was forced to confront the destructive potential of the very knowledge he helped create. The technical success of the bomb arrived hand-in-hand with an ethical catastrophe.

Goethe’s Faust is a scholar who, despite mastering all worldly knowledge, finds himself unfulfilled. In his quest for deeper meaning, he sells his soul to the devil (Mephistopheles) in exchange for power, pleasure, and worldly achievements. But this pursuit comes at a high moral cost. It erodes his integrity and harms others.

When we compare Oppenheimer to Wells’s Griffin, similarities emerge. Both experience knowledge as power. Unlike Griffin, Oppenheimer becomes aware of his ethical responsibility. Yet this awareness does not translate into meaningful action. He is up against not just scientific reality but also the machinery of the state and the geopolitical pressures of the Cold War.

Oppenheimer later advocated for nuclear arms control, but in 1954, he was politically targeted by the U.S. government. His security clearance was revoked, and he was publicly sidelined. This underscores a crucial truth: the ethical use of scientific knowledge cannot be left to individual conscience alone. Once again, Kant must be invoked: individual morality must be tied to rational universality.

Oppenheimer’s tragedy is the tragedy of the modern scientist. Possessing knowledge does not mean possessing the ethical and political power to guide its use. Ethical science requires institutions as well as individuals. Just as Faust’s bargain with Mephistopheles was rooted in a desire for power, so too was Oppenheimer’s knowledge harnessed for war and state power. The issue is not merely individual. It is structural and institutional.

The Crisis of Scientific Responsibility Today

In today’s world, science permeates every aspect of life through increasingly powerful technologies. But this penetration brings with it renewed ethical crises.

Of particular concern are three domains that I believe are among the most pressing: artificial intelligence, genetic engineering, and surveillance technologies.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is becoming increasingly autonomous in data processing and decision-making. However, it often replicates human biases through its training data. For example, predictive policing algorithms have been shown to assign disproportionately high risk scores to black individuals. Such cases undermine the assumption of technological neutrality.

AI developers are frequently reluctant to accept responsibility for the social consequences of their systems. Doesn’t this reduction of scientific endeavor to mere technical achievement imply a detachment from ethics?

CRISPR-Cas9 technology enables direct editing of the human genome, making human nature itself a site of engineering. The ideal body becomes a biopolitical norm. As the boundaries of genetic intervention blur, ethical concerns deepen.

The fundamental issue here is the conflation of what is technically possible with what is ethically legitimate. Scientific knowledge, once again, is a form of power just as Bacon envisioned. But who holds ethical accountability for that power?

From facial recognition to social media algorithms, digital surveillance mechanisms violate privacy and threaten personal freedom. Data mining and constant traceability turn individuals into objects of digital control.

Many of these systems are operated by private corporations, while governments increasingly use them as tools of domination. Technological progress is thus being weaponized for political control.

Rethinking the Philosophy and Ethics of Science

When we reflect on scientific ethics, we must also consider the ancient tradition of moral inquiry rooted in Greek philosophy. Socrates, one of its foremost representatives, argued for an unbreakable link between knowledge and virtue: "No one does wrong knowingly." This principle suggests that those who truly understand the good will act accordingly.

Socrates also emphasized accountability to the public: "The unexamined life is not worth living." Shouldn’t the same principle apply to scientists today?

Knowledge production must be evaluated not only for technical success but also for its social consequences. As Socrates saw himself accountable to the Athenian polis, so too must scientists be answerable not just to data and experiments, but to humanity.

Modern debates on scientific ethics, however sophisticated, must return to this Socratic core: knowledge entails responsibility. A scientist must ask not only what is possible, but what is right.

Scientific ethics should not be a mere checklist for regulatory compliance, but a philosophical challenge to reconsider the nature of knowledge itself. Thinkers like Karl Popper, Thomas Kuhn, and Paul Feyerabend laid critical foundations for such reflection.

Popper’s science rests on falsifiability rather than verification. This principle demands that scientists constantly test and expose their own theories to criticism. However, Popper’s notion of responsibility remains limited to individual critique and does not address collective consequences.

Kuhn emphasized that science progresses within dominant paradigms. This can lead to the exclusion of dissenting perspectives and even ethical questions. During the Manhattan Project, for example, the prevailing scientific paradigm left little room for moral debate.

Feyerabend argued against the idea of a single scientific method. He believed that scientists must rely not only on technical skill, but also on ethical and cultural intuition. Ethical responsibility, for him, lies in recognizing multiple ways of knowing.

Donna Haraway’s concept of “situated knowledge” asserts that no scientific perspective is entirely objective. All knowledge is shaped by cultural, gendered, and social contexts. Ethical responsibility, then, is not only personal but also collective and structural.

Science cannot be understood independently of its historical and geopolitical context. Often, scientific knowledge has evolved in tandem with colonial and imperial structures. From medical testing on colonized bodies to the alignment of technological advancement with imperial policy, ethical science must interrogate who benefits from knowledge and where it is produced.

The Possibility of Ethically Conscious Science

Griffin’s descent, Oppenheimer’s remorse, and today’s algorithmic systems show that science not only deciphers nature, it shapes the future of humanity. But without ethical grounding, this power becomes destructive.

The philosophy of science must interrogate not only what knowledge is, but how and for whom it is produced. Scientific freedom, when unbounded by ethical responsibility, yields not freedom but domination.

Wells’s warning, Oppenheimer’s regret, and our contemporary technological dystopias compel us to view science not just as a vehicle for progress, but as a domain of moral reckoning.

I know this is a long and perhaps hopeless essay. But with timeless values in mind, I end here, ready to write the next, equally hopeless one.