Can political activists learn from the scientific method?

There are many differences between science and pseudoscience, and one of the most critical is the falsifiability of hypotheses in science

In the scientific method, when we formulate a hypothesis and make a prediction based on it, we simultaneously establish a method to measure the outcome. If the result does not align with our prediction, we realize that either we made an error in our calculations or the hypothesis itself requires revision. In such a case, we modify our theoretical framework to provide more accurate predictions in the future.

In pseudoscience, such a mechanism does not exist. You can provide any prediction, but when that prediction fails to align with reality, you always leave yourself an escape hatch: the claim that the existing theory somehow justifies the incorrect result as well.

The classic example is that of an archer wishing to demonstrate his skill. He either defines the target beforehand and, if his arrow misses, accepts that he made a mistake, analyzes his behaviour, and strives, through practice, to hit closer to the center next time.

But there is another way: he can release the arrow, and wherever it lands, he then draws the target circles around it and joyfully announces that he has “hit the bullseye.”

While “hard science” cannot be directly imported into the social and political arenas, we can be inspired by its logic and spirit. Political and social activity, especially when intertwined with human lives, requires constant critical analysis.

For a people weary of tyranny and lies, there is no such thing as a “good lie” or a “bad lie.” We must fight the very nature of falsehood itself. Therefore, it is necessary to demand that politicians—and perhaps more importantly, political and social activists—recognize at least some degree of the principle of falsifiability and the act of “defining the target before the shot.”

If we analyze the situation and, based on it, design actions to achieve a specific goal within a set timeframe, we must be transparent enough so that both we and our audience can assess the accuracy of that analysis. If we make an error, by accepting responsibility for our miscalculation, we gain the opportunity to repair and learn.

External reality is neither born of mere slogans nor can it survive by them.

Abundant examples of political activity and governance based on the “illusion of permanent success” and pseudoscience lie before us. We need only look at this catastrophic year for Iranians. In official documents and writings, this was supposed to be the year where Iran and its people reached such a status that the world would be amazed: a happy and hopeful people, a prosperous society, a country with a healthy environment, a scientific leader in the region and an inspiration to the world, a flourishing economy, and dozens of other promises.

Why did this not happen? Because the rulers were not—and still are not—willing to admit that their hypotheses and methods might be wrong. Even today, the government’s staunch supporters claim we are in the “best possible place.” Yet, no matter how grand this claim sounds, it pales in the face of reality. One only needs to pull their head out from under the snow to see the disaster in which Iran and Iranians are trapped.

There is no hope for today’s rulers, unless a hand from the unseen appears or a miraculous effort occurs to turn them from their path of error.

However, those who fight against this structure in the name of freedom, justice, and truth have no choice but to abandon pseudoscience politics and step into the real world. You and I might be able to replace one structure with another through lies, hypocrisy, deception, and strange interpretations, but in the process, if we succumb to falsehood, we forget that what we were fighting was not a “person,” but a “behaviour.” We condemn the liar and the oppressor not because of their face or identity card, but because of their lies and oppression.

Today, a segment of the forces struggling against the Islamic Republic—particularly those living outside Iran—must reflect honestly on their recent behaviours and rhetoric:

• Have they erred somewhere?
• Have their actions over the past few years—and specifically their conduct over these last few weeks—been effective?
• Have they fallen for fabricated numbers, erred in their analyses, or pinned their hopes on the cooperation of those who did not deserve that trust?

If they have made mistakes, they must speak about them, apologize, and, by learning from them, take their next steps more precisely. If only they knew what power lies within this act.

The entire power of science does not lie in the “perpetual correctness of its statements”; it lies in the fact that when it errs, and its prediction fails to match reality, instead of projecting blame, it examines itself. It does not blame the results on an unknown enemy or a thousand other justifications; it does not erase the problem. Instead, by revisiting its initial hypotheses, it corrects its course.

Politics and society cannot be measured with the rigid tools of hard science, but one can embrace fundamental principles: acknowledging error and striving to reform methods.

This, however, is impossible if we close the doors and windows, imprisoning ourselves in the repetitive echo of our own voices within caves cut off from the world, falling into pride and error from hearing only that same sound. We must open the doors of thought and the ears of reason to valid data, objective realities, and differing viewpoints. We must listen, evaluate, and—most importantly—critique ourselves with the same intellectual ruthlessness with which we critique our rivals.

The final question is this: Can the opponents of the current deceitful system prevent their own metamorphosis before they become more like the very structure they are fighting? Can they, instead of breaking the mirror, look at themselves in the mirror of reality and proceed to reform their methods?

The future of Iran depends on such choices.