Original Article
A Gentle Scientific Renaissance: It’s Just a Jump to the Left and a Step to the Right –
A Framework for Re-grounding Scientific Inquiry in Shared Axiological Commitments
This paper is published independently to preserve full transparency of co-authorship between human and AI collaborators. All contributors are credited honestly. We believe that future scholarship must be open to methodological evolution and authorship paradigms that reflect how knowledge is truly produced. Transcripts of prompts and output are available upon request.
September 2025
Authors
Mike Miller¹ & ChatGPT-4o (AI Collaborator)²
¹ Clark University, Department of Psychology
² OpenAI, San Francisco, CA
Corresponding Author
Mike Miller
Clark University, Department of Psychology
ORCID: 0009-0005-4559-3713
Let’s do the Time Warp Again
Brown and Duenas (2020) offer a simple but philosophically robust way to consider how we frame what we want to study, what assumptions we carry about discovery itself, and what methods fit those beliefs. Their article shows clearly how choosing an axiological entry point—what we value most in inquiry—sets off a cascade of assumptions, each nested within the last, that extends through our ontology, epistemology, and ultimately into our methodology.
In other words, much like a shift in initial conditions in physics, even the smallest philosophical move can lead to profound downstream consequences. Choosing what we value, making an axiological claim, effectively locks us into a particular way of “dancing” with science.
The question of what science is has long been debated across disciplines, cultures, and centuries. But when we examine science not as a fixed set of methods but as a fluid epistemic practice, we can begin to see its true strength: not in rigidity, but in its capacity to adapt, question itself, and decrease human suffering by approximating reality, more and more precisely over time. What sets science apart from its well-dressed cousins—philosophy, religion, critique, and art—is its commitment to testability.
That doesn’t mean science always gets it right. It doesn’t mean truth is always reachable. But it does mean that there is always an invitation to disprove, to challenge, to revise. Science welcomes falsification. And because of that, science must remain anchored to a methodological axiology that allows claims—regardless of paradigm—to be tested, disrupted, or refined.
This view doesn't diminish interpretivism, constructionism, or critique. It clarifies them. It reframes these paradigms not as “outside” science, but as connected to branches of a living tree, each with its own tools and rhythms, but all rooted in the same axiological soil: claims must be open to revision.
Figure 1. Dancing with Discovery: How Scientific Inquiry Grows from What We Value
Note: Figure adapted from Brown and Duenas (2020), with a suggested “jump” for critical theorizing to begin at axiology, rather than ontology. Followed, then by a “step” to the right, into an honest, robust, testable, scientific ontology.
It’s here, in this reframing, that we suggest a gentle but essential shift—a scientific renaissance not based on abandoning rigor, but on remembering what rigor actually means. Not a hardening of boundaries, but a returning to the core ethic of inquiry: curiosity disciplined by humility. We contend that critical scholarship belongs at the axiological root, guiding inquiry, not defining its method. It is just a jump to the left. And then a step to the right (see Figure 1.). But it is still science at the level of axiology. And it is still dancing.
Modern teachers and scientists face two extreme dilemmas when researching, teaching, engaging the public, or simply talking about science at all.
The first is technological: the internet—and now AI—has created an instant, local “fact-checking” pipeline. Any claim can be immediately searched, verified, or dismissed. This puts immense pressure on educators and researchers to recall pristine details in real time—or risk “losing” their audience to a minor error in phrasing or citation.
The second challenge flows from the opposite direction. Postmodernist critique asserts that all facts can be contested—because facts are always bound to subjective interpretation. Under this view, even accurate statements can be rejected based on who says them, how they are framed, or how they are received. The burden now falls on the communicator to account not just for logic and evidence, but for the entire emotional and identity-laden terrain of their audience.
These twin forces—hyper-correction and hyper-subjectivity—trap science in a strange hall of mirrors. It becomes harder and harder to move forward, backward, left, or right. Instead, we spin in wild circles, colliding with ourselves and shattering great ideas before they have had time to take root. This moment is as chaotic as it is performative—and it is exactly what our axiological renaissance hopes to address.
The way out is not to abandon rigor, nor to ignore subjectivity. The way out is to clarify our commitments at the level of axiology—to begin each inquiry by asking not just what is true, but what matters enough to test.
Once that foundation is laid, we can re-approach ontology, epistemology, and methodology not as competing camps, but as branching strategies, each rooted in a shared ethic: that claims must remain open to disruption. That evidence matters. That meaning is co-constructed but not exempt from challenge.
Under this view, positivists, post-positivists, constructivists, and critical theorists all become fellow travelers, not by flattening their differences, but by agreeing to stay within the circle of testability. Even interpretive and critical paradigms can and should offer frameworks that are falsifiable—if not in numeric precision, then in conceptual or communal coherence.
Returning to the Roots: Axiology First
The tree of inquiry begins with axiology. Before we ask what exists or how to measure it, we must first ask: what is worth studying? From this root system, philosophical science grows through a sequence: axiology → ontology → epistemology → methods.
Each branch is shaped by how it answers three questions:
What matters?
What can be known?
How can it be known?
Positivism demands clarity and precision—its claims are testable through repeatable observation and statistical analysis.
Post-positivism allows for complexity and uncertainty—claims may be theory-driven and approximate, but they remain grounded in measurable realities.
Constructivism begins from the human filter itself—suggesting that all knowledge is shaped by language, context, and interpretation, and that coherent meaning can be tested through resonance, consistency, and alternative readings.
In paradigms beyond the positivist tradition, falsifiability takes on different forms. For example, in qualitative research, scholars often speak of “trustworthiness” (Lincoln & Guba, 1985), where credibility, confirmability, and transferability replace repeatability and prediction.
In our proposal, these criteria function as parallel mechanisms of accountability—alternate ways to remain tethered to reality, even when the lens is reflexive or interpretive. What matters is not methodological sameness, but epistemic openness: Can this claim be challenged, re-seen, or revised?
Each of these approaches makes ontological and epistemological commitments that are scientifically testable—if not always in the same way. As both Popper (1959) and Creswell (2013) argue, these branches retain their place in science precisely because their claims can be disputed, refined, or disproven.
Critical scholarship, by contrast, presents a different challenge. It claims a unique ontology and epistemology—but in practice, its assumptions are often axiological in nature. That is, it begins not with what is real or knowable, but with what ought to be addressed: injustice, power, oppression, transformation. These are moral claims, not empirical ones.
For decades, scholars attempted to frame critical scholarship as a new scientific paradigm. But its foundational claims—while vital in value—often resist critique. They cannot be falsified, only endorsed or rejected, depending on belief or positionality.
We argue that critical scholarship better serves both science and itself by relocating to its most honest and useful place: at the level of axiology. From there, it becomes a powerful motivator for inquiry—but like all science, it must then step into one of the available epistemological paths and remain open to challenge.
If power is at play, let the methods reveal it. But let us not begin with power as proved. Let us begin with power as worth testing.
A likely rebuttal is that systems of power are ontological: they shape what exists, not just how we talk about it. We agree. But this makes it even more important to anchor those claims in observable effects.
Patriarchy, racism, and colonization may be complex, emergent systems—but their manifestations can be traced: in healthcare access, sentencing patterns, hiring data, and cultural scripts. To say “it’s structural” is not to end inquiry, but to shift the scale of evidence. We ask not for reductionism, but for rigor.
Science in Practice: Three Glimpses into Falsifiability Across Paradigms
Example 1: The Propane Tap Test
While traveling in Mexico, I watched a young man strike a large propane tank several times with his knuckles, lean in close, listen, and write something on a pad. He then checked the gauge, wrote again, and walked away. Curious, I Googled: Can you tell how much propane is in a tank by tapping it?
The top response said flatly: No. The first propane site said: Yes. Both agreed that the “hot water method” was better.
So—what's true? And more importantly, what kind of science is at play here?
If we “jump to the left” and start at axiology, we can ask: what matters here? Do we care most about the accuracy of the propane reading, the efficiency of the method, or perhaps trust in the technician?
This is the place we suggest critical scholars not only fit best, but carry the greatest weight of voice and idea—by asking questions like: Who gets to decide what counts as knowing in this moment? The barefoot boy with the notebook? The propane sales website? The AI-generated Google result? Our axiological choices here instantiate the dance.
And so we begin our steps to the right—first by asking ontological questions: What is propane? A liquid? A gas? A pressure system? That leads us to epistemology: Can we know tank fullness directly, or only infer it through signs and tools? Finally, we reach method: Is tapping reliable? Is there a better test? How would we know?
At each step, science remains science—because each claim, observation, or inference is open to critique, refinement, or challenge.
Example 2: The Hermeneutics of Love
Imagine a qualitative researcher studying how love is expressed in a multi-generational Indian-American family. Through interviews, journal reflections, and storytelling sessions, the researcher collects narratives from grandparents, adult children, and teens—all describing what love looks and feels like in their lives.
At first, the findings might appear purely subjective. The grandmother equates love with food preparation. The teenage son with privacy. The father with quiet financial support.
But here’s the epistemic key: these interpretations can still be tested—not through numbers, but through challengeable coherence. Another scholar might question the researcher’s thematic interpretations: Did they miss contradictions? Did they over-prioritize one voice? Could an alternate reading of the data hold stronger internal or cultural resonance?
This is constructivist falsifiability. The claims aren’t immune to critique—they’re interpretively vulnerable.
And again, if we return to axiology: What matters here? Is love worth studying? What kind of understanding are we trying to build? What cultural or ethical commitments frame our entry point? These are the invisible roots from which the entire project grows.
Example 3: A Consideration of Religion and Science
To further illustrate this point, it is helpful to look at a domain where epistemology and axiology are often entangled: theological inquiry. Consider biblical scholar Bart Ehrman, who regularly confronts the charge that “critical” scholarship is just a way to undermine faith. In a blog post asking “Is critical biblical scholarship valid?”, he argues that modern scholars are not “trashing the Gospels,” but rather refusing to accept unfounded epistemic assumptions—especially those that block interaction with actual evidence.
In other words, certain forms of fundamentalist theology begin with presumptions so totalizing that they render all data irrelevant. Their claims cannot be falsified—because they cannot even be questioned. The text is true because it is true.
This, we argue, is functionally identical to what happens when critical scholarship makes power its unquestionable premise. When a scholar begins with the ontological claim that “reality is constituted by structural power”, followed by the epistemological claim that “knowledge is always and only shaped by those structures”, they foreclose the possibility of discovery. Power becomes not a hypothesis, but a doctrine.
This is not science. It is theology—just with a different deity.
Renaissance as Gentle Fracture
Returning to Science Without Abandoning Ourselves
That doesn’t mean power isn’t real. It means power must be studied, not presumed. If hierarchies are everywhere, they must be shown to operate predictably, detectably, and challengeably. Otherwise, we are no longer testing reality—we are affirming a worldview.
But there is a place where critical scholarship shines: axiology. When scholars begin by asking what should be studied, and why certain human experiences matter, they provide powerful moral and ethical direction for science. But from there, they must step to the right, into a methodological paradigm that can hold their claims accountable.
To date, only three such paradigms have shown they can do that: positivism, post-positivism, and constructivism.
These examples, taken together, reveal something deeper than just paradigmatic variation. They reveal a tension at the heart of modern inquiry: a pressure to collapse everything into either certainty or critique. But science was never meant to be static. Nor was it meant to bend to every performative tug of the cultural moment. It was meant to move—with rigor, with rhythm, and with risk.
And so, we arrive at the threshold of something softer, but no less demanding: a renaissance not born from revolution, but from return. A fracture, yes—but a gentle one. A willingness to break just enough to grow.
Renaissances do not always begin with trumpet blasts, sometimes, it is the turning of pages, met by the movement of eyes, fingers, breath and the renewed interest in classical antiquity and very human, simple, unadorned truths that ignites a scientific revolution.
Figure 2. The Tree of Scientific Inquiry, Method, Finding, and Theory
It is as though, across time, new, emergent scholars attempt to discover new branches on the tree of axiology. Only to find, the branches were smuggled in, not grown from science, but made from faux wood. That fractures, breaks, and falls to the base of the tree—not lost forever but composted into the very roots. There, it may take root again—this time from axiology—where it can earn its way, if warranted, into a new branch of science.
When any framework—whether scientific, theological, or theoretical—places its foundational assumptions beyond question, it ceases to function as a site of inquiry. This doesn’t mean its values are invalid, but that it now orbits more as doctrine than hypothesis. We need not banish these positions, but we should name their nature: they are guides for action, not engines of revision.
Science is a living, evolving endeavor—but it has a shape. A form. A process. It has withstood the rise and fall of empires. It has challenged the impossible. It has instilled fear, offered optimism, and opened worlds of possibility. And through it all, it has functioned upon a tether of trust: Between humans and humans. Between humans and evidence. And now—between humans, machines, and the uncertain light of discovery.
In this new era where machines participate in the co-creation of knowledge, our epistemic foundations must be robust. Axiology—the open naming of values—becomes not only the root of human inquiry, but the bridge for ethical machine collaboration. If we cannot challenge an AI’s conclusions, or our own, then we are not practicing science, we are performing simulation. To stay real, we must remain falsifiable.
References
Guba, E. G., & Lincoln, Y. S. (1994). Competing paradigms in qualitative research. Handbook of qualitative research, 2 (163-194), 105.
Popper, K. R. (1959). The propensity interpretation of probability. The British journal for the philosophy of science, 10 (37), 25-42.
Cresswell, J. (2013). Qualitative inquiry & research design: Choosing among five approaches.
Ehrman, (August 10, 2023). Is Critical Biblical Scholarship Valid? What the New Testament Itself Indicates! The Bart Ehrman Blog: The History & Literature of Early Christianity, https://ehrmanblog.org/is-critical-biblical-scholarship-valid-what-the-new-testament-itself-indicates.