A question that has vexed scholars for a long time is the source of human beings' sense of ethics and morals. Some would claim that our sense of morality is divinely inspired; others, such as this author, claim that can't be the case, as there likely is no such thing as a divine to be inspired by. And, inevitably, someone will say: "All right then, if God is insufficient, then can science provide a basis for morality?" Well... can it?

The whole question arises whenever someone challenges the idea that God has provided for mankind a set of morals. Often someone of religious conviction will point to the parts of his scripture that he finds supports a particular moral standard, and claim that what God wills, that should be. Though it may be the case that in reality his morals are not actually grounded in the book—as per Professor Dawkins' concept of the "shifting moral Zeitgeist"—this is ultimately irrelevant, as the mere claim of a divinely supported ethic is often disputed by those who do not share such religious convictions.

Understandably, the claim that our morals are not divinely inspired may cause a certain amount of disconcertment among those who rely on the idea to motivate his own actions. The question then comes as an exasperated retort: "If not God, then what? Science? How can science tell us what is wrong and what is right?"

At this point I should point out that here, one is in danger of falling into the pit known as the fallacy of the excluded middle, or false dilemma. Even if it is indeed the case that science cannot form a basis for morality, that's not sufficient reason to believe that religion necessarily can do so. There could be (and there are) hundreds of other options out there on which one may base morality, and the mere removal of one source does not automatically validate another. But, ultimately, this is an aside, and not what we're really here to talk about.

The implied claim is, of course, that science cannot guide us when it comes to ethics. The argument goes something like this: Science only provides explanations for how things work, what makes a hummingbird tick and what makes rocks fall to the ground—but what it doesn't tell us is how we should relate to these phenomena, and there are many things (such as human emotions) that science cannot explain that we nevertheless need to deal with if we want to consider ourselves moral, and here, science leaves us high and dry.

Well, almost, but not quite. It's true that the process of science is, and rightfully should be, concerned with how things work, not how to relate to them. The theory of general relativity isn't a moral theory at all, and generally unhelpful when it comes to deciding what I should and shouldn't do. The scientific method doesn't help me in dealing with other humans. It's also true that science cannot, as of right now, explain everything about the human condition. But, as it turns out, neither of these pose any real serious threat to someone who would argue that science can indeed help us establish a moral system.

Do note the slight shift in terms here—it is not the claim of this author that the scientific method is a direct moral guideline of any sort. However, I would claim that science can help us with our moral quandaries.

Let us consider a hypothetical example. Suppose that an insect—a wasp, perhaps—flies into your room during a hot summer day. If you're anything like me, you want rid of it, and you probably wouldn't hesitate to roll up a newspaper and swat the insect. You would have no moral qualms about ending the life of this insect (and even if you do, you're still making an informed moral choice when you decide whether to slay it or not). But imagine that tomorrow, a paper is published that indisputably proves, somehow, that wasps have not only highly developed nervous systems but are capable of rational thought and emotions just like humans (of course, the chance of this actually happening are virtually nonexistent—that's why this is a hypothetical example). Suddenly, I bet most of you would think twice about killing that wasp, when suddenly it's a thinking, rational being.

This revelation didn't come to you through religion, or through moral soul-searching. The discovery was a scientific one, and once you'd caught wind, your morals changed. No, science didn't directly cause you to change your mind, but your did change your mind after learning of this scientific discovery. This is the role that science plays in determining our morality—not as some kind of directly influencing moral counsellor, but as the context inside which we formulate our morals; and when it comes to morals, context is everything. Science guides our morals not through instruction, but through helping us understand the world and the consequences our choices have.

If a slightly less hypothetical example is desired, consider, for instance, the issue of abortion in modern society. Granted, there is a great deal of contention still going on, but I can absolutely assure you that there are people who have switched their moral standpoint on abortion upon learning—through the science of biology—that an ovum does not magically turn into a human fetus immediately upon fertilization, but rather spends a lot of time in an undeveloped state that can best be described as a clump of cells that is in fact not a human being by any sensible stretch of the word—and society as a whole generally has no moral qualms about removing from existence an unthinking blob of tissue that completely lacks consciousness, feelings, or even a brain or nervous system.

This revelation, that undeveloped fetuses are not actually humans, did not come through contemplation or philosophy: it came straight from scientific endeavour, and our stance on the moral issue changed dramatically. And, of course, this isn't the only case of science causing moral upheaval: our treatment of farm animals, our attitude towards passive smoking, and even the treatment of our fellow man (just think about how long Africans weren't considered truly to be human) are only a few examples of things that have changed drastically over the years due to our increased understanding of the natural world.

Of course, science is incomplete. We don't have all the answers, but at least we're looking for them. And the more we learn about the world, the better we become. So, while it's prudent to exercise a bit of caution when stepping into as-of-yet unexplored territory and forming moral conclusions, there is no reason to assume that we won't one day be capable of explaining even the most intricate mysteries of the universe—and it's a sure bet that as science marches on towards that lofty goal, our morals march along with it.