<p>Every year, National Science Day (February 28) offers an opportunity not only to celebrate discoveries, but also to reflect on the culture of science itself.</p><p>This culture is expressed in the spaces we create, the values we embed, and the norms we pass on to those entering the scientific enterprise. Institutions shape minds not only through curricula and research, but through everyday practices that quietly signal what is normal, and who feels at home.</p><p>In many scientific and educational institutions, religious ceremonies and observances are now commonplace. For some, they offer familiarity and comfort; for others, they evoke unease. This tension raises an important question: what does neutrality mean in shared scientific spaces?</p><p>Refraining from organising such events within institutional premises does not imply a dismissal of faith or tradition. Nor is it a call to abandon one’s cultural or religious heritage. The moot question is whether religious rituals should be conducted publicly in institutions dedicated to scientific pursuits?</p><p><strong>The illusion of inclusivity</strong></p><p>Institutionalised rituals are often deemed inclusive because everyone is free to participate. But inclusivity is not just about permission; it depends on whether participation is effortless or places the burden of adjustment on individuals.</p><p>When a ritual drawn from a majority culture becomes routine in shared institutional spaces, students and staff from non-dominant belief systems may participate out of courtesy, conformity, or a quiet need to belong. What is rarely asked is whether the same ease would exist in reverse — whether the majority would feel equally comfortable participating in the rituals and celebrations of other traditions. In this asymmetry, consensus is sustained not by force but through a subtle social cost that largely remains invisible to the majority. For those outside the dominant culture, opting out may feel less like a choice and more like a social transgression. Academic institutions should be alert to precisely such unexamined normalisation, and unintended alienation.</p><p><strong>Neutrality is the core of science</strong></p><p>Scientific institutions exist to produce reliable knowledge through rigorous, open, and evidence-based inquiry. Rituals, by design, seek to ward off fear, promise certainty and success, and keep failures at bay. Science, by contrast, advances by questioning and embracing uncertainty, treating failure not as a stigma but as an essential step in the process of discovery. It requires a commitment to methodological rigour, intellectual honesty, scepticism, risk-taking, and the freedom to question. These qualities flourish best in symbolically neutral spaces. It is counterproductive when the energy of young researchers is divided between the pursuit of scientific knowledge and the management of symbols and rituals.</p><p>A similar asymmetry is visible in the routine functioning of mainstream science. Conferences, workshops, and academic events are often opened with invocations to a particular deity, or marked by the ceremonial exchange of religious symbols and texts. These practices may be well-intentioned, but they establish a cultural default that is not neutral. For participants from different faiths, or from no faith at all, such gestures introduce an unnecessary layer of symbolic imbalance into spaces that are meant to be professionally universal.</p><p><strong>Meaningful alternatives</strong></p><p>Academic institutions already sustain rich and vibrant forms of shared life through regular seminars, lively debates, informal interactions, collaborative work, public outreach, and activities centred on music, art, and sport. These are not peripheral; they are central to how academic communities can build connection, curiosity, and create shared meaning.</p><p>Beyond this, if we wish to celebrate learning and seek inspiration collectively, we must be willing to invent imaginative ways that are inclusive in both spirit and form, and carry meaning and solemnity without invoking a specific tradition. A conference might begin with the planting of a sapling, a brief acknowledgement of what remains unknown, or by reflecting on a major unsolved problem. Designing and adopting such alternatives is not a departure from scientific pursuit, it is an extension of it.</p><p>The outside world is shaped by identity, belief, and differences. These are important aspects of human life. But the laboratory, classroom, and research campus can offer something distinct: a space of shared inquiry rather than shared beliefs, where these differences need not be negotiated at every step. This does not require anyone to renounce their personal convictions. On the contrary, there is dignity in keeping faith within personal boundaries, drawing strength from it privately, while bringing one’s full professional self to the workplace.</p><p>In doing so, we do not diminish tradition; we strengthen the conditions for good science, which is vital for a self-reliant and forward-looking society.</p><p><em><strong>Ravinder Banyal is a scientist, Indian Institute of Astrophysics, Bengaluru. Views are personal.</strong></em></p><p>(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)<br></p>
<p>Every year, National Science Day (February 28) offers an opportunity not only to celebrate discoveries, but also to reflect on the culture of science itself.</p><p>This culture is expressed in the spaces we create, the values we embed, and the norms we pass on to those entering the scientific enterprise. Institutions shape minds not only through curricula and research, but through everyday practices that quietly signal what is normal, and who feels at home.</p><p>In many scientific and educational institutions, religious ceremonies and observances are now commonplace. For some, they offer familiarity and comfort; for others, they evoke unease. This tension raises an important question: what does neutrality mean in shared scientific spaces?</p><p>Refraining from organising such events within institutional premises does not imply a dismissal of faith or tradition. Nor is it a call to abandon one’s cultural or religious heritage. The moot question is whether religious rituals should be conducted publicly in institutions dedicated to scientific pursuits?</p><p><strong>The illusion of inclusivity</strong></p><p>Institutionalised rituals are often deemed inclusive because everyone is free to participate. But inclusivity is not just about permission; it depends on whether participation is effortless or places the burden of adjustment on individuals.</p><p>When a ritual drawn from a majority culture becomes routine in shared institutional spaces, students and staff from non-dominant belief systems may participate out of courtesy, conformity, or a quiet need to belong. What is rarely asked is whether the same ease would exist in reverse — whether the majority would feel equally comfortable participating in the rituals and celebrations of other traditions. In this asymmetry, consensus is sustained not by force but through a subtle social cost that largely remains invisible to the majority. For those outside the dominant culture, opting out may feel less like a choice and more like a social transgression. Academic institutions should be alert to precisely such unexamined normalisation, and unintended alienation.</p><p><strong>Neutrality is the core of science</strong></p><p>Scientific institutions exist to produce reliable knowledge through rigorous, open, and evidence-based inquiry. Rituals, by design, seek to ward off fear, promise certainty and success, and keep failures at bay. Science, by contrast, advances by questioning and embracing uncertainty, treating failure not as a stigma but as an essential step in the process of discovery. It requires a commitment to methodological rigour, intellectual honesty, scepticism, risk-taking, and the freedom to question. These qualities flourish best in symbolically neutral spaces. It is counterproductive when the energy of young researchers is divided between the pursuit of scientific knowledge and the management of symbols and rituals.</p><p>A similar asymmetry is visible in the routine functioning of mainstream science. Conferences, workshops, and academic events are often opened with invocations to a particular deity, or marked by the ceremonial exchange of religious symbols and texts. These practices may be well-intentioned, but they establish a cultural default that is not neutral. For participants from different faiths, or from no faith at all, such gestures introduce an unnecessary layer of symbolic imbalance into spaces that are meant to be professionally universal.</p><p><strong>Meaningful alternatives</strong></p><p>Academic institutions already sustain rich and vibrant forms of shared life through regular seminars, lively debates, informal interactions, collaborative work, public outreach, and activities centred on music, art, and sport. These are not peripheral; they are central to how academic communities can build connection, curiosity, and create shared meaning.</p><p>Beyond this, if we wish to celebrate learning and seek inspiration collectively, we must be willing to invent imaginative ways that are inclusive in both spirit and form, and carry meaning and solemnity without invoking a specific tradition. A conference might begin with the planting of a sapling, a brief acknowledgement of what remains unknown, or by reflecting on a major unsolved problem. Designing and adopting such alternatives is not a departure from scientific pursuit, it is an extension of it.</p><p>The outside world is shaped by identity, belief, and differences. These are important aspects of human life. But the laboratory, classroom, and research campus can offer something distinct: a space of shared inquiry rather than shared beliefs, where these differences need not be negotiated at every step. This does not require anyone to renounce their personal convictions. On the contrary, there is dignity in keeping faith within personal boundaries, drawing strength from it privately, while bringing one’s full professional self to the workplace.</p><p>In doing so, we do not diminish tradition; we strengthen the conditions for good science, which is vital for a self-reliant and forward-looking society.</p><p><em><strong>Ravinder Banyal is a scientist, Indian Institute of Astrophysics, Bengaluru. Views are personal.</strong></em></p><p>(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)<br></p>