No science is immune to the infection of politics and the

“No science is immune to the infection of politics and the corruption of power.” Thus spoke Jacob Bronowski, the poet-scientist, who wandered the paths of history and saw with his own eyes the ruins of Auschwitz, where knowledge had been twisted into a weapon of death. His words are not the musings of idle philosophy, but the testimony of one who knew that science, though noble and radiant, can be seized by darker forces. For knowledge, like fire, may warm or may consume; it is the hands that wield it, guided by power and politics, that determine its fate.

In these words lies a warning: science does not dwell in a realm untouched by human ambition. It is not an ivory tower beyond the reach of greed, fear, or pride. The pursuit of knowledge is pure in essence, but the structures that fund it, direct it, and use it are steeped in human desires. Politics can guide discovery toward justice, or it can bend it toward oppression. Power can build bridges and medicines, or it can forge bombs and prisons. Bronowski reminds us that to imagine science as untouchable is folly; it lives among men, and therefore it is vulnerable to their corruption.

History bears witness to this truth. Recall the Manhattan Project, where brilliant minds gathered to unravel the atom. Their pursuit began in curiosity, yet under the shadow of war it was swiftly commandeered by governments. The result was not only insight into the structure of matter, but also the birth of the atomic bomb—power vast enough to end cities in an instant. Knowledge, bound to politics and power, unleashed destruction upon Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The brilliance of discovery was stained with the agony of its use. Here, Bronowski’s warning resounds: no science, however exalted, escapes the touch of power.

Nor is this tale confined to war. In the age of eugenics, cloaked as science, governments declared some lives worthy and others expendable. What began as theories of heredity was twisted into policies of sterilization, segregation, and ultimately genocide. The infection of politics turned inquiry into ideology, and ideology into cruelty. What should have been the study of life became the justification for death. Again we see that the corruption of power seeps into the heart of science unless guarded by conscience.

Yet let us not despair. The very act of naming this danger is itself a shield. Bronowski does not call us to abandon science, but to guard it with vigilance. If science is vulnerable to corruption, then it is the task of every generation to keep it tethered to truth and service. Scientists must cultivate humility, leaders must govern with restraint, and citizens must demand accountability. Only then can knowledge serve light rather than darkness, healing rather than harm.

The ancients would tell us: every gift of the gods demands reverence. Fire, once stolen by Prometheus, brought warmth and craft, but also war and ruin. So too with science—a divine flame that must be tended with care. Without virtue, it consumes; with virtue, it illuminates. The infection of politics may never be wholly banished, but it can be restrained when men and women act with integrity. This is the eternal struggle: not between science and ignorance, but between science in service of power and science in service of truth.

So, O listener, engrave this lesson upon your heart: never trust knowledge divorced from morality, never trust power unchecked by conscience. Ask always—not only what we can do, but why we do it, and for whom. In your own life, let your learning be guided by justice, let your skills serve the greater good, and let your voice defend truth when others would twist it. For as Bronowski teaches, no science is immune; but with vigilance, courage, and humility, its infection can be healed, and its light can shine uncorrupted for the generations to come.