Some people believe that the impressive success of the scientific method in the course of the last couple of centuries is due to some inherent feature of science that makes it superior to any other area of human activity. Promoted by the academic circles and the market of knowledge, this belief tends to acquire the traits of a full-fledged religion, with the same devastating effect on the human spirituality. The superstition grows in the conditions of mass ignorance as to the origin of science and its place in the whole of culture. Indeed, controlling and manipulating the minds of the wide public is much easier when almost anything at all can be called science and thus endowed with a portion of the unlimited power of judgment. That is why any attempt to honestly outline the domain and the limits of science is important, to get rid of the artificially inflated authority for the sake of justifiable authority and well-grounded trust. On the other hand, it is only on the basis of a clear vision of the purpose that the inner organization of science could be consolidated and consciously improved.

To start with, let us agree with the majority of working scientists that their occupation has to do with some sort of highly gratifying and inspiring creativity. Those devoid of narcissist snobbism will also admit that there are other kinds of creativity, whatever a proud scientist might think of their (im)perfection. For the closest relatives, it is natural to consider art and philosophy which are akin to science in that they do not immediately produce things, but rather influence their production, in some vague and elusive manner. Let us assume that art, science and philosophy share a common realm, representing the three culturally distinguishable modes of operation.

Science is often said to be more attractive than its two companions, since it seems to produce direct prescriptions, something ready-made and immediately applicable. That is, the product of science (commonly known as knowledge) is to be learned, accepted as it is and operated as a black box. This feature can be exploited by politicians to impress the average mass and implant the thought of a mystical superiority of the scientist (which becomes hate when it comes to revolt).

This prejudice has no real justification. However explicit, the prescriptions of science can never be immediately usable, as they need to be roughened and adjusted to the ocean of detail that have been omitted in the scientific abstraction. Eventually, such purpose-trimmed knowledge may closely resemble an example (like the patterns of art) or a general principle (as suggested by philosophy). The portion of each source in a particular act will depend on the overall character of activity and the operating environment. Learning anything, we creatively transform it into an individually shaped hybrid, where the specific contributions are no longer separable. The trivial wisdom is to consider it as a normal and necessary feature of the cultural process, with the joint effort of all the modes of creativity and their unity embodied in the final product. The practical corollary of this idea is to stop talking about superiority and closer investigate the possibility of mutual enhancement.

As long as we stay inside science, it will remain incomprehensible mystery. The only possibility of definition comes from comparison to other entities of the same kind, that is, equally necessary and closely interacting. Such a common environment is to constitute a higher-level entity, correlating all the specific manifestations and developing them together, both historically and in the course of a parent activity. That is why, comparing science to art and philosophy, we must treat them on the same footing, as the complementary branches of the whole. This whole, in its turn, could be compared to some other phenomena and thus become as definite. In principle, the same technique is applicable on any level, leading to rather complex hierarchical structures; however, too ramified constructs can hardly be of practical importance, as the degree of interdependence of distant levels of hierarchy significantly grows with the overall complexity, and, on the current level of operation, simpler constructs of a different character could be much more appropriate. In particular, the structures of rather distant levels in a extensively unfolded hierarchy may seem the instances of the same structure, adding little to our understanding of hierarchical complexity.

With this reserve, let us proceed. A most general idea of science can (for instance) be derived from the fundamental structure of any activity implying an object, a conscious agent (the subject), and a final product to reproduce in a regular manner. This regularity means that the object area and the aptitude of the subject can be treated as the aspects of the product, so that the process of reproduction comprises three interdependent branches: material reproduction (industry), spiritual reproduction (reflexive action, self-production, creativity), and cultural reproduction (in the from of specific cultures and history); each thread can be considered as the synthesis of the other two. The names refer to the most general view of the world's self-reproduction: since there are no other worlds, the world as an object is what we call nature; as the universal subject, the world deserves the name of spirit; the rearrangement of the world due to conscious activity is culture as the unity of nature and spirit.

The actual degree of separation of the three modes of reproduction depends on the stage of development: basically, the aspects of the same are first mangled together (the syncretic state); later they become formally independent and opposite to each other (the analytical phase); as the interdependence of the different fields grows, complex synthetic forms come to life, lifting the interaction of components and incorporating it in a higher-level entity as inner motion. The same road is open for industry, spirituality, or cultural development taken as relatively closed and self-sustained. Specifically, our attention is to turn to the levels of creativity. There too, there is a syncretic layer related to the necessity of adjusting our behavior to the stream of the everyday life, with incidental whirls scattered over easy and smooth flow. Here, the stable core of the subject is reproduced in a system of habits and beliefs, as tradition and establishment. The creative solutions are built into the very course of activity, the decision being identical to the act. It is on the next, analytical level that the creative product will represent the modes of activity rather than industrial production, and its material implementation has nothing to do with its consumption value. Art, science and philosophy reflect the subject's organization in intentionally artificial forms, any reflection being thus separated from the reflected; that is why we call this stage analytical. People are perfectly aware of the prevalence of (certain aspects of) the subject in the product of their activity. However, the three levels of analytical self-reflection are very different in their choice of the mode of scheme transfer, the way they influence the regular (industrial) activity. This is where we seek for a general definition of science.

The product of art is to express the organization of activity in an implicit manner, as a sample of behavior corroborating its feasibility. Acquaintance with art is to tune the inner attitudes of the subject, as if suggesting to follow its ways. There is no difference whichever material will carry the message; moreover, artists are to explore all the open possibilities, to find the most vivid and subjectively persuasive implementations. The same inner pattern can arise from a variety of impressions; their hierarchy will be referred to as an artistic image.

Science is the opposite of art in the sense that quite different patterns are to be implemented in the same outer forms, the standard modes of action. This explicit expression is a kind of second-order reflection, when we reflect over the ways of our creativity, deliberately fixing the material of the product in addition to the conscious choice of content. Since any content is the unity of material and form, the invariance of material will inevitably make science formal. That is, instead of syncretically grasping the whole, a scientist is to show a wide range of outer relations of the object thus defining it an indirect manner, through a number of phenomenal hints. This may produce a double effect: since the object is defined through other objects, there is an impression of supreme objectivity, independence of the subject; on the other hand, the absence of direct reference feeds doubts about whether anything at all actually exits out there. To hold down this dilemma, people need a better social organization ensuring more collaboration with no division of labor (which does not deny flexible redistribution).

The opposition of art and science is to be eventually resolved in their unity. This requires a new level of analytical creativity representing this unifying effort as both the objective necessity and subjective choice. This is the primary mission of philosophy.

Philosophy is much like art, as it is free to choose any form of expression, any material implementation. On the other hand, philosophy is like science in that its product is to be obtained in a formalized manner, as an ultimate abstraction. This synthesis is possible through development of specific philosophical categories and categorial schemes combining the traits of both the artistic image and the scientific notion.

Knowledge as scientific product is a hierarchy of notions, each of them referring to a certain class of outer dependencies, the possible manifestations of the object. The same object can be reflected in many notions, according to its current place in the culture and the modes of reproduction. Thus, gas or fluid can be treated as a continuous medium; in a different context, they will be pictured as a collection of molecules. Similarly, a star can be described by its overall luminosity and color, while a closer look is to find a plasma ball. To choose the appropriate notion, we start from a practical need, gradually gathering the significant detail, which provides a lower-level context for minute distinctions. In science, this activity-centered hierarchical structure lying in the core of knowledge gets formally reversed: instead of a multi-faceted activity (as defined by its product), we start from a formally isolated object, expanding its notion in a hierarchical structure embracing a range of practical applications. That is, the primary question "how can we do it?" is now reformulated as "what can be done with that?" Either approach is perfectly justifiable; they complement each other. However, they will remain abstract opposites until we indicate the mechanism of their interaction, which brings us back to the apparently omitted subject link.

Since science has intentionally replaced the subject with a formal procedure, it can no longer develop on its own, without recourse to the outer sources of inspiration. A most abstract theory still needs situational prompts and hints; it has to borrow both its objects and methods from something beyond its domain. From within science (and cognition in general), such transcendental revelations may seem mystical and absolutely intractable, imposed by a supreme force, or innate to any thinker. To get rid of this uncanny turn, we must recall the creative companions of science, art and philosophy. The former provides preliminary abstractions ready to shape into notions; the latter suggests the directions of methodological development. It is important that science never deals with the raw experience of everyday life, and it never means any direct influence on the ways of industry and creativity. These relations are always mediated by art and philosophy, which, in a way, behave like loving parents providing their child for whatever it may need, while protecting it from too much complexity and engagement, to give enough room for play and try. A grown-up may forget about parental support, or even blame it; this does not undo the fact.

Growing among artists and philosophers, science will inevitably reflect that milieu in its inner structure. The three levels of analytical creativity reappear in any special research as empirical, theoretical, and methodological levels of a particular science. Since, in this hierarchy, theory plays the role of "science in science", some theoreticians (urged by politically biased philosophers) tend to despise observation and experiment as second-grade science, proclaiming formal constructs the only true knowledge; the formal aspects of methodology are then absorbed by such theory as a very limited and restricted kind of logic. However, any theoretical product is also subject to inner gradation, with phenomenological theories or conceptual models being as productive as apparently rigorous deductive schemes. There are no crisp boundaries, and the relics of art or philosophy will always show up in a most pretentious formalism.

Just like any creativity necessarily combines all the levels of hierarchy, science (as long as it deserves the name) requires an empirical background, implies certain methodological basis, and needs a kind of theory; depending on the placement of inner accents, the variety of the possible types of science comes to life, none of them being inferior to another in any respect. Similarly, scientific theory develops all its levels in parallel, with more stress often put to one of them, but the rest carefully packed inside. Any violation of this integrity, lack of due reserve and balance, will result in pseudoscience, regardless of the degree of explicit cultural presence.

Once again, starting with cultural syncretism (habits, intellect, skills), this presence develops various analytical forms (special sciences), whose interaction results in the synthetic idea of science. Since market economy is based on the universal division of labor, institutionalized forms of science take their place among the other market values, giving rise to numerous social bodies pretending to officially represent science as such. Most often, this academic establishment is alien to the current diversity of scientific thought; its primary concern is to appropriate the product, sell and resell it until the last traces of science are obliterated and political interest absolutely prevails. Unfortunately, such parasitic structures are much more visible to the wide public, and their apparently inviolable social status adds to the impression of "scientific objectivity", subject-devoid knowledge, which is firmly (that is, officially) established and not subject to change.

For a lay person, the authority of science is measurable by the level of investment and the income of professional scientists. This is the cultural aspect of science, its place in economy, as a specific product representing a class of activities. In the background, there still exist the objective and subjective aspects (the nature and spirit of science), picturing science as an occupation (regardless of social acceptance) or reflection as such (taking the form of inquisitiveness and curiosity). Each scientist combines these three levels in an individual proportion; as an echo of class struggle, some inclinations may contradict to the rest, bringing down the overall efficiency of science, its objective adequacy, and the degree of personal satisfaction. In particular, the market-oriented structure of institutionalized science often results in huge bulks of routine work devoid of a single glimpse of scientific creativity; this may scare away many talented minds who prefer remain off-stream amateurs rather than yield to social pressure and prostitute their gift. In a class-free economy, science will take much simpler and more straightforward forms, thus becoming accessible to the broadest range of those interested, and commonly affordable.

Since science is essentially formal, it is bound to develop a relatively closed subset of the common language incorporating the abstract structures that constitute the scientific vision of the object area, its notion. The commonality of the industrial schemes of activity leads to the resemblance of one conceptualization to another; in science this dependence is apparently reverted: the generality (and hence insufficiency) of the language of science is said to introduce a unified picture of the world, which seems to implemented some primary knowledge beyond questioning. Once again, in the class society, this tends to enhance the normative aspect of institutionalized science prescribing people what should be done instead of being sensitive to what they need. This is how science is manipulated by the ruling class into blind apologetics, "proving" anything that suits the wealthy customer. In particular the very idea of formal primacy is eagerly promoted, to prevent masses from striving for a better life.

The language of science is in no way restricted to words; most often, it includes schemes and formulas, notation standards, as well as certain conventions about the modes of clipping the common vision of the world into science. As the degree of formality increases, this slang becomes overgrown and almost incomprehensible, even by scientists. Hence the well-known maxim: just calculate, and never ask why. The academic community blames any attempts to clarify the meaning and sense as non-scientific and mean. Yes, the purpose of science is not science; but why should we lock ourselves within, forgetting about the immensity of the world around? That would dismiss the very idea of knowledge, as it happens to be knowledge about nothing.

In the class society, the governing circles are interested in the alienation of science from the mass, and that is why institutionalized science is urged to cultivate formality, diluting the notion in a terminological game. Being foreign to ordinary people, scientific language brings up an army of interpreters, explaining and explicating the supreme revelations in any possible way, thus fertilizing the soil for politically influenced vulgarization and brainwashing. From the reflective standpoint, such degradation of science is an indicator of its insufficiency, the objective necessity of switching to a different paradigm. That is, overcomplicated structures and exaggerated stress on computation, the race for precision and rigor, eventually lead science to a dead end; our notions have reached the limit of their applicability and further development will suggest a higher-level picture, to fold too extensive hierarchies in simpler and much more embraceable schemes easier to practically apply and transfer. That is exactly what any language (taken in its communicative function) is intended to do.

The two complementary aspects of this hierarchical vision concern the unlimited capacity of cognition and the absence of any ultimate goal. There is nothing in the world that could not be assimilated in human culture; on the other hand, no knowledge is absolutely comprehensive and complete. The hierarchy of notions will always grow both upwards and downwards, infinitely expanding its qualitative and quantitative diversity. This inherent incompleteness makes science truly objective, as it is to perfectly match the motion of the world as it is, including cultural history. However, thus understood, science is entirely different from both the vulgar yearning for a perfect reflection of nature as a ready-made something outside us, and from the positivist denial of any meaningfulness of knowledge at all. In the infinite world, there is no beginning, and no end. Still, every portion of that infinity, however infinite in itself, implies definite limits, and this is what science has to discover. Studying the inner organization of a thing, we come to the recognition of its bounds. This knowledge is twice objective, as it will reflect not only the world as it is but also its ability to change, and inevitability of change.

The original idea of reason does not stop at that. We can never be content with the change as such, regardless of hierarchical development. The next step is to acknowledge the progressive character of motion and comprehend the random flicker of inanimate nature and the rigidity of organic metabolism as manifestations of a universal order. Conscious activity is primarily the way the world implements the directedness of change, and it is our mission to determine and control that direction.