Originally Posted by
Lorendiac
Well, this raises questions of just what we mean by "science" in the first place.
I mentioned the example of gunpowder earlier. My point was that any person of normal intelligence is capable of memorizing the formula for black powder, and then mixing up a barrel of it on his own time from the basic ingredients of sulfur, saltpeter, and charcoal, if he knows exactly what he's doing. And after he's prepared the stuff, he can use it in an old-fashioned musket, or set a fuse and arrange for the entire barrel to blow up at once in order to clear some pesky rocks out of his way, or whatever it is he feels like doing. The relevant laws of chemistry and physics work the same way for everybody!
On the other hand, imagine a world where the only way to make "gunpowder" was to cast a magic spell. It involved taking a barrelful of an inert substance (or mixture of substances) and chanting a spell over it while making certain ritual gestures. And suppose it was established that there were only about a thousand people in the known world who could actually do this and end up with a load of gunpowder as a result! Everyone else could mimic the exact words and the exact gestures, but absolutely nothing would happen to the contents of the barrel, because the gods (or whatever cosmic forces were running things) simply did not see fit to give most mortals the mystical ability to transmute raw materials into gunpowder. To me, that would be a sharp example of the difference between "magic" and "science." Science is supposed to work by consistent rules for anyone who tries to duplicate a certain process and gets each step exactly right; magic is far more arbitrary and won't work for most people no matter how cleverly and diligently they try!
P.S. On the other hand, a classic SF novel, Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen (by H. Beam Piper) had the hero -- a Pennysylvania State Trooper -- suddenly end up in a parallel world (medieval technology was as far as they'd gotten) where a certain secretive "priesthood" basically claimed that my second scenario was correct -- "only those of us who have been blessed with divine authority can create the magical substance known as gunpowder, and we charge an arm and a leg for it!" But of course the hero was able to share, with his new friends in a local castle, the revelation that the first scenario was actually correct: It was all just a matter of knowing the secret ingredients and the correct process to use, and once you knew how, anyone could whip up a nice big batch of fresh gunpowder! (He naturally was denounced by the relevant priesthood as a dangerous heretic who must have sold his soul to a demon in order to gain a new magic spell which would allow him to appear to replicate the Sacred Process of Making Gunpowder.) But the way I look at it -- if he had suddenly discovered that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make "real gunpowder," but the local priests could, then that would have proved that he had now entered a world where "science" didn't work the way it was supposed to, and "magic" was going strong!