LYOTARD, METANARRATIVE, AND SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE

Jean-François Lyotard

What do we mean by “learn new knowledge?” A typical answer might be that we learn physics principles, mathematical derivations, or strategies of enterprises to maximize profit. Much of our knowledge lies in the domain of science, as we name science as “principles of the world.”

However, this long been taken-for- granted assumption about science is challenged and subverted by Jean-François Lyotard, a 20th-century French philosopher, elaborating how we think about science, truth, and power in modern societies. His key insight is simple but radical: what we call “scientific knowledge” isn’t an objective, universal truth- it’s shaped by the narratives we tell, the rules we follow, and who gets to decide what counts as “true.” His theory centers on the critique of metanarratives (a hot concept these years) and emphasizes the fragmented, pluralistic nature of knowledge in contemporary societies. His analysis integrates the relationship between knowledge, discourse, and power, offering a radical departure from Enlightenment ideals of universal truth and progress. Science, as he argues, is entangled with power structures, shaped by the rules of language and the interests of those who control its production.

Lyotard’s starting point is his famous declaration of “incredulity toward metanarratives” in The Postmodern Condition (1979). Metanarratives are overarching stories societies use to legitimize their values and institutions.

The Postmodern Condition

These narratives claim transcendent authority, positioning themselves as foundational truths that unify human experience and justify historical progress. For Lyotard, metanarratives are not merely stories but epistemic frameworks that structure how societies understand truth, morality, and power. For example, Enlightenment science claimed authority by positioning itself as a universal truth that would liberate humanity from ignorance and drive progress. Similarly, history in Hegelian/Marxist dialectics is framed as a teleological process- a march toward classless society (Marx) or the realization of the Absolute Spirit (Hegel)- where knowledge serves as a tool for revolutionary transformation. Thus, metanarratives such as narratives are not neutral descriptions but performative constructs that tend to provide an a priori justification for why certain forms of knowledge (e.g., science) should be privileged over others (e.g., myth, tradition).

Metanarratives usually hold certain features, including appealing to:

• Universality: apply to all people, times, and cultures (e.g., “scientific laws govern nature everywhere”)

• Teleology: posit an endpoint or purpose (e.g., “progress,” “communism,” “technological utopia”)

• Legitimation: Justify institutional power by linking it to a higher moral or epistemic goal (e.g., “science serves humanity”)

• Self-referentiality: validate themselves by appealing to their own internal logic, creating a closed system of legitimacy (e.g., Enlightenment narrative justifies scientific authority by appealing to the Enlightenment ideal of rationality)

  
  

Nevertheless, in postmodernity, these metanarratives have collapsed. People no longer uncritically accept claims to universal truth or progress. This incredulity toward metanarratives, a widespread skepticism about their validity, arises from several aspects. Firstly, Lyotard himself, living from 1924 to 1998, witnessed World War II and the Holocaust, which exposed the irrationality and outrage of human history. The historical disillusionment, for example, Auschwitz, Stalinism, Hiroshima, exposed the failure of grand narratives like “progress” or “emancipation” to deliver their promised utopias. Besides, Globalization and decolonization movements revealed the existence of multiple, incommensurable knowledge systems (e.g., indigenous cosmologies, feminist critiques), undermining claims to universal truth. The collapse of metanarratives leaves a legitimation vacuum. Without grand stories to justify its authority, scientific knowledge can no longer claim inherent superiority. Science, once seen as an impartial arbiter of reality, is now exposed as just one way of understanding the world—no more inherently valid than cultural traditions, art, or personal experience.

This fragmentation creates a crisis: if science can’t rely on grand narratives like “progress” to justify itself, how does it maintain authority? Lyotard introduces the idea of language games. Lyotard borrows the concept of language games from philosopher and linguistics Ludwig Wittgenstein to explain how knowledge operates. Each domain of knowledge- science, religion, ethics, art- functions like a game with its own rules. These rules define what counts as valid within that discourse. For science, the rules include empirical verification, logical consistency, and peer review. A claim like “gravity bends light” is valid only if it follows these procedural rules. Essentially, these rules are not neutral or universal- they’re set by the communities that control the game. They are created and enforced by the communities that control the discourse. For instance, scientific knowledge is validated through institutions like universities, journals, and funding institutions, which gatekeep what gets published or funded. This system inherently marginalizes forms of knowledge that don’t “play by the rules,” such as indigenous ecological practices or oral histories. Lyotard’s point is stark: knowledge is not about truth alone—it’s about whose rules we follow.

The operation of rules cannot be successful separated from the underlying power structure.  Lyotard believed that knowledge and power are deeply linked. Those who control the rules of a language game—governments, corporations, and academic institutions—also control what society deems legitimate and what knowledge matters. For example, climate science gains authority not just through data but through its alignment with political agendas, funding priorities, and media amplification. Conversely, knowledge that challenges power structures (e.g., critiques of industrial capitalism) may be dismissed as “unscientific” or “ideological.” As knowledge becomes digitized, it is increasingly reduced to data—information that can be quantified, commodified, and controlled. Tech corporations and governments prioritize research that serves efficiency, profit, or surveillance, sidelining knowledge that resists digitization, such as embodied cultural practices. This creates a legitimation crisis: without grand narratives, science’s authority now rests on performativity—its usefulness to systems of power.

Science isn’t a neutral search for truth—it’s a tool shaped by power dynamics. This doesn’t mean science is “wrong,” but its authority depends on whose rules we follow and who benefits. This perspective leads to pluralism: the recognition that no single discourse holds a monopoly on truth. Lyotard advocates for embracing diverse ways of knowing- scientific, artistic, ethical, and cultural- while remaining critical of the power dynamics that elevate some and silence others. In a world where no single story can claim ultimate truth, Lyotard urges us to embrace pluralism: valuing diverse ways of knowing while staying critical of who gets to decide what “counts” as knowledge. Lyotard’s ideas force us to rethink science’s role in society. Can societies function without shared truths? How do we negotiate conflicts between competing knowledges? These are all questions we confront in Lyotard’s theoretical framework.