SCIENCE is in crisis, just when we need it most. Two years ago, C. Glenn Begley and Lee M. Ellis reported in Nature that they were able to replicate only six out of 53 “landmark” cancer studies. Scientists now worry that many published scientific results are simply not true. The natural sciences often offer themselves as a model to other disciplines. But this time science might look for help to the humanities, and to literary criticism in particular.

A major root of the crisis is selective use of data. Scientists, eager to make striking new claims, focus only on evidence that supports their preconceptions. Psychologists call this “confirmation bias”: We seek out information that confirms what we already believe. “We each begin probably with a little bias,” as Jane Austen writes in “Persuasion,” “and upon that bias build every circumstance in favor of it.”

Despite the popular belief that anything goes in literary criticism, the field has real standards of scholarly validity. In his 1967 book “Validity in Interpretation,” E. D. Hirsch writes that “an interpretive hypothesis,” about a poem “is ultimately a probability judgment that is supported by evidence.” This is akin to the statistical approach used in the sciences; Mr. Hirsch was strongly influenced by John Maynard Keynes’s “A Treatise on Probability.”

However, Mr. Hirsch also finds that “every interpreter labors under the handicap of an inevitable circularity: All his internal evidence tends to support his hypothesis because much of it was constituted by his hypothesis.” This is essentially the problem faced by science today. According to Mr. Begley and Mr. Ellis’s report in Nature, some of the nonreproducible “landmark” studies inspired hundreds of new studies that tried to extend the original result without verifying if the original result was true. A claim is not likely to be disproved by an experiment that takes that claim as its starting point. Mr. Hirsch warns about falling “victim to the self-confirmability of interpretations.”