This article analyses the intellectual and institutional development of the artificial-intelligence (AI) research programme within the Soviet Academy of Sciences from the 1970s to the 1980s. Considering the places and ideas from which it borrowed, I contextualize its goals and projects as part of a larger technoscientific movement aimed at rationalizing Soviet governance, and unpack shared epistemological and cultural assumptions. By tracing their origins to debates accompanying the introduction of cybernetics into Soviet intellectual and political life in the 1950s and early 1960s, I show how Soviet conceptions of ‘thinking machines’ interacted with dialectical materialism and communist socio-technical imaginaries of governance and control. The programme of ‘situational management’ developed by Dmitry Pospelov helps explain the resulting conception of AI as control systems aimed at solving complex tasks that cannot be fully formalized and therefore require new modelling methods to represent real-world situations. This specific orientation can be understood, on the one hand, as a research programme competing with systems analysis and economic cybernetics to rationalize Soviet management, and, on the other hand, as a field trying to demarcate itself from a purely statistical or mathematical approach to modelling cognitive processes.

Like the polar bear beleaguered by global warming, artificial intelligence (AI) serves as the charismatic megafauna of an entangled set of local and global histories of science, technology and economics. This Themes issue develops a new perspective on AI that moves beyond conventional origin myths – AI was invented at Dartmouth in the summer of 1956, or by Alan Turing in 1950 – and reframes contemporary critique by establishing plural genealogies that situate AI within deeper histories and broader geographies. ChatGPT and art produced by AI are described as generative but are better understood as forms of pastiche based upon the use of existing infrastructures, often in ways that reflect stereotypes. The power of these tools is predicated on the fact that the Internet was first imagined and framed as a ‘commons’ when actually it has created a stockpile for centralized control over (or the extraction and exploitation of) recursive, iterative and creative work. As with most computer technologies, the ‘freedom’ and ‘flexibility’ that these tools promise also depends on a loss of agency, control and freedom for many, in this case the artists, writers and researchers who have made their work accessible in this way. Thus, rather than fixate on the latest promissory technology or focus on a relatively small set of elite academic pursuits born out of a marriage between logic, statistics and modern digital computing, we explore AI as a diffuse set of technologies and systems of epistemic and political power that participate in broader historical trajectories than are traditionally offered, expanding the scope of what ‘history of AI’ is a history of.

The snow leopard is a highly charismatic megafauna that elicits admiration, concern and donations from individuals and NGOs in the West. In its home territories, however, it is a threat to local communities' livestock and a potential source of income for its pelt and parts. Conservation and study are further challenged by its range; snow leopards traverse the borders separating China, India and ten other countries with long histories of tension with each other as well as internal political and economic struggles. This transnational animal provides an ideal case study for the consideration of transnational conservation science in the recent past.

Given that purely scientific accounts of ‘environmental performance’ and ‘development’ cannot fully explain the environment and its interactions with people, this paper investigates how nature has been historically and sociopolitically defined in different societies. The analyses and observations presented in this paper are based on a critical literature review and on case studies of two ‘coal capitals’, one in Guizhou in China and the other in Jharkhand in India. The study examines the historical representations of environmental campaigns (particularly from the 1950s to the 1990s) in the two countries, and discusses how historical, sociopolitical and ideological factors have affected conceptualizations of nature and how they are reflected nowadays in people's narratives concerning the environment. The paper concludes that the Chinese pattern of development, as well as of knowledge construction, reflects a greater intention of homogenizing the public with the language of development deployed by the centralized power; meanwhile, the Indian pattern allows a greater space for the representation of conflicts, including people's struggles against the state. The comparative analysis enriches our understanding of people's responses to official perceptions of the environment endorsed by modern science and governance.

The idea that a public and secular institution was needed to prepare citizens for higher education proliferated throughout Europe during the nineteenth century. However, because of local political, economic and social contexts the underlying model of what is now meant by secondary education has developed differently in each country. This essay provides a historical account of the development of secondary education in Portugal, in what concerns the study of nature (zoology, botany, geology and mineralogy) in liceus, during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. In particular, the importance given to specimens and collections will be emphasized. The emergence of laboratory-based teaching never replaced traditional approaches centred on observation of specimens. By focusing on the Portuguese case, this article aims ultimately to contribute to a broader understanding of the secondary-educational model implemented throughout Europe in the nineteenth century.

In a period of anti-colonial political struggle and conservative reaction against liberal social reform in India, a band of Bengali men and women reached out to children through magazines with the intention of moulding them so that they would grow up to aid their nation's material progress and uphold a society bereft of colonial indignities and traditional injustices. Integral to this agenda was the attempt to explain the physical world scientifically to them, to make them knowledgeable, and to forge them into rational beings capable of looking at society critically. They wished the young to harbour a compassionate attitude towards nature, but they characterized the modern Western scientific way of knowing about the physical world as the only one worth imbibing, thereby infusing in children a bias against all who thought and lived otherwise. This science instruction was the endeavour of the avant-garde, an iconic hegemonic milieu that left its imprint in social reform and political struggle in colonial Bengali society for a long time.

This paper explores the hoarding, collecting and occasional display of old apparatus in new laboratories. The first section uses a 1936 exhibition of Cambridge's scientific relics as a jumping-off point to survey the range of historical practices in the various Cambridge laboratories. This panoramic approach is intended to show the variety and complexity of pasts that scientists had used material to conjure in the years prior to the exhibition. Commerce and commemoration emerge as two key themes. The second part turns to the Cavendish Laboratory (experimental physics) to explore the highly specific senses of time and memorialization at play in the early years of the laboratory (c.1874–1910), and the way these were transformed over the subsequent generations leading up to the 1936 moment. The key figure here is James Clerk Maxwell, whose turn to history involved a mix of antiquarianism and modernism. The paper concludes with an attempt to characterize the meanings and significances of ‘the museum in the lab’. This phenomenon ought to be understood in terms of the wide range of ‘collections’ present in laboratory spaces.

In the 1960s, creativity became an important category for the Soviet state. Soviet educators and policy makers came to define creativity as problem solving in the service of Soviet automation. At the same time, the introduction of cybernetics, information theory and methods of artificial intelligence (AI) to psychology enabled Soviet researchers to perform quantitative studies of human cognition. The state concern with creative thinking and the cyberneticization of Soviet psychology allowed for the first quantitative studies of human problem solving. These shifts in Soviet society and scientific communities created fertile ground for the creation of Lev Landa's algo-heuristic theory (AHT), a pedagogical method of cultivating rule-bound creativity relying on tools and instruments developed and perfected in information theory and AI research. Drawing on scholarship in the history of algorithmic rationality, the Cold War discourse on creativity as a corporate imperative, and the place of cybernetics-inflected methods in the welfare domain, this article analyses the AHT as rule-based instrument of making creative thinking accessible to the lay mind.

The epistemic and aesthetic dimensions of taste are always inscribed in conceptions of the social order that the discourse on taste simultaneously enacts and rationalizes, while veiling the logics of difference and power it thereby affirms and reproduces. This article illustrates the entanglement of social and intellectual hierarchies that anchors the resolution of the problem of taste in the mechanisms of social distinction and erasure. It does so by examining four socio-epistemic configurations in the history of Western knowledge. The first vignette contextualizes the original devaluation of taste in the competition between the Socratic philosophers and epistemic labourers whose elevation of taste disrupted the Athenian aristocratic order. The second vignette explores the entanglement of humoural theory with the racial and religious orders of the premodern age, as imperial encounters threatened European identity brought into contact with the tastes of others. The third vignette examines how the epistemic status of gustatory taste became anchored in the hierarchy of cultural taste within British empirical philosophy. Finally, the paper tracks new forms of social distinction in the resistance to the globalization of food systems and to the democratization of culinary tastes, as manifested in the constitution of an exclusivist ‘standard of taste’ for wine appreciation.

In the course of his discussion of the origin of variations in skin colour among humans in the Descent of Man, Charles Darwin suggested that darker skin might be correlated with immunity to certain diseases. To make that suggestion, he drew upon a claim that seemed self-evidently correct in 1871, although it had seemed almost certainly incorrect in the late eighteenth century: that immunity to disease could be understood as a hereditary racial trait. This paper aims to show how fundamental was the idea of ‘constitutions selection’, as Darwin would call it, for his thinking about human races, tracking his (ultimately unsuccessful) attempts to find proof of its operation over a period of more than thirty years. At the same time and more broadly, following Darwin's conceptual resources on this question helps explicate relationships between conceptions of disease and conceptions of race in the nineteenth century. That period saw the birth of a modern, fixist, biologically determinist racism, which increasingly manifested itself in medical writings. The reverse was also true: medicine was a crucial site in which race was forged. The history of what has been called ‘race-science’, it is argued, cannot and should not be written independent of the history of ‘race-medicine’.

This essay approaches the knowledge required to write up and use instructions with a specific method. It relies on specific procedures taken from the Chinese canon The Nine Chapters on Mathematical Procedures (九章算術), which, in the author's view, was completed in the first century CE. These procedures enabled readers to do things. To analyse the type of knowledge required to produce these texts of procedures and to use them, the essay puts into play two layers of commentary. The ancient layer was written between the third and the seventh centuries, whereas the later layer was composed between the eleventh and the thirteenth centuries. The author shows that these two layers of commentary read the same text of procedure differently, using different approaches and understanding it differently. The author also shows how the two layers of commentary use mathematical problems to approach a procedure, even though problems are used differently in the two contexts. This illustrates how, in different contexts, actors interpreted the same instructional text differently, both with respect to what the text meant and with respect to how one could make sense of it.

In this introduction, we argue that the time is right to explore the role that taste has played in the history of science. For a long time, scientists, philosophers and historians regarded taste as incompatible with the production of knowledge, contrasting the apparent subjectivity of taste with the objectivity supposedly required by the sciences. In recent years, however, the intellectual foundations of this presumed incompatibility have broken down, presenting us with new opportunities to reassess how people use the sensory and mental operations of taste to obtain scientific knowledge. This introduction therefore begins by surveying the intellectual and scholarly landscape, seeking to explain the relative lack of attention to taste in the history of science, arguing that this inattention is misplaced. In turn, it continues by discussing the work that has led growing numbers of historians of science to take taste more seriously – most notably historical accounts revealing that the exclusion of taste from the domain of knowledge was the product of contingent circumstances that did not apply in early centuries, and may not apply today. Finally, by way of introducing the contributions to this issue, the introduction discusses the methodological innovations deployed by historians of science to better reckon not only with taste, but also with the forms of knowledge to which taste might lead.

In 2015 Dhruv Raina published Needham's Indian Network: The Search for a Home for the History of Science in India (1950–1970), bringing to light the long-range networks that institutionalized the disciplinary history of science in post-colonial India, and demonstrating the intellectual and infrastructural contributions of Joseph Needham (1900–1995) in this endeavour. This paper takes a different approach and turns to the way that Needham perceived Indian vis-à-vis Chinese civilization, and the role India played in Needham's historiography of science. It turns out that Needham's most sustained engagement with India could be found in his histories of medicine, bodily practices and alchemical traditions. In the first section of the paper, I outline the key concepts of ‘Grand Titration’ and ‘oecumenical science’ that animated Needham's historiography, which clarifies why Chinese medicine, especially acupuncture, occupies a privileged status. The second section elaborates on Needham's scholarship and vision of acupuncture, involving the verification of acupuncture's reality and efficacy via Western biomedicine. He thought acupuncture would be China's unique contribution to a new ‘universal medicine’ in the modern age, but by contrast Needham saw little worth refurbishing in Indian medicine, arguing via an investigation in yoga that Indian practices were generally less ‘materialist’ and less ‘proto-scientific’. In the third section, I turn my attention to Needham's preoccupation with the history of alchemy around the world, and discuss his theorization on transmission and circulation of scientific knowledge. I comment on Needham's commitment to the thesis that European alchemy was a melting pot of Chinese, Indian, Persian, Arabic, Greek, Egyptian and Roman ideas and practices. While Needham reserved his ‘deepest love’ and ‘profoundest desire’ for Chinese civilization, India on the other hand often occupied a secondary status in his historical accounts, and in the conclusion I move from a critique of Needham's preconceptions to reflect on the writing of the history of non-Western science.

Although the findings of the discipline of palaeontology had been rich enough since the 1830s to render a chronological history of nature conceivable, a recognizable genre fulfilling this purpose did not fully emerge until the 1860s. The lapse of time was largely due to the conceptual and formal difficulties of marrying content of adequate empirical credibility to a narrative of adequate readability. Early efforts were made by pedagogues and popularizers more than by men of science. This article considers four examples of such pieces, written between 1828 and 1837, and studies the ways in which their authors experimented with traditional and less traditional pedagogical formats in their various attempts to promote specific outlooks on the nature of natural process and on the place of empirical science in the education of their essentially middle-class audiences. It argues that the particular requisites of the pedagogical mode would help set the norm for the mature genre in later years.

In 1972, ten members of the machine intelligence research community travelled to Lake Como, Italy, for a conference on the ‘social implications of machine intelligence research’. This paper explores their varied and contradictory approaches to this topic. Researchers, including John McCarthy, Donald Michie and Richard Gregory, raised ‘ethical’ questions surrounding their research and actively predicted risks of machine intelligence. At the same time, they delayed any action to mitigate these risks to an uncertain future where technical capabilities were greater. I argue that conference participants’ claims that 1972 was ‘too early’ to speculate on societal impacts of their research were disingenuous, motivated both by threats to funding and by researchers’ own politically informed speculation on the future.

This essay takes the Hunterian Museum's collections, and particularly the large collection of anatomical preparations, as a case study to isolate the role of collections in disciplinary consolidation and change. I examine a large, unstudied paper archive of catalogues and inventories that strive to organize and account for objects, but more often reveal the collection's gradual transformation through continual losses and gains. This evidence indicates that while collections provide the material basis for object-based disciplines, the end of a collection does not necessarily support established or emergent disciplinary norms. As I show, it is in fact disorder in both the documentary archive and physical collections – and especially instabilities introduced by external circumstances that individuals can exploit but cannot control – that allows a collection to be mobilized, surreptitiously, for disciplinary ends.

The origin of human language has been a perennial – and perennially controversial – topic in linguistics since the nineteenth century. Much of this work has engaged themes Charles Darwin set out in The Descent of Man, though few authors acknowledge the text directly. How might we interpret such neglect? This essay contends that Darwin's reflections on language challenged foundational commitments in linguistics about the barrier between the history and prehistory of human communication. These commitments are thrown into relief through a detailed study of the dissenting symbolic and gestural theory of language origin put forth by Mary LeCron Foster, who rejected doctrines of linguistic arbitrariness and transformational-generative grammar. Her work on the frontier between animal and human communication is presented through a description of her ‘phememic’ account of the language origins. The paper also emphasizes the rhythm of Foster's career, which provides a significant counterpoint to standard accounts of the development and institutionalization of American linguistics during the twentieth century.

This article focuses on transformations in the main metaphors in ancient to late medieval titles of Chinese medical books used to convey to potential readers their ‘learning-by-the-book’ contents. It finds that in contrast to the European preference for hand metaphors in the genre terms – enchiridions, manuals and handbooks – the Chinese medical archive preserves bodily metaphors within which the hand metaphor appears only rarely in the early medieval period and is then superseded by metaphors that rely on the fingers and palms more than the hands per se. This longue durée survey from roughly the fourth to the fourteenth centuries of the wide-ranging metaphors for ‘handy medical books’ places their historical emergence and transformation within the history of Chinese medical manuscripts and printed texts. Metaphors in medical titles conveyed to potential readers at the time significant textual innovations in how medical knowledge would be presented to them. For later historians, they provide evidence of profound changes in managing an increasingly complex and expanding archive of Chinese medical manuscripts and printed texts. Innovations in textual reorganization intended to facilitate ‘learning by the book’ were often creatively captured in an illuminating range of genre distinctions, descriptors and metaphors.

Most studies of the American reception of Darwin have focused on the Origin. The Descent of Man, however, was even more widely read and discussed, especially by those outside the emerging scientific establishment. This essay maps the varied, popular and radical responses to the Descent and suggests that these unauthorized readers helped shape the formation of American scientific institutions (by encouraging scientists to close ranks), as well as ordinary Americans’ perceptions of gender and sex. I argue that the radical – freethinkers, socialists and feminists – embrace of sexual selection theory provides one explanation for naturalists’ scepticism of the theory.