There is a famous character in one of Oscar Wilde's plays who knew the price of everything and the value of nothing. An economist wonders uneasily if the reference is not to him. The word “value” occurs in economic writings with high frequency, the frequency of meanings being almost as great as the frequency of occurrence. It has been the occasions of long and bitter disputes, some on the semantic level, some more substantive. What I want to accomplish in this paper is a relatively humble task—to examine some of the concepts and related systems in economics which seem to be relevant to the general problem of value, and to see how far and in what directions they might be safely generalized. I do not claim that economics, even when generalized to the full, gives us a complete theory of value. Many of the most important and most difficult questions in value theory cannot be answered within the framework which I shall set up. But economics can, I hope, provide something of a foundation on which to build, or at least a launching platform from which to send off our philosophical rockets.

Whether or not history is, or could be, or ought to be a science, depends in part upon how the words “science” and “history” are to be used. But if one of the criteria of a science is an ability to provide explanations of large numbers of events by means of a small number of general laws, it then becomes in part a question of whether or not history does, or can, provide explanations of this sort for the phenomena which concern it. It is common knowledge that history, at the present time, displays no obvious instance of such an explanation; and I shall try to argue that, though the phenomena with which history deals could conceivably be explained in a “scientific” manner, it is not the office of history to provide such explanations, nor does its lack of explanations in any way diminish either the effectiveness or importance of history. So if my conclusions here suggest that history is not a science, and could not be one, they also suggest that it ought not to be one, but that it is a special and irreducible activity of the human spirit, with a function and justification of its own.

Theoretical physics is a deductive discipline which presupposes the validity and applicability of certain other disciplines. Among these are logic, algebra, analysis, and geometry. Before relativity, Euclidean geometry was the only one thought to be important for physical space. These disciplines correlate well with experience, and, in the course of time, a priori validity came to be ascribed to them. To Kant, for example, the universe could not possibly be based on any geometry other than Euclid's. The discovery of non-Euclidean geometries by Bolyai and Lobatchevsky, its systematic extension by Riemann, and the critical scrutiny of foundations by Mach and Poincaré shook the “self-evident truth” of Euclidean geometry as applied to the world of physics. The death knell of the a priori truth of any geometry was supplied by Einstein. He showed that a wider body of experience was coordinated by a Riemannian geometry than by Euclidean. He traced the success of Euclidian geometry back to the existence of so-called rigid bodies, in terms of which operations can be associated with numbers which correlate well with numbers associated in a purely mathematical way with mathematical constructs put in correspondence with these bodies. For the physicist, then, the geometry of the real world is now a physical theory whose “truth” like that of all physical theory, is measured by its degree of success in coordinating experience.

In the course of his researches in electromagnetism and the kinetic theory of gases, James Clerk Maxwell gave some thought to the nature of science itself. His observations in this field are of interest today not only because they are his, but because they are still instructive. Maxwell's views are to be found in the many asides with which he enlivened his scientific papers and treatises and in the various articles and reviews which he prepared for more popular consumption. The topics discussed bear on his own contributions to physics; they include the logic of dynamical explanation, the method of physical analogy, and the perennial question of action at a distance versus contiguity. In the present essay, I wish to discuss Maxwell's views on dynamical explanation.

In Executive Order No. 10521, March 17, 1954, President Eisenhower stated: “…only a small fraction of the Federal Funds is being used to stimulate and support the vital basic research which makes possible our practical scientific progress. I believe strongly that this Nation must extend its support of research in basic science.”

Carnap's system of inductive logic (1) has very often been criticized on the ground that “degree of confirmation” is defined only for languages which are extremely over-simplified. Allegedly, it would be very difficult—and perhaps impossible—to define it adequately for languages formalized within the higher predicate calculi, or languages equivalent to these in richness, and it is such languages that would be needed were we ever to formalize the language of empirical science as a whole. Thus, this criticism bears not only on Carnap's work, but on all attempts to construct an exact analysis of induction from this particular standpoint; that is, from the standpoint of “logical measure functions.”

I propose to treat this broad topic in terms of three main questions:

1. 1. The shift in emphasis in anthropological research from culture-history-culture philosophy to “social engineering”,

2. 2. The question of whether these two types of emphasis are related or not, and if so in what manner, and

3. 3. The implications of anthropology for other fields of knowledge.