Those who criticize the theory of thought-styles do admit their existence, but would rather see them as an obstacle to an “objective” perception, a kind of malum necessarium to be eliminated. Through an analysis of the example of serology it is, however, possible to demonstrate that the specific sociological structure of the community of serologists and the history of this discipline are intrinsically connected with a particular serological thought-style, and that the very content of scientific knowledge in this discipline stems from its thought-style. It is impossible even to imagine a styleless scientific knowledge.

Philosophy, a discipline without equals, seeks to account for reality, if possible in its entirety. It can be practiced only through the analysis of manifestations as diverse as art, religion, anthropology, politics, etc.

During the later European Renaissance, some scholars began to write about the history of scientific disciplines. Some of the issues and problems they faced in constructing their narratives have had long-term effects on the history of science. One of these issues was how to relate scholars from the Islamic traditions of scientific scholarship to those of antiquity and of postclassical Europe. Recent historians of science have rejected a once-common Western opinion that the contribution of these Islamic scientists had lain mainly in their preservation of ancient texts that were then handed over to Western scholars, who mastered them and then moved beyond them as part of the scientific revolution. This article examines the first effort to write a history of mathematics, the Lives of the Mathematicians by Bernardino Baldi (1553–1617), to determine how he treated this issue in his work. Baldi's efforts are especially important here because he was also an early European scholar of Arabic.

An examination of the work shows that Baldi did not share the negative views held by later Europeans about these non-European scientists. However, despite his knowledge of Arabic he had no active contacts with ongoing mathematical scholarship in Arabic. As a consequence, his narrative does follow the chronology of those later Europeans who would limit consideration of these mathematicians to approximately the ninth to the fourteenth centuries. In Baldi's writings, then, we can see the later narrative shape used by Western historians of science until recent years, but not the subsidiary role accorded to non-European scholars.

Argument

The purpose of this volume is to investigate a number of selected examples of contact zones between the sciences and literature. We will be dealing with prominent cases of how science and literature encounter and interact with each other and profit by this recourse to their corresponding other, yielding aspects of self-reflection and self-representation. The volume will not attempt to address the question whether the so-called “two cultures” can be brought closer together or superseded by a third (Lepenies 1988, passim). We will be dealing neither with science and literature in an autobiographical or “life-world” sense, nor with popular scientific texts with quasi-literary claims, such as Stephen Hawking's theory of time, nor, in the parallel universe of popular fiction, with science fiction.

During the second quarter of the nineteenth century, an argument raged about the identity of a small freshwater fish: was the parr a distinct species, or merely the young of the salmon? This “Parr Controversy” concerned both fishermen and ichthyologists. A central protagonist in the controversy was a man of ambiguous social and scientific status: a gamekeeper from Scotland named John Shaw. This paper examines Shaw’s heterogeneous practices and the reception of his claims by naturalists as he struggled to find a footing on the “gradient of attributed competence” (Rudwick 1985). The case demonstrates the context-specific nature of expert-lay boundaries and identities and explores a range of material and linguistic resources available for negotiating them. Arguing for a view of Shaw’s trajectory as simultaneously one of being a “practical man” and of becoming a naturalist, the paper explores both the permeability of social hierarchies in knowledge production and their effective role in the regulation of competency.

In this paper I study the engagement of German ornithologists with the Collared Dove, a bird species of Asian origin that spread massively throughout Central Europe in the 1940s and 1950s. Never before had the spread of a single species attracted so much attention from European ornithologists. Ornithologists were not only fascinated by the exotic origin of the bird, but even more so by the unprecedented rapidity of its expansion. As it is argued in the paper, the advent of the bird created an outstanding opportunity for ornithologists to study the process of biogeographic range expansion. The paper traces how knowledge on the dove's expansion took shape in the social, discursive, and material practices of a large-scale observation campaign of German ornithologists (both amateurs and academics). The paper also argues that ornithologists’ observation practices have contributed to the construction of a benevolent cultural image of the Collared Dove. This sets the case of the Collared Dove apart from many recent debates in which newly arriving species have been framed as a threat to biodiversity. The paper contributes both to a historical understanding of scientific fieldwork as well as of the role of scientific knowledge in the shaping of cultural meanings of animals.

An unusual compass, on which east and west are reversed, provides insight into the dynamics guiding our understanding of artifacts. By examining how such compasses were used in Tokugawa Japan (1600–1868), the benefits they brought, and how users knew how to read them, this article uncovers the cognitive factors that shape our interaction with technology. Building on the methodological approach of the distributed cognition theory, the article claims that reverse compasses allowed the user to conserve cognitive effort, which was particularly advantageous to Tokugawa-period mariners. Moreover, the article shows that even non-professional Tokugawa Japanese had a relatively easy time reading reverse compasses due to similarity between the compasses’ orientation and Tokugawa timekeeping practices. Building on the bodily and cognitive habits they had developed through the practices of keeping time, users could identify and interpret cultural cues embedded in the structure of reverse compasses.

Duhem's great contribution to the study of the history of medieval science is indisputable. His book remains an excellent source of information concerning the ideas of the epoch's thinkers about the foundations of the universe. Ariew's painstaking translation of a considerable portion of Duhem's ten-volume work deserves the deep gratitude of all those interested in medieval science. Le Systéme du monde regains its actuality. Nevertheless, to write now about a book produced by this great scholar at the beginning of the century is not an easy undertaking, and involves some risk. Too many changes have taken place in the principles of studying the history of science during the seventy-odd years since the book was written, and some notions that seemed then to be perfectly clear are not so simple and indisputable now. With profound respect for this feat of scholarship, I should like to make some observations in connection with the recent English publication of Duhem's book.

Animals are “in” – since prehistoric times when humans (or their ancient ancestors) were hunting animals, and when they fabricated the Paleolithic dog as well as the Paleolithic cat. In less general terms, animals are “in” since they received names and were listed, observed, mummified, turned into totems, and, later on, dissected, tortured under laboratory conditions, trained as experimental subjects or “purified” as model organisms. And they are massively “in” again, but now from overtly legal and moral points of view, at least since the last two decades of the twentieth century. This is to say that modern members of the species Homo sapiens have always been connected to animals of the most various kinds – from the human flea (Pulex irritans) and the cat flea (Ctenocephalides felis) to marine mammals, such as dolphins and whales, from horses to parrots, from scallops to worms, and so on.

Preliminary remark: The following conversation began as a series of written email exchanges. Due to technical reasons, this exchange had to be interrupted at some point. Rather than rewriting the text that had obtained from scratch, I continued the conversation, turning the real “other” of the dialogue into an imagined one. Heartfelt thanks to Oren Harman, the guest editor of this topical issue, for continuing support and for having taken the risk of designing this unusual topical issue of Science in Context with me. AM.

Data collections are a hallmark of nineteenth-century administrative knowledge making, and they were by no means confined to Europe. All colonial empires transferred and translated these techniques of serialised and quantified information gathering to their dominions overseas. The colonial situation affected the encounters underlying vital statistics, enquête methods and land surveying. In this paper, two of those data collections will be investigated—a survey on land and a survey on indigenous law, both conducted around 1910 on the Micronesian island of Pohnpei, which had fallen under German colonial influence a decade earlier. Strikingly, there are no enumerators or envoys of the state visiting the doorsteps of Pohnpei. To facilitate the data collection on homesteads, the whole population of the island was called upon to measure their respective plots of land themselves, without resorting to certified land surveyors. The preserved cadastral lists and spreadsheets testify to a rather peculiar contact between the colonizing administration and the colonized peoples. I argue that the production of data made encounters necessary, which are best observed though a methodological focus on data practices. I argue, furthermore, that the Pohnpeians were prompted during the surveys to define their homestead in new terms. This did not only entail new two-dimensional plots but also a new regime of private property. The change in the legal concept can be seen as a continuation of colonial violence by other means, given that it happened in the aftermath of the defeated Pohnpei Rebellion. The argument of the paper is, therefore, that data collection can have formative effects on society, and that measurement and quantified information are often, as Witold Kula argued, a scene of conflict. At its core, the installation of these metric regimes signified a change in patterns of justification, resource management and the unwritten constitution of the Pacific island.

The aim of this article is to make a case for the pertinence of a biographical approach to the history of scientific objects. I first lay out the rationale of that approach by revisiting and extending my earlier work on the topic. I consider the characteristics of scientific objects that motivate the biographical metaphor, and I indicate its virtues and limitations by bringing out the positive and negative analogies between biographies of scientific objects and ordinary biographies. I then point out various ways in which scientific objects may pass away and argue that their demise should be conceptualized as a process. Finally, I sketch the history of the concept of “ether” in nineteenth and early twentieth century physics and suggest that it lends itself particularly well to a biographical treatment. To that effect, I discuss the identity, heuristic character, and recalcitrance of the ether and examine the reasons that may have led to its passing.

The paper argues that the distinction between modernism and postmodernism can be applied metaphorically to clarify the changing image of music during the late Middle Ages. The paper discusses the scientific and rational strategies that thirteenth century musical theorists applied to revise earlier musical conceptualization. It highlights the thirteenth-century innovative affiliation of music with Aristotelian physics and argues that in a very subtle and seemingly contradictory way music theorists expressed the nascent awareness, if not tacit acknowledgment, of the mundane nature of music. It argues further that in the fourteenth century the issue of representing musical-rhythmical variability by means of a suitable language shifted to the forefront of musical theory and practice. The unprecedented emphasis on musical signs and their semantic behavior as well as the demand to demystify the discourse about rhythmical concepts — so as to question the necessity of metacategories — all point to an affinity between fourteenth century musical thought and postmodern sensibilities.

Raspail’s domestic medicine method, popularized in 1840s France, has similarities with the practices of nineteenth century non-academic healers. His mass marketing of camphor as a universal treatment echoes the practices of “charlatans” and their circles. But Raspail is also very original in this history of popular care. As a scientist, a popularizer of encyclopedic knowledge and a political activist, he managed to blur traditional distinctions between science and politics and between popular and learned medicine. Raspail was a constant thorn in the side of academic institutions and professional organizations, which were struggling to gain legitimacy. His work took a political turn when he combined, within a single project, his approach to treatment and his call for democratizing medical care. Raspail’s method challenged institutional norms by acknowledging the importance of the patient’s contribution to the healing process, and recognizing the necessity of thwarting the occasionally deleterious effects of monopolistic medicalization.

The idea of evolution doubtlessly marks a revolution in our way of thinking. It is the most recent achievement of philosophy and forms the basis of the modern world picture. Current discussions concerning the status of science now convey the impression that any scientific discipline that wants to satisfy modern requirements must also become a theory of evolution. These discussions ignore the reasons which once induced Kant to desist from reformulating classical mechanics as a theory of evolution and instead to found his critical philosophy, according to which the epistemological starting points of natural science and philosophy are different in principle. In other words, there is no examination of whether the reasons given by Kant are of a principle nature so that they are still valid today, but rather, ignoring Kant's arguments, it is taken for granted that a different physical theory than classical mechanics could achieve this.

Because nonlinear thermodynamics in particular is often presented as a candidate that justifies hopes of an evolutionary physics, the position of this branch within the structure of physics will be investigated here. It will be seen that a historical component is introduced into physics via initial, boundary, and other supplementary conditions, but that this does not mean that historicity has been grasped in laws, which is of course the point of a scientific theory of development.

It is demonstrated that the conclusion drawn for physics by some authors from nonlinear thermodynamics, according to which physics today becomes an evolutionary physics incorporating the cognitive subject, is wrong. The progress made by modern thermodynamics is, without doubt, significant. The widespread philosophical interpretation of thermodynamics rests, however, on an antiquated ontologization of physical concepts and thus on the usual procedure of mechanicism.

If one tries to introduce the conception of evolution into natural science by leveling the difference between philosophy and natural science in a mechanistic manner, then the dialectical evolutionary conception which represents a new epoch of human thinking degenerates to an evolutionism, where lawfulness is replaced by accidentalness.

This paper construes various positions in the philosophy of science and the philosophy of law as responses to the problem of underdetermination in science and in law. We begin by drawing a close analogy between the successive approaches to this problem in the two fields. In particular, we stress the analogy between conventionalism as a philosophy of science and legal realism as a philosophy of law, and between Putnam's and Dworkin's critiques of these positions. We then challenge the Putnam-Dworkin strategy, arguing that their attempts to combat underdetermination are unsuccessful. We are thus led to scepticism regarding the outlook underlying the celebrated maxim, “ruled by law, not by men”.

This article considers three major problems with the concept of genes for human personality traits: (1) uncertainty about what human personality is; (2) what we mean when we say there is a gene “for” a mental attribute; and (3) the complexity of interactions between genes and environment, and among the genes themselves. It then draws on examples from empirical human genetic studies by the author and his colleagues in order to suggest that the concept of genes for human personality traits nevertheless does have some validity, and also that we may be on the brink of discovering genes with major effects on human personality. This possibility, in particular its ethical aspects, has aroused some public concern. It is suggested that confidential information about an individual's genes does not differ in principle from other confidential information about him or her, and that the ability (currently theoretical) to affect genes and their expression, temporarily or permanently, does not differ ethically from our current ability to affect other aspects of an individual's physical and psychological functioning. Genes for potential offspring, contained in ova and sperm cells, constitute a special case.