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| HSci 1814 || Course Philosophy History of science from 1700 to the present: that's quite a teaching challenge. One might endeavor to be comprehensive. But how, in only one semester? Any such course must be selective somehow. Several principles have shaped my choice of form and content (each elaborated below):
History occurs at several scales, from experiments and biographies to thematic lineages (Holton, 1981) and the long duree. I hope to illuminate science through case studies that focus on particular solutions to particular problems at particular times and places (Rudwick, 1985). This allows one to illustrate the multiple dimensions that interact in any episode: such features as motivation, funding, methods, instruments, cultural context, personality, lineages of ideas, institutional frameworks, ethics, etc. Each episode is a benchmark. From each, I pursue many threads, towards weaving the rich tapestry that is history. Each case unfolds in three parts: (I) the context of the problem, frequently highlighting the cultural context fueling science; (ii) solving the problem itself -- frequently explored through an original paper; and (iii) the downstream consequences or broader context of the findings. For example, the episode on pressure puzzles focuses on: (I) practical problems of pumps in mines and why Galileo and Torricelli studied fluid dynamics, (ii) Boyle's work on the air pump and the role of politics in interpreting observations, and (iii) communication among scientists (from correspondence via Mersenne to the Royal Society), as well as the philosophy of a vacuum in nature. By devoting considerable time to each episode, one can offer a fuller portrait of science in the past, from which students can more readily generalize, in my view. Multiple episodes allow one to highlight several different features of science, sometimes revisiting them in different contexts. This depth of analysis, though confined to particular cases, I regard as essential to developing an appreciation of historical sensibilities (see below). Selection of Episodes. The cases in this course, while reflecting in part my own background and tastes, serve two important ends:
Linking Episodes. A collage of cases studies would by itself be incomplete. The course concludes, therefore, with an effort to assemble a grand narrative from the familiar benchmarks. Students hopefully recognize the limits of such a story, based on experience with the texture of individual cases. We also discuss the motivations behind and limitations of such (often mythic) narratives--a reflexive effort to help students see that history is "constructed". Nevertheless, students should gain some kind of historical framework to accompany the benchmarks and that can serve as a scaffolding for interpreting further history. Cross-Cultural Perspective While "modern" science is undeniably Western in origin and flavor, casting science with a lineage from Babylonia to the Principia or Los Alamos, often with an emphasis on astronomy and physics, I consider grossly misleading. The overall pattern implicitly conveys a theme of inevitable progress, with quantification and experiment triumphing, even when the teacher does not intend it and includes explicit caveats along the way. My strategy, therefore, is to first highlight the pursuit of understanding nature and the world in many early cultures. Science has roots in many cultural traditions at least, even if historians have yet to discern fully their relation to "modern" (Western) science. Teaching the history of non-Western science poses many challenges as well as potential benefits (Allchin and DeKosky, 1999). For example, current native practices must sometimes serve as surrogates for undocumented historical knowledge. Also, distinguishing between scientific knowledge and tech-knowledgy becomes more difficult. This course embraces these ambiguities as a way to enrich, rather than diminish, our understanding. In selecting episodes, I have tried to ensure nominal representation from every continent. I have also endeavored to focus on familiar examples--such as the compass and "Damascus" steel--to avoid an image of strained credibility. After surveying examples of mapmaking among Pacific navigators and Australian aborigines, I delve into Native American astronomy. This partly respects a major constituency here at the University of Minnesota, and also uses an example that is relatively local (recognizably our history). Following this are: the origin of the compass in China, metallurgy in India, and agriculture and food preservation in Africa. By the time we reach Greece and Rome, I hope students are better prepared to interpret science there in a cultural context, without a "Western civ" bias. [In the future, I hope to profile science in Southeast Asia, to reflect the substantial Hmong population here.] The focus on a different science and different culture each week allows making further connections. Thus, I can mention how each scientific discovery is often echoed by parallel achievements in other cultures. In addition, in introducing each culture, I can portray the breadth of its achievements, while still focusing on primarily one case. The cross-cultural focus for early science is complemented with a more standard treatment of the Scientific Revolution. Even here, though, I refrain from several conventions that I believe tend to reinforce historically unjustifiable stereotypes of Western science. Thus, while I acknowledge the pivotal roles of Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler and Newton, I do not present them as the benchmarks of a clearly definable Scientific Revolution. Rather, I adopt cases that I think embody the complexities of the era: Gilbert's work on magnets, coupling experimentalism with views on natural magick; Harvey's insights on circulation, intimately linked with his unrepentant Aristoteleanism; and the controversy over barometers and Boyle's air pump. I conclude with Newton, but turn to his Optics as an appropriate case, based on its role as a model in 18th-century science, and its links to Renaissance art, scientific institutions and the problems of method. Not all science proceeds smoothly and without error. I include the trial of Galileo, in part to explore the common example of presumed conflict between science and religion. The intent, once again, is to engage pervasive cultural misconceptions through a vivid, complex case study. I address gender and economic ideology through Merchant's critique. As noted above, the course concludes with a two-week retrospective, designed to introduce and resolve the tensions between Western myths and sophisticated historical interpretations. Skills in Historical Interpretation One essential element of any introductory course (perhaps more prominently voiced in the past) is "to gain an appreciation of" the subject. That is, what does it mean to see science through the eyes of an historian? How does one adopt and exercise historical perspective? Here, I refer primarily to reorienting one's mind set to another time and place and interpreting things in context. This is a skill, not content. One must learn by example and practice, not lecture. Accordingly, I open with guided exercises in interpretation, using maps as a visual metaphor for representation. I use David Turnbull's provocative Maps are Territories, Science is an Atlas (Univ. of Chicago Press, 1992) to highlight how maps, like all representations, are selective, conventionalized and embedded in a culture's purposes and practices. Students then complete a project interpreting a historical map on their own. This becomes our model for interpreting science. The focus on historical interpretation also motivates my use of original material. Students read one historical paper for every case. We discuss them in class, learning how to pose questions and notice telltale signals. Interpretive activities take the foreground. Expository lecture is thus limited to motivating each case and unfolding its implications. Even then, lecture is punctuated with brief small-group discussions and occasions for reflecting and writing. In addition, we visit the rare book collection to gain a deeper appreciation of historical publications, both intellectually and aesthetically. I also endeavor to recreate historical experiences for students, whether through their own astronomical observations, a demonstration of Newton's rings, or contemporary testimonies from letters and diaries. Labs, ideally, should be a part of a history of science class (e.g., Settle, 1961). I have the good fortune to teach in a science classroom, with access to many relevant materials. Advanced students read biographies (see HSci 3814 Reading List). The recommended books (such as Sobel's Galileo's Daughter, Ginzburg's The Cheese and the Worms, and Hamburger's Diary of William Harvey) notably highlight non-scientific elements and integrate science and culture. They are not exclusively intellectual biographies. Yet they are historically responsible, unlike Brecht's dubious Galileo or Koestler's Sleepwalkers. Another major project is a historical simulation -- the retrial of Galileo (Gregory, 1995). Again, this is to engage students in a situated perspective. Here, their skills are "tested" and further developed by having them adopt a historical voice and articulate an argument in the context of 1633. Finally, students are expected to keep a journal and to document their intellectual engagement with the material. There are several in-class writing exercises. These should elicit Whiggish tendencies, perhaps, and allow students to recognize them and reconsider them in the light of deeper knowledge. Thus, the evaluation standards for the course reflect one of its fundamental aims: to develop skills in historical interpretation.
Douglas Allchin Literature Cited
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