The Many Faces of Science: An Introduction to Scientists, Values, and Society

The Many Faces of Science

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TH

ANY

An Introduction to Scientists, Values,and Society SECOND EDITION

Leslie Stevenson University of St. Andrews, Fife, Scotland

Henry Byerly Univelsity ofArizona, mcsan,Arizona

A Member of the Pcrseus Books Group

To Sonia and Lydia,

Sonya and Tanya

hlf rights rescxved, hinted in the United States of America, No part of ttlils publication may

be reproduced s r transmitted in any form s r by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, csr any infr3rmatit)n storage and retrievd system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Copyri@t G 1 22000 bywestview Ress, A Member of the Pcrseus Ilooks Group Pulslishect in 2000 in the Unikect Stares of America by Westview Press, 5500 Cenlrat Avenue, Boulder, Colorado 80301-2877, and in the United Kingdom by Westview Press, X2 E [id's Copse Road, Ct~mnorFTIII, Oxford 0x2 9JJ Find us on the Wc~rldWide Web at

Iikrary of Czongress Catatoging-in-13ub1icationf3ata Stevensan, 1,eslie Forster, The many faces of science: an inrruduction to scientists, values, and society / I,eslie Stevenson, Flenry Byefly.----2nded, p, cm, Includes bibliogaplrical references and index. ISBN 0-8133-6551-1 X. Science-Mislary 2, Science----PhilosophyYHisvory, 3, Science-Sacid aspectsIIistorxy, I, 13ycrly t3;ensy. ll.rl"itte,

'Tbc paper used in tl~iispublication meets ttlc requirements of the American National Standard for Perrnmence of Paper for Printed I,ibrary Materials 239.48-1984.

Contents

Preface Pref~ceto the Second Edition Ij"l t r ~ d u c t i ~ n 1

Hlovv Scienee as We mow It Har; Developed

1.1 Wait Is Science? 1.2 The Rise of Modern Science 1.3 The ProEessionaJization.sE Science 1.4 The Industrialization sf Science

2.1 The Efaconian Vision: Science as Bountiful 2.2 Frainkensteinian Nightmares: Science as Demonic 2.3 Science as Undercutting Basic I-tuman Values 2.4 Utopias and Anti- Urnpias: Science and Human. Affairs 2.5 The Two Culttxres: Science as Humanizing? 2.6 The Thesis sf the Value-Neutrality sf Science 3

MittMotivates SeientistsQ

3.1 Who Counts as a Scientist? 3.2 The Variety of Motives Dri~r-rg Scientists 4

f nteflectud Cuniasiv: Mathernaticd Patterns in. Nature

5

InteUlectud Curiosiw:bperirnent 5.1 Theoretical Insight and Experimental Skill 5.2 Enjoyable Tinkering

6

ScienitificReputittion,Scientific Infiuence,

and Public Fme

6.1 Scientific Rep~xtation 6.2 Professional Power and InRuence 6.3 Public Fame

7

The UtiXify-of Science 7.1 The Tradition, sf Medical Science 7.2 Ractieal Technolofiryand Science

8

Sejence m d Money 8.1 The Funding of Scientific Research 8.2 Rofiting from Scierlce

9

Seiendsts and the Tatdigaim State 9.1 Scientists in Nazi Germany 9.2 Scientists and Communism in the USSR 9.3 Scientists ir-rContemporary Totalitarian Regimes

10,J Scientists and Nuclear Weapons 102 Gertetic Engineering and the Labbying Scientist 3.03 Ecolom and Crusading Scientists Xt

Sejence Applied to Human Beings 11.I. Emergence of the Behavioral Sciences 115.2 Freud: VVi>uld-BeScientist af the Emations 11.3 Would-Be Technologist of Ret'lavior

12

Science amd.Vdues 12.1. The Fruits of Science-Optimism and Vessimism 12.2 Does Science Undercut Human Values? 12.3 Is ScienceValue-Neutral? 12.4 Numerate and Ecolate Thinking 12.5 Is Scierlce Objective? 12.6 Values Guiding Science

Preface

The initial idea for a book like this arose from Leslie Stevenson designing and teaching a small course-unit entitled "Uses and Misuses of Science" for students in the Facully of Scierlce in the Unimrsity of St. Andrews in Scotland. A term's research leave in 1990 (thanks t s the University of St. Andrews) enabled him to write a first draft of this book, This time was spent in Macquarrie IfrziversiZ-yin Sydn.ey,Australia, and thanks are due far hospitality and intellectual feedback there. However, with only part of his teaching and research time available for this project, L. S, found it difficutr to bring it to completion single-handedly Meanwhile, Henry Byerly had for same years been teaching a course emitted "Science, Technology, and Values," as well as other courses in the h i w r y and philosophy of science, at the Universiw of Arizona at Tucsan, Spencer Carr afWesMew Press put us in touch with each othel; and we quti&y found sllEciertt cornmonality of approach and complementarity of expeaise for a jointly authored project to be auractive. W met for an intensive and stimulating two weekskollaborative work in St. Andrews in 1993 and again in the somewhat warmer surmundings of 7ilcson in 1994 (aided by research and travel grams from the School of Philosophical and Anthropological Studies at St. Andrews)* Our collaboration has extended over every section of the book, L, S, drafted about tw-thirds of the case studies and philosophical discussion; H. B. added more case studies and historical material. Btxt every sentence has been gone over by both of rxs (and has been put through several computer systems in the prucess!). We have tllus achieved together something that neither of us would have done alone. Science shows many faces-it is the work of a great variety of heroic irldividuats and evslvirlg scientific communities. Science and its works evoke hopes and fears, boundless admiration and deep loathing, In Science in a. Free Society [1978), Paul Feyerabend asked sardonically, " m a t ' s so great about science?" (73)His chatlerlge vvas to vindicate the supposed special authority of scientific method, an authority that makes its pronouncements more worthy of rational belief than those of other '"raditions" such as religions, folMore, and cuirtlrd belie& of aw kirrd. We claimed that no good answer can be bund. W are less pessimistic abaut

that (see sections 1.1and 3.1 of this book), but we do not attempt ta settle all the philosophical issues raised by Fyerabendpsquestion. W cancentrate instead on the practical side: whether, all things considered, science (both pure arrd as ayplied to technology) has been, and wilt continue to be,a Good Thing Eor humankind. To that question we affer a fairly. positive answer, with qualifications. To echo the request that Oliver Cromwell made of the artist commissioned to paint his partrait, we try to depict science, its practitioners, and its applications as they are, warts and all, But despite the warts, we suggest that there is something ""great" about the whole enterprise of science, which has transformed so many of our beliefs and so mu& of our lives since the seventeent h century. Although we cannot settle all the philosophical issues that have been raised about science, we do pose the qtxestions and p r o ~ d esame gerspective by examining case histories in vvhich the questions arise. We have adapted the policy sf making the important issues about science, t e c h n a l o ~and , human values concrete and vivid by presenting a variety of pafiicular scientists irr their hismricd, sociaf, f nancial, and psliticaX contexts. Support br this concentration an case studies rather than general thearizhg c m be k u n d from no less a theoretician than the great eighteenth-cc;nz:ur$"philopher Immanuel Karrt. In the "'MethodolR ~ Q S(1956) Q ~ he wrote: agy" "section of his Critique ~fPt-a~tic@E Those who otheMse find everything which is subtle and tninute in theoretical questions dry and vexing [Kantwas talking of theory in tnaral philosaphylf soon take part when it is a question of the moral import of a goad or bad act that is recounted. . . . I do not know why the educators of youth have not long since made use af this propensity af reason to enter with pleastrre upon the most strbrle e x a ~ n a t i o nof practical questions put to them, and why, after laying the foundation in a purely moral catechism, they have not searched throu* biographies af ancient and modern ti~nes with the purpose of having examples at hand af the duties they fay down, so that, by colrtparing similar reactions under various curculrtstmnces, they could begin to exercise the maral judgetnent af their pupils in marking the greater ar less mar& significance of the actions. (5.53-254) We have both, for better or for worse, been "educators of youth'" for

much of OUT time. As the reader will see, we have indeed been ""searching througfl biographies of ancimt and rnoderrl times" for vivid exmpies of the ditemmas, moral and otherwise, that .face scientists, Though we have hardly attempted to "lay the foundation in a purely moral catechism"' (perhaps we thereby risk b n f s disapproval!), we do have an educative and moral purpose in mind-to stimulate students and other

Preface / ix

readers &I consider criticalb the value questions that arise in the practice and application of science. We are philosophers, not historians, and certainly not scientists, But the beginning student can, we hope, learn from this book a certain amount of basic science, history, and politics and make some acquaintance with philos~phicalissues as they relate ta science. Our aim has been to cover as broadly as possible an enorrnolxs amount of scientific and historical material at an introductory level; thus, we were faced with difficult choices about what to include and exclude,We have had far the most part to rely on secondary sottrces, such as nontechnical summaries of scientific theories and their applications, histories of science, and biographies of individual scientists.. Some material from Leslie Srevensonb paper ""ll Scientific Research Value-Neutral?" h innqul'y 32 (1989) has been recycled into Chapter 10. Mre are gratefill to two reviewers of an earlier version of the manuscript submitted to Wesmew Press and especially to Spencer Carr, who (urzusually for an editor these days) found time to read thrmtgh the whole manuscript himself These three gave us very exensive and helpful comments, af which we have tried to make good use, Thanks are also dtxe to Julian Crewe in St. h d r e w s and Rob Curnmins and h n Hickman in Trxcson for help wilh translating one word-processing systeln to another,

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Preface to the Second Edition In response to requests from reviewrs, substantial material has been added, Tar which the second author is primarily responsible. All the case studies of the first edition have been retained. Some sections have been updated, especially in Chapter 10, "'Scientists and Public Policy," The case of David Baltimore required extensive revision irr the light of subsequent inquiry into the affair. W have added a chapter on psychalogy, with case studies of Freud and Skinner. In that chapter, we pose same of the difficult questions of the specid nature of the social sciences, which to some appear more like philosophy or art than real science, The previous Chapter 4, ""Intellectual Curiosity and Experiment,'%has been split irrto two chapters, with the addition of cases. We have emphasized more the closer ties today between science and technology and how contemporary science with its large research groups funded by government and large corporations differs from classic science. The "great man" image fits classic science fairly welt, but recent science is more complex in stmcture and funcrioning, It is more difficttlt taday to single out a few leaders in science or to assess the diverse motivations irr scientific research in its intricate relationships to society. Mr;e added a section s n scientific reseal-ch to coLlnter Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS) and extended the discussion of the Human Genome Prajed. The East chapter, ""Sience and TJalues," "hais been rewritten to refiecl the interaction of politic&, economic, and ethical concerns in scientific reseazh. With the accderating growth and dissemination of information in the warid today, we believe it is increasingly impsf-tant to .view in broad perspective what drives science, We cannot, of course, aspire to completeness on so vast and complex a subject as the development and practice of science. We have focused s n the diverse mativations of scientists in case stlxdies to illustrate the way science has developed, some of its threats and promises, and controversies over the place of scientific knowledge and practice in contemporary society,

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Introduction Almost everyone agrees that the development of scientific knowledge has made enormous progress-from understanding the birth of stars and the structure of atoms to explaining the evolution of life on earth and unraveling the biochemistry of the genetic code. But have science and technology impraved the human condition, apart from adding to our knowledge? Most people would still probably answer yes, though doubrs about whether the overall benefits outweigh the costs seem to have increased in recent years. Surely we now have more wealth and better health than we did 300 years ago-in the developed corlntries of the West, at least. Some of the applications of science read like a fanrastie success story. Consider the "miraetes" "of madern medicine-antibiotics, the eradication of smallpox, the steady decline of infant mortality and the lengthening of the averqe life span; consider dso the technulogies we now take far granted, !&amradio and television to CDs, from steam engines to jet planes and rockets that have gone ta rhe moon. But doubts about the much-vaunted benefits of science and technulogy have also grown over the years, especially in this century. W have been made all too ~ G d l awaE-e y of the enormous destructive power that scientific discoveries have put irrto milital-y hands-Erom dynamite and poison gas to missiles loaded with. hydrogen bombs sufficient to destroy humarr civitizaion rrlarly times over, perhaps even to extinguish mo& fife on earth, The more insidious threats horn the side effects of sciencebased industry cause widespread concern: pollution of the envirsnment, mdioactive by-products that will remain drzrrgerolxs for millennia, destruction of the ozone layer, and gtobd warming, Besides the dangers to life and health, worries abound about more subtle ethical problems lurEng in the p m e r of scientific knwtedge and technology to control people and in the new and difficult choices generic engineering gives us about human life and reproduction. As the twentieth century draws toward its close, some pessimistic voices can be heard wandering whether the scientific enterprise may be doirrg more harm than good, all things considered. The modern era has been called the age of scientific progress and also the age of aruriety The accelerating expansion of science and techrrolog has provided major sources far progress and hope as well as far worry

and dismay. What are the overall results of the mvolutions in science over the past several centuries? Science and technolow have brought anportunities and threats, benefits and casts, Can we expect continued progressMre there limits to what science can discover and control in nature? Who and what determine how science is usedWoes science merit the awed respect and admiration that it so often receives? Does it deserve the fear and altxiely that it sometimes prmkes? In asking these questions and trying to offer some provisional answers to them, we hope to appeal to that native curiosity, present to some degree in all af us, that has i n s p i ~ dscientists in the past: the curiosity to understand, to see connections, and to explain, First, we offer some historical perspectives on the development of science and its role in society [Chapters 1-31. Then we examine a variety of fascinating and instructive episodes in the histal-y of science [Chapters 4-1 1).We have selected from biographies of sciemists and recent scientific journalism vivid examples of the variety sf motives and influences involved in scientific research and of the problems and dilemmas raised by scientific discoveries and their applications, W conclude the book with a mare philosophical discussion af the relationship af science and values (Chapter 22). We hope to shed light on the nature and implications of the scientific enterprise and to pruvide some undersanding of what science has; been in the past, is at present, and might become in the hture*W thus hope to meet criticisms such as those Paul Davies has made of the way science is oAen taught: "'Personalities rarely enter. , . . Science is presented as a body af accepted fact, missing out an the anwish, the feuding, the doubt, the ehilaration, and the eccentricity" "(1993, 68). Our hope is that students [who sometimes find science boring) will respond to the exitement and the mystery, the competition and the cooperation, the adventure and the frustrations that are actualXy involved in the pursuit of science. Our aim throughout this boak is to stimulate a l our rcadefi-but especially those students af science who will be among the scientists, technologists, or administrators of the future-to think carefully and critically for &ernselves about the many momentous issues arising from the practice sf science. L* S. H' B.

How Science as We Know It Has Developed The term science is o&enused in a broad and ralrer v a p e sense. To bolster rhe crediloili~of claims for a product, advertisements speak of what "science" has shown or what "scientists" say These words, along with the adjective scl'entiflc, are now generally used as honorific terms that express intellectual authority and indicate some especially trustworthy way of justil-jiing beliefs. These days W are all expected to accept this, even if we know little s r nothing about the theory and practice of science, Occasionally, and perhaps increasirrgiy, voices are h e a d suggesrirlg that all is not well with ol-dlodox science, that it eifher ignores or is less than perfectly objective in regards to important and interesting phenomena such as ESP and atternatbe medicine and that it is subsemient to the interests of big business in studying, for sample, environmerltd pollution, And for a long time, some have held the plausible view that science caxlnot by its natflre deal with certaln vital human concerns [for example, personal relationships, moral values, and religious failh). But far the mast part, scientists, scientific theories, and scientific method retain a special authority in our culttlre, Mu& has been witlen about the epistemolo~of science, exarnirling and sometimes questioning the nature af its special intellectual authority (see certain radical philosophers and sociologists of science, such as Feyerabend 119781, Bloor [19761, and Wootgar [19881),Rather more often, philosophers sf science have defended its pri-rj.iXegedstatus af credibili~ (for examplel h p p e r t 19631, Hempel [ 11961633, and fileman-Smith t 198l]), even if they admit that afliculatir~gthe distinctive characteristics of scientific method in an exact but general phiXosophicd account is a difficult task, This book will not attempt to tread this well-trodden ground once more, but we cannot avoid saying something at the outset about what we take science to be, before we ga an to expiare how it has been pursued and applied by various scientists in diffeli-ent social contexts,

1.1 What 1s ScienceY What is the aim af science? Qne short answer is " " t ~ h , But " what kind of truths do scientists seek, and haw and why do they seek them? To get

2 1 HQLUScience as We Know I t H m Devclllfoped

clearer on what science is, let us start with what it is not. Science is not simply technology; it does not consist in the invention of dedces, such as those that the twentieth century has brought us: radios, TVs, VCRs, computers, airplanes, antibiotics, lasers, CAT scans, and nuclear weapons. Technology (from techne, "cral"l."')originally meant systematic knowledge sf a craft such as gXassb!owing s r pottery; it is the application of knowledge for practical purposes, to make things and achieve humanly useful results. High tech applies scientific knowledge and plays an increasing role in doing scientific research. But in a broad sense, technology includes the use of fire and stone axes and thus antedates science. Unlike science, moreover, technology is common in some form to every human culture that has ever existed. Only since the late nineteenth century has technolom become closely tied to science. Nowadays they are so cEaseXy associated that people often speak of science-a~ld-technalowin one breath. The traditional concern, of science is ""kswixlg that,'?rhe knowledge of truths, as opposed to "knowing howf" the knowledge of techniqrxes, Admittedly, these t w kinds of hawing have become more closely interconnected, particularly in recent times. In early science, technological needs, especially for weapons of war, spurred scientific inquiry Today, theoretical knowledge is a necessary basis Eor many technologies. Technology needs science and science needs technology. Research scientists require experimental know-how and today often use elaborate and eqensive technologies to test their theories. Never~heless,we can still distinguish the g a d sf ""pure" ~ience-which aims to understand some aspect of the world-from that of ""appXied" xience-which is Of course, used to clzange the world in some humanly beneficial wa?~. some scientists may pursue research sf bath kinds at difkrent times ar may even have both aims in mind in a single project (as we shalE see later), W a t sort of truths, then, does pure science seek? Science is not merely the collection of obsemations or data; it is the development and testing of hypotheses, theories, ancl models that interpret and explain the data, As we have came to recognize if today; science is primarily the atlempl to understand the workings of nalrtre by means of general theories, Scientific theories usually involve hypotheses about unobserved entities or processes that may be in principle imperceptible because they are too Large, too small, or simply not the sort of things that human sense organs can detect (diaant galrucies, the Big Bang origin of the universe, molecules, atoms and subatrsmic particles, magnetic fields, genes, the evolution of species, and so on). Theories about such things aim to explairl what we can observe more direalq: and they must be confirmed ar discanfirmed according to their success in dsing so,

HQLUScience as WeKnow I t H m Devclllfoped 1 3

Historically, these features can first be clearly recognized in seventeenth-century phq'"ics, Isaac Nellrvton's theory of mechanics being the paradigm case, The term modern science is often used to refer to science since that time. And it must be emphasized that science is a d p a m i c process: Theories can always be ~ j e c t e dmodified, , or extended. A static collection of theories would be dead science. So, in trying to understand of science,'ke should focus not so much on particular rethe ""gm sults-the I-lneoriesthat scienrisrs accept ar any gimn time-but on the way the game is played, the rules that govern it, what the goals are, and what consequences can be expected. We shall examine the scientific approach to cluescions as a critical atitrlde townrd resting propositions and acquiring howledge, rather than thinking of science as a collection af facts or established beliefs. The scientific attitude is one that almost everyone takes at some time-perhaps especially during childhood when we persistently ask ''why?" and "bw?" But as a steadfast, persevering approach t s prablems, the critical scientific approach is not common-in fact, it even appears t s be nor entirety naaral as a matter of human psyctlslugy. American philosopher Charles Peil-ee (11839--19142argued that doubt is central to the scientific mind-set, whereas most people usually try to avoid doubt because it is unsetllirrg, even painful, In "The Fixation of Beliel"'"(J8"/"7) he wrote that people have tended t s fallow "the way af tenacity" "ticking to previously formed beliefs) or "the way of authoriry'yltetting the burden of fixing beliefs fall on someone else). The revolt against doctrines dictated by religious, political, and cXassicaf academic authorities was an important component in the rise of modern science. emphasized in his English philosopher Bertrand Russell (18"T2--19"i"C-)) many works on science that it is not whut a scientist believes that distinguishes him but zohy he beliews it. Scientific claims are based (somehow) on. e ~ d e n c eas opposed to authority. This critical attitude af science is encapsulated by Karl Popper" phrase "conjeettxres and refutations.'' Scierltists make hyy;lotheses, which then must meet srringent criticism in the form of observational or experimental testing, LogicaXIy, the pnerality of scientific theories, their goal of stating universal taws, makes then1 in principle open to falsification by even a single counterinstance, fXn practice, disconfirmation af theories is a complex affai~)L i k e ~ s escientific , claims must meet standards of quantitative precision that make them readily tescable and hence falsifiabte. Prediaing that an earthquake of a specific: magnitude will strike Los Angeles on Ifanuayl, 2005, is a stronger test than predicting that an earthquake will strike somewhere in California in the next decade. And since it is not clear what could possibly falsify a brtune-teller's vague prediction that

4

1 HQLUScience as We Know I t H m Devclllfoped

next week is a good one Eor making decisions, such a claim has no scientific status. A claim does not become scientific simply by virtue of being true. Even if some of the plxrported astrological carrelations bettPveen certain positions of the planets and characteristics sf persorls born under them were to hold up under investigation, astrology would nst thereby become science if its central theoretical claims of causal influence between heavenly and human phenomena were not also subjected to critical scrutiny A mere summary af observed data, however accurate, is not a scientific theory. Conversely, there are many scientific theories of the past, some sf which we may stilt. respect as wel justified by the evidence wtzilabie irr their time, that we do not now accept. Of course, if we now think a claim is false, we can no longer describe it as knowledge, But the way in which the original hypothesis was formulated and tested might remain an example of good scientific practice (as might be claimed for Ptolemaic astronamy-see Chapter 4-or the phtogistan theoxly of combustion-see 5.3). A special kind of thought process is required to conceive of Jrle very idea af a controlled experiment, which is so basic to scientific research, The f o l o ~ n anecdote g illustrates this: It was a good answer that was made b y one who when they showed him hanging in a temple a picture of those who had paid their rrows as haGng escaped shipwreck, and would have him say whether he did not now acknowledge the power of the gods,-----%p,'hsked he again, ""But where are they painted that were drowned after their vows?"And st~chis the way of all st~perstition,whether in astrology, dreams, omens, d i ~ n judpents, e or the like, (Bacon 1870,vol. 4,561

The paint is, af course, that a number of successes following a certain course aE action does not prove anphing unless it is campared with the number of failtxres, If a certain therapy has apparentty worked for many people, we are easily impressed and tend to forget to ask how many people recover .from such conditions without any treatment at all s r with other sorts of therapy-or indeed, bow many people have been made worse by the melhod in question. Looking at the "corztrol'"group seems less natural, and this step is easity neglected. Psychologists have devised subtle tests ta show the human tendency ta recognize confirmations rather than disconfirmations of hypotheses. Such bias is retained even by trained scientists when they react intuitively, without reflection, and they have ta guard against it. This is especially important when the obserlrers themselves may have strong hopes of finding positive results, .for example, in investigating extrasensory perception ar the

HQLUScience as WeKnow I t H m Devclllfoped 1 5

claimed success rate of medical treatments [whether "scientif C" or "alternathe"). This is the rationale for the careful testil-lgof proposed new drugs, Adherents of doctrines that are suspect sometimes use the label "scientific?'in an attempt to appear more credible-for example, scientific creationism or scientific astralom. It is vital to understand how to distingtxish science from pseudoscience, Physicist Paul DaGes, when asked why he found it "comparatively easy to believe in evaporating black holes and inlrisible cosmic matter, but not in straightforward things like gbosts and flying saucers that 0rdinar.y people see aU the time," offered t w basic criteria: (1) Scientists, unlike cranks, try to relate their work to existing science, and (2) if a theory diRers from accepted views, scientists try to deduce novel predictions by which their hypotheses can be obsemationally tested (1993,681, Orthodox science is not infaljible, and it can never be complete, but any additions or subtractions must ultimately be justified by observation. Sciexrlists really want to know and to know really Admirledly, they can't operate without presuppositions, theoretical ideas, and even intuition~,They shape and reshape the questions, But they must have a willingness ultimately ta "let nature decide'' the answers to their questions, The scientist proposes, but nature disposes. H a w in detail this worksthe logic, methodology; and epistemotaa of it all-turns out to be very complex and remains controversial, as recent work in the philosophy of science abundanlly illustraes. (See Suggestions for F u ~ h e Reading r at the end of this chapter,)

1.2 The Rise of Madern Science The emergence of modern science appears as something of a miracle when we consider the complex of factors that seem to Rave been required far it to get started, Unlike technslam, science has not been present at every stage of human history or in every cultural tradition. Chinese civilization, Eor example, has had a rich history in many areas of endeavor. Chinese technology was in some respects more highly developed than that of Europe until the sixteenth centtiry, and it provided some of the keys to European dominance of the rest of the world since then: gunpowder, the magnetic compass, and paper for printing. But science never really developed in China until it was introdttced from Western Europe. 111 a famous letter in which he responded to the question of why science developed in the West and not in China, AXbert Einstein remarked: "It is not surprising that science did not arise in other civilizarions; it is surprising that it ever amse at all""(qumed in Price 1962, 15).

6 1 HQLUScience as We Know I t H m Devclllfoped

The beginnings of the scientific tradition can be traced back ta ancient Greek philosophers of nature starring with Thales (ca. 600 u.c,), But it is fair to say that science first flourished anly with the rise af the new physics in Western Europe in the sevc-tnteenth centurSi, beginning with Galileo Gslilei and lolzannes Kepler and coming into full flower with Newanian mechanics. This emergence af the scientific tradition is a major componexrt of the modern age, in the hiaorian's sense of the term modern. To ge some insi&t into the nature of science and i s relation to culture, let us consider some of the historical features of the epoch leading up to the rise of modern science in the seventeenth century. Even a brief sketch of the major causes that have been suggested for the emergence of science shows the complexity of this development*The historical influences are sa interwoven that it is difficult ta assign piority. Debate contirzues among historians on whether advances in technology stimulated development of scientific theory or whether it was science that first sparked the invention of new technology; in fact, a complex interplay seems to have existed bemeen science and technology in both directions. We can list the following six major factors, without trying to point to any one sf them as ""thebasic cause" of the rise of modern science. 1, The I-esurgenceof Greek:culture. The fall sf Constantinople (now known as Istanbul) ta the Turks in 1453 is often cited as a turning point of the Renaissance, A flood uf refugee scholars into Italy brought to Eurape many works af philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy that had been wrifien by the amierlt Greeks nearly two millerrxria earlier. Knowledge of Euclid, Archirrzedes, and hitllerto unknown works of Aristotle and Plato stimulated a rebirth of ""naturalphilssaphy" "S scientific inquiry was then called). Arabic scholars, especially those working on the border of the Christian and Moslem w r l d s in Spain, w r e also ai vital source for the recovery sf the works of the ancient world by the West.

2. The invenLE'on of the printing pl-ess. Johannes Gutenberg's Latin in the late edition of the Bible appeared in 1455, Printing spread ~-apidl_qr fi&eenth century, making possible the communication required h r rapid progress in science. The printer was a prototype sf the early capitalist; printing was one of the first examples of mass prodtxction, and an effective prirrt shop required considerable capitd expenditure. A necessary condition for the early technology of printing was a phonetic alphabet, which may help explain why science did not develop first in China. Cultural critic Marshalt McLuhan [ f962) even suggested that a phonetic alphabet was the ultimate source of "mechanistic" science.

HQLUScience as WeKnow I t H m Devclllfoped / 7

3. The rise @capit~lE"sm,One connection of science with capitalism was the development of maihematics to serve the needs of commerce, such as the caiculation needed in accounting. The arithmetical notation we use today-fractions, decimals, and the equal sign-were introduced in the sixfeenfi centul-y, CapitaliH enterprise gave rise to a new middle class, which included mast af those who were receptive to the new seientific developments-tradesmen, la~vyers,arld doctors, By contributirlg to the secularization of society, with a focus on success in this wodd rather than salvation in the next, capitalism encouraged attempts to understand and control the natural environment, 4, Tlze discovery of the Americczs. An increase ir-rworld tmde, especially after the voyages to the New Wrld begun by Christopher CaXumbus in 1492, stimulated inquiry by the discovery of new plants, animals, and cultures. European foreign trade tripled in the sewmeenth cenrtrry, and the increase in aceanic na.vigation gave rise to the need for more aecurate clocks and astronomical catculations.

5. M~nodhebm, The concept af one Creator af the universe Can idea common to hdaisrxr, Christianity, and Islam) might be *ought to support the scientific projec: of using human reaon t s inquire into ttle divine design of nature. But this suppart had to wait for the right historical conditions, Scientific inquiry does not appear to have been encotxraged in Judaisrn s r in pre-Reformation Christianify Ti, some religious casts of mind, it was presumptu~us,even idolatrous, to use human reason to seek knowledge of God and his works, Rather, as preGously noted, it was Islamic schslarship that maintained and extended the ancient Greek tradition, thus giving the initial impetus to the early development af seienee, mathematics, and medicine. Some of the great names were Avicenna (980-1037) and Averrhoes (1126-1 198). Our mathematicat terms algebl-a and artgot-ithl~came from Arabic. The early Islamic religious tradition had a commitment to knowledge transmitted throttgh written language, which inspired renewed scholarship in the West in the late Middle Ages. 6. Tlze Reformation, The Protestant break from Roman Catholicism in the sixteenth century ended the latter" monoXithic authority and encotxraged individual inqtxiry. There was then a turn from ""rvealed" theology, mediated by the church, to "mtural" theolugy, which praised the glory af Sod by seeking e ~ d e n c e af s the Creator's design in nature. The Reformaition also indirealy contributed to the development of modern science by supgofling ttle formation of nation scares, vvttich fostered seeuflarization. And the Protestant ethic has been associated with both

8 1 HQLUScience as We Know I t H m Devclllfoped

the emergence of capitalism and the cultivation of natural science (Merton 1949). Other contributing elements might be cited.,Qne important technological advance was the telescope, invented around 1600 in tiolland, Galileo heard of this new tool and built one for himself. This allowed him to ""bring the heavens down to earth," as historian and scientist I, D, Bernal (1965, 292) put it: ""Ithe first few nights of obsermtion of the heavens b i t h his telescope] Galileo saw enough to shatter the whole of the Aristotelian picturef'-craters s n the moon; sunspots; phases sf Venus; and as a visible model of the heliocentric Copernican system, the orbiting of the moons of Jupiter, Gdileet's bringing the heavens down to earth by observations using his telescope was actually nut so simple a matteE: As Stephen Jay Gauld has emphasized in his fascinating studies ""Thismew of Life" in Natural History, scientific description includes interprerarion in addition to sensory reporting. Galileo mistakenly saw Saturn as a triple star. He had obsewed Saturn ""with good eyes and the best telescope of his day, but Illrough a mind harbor-ing rso caegory Torrings around a celestial sphere" "998,73), Science was not at First sharply distinguished from what we would now calf pseudoscience, and the same individual could be active in both. Kepler (see Clrapter 4) w s employed as an offrcial astrologer, although his astrological activity was separated From his work in physics and astronomy. Likewise, Nemon (see Chapter 4) spent much of his time studtyirlg alchemy, which had as a major goal transmuting base elements into gold, He has been called the last ofthe great magicians, thsse who try to master occult powers, He wrote millions of words on his religious and m&aplrysicat specnlatians, but virtually all his published works explored physics as we nsw recognize it. Nor was science yet cleady distinct from philosophy, Ren4 Descartes (11596-1650) was one contributor to the scientific revolution who is equally famous as a Father of modern philosophy. He saw his system as a tree with metaphysics as its trunk and the sciences as its branches, Newton's great Principjlk. conraills methodological discussions that were vital to his whale project of explaining nature by mathematical principles but that would today be classified as philosophy of science rather than as part of physics. In those early days of science, research was pursued by those who had the interest, the teistxre, and the means to do it, There were hardly any professional pssilions available. Newon was bfilxnate to be elected in his twenties to a lifetime professorship in mathematics (and a well-paid college fellowship) at Cambridge Ilniversiq irr England, But his predecessor Galileo had to scheme to find favor with regional gov-

HQLUScience as WeKnow I t H m Devclllfoped 1 9

ernments and aristocratic pritrate patrons in early seventeenth-century Italy-with catastrophic results that we shall examine in 8.1. Underscaring the limited career opportunities in science at the time is the fact that the term seientkt had not yet come into use-natural philosopher was the nearest equivalent, As we shdl see in 2.1, Francis Bacon was a prophet af both scientific research and its application to human benefit who tried unsuccessfully to persuade the powers-that-were to institutionalize his vision, But after his death, his idea sf a college sf experimental philosophy inspired a group of English intellectuals to form the ""Znvisible College," Mathematician John VVallis (1616-1703) described this '"college" as meetings of '"diverse warthy persons, inquisitive irrto natural philosophy and other parts sf human learning, and particularly of what has been called the New Philosophy or Experimental Philosophy" "all 19432, 193). This g r a y developed irlto the frtnlous Royal Society. In 16162, King Charles 11 gave a charter ta the Royal Society of London for Improving Natural Knowledge, and it became the first of the scientific societies or academies that sprang up in Europe in the late seventeenth century (the French Academic soon foUowed). The Royal Society encouraged scientific investigation in diverse areas mnging from husbandry and botany to chemistry and astronomy and fought the evils of superstition, such as the persecution af supposed witches. The needs of navigation we= impartant in encouraging further deveXopments of che New Science. The first nationally financed scientific institution, the Observatoire Royal at Paris, was established far this purpose in 16'2, and three years later the Royal Observatory at Greenwich was completed. A central problem was the dererminariun of longitude. By camparing local solar time with the time an a ctsck that had been set at G r e e n ~ c hmean time at a known longitude, local longitude could be calculated. Behre the advent of radio communication, however, there were only two methods far determining Greenwich mean time: to have at hand an accurate clock or to observe certain remlar movements of the heavenly bodies as a subsitute, in effect a cluck in the sky (far example, the movements sf the moon-or as Galileo proposed, the satellites oT fupiter). Many irlvestigaions of the early Royal Society were concerned with dererrnining fongitude. The problem was actually solved tecknslogicallly rather than scientifically by the invention in the eighteenth cenmry of the chronometer, a device that kept a c c u s e time at sea in all conditions, With the important exception sf navigation, most scientific research in its early aowerirrg in the seventeenrh century was not directly aimed at being useful. Intellectual curiosiq, rather than benefit to humanity,

10 / How Science as We Know 11.Mm Developed

pro&, or-power; was the main motivating factor. By 1700, experimenting and gathering facts for the ad.dancement of knowledtge was quite the fashion among intellectuals in England.

Newon obGously counts as a scientist in anyone's book, but in 168'7his new science of mechanics was published in Muthematital Principles c$' Natural Pt2ilossprkzy (translated from the Latin title). The English word scl'erzce derives from the Latin word scientia, which simply means '"knowledge," Today, the notion of science is more restrictive; it dues not cover historical knowledge, for example, and pure mathematics is often not counted as a science proper because it does nor: deal directly with the material world. As we shall see in Chapter 12, it is a matter of heated philosophical debate whether all genuine hurnan howledge amounts to some kind of science or whether there are kinds of knowledge not accessible by scientific methods, The first recorded use of the term sckntist was by British philosopherscientist William Whewell (1'794-18661, after what we now calf science had been flourishing for same two hundred years, Wkewel suggested referring to practitioners of science as scienrisa, on the analogy of art and artists, at a meeting of the British.Association, .for the Advancement of Science in 1833, The very concept of a scientist has evolved historically and may stilt be changing in our own rime. At the beginnings of modern science in England, we could have looked at a list of the fellows of the Royal Society ta see who then counted as prominent natlxral philosophers, However, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the scientific academies enlisted many who were nor: actiw practitioners of science, Early members of the Royal S o c i q had a markable diversity of social and edrrcaciunal background-they were bishops, architects, poets, and gentry-but given the class difisions af that period, it was diBcult for people to make their mark in science, however able they might have been, vvithout patronage. Only in the nineteenth century did science begin to emerge as a staindardly recognized profession, primarily in the universities, Even there, the sciences had at first to struggle for acceprance as academic subjects alongside the traditional liberal arts that had been taught since medieval times, but following the lead of the =organized universities in Germany, this tricWe of cfiange became an avalanche. One indication of this professionalization af science is that the criteria for membership af the Royal Society m r e r e ~ s e daround 1850 so that only people with recognized scientific stature would be admined.

How Science m We Know ILHm Developed I I I

Thus, by the late nineteenth centuv many of those recognized as scientists had professional positions as such-in universities or ,-ci officials af national scientific academies or museums. But there were still ""gentleman" scientists-and they were, of course, virttxally all men-who were not paid for doing their work, who were amateurs in the sense that they did it for love rather than money, although their csntributions may have been highly professional in the sense of being very competent, Charles Darwin is a prime example; he had sufficient private means to live as a country gentleman, but he devoted himself full-time to his resemlt, keeping in constant torlch with other leading reseazhers in biolo g and geoloa [see 8.11). Because of the burgeoning technicalicy of the wrious sciences and the constant devef apment sfknawledge in them, it became increasingly difficult for someone without hl1-time training and employment in science to achieve scientific results and get them recognized. Today, it is a virtual necessity to have a Pht.D. and a paid position in some scientific discipline ta be a recognized scientist. Becatxse of the massive accumulation of hlwiedge, students m u a now spend many years absortuirrg what they need to know about what has already been achieved in any given branch of science. (In his highly influential work The Structure (?if Scientific Rcruolubiovzs, Thornas Kuhn [l9621 ril[ghdy rejects simplistic accumulative models of the development sf science-but the quantity of scientific knowledge has certainly increased, however devious the process of theory revision.) Few people without a Ph.D. try to get their work published in recognized scientific journals, and fewer stilt succeed. The case of AXbert Einseirr, a then-unknwn employee of the Swiss Patent Office who startled the w ~ r f dof physics in 1905by having three papers accepted by Annallen der Physik, was exeeptionaf even then and would be far more unlikely now It is more difficult today even for brilliant students advance as quickly to leading pasitions in science as was once common; many af the great scientisls of the past, such as KepXer, Nemrr, lames Clerk Mawel, WilIiam Thomson (Lord Kelvin), and josiah Cibbs, became full professors by the age sf twenty-six* A large mnge of contributions to knowledge may entitle someone to be considered a scientist. Biographical dictionaries of scienriscs sometimes include inventors, especially eminent ones like Thomais Edisan. Very few, hwever, include Hollywood actress Heddy Lamarr, though she contributed to the technology of "frequency-hoppingr' radio, intended for use s n allied submarines in Mrorld VV;tr 11and now used in cell phone commurricarion. Same dictionaries omit social scientists, though Freud is usually included, even though the questisn remains *ether he

12 1 How Science as We Know 11.Mm Developed

was redly a scientist at aH (see X 1.2). Curiously, Kart Marx, whose ideas on economics have had such momentous inauence for better and for worse, is rarely listed among scientists, though economics is generally considered to be a science today, Identifying the recognized scientists in a given discipline could be roughly accomplished by looking through that discipline's journals, although this method has become increasingly problemsic as journals proliferae and the lists of contributors in large Among rhe tatter, a relatively small core of research projects lengthe~~. individuals do the genuinely innovative work. According to one rough estimate, X0 percent of those working in a field contribute more than half the scientific publications, and probabk only a small proportion of the publications represents s i ~ i f i c a nnew t adlieverrzents.

1.4 The Industnidhation of Science The new era of "industrialized science" can be traced back at least to the emergence of the science-based chemlcat indtxstry in Germany in the tare nineteenth and early wentietlr cemuries. This process, in which Fritz Haber was a typical fiwre [see 7.21, was hastened by the establishment of the Kaiser Wilhelm Gesellschaft for scientific research, which was funded by German banks and business concerns. This oeanization was also harnessed ta the German effort in Mrorld War 1. In the United States, the indtxstrialization of science was marked by the national effort on a huge economic scale to produce the first atomic bomb in time for use in Mtorld VVlar 11 (see 10.1).And this trend has become ever mare sbvious since then in many areas of science. Much scientific research nowadays involves high technology-electran microscapes, ultracentrifuges, particle accelerators and colliders, telescopes mounted on sateHites, and the like-which makes scientific progress in any area heavily dependent on the proper .functioning of the relevant technojagy; and hence on specialist technicians as well. All this costs a lot of money, much more than the average university can find, so funding must now often be sought at the national or ewn irlternational level, But governments and industries do not hand aut big money to fund '"Big Science'Wthout expecting something in return, whether in the Eorm of profit, medical benefit, national securiv, or whatever. Science .fundingthus becomes a matter of national policy, Qfnecessity this sort of science is subject to industrialization either quite literally, in that the research project is undert&en by private corporations for their own ends, ar more metaphorically, in that even if publicly .Funded, it has to be organized and planned on an indtxstrial scale, with laqe teams of people working with specialized apparatus.

How Science m We Know ILH m Developed 1 13 SO even in "pure" areas of science, results are often a product of large research teams, with each member contributing a piece to soivirrg the puzzle. Scientific papers are now typically published in the name sf rnany individuals, including all those in the research team who have helped achieve the result, The work of particular individuals still occasionaily stands aut, as in the ease sf some Nobel Prize winners, but the interdependence of many contemporary contributions contrasts with the research process of earlier times. By its nature, scientific k~lowledge is dependent on p r e ~ o u discsveries s that can in turn be traced back to the work of the early heroes of science, The incrmsingly rapid and complex g r o ~ of h scientific and technological activity has resuiled in an enterprise that today exllibits a very complex web of intellectual, technicat, economic, and political relationships, We shall be examining case studies to illustrate this in Chapters 4 through I I.

Suggestions for Further Reading Conant, T, B. 1951, On Understanding Scielzce. Feyerabend, E? K, 1978. Science i~za Free Socieq. Merton, R. K. 1957. Social Thc?oryand Social Structure. Price, D. de Solla. 1963. Ligtle Scietzce, Big Science, Ravetz, J. 191731. ScientFc Knowledge and Its Social hbkems.

Chalmers,A. E 1982, m a d Is ml's Thing Called Science? Hempef, C. G. 1966, PlziEofophy ofNatural Scz'elilce, Newon-Smith, W. 1X 9 8 1. The Rationalz'l~r of Science. Bpper, K, R, 1953. Conjecturesand Refitations, Salxnon,W. 6.1975. The Foundations ofScienfiif"icInference.

Qn the J Z ~ S ~ Qofscience: I~ Bernd, J. P). 1965. Science lin H&Wry. Burke, J. 19%. Connections. Butterfield, H. 1957. The Qrigias ofModem Science. Feuer, L, S. 1992. The Sekntgc hcellectual: The Psychological & Socl;nlogictll On"-

gins of Modern Science. Hall, A, R. 1962. The Scientific Itevoltkdi~n,1500-1 80Qe McClelfan, J. E., and H, Dorn. 1999. Sdence and Teehnaloa in World HE'fmry. Price, D, de SoUa, 1962, Science Since Babylon. Sarton, G, 1936, The Study sftlze Histou;vofSciet-zce. Shapin, S. 1996, The Scien tE"ficReuoltitz'on.

Images ofscience

Many different Gews have been taken, and stilf are taken, of the scientific enterprise-its costs and benefits, its relations to the rest of human society and culture, and its overdl value to humanity In this chapter we will survey some of the most influential images af science. Critical evaluation of these various Gews is, for the most part, reserved until the final chapt er:

2.1. The Bacorrrim Vision: Science as Bauntiful People sf the ancient warid had little expectation af progress as we think sf it, They tended ta look backward ta the ss-callied Golden Age and preferred cyclic Gews of histow There was even a tradition, championed by Plato, of viewirlg change as degeneration. The only hint of belief in progress came from thinkers such as Archimedes, who enGsioned suecessors adding to the knowledge that he had attained. The Judeo-Christian tradition also tended to expect cornlption ratiller than improvement, given its doctrine af Adam's Fall from a primal Paradise, Far Christianity, there could be only one true kind of progwss-toward salvation; God, not human endeavor, was believed to shape the course of history But the modern age (which began in the seventeenth century) is marked by a belief in human progress. fn the nineteenth century faith in science reached a. high point, as expressed in the declaration of Engtish mathematician and writer an science W K, CIifford that ""sientific thought is nor an accompaniment of human progress, but human progress itself"' (ZSSS>.

Francis Bacan (1561-1621) was axle sf the first and mast influential thinkers ito proclaim this faith in progress through the appficaion of the new science, the new approach to knowledge of nature, He was a l a v e r and statesman who rose to the position af lord chancellor of England under King lames 1, but he was discharged in disgrace at the age of sixty after being convicted of taking bribes. Bacon was not much of a scientist himsett though he is said to have died sew-ngexperimental science af-

ter coming down with broxzchitis caused by stuffing snow in a chicken to test its preservative power! And his precepts for scientific method were not adopted even by those he helped inspire, such as Newtan. Bacon underappreciated the role of mathematics in science, which perhaps accourrts for his rejecting the astronomical theories of Nicolaus Copernicus and Kepler. Yet despite this, he can be seen as the herald af the madern age's scientific spirit. He himself said, "l rang the bel which brought the wits together" "uoted in Edwards 196'1,239). Bacon called his plan for a new science the "great instauratian,'?rhat is, the renewal of knowledge that would restore the human race to mastery over nature. But what he proposed was somerfling quite new: "a total reconstruction of the sBences, arts, and $1 humm knowledge raised upon the proper bundationF"(1870, vol. 4, 81, TraditionaI phitosaphy alone would not seme this puqase, he arwed, because "all the disputations sf the learned never brought to light one effect of nartxre before unknownF"vs1, 1,1231. (Descartes, his French contemporary who developed a much more m a t h e m ~ i c a program l for scientific method bttt with rather less emphasis on practical applicariuns, made a similar complaint: "There is not a single matter within [philosophy's]sphere which is not still in dispute'" 1955, 861.) The mechanical arts, by contrast, had made continual (though stow) progress through trial and error, In the Middle Ages, a number of creative advances in technology fed to such innovations as improved prows, windmills, spinning wheels, and mechanical clocks [first invented in China). m a t was needed, Bacon saw; was to join ""had and hand," to relate the sys*rrraric thmlgtlt and speculative lheory of the scholars to the observation and experience sf the artisans and thus achieve a balance between ""light'?and ""fruit,""""Theunassisted hand and the understanding left to itself possess but little power;'%e affirmed, yet "bowledge and human p w e r are syrronymsus'"(1870, vol. 4,471, Acceding to Bacon, science can and should "transform the condition of human life by gaining and applying knowledge of nature" that would grant us ""newdiscoveries and powers'"voit. 4,791. Wetever could ""scceed in kindling a Eight in nature" and thereby ""iliurninate all the barder regions on the circle of our pfesetlt knowfedge" w u l d be "the propagator of mank empire over the universe, the champion of libefiy the conqueror and subduer of necessities" "uoted in Farringon 1969, 40). He wrote of his hope far the future in a s t o v about travelers who discover a utopian community an the m ~ h i c aisland l of New Artantis. They are taken to visit the House af Saloxnon, which is in effect a well-organized scientific research center; whose purpose is described in the Eollowing oft-quored passage, typical sf Baconk eloquence and ambition: 'The end sf aur bundation is the knodedge sf causes, and secret motions af

things; and the enlarging of the bounds of human empire to the effecting of all things possible" (1870, vol. 3, 156). This vividly expresses the theme of the Baconian ~ s i o nof scientific progress: Knowledge is p m r - i t ghes people the ability ta produce all manner of good things for the common benefit. One can't say he didn't aim high! Bacon's optimism contrasts sharply with the gloomy views of humankind and natlxre that were common at the time. The poet jahn Donne fa contemporary of Bacon) expressed the eaditianal Christian view that the world and its inhabitants had been decaying since the Fall, awaiting the final judgment day, But Bacan hoped to reverse the directian of history since the Fall m d to encourag us to work for paradise on earth. He heralded a new attitude t o ~ a r dN s t o q an attitude that held the book of Eeclesiastes in the Old Testament to be quite wrong-there shall indeed be new things under the sun, The idea of scientific knowledge as liberating the human spirit gave a new twist to the biblical promise: "You shall know the truth, and the truth will set you freeF"(fohn 8:32 NIZS). Like the explorers of distant shores, the scientist was an advenmrer in a quest to conquer new hontiers of knowledge. The hont~ CI62Q)-""the new instrument of tispiece of Bacon's N ~ v u Ol3anul.n scientific method"-representd this spirit of adventlxre. ft shows the Straits of Gibraltar vvith the motto plus ~4l;cra(there is more beyond), replacing the pre-Calumbian canception non plus ultra (there is nothing beyond), h a spokesmm for the emerging scientific viewf Bacon was remarkably effective, His eloquent rhetoric, aften quoted ta this day, had a pawerfur influence on the genemions that EoIlowed. He saw a new world coming into being. Indeed, it is strikirrg just h w much of his vision has since came to pass. But in. addition to all this aptim-istic eloquence, which so many apostles of scientific progress have loved to quote, there is a darker side ta Bacon's language that Ceminists and ecologiss have recently brought ta aur notice (see especially Merchant 1988, ch. 7)).Bacon represented science and technolog as the interrogaion and exploitation of naturc (represented as; female), and his language was o&en remarkably ~ o l e nand t sexual, going so far as to compare nature under scientific '"inquisition" ta a suspect interrogated under torture: "For like as a man's disposition is never well h o w n or proved till he be crossed . . so nature exhibits herself mare clearly under the trials and vexations of art [that is, mechanical deGcest than when left to herself""(2981, @acon was writing at a time when his sovereign, Fames I, whom he hoped to influence, was encouraging greater severiq in the trials af witches.) His favorite theme of human daminion over nature was often given sexually suggestive expression, as in this example: ''By art and the hand of man . . , nature can be forced aut of her natural state and squeezed and

Images of Science I I?

molded" "129). Sometimes, however, he made a more peaceful, domestic application of his fawrite metaphor of scientific masculinity: I4WatI purpose is to unite you with things themselves in a chaste, holy and legal wedlock; and from this association you will secure an increase beyond all the hopes and prayers of ortlinary marriages, to wit, a blessed race sf Heroes or Supermen who wilt wereame the immeasurable helplessness and poverv of the humarr race'"(yuoted in Farrington 1966,72), But it has ta be admitted that Bacon's more violent language does all too clearly prefigure the ""rape of natureF'-the ecological devastation that has become obvious in this centuw (see 10.3). For all his faults, Bacan foresaw that great benefits could be gained hsnl systemtic scientific research and the application of scientific knowledge in the exploitation of natural resources. He gave early expression to the hope that if only human circumstances could be controlled, humanity *elf could be perfected. In the eighteenth century, orrften called the Age of Enlightenment, the Baconian vision dominated Western thought. French economist Anne-Kobert-Jacques Turgot (1727-1781) proclaimed that all humanity '"marches always, though dowXy*towards greater perfection'"quate8 in Wiener 1973, 6391, The spirit of the new science was prominent among rhe leaders of the American Revolution. Thornas Jefferson (1743-18461, a man of many talents-author sf the Deetaration of Independence and an inventor who was knowledgeable of the science of his time-had portraits of the individuals he held to be "unquestionably the three greaest men the world had ever produced": B a r n , Newon, and John Lscke, who were for Jefferson, respectivelyf the chief apostles of reason, science, and lib er^ (Werniek 1993, 82). Benjamin FranMin (1706--1790), whose =search in electricity earned him a prominent place in the science af his time, expressed his faith in scientific progress in a letter to English dremist Joseph Priestley irr 1780: T11e rapid progress true science now makes occasions my regretting ssmeti~nesthat 1 was born too soon. It is impossible ts i~nritaignethe height to which may be carried, in a thousand years, the power of man over lnatter . . . d l diseases may by sure means be prevented or cured, not excepting even that s f old age. . . . O that ~noralscience were in as fair a way of improvement, that men would cease to be wolves to one another, and that human beings wodd at length learn what they impropedy call h m a n i ~ .

Bacon's opcimisric vision lives on today in statements like ""Thegreat progress of our civilization is direcdy related to the centrality of science in our culrure" and in the learned judgment of the historian of science George Sarton, who made an even stronger claim: "Scientific activity is

18 1

Images of Science

the only one which is o b ~ o u s l yand undoubtedly cumulative and progressive'"(1962, 10). In 1969, inventor, writer, and lecrtlrer R. Buckminster Fuller (1895-1983) rhapsodized in a Bacanian vein s n the great prospects that science still offers for the fntlxre: ""Humanity'smastery of vast, inanimate, inexhaustible enerm sources and the accelerated doing more with less sf sea, air, and space technology has proven Malthus [see 2-21 ta be wrong. Comprehensive physical arrd economic success for humanity may now be accomplished in one-faufih of a century" (1969,340).

fn some respects, twentieth-century science as practiced in today$ universities and government and industrial laboratories hifills Bacon's llision much better than the science that began to flourish shortly after his death. But the utopia that he hoped for, in which nature would be harnessed for the benefit of all humanity, has not so clearly come to pass.

2.2 Frmkensteinian Nightmares:

Science as Demonic Not evevone believes that science will be sur sal-vation ar even that it is a force for human benefit overalf. Wether justified or not, a widespread loss of hith in progress through science and technology has occurred in recent years. If this is the scientific age, what are its frtzits? Is there really less misery today, all in all? Surveying the Ittlrrlan caradirion in the mentieth cerrtuqpwe find much to shalter any d m m s of utopian progress. Qn a large scale, there have been two global wars, World War I shook the complacent belief of the late nineteenth century that lasting peace, prosperity, and scientific progress were in reach. And then under Nazism during World War It, Germany;,one sf the leading nations in science, degeneraed into vulgar militarism and the horrors of the coracentratiorl camps, Meanwhile in the Soviet Union, follwers of the supposedEy ""scientificF2heoryof Marxism starved and enslaved millions sf their fellow citizens. At the height of the Cold War;with the nuclear arms race b e ~ e e the n United States and the Soviet Union, there were real fears that civilization-and perhaps the human race itself-might be wiped out, Fol-get about a bright new future, people thought-there might be no future at t the threat of nuclear war has all! With the breakup sf the S a ~ eUnion, now shifted to more localized conflicts, but the potential of nuclear and chemical and biological weapans pralikraling arvund the world still casts a paff over the future, It is sobering to consider this question: Tf the corasmction of hydrogen bombs shonfd ever result in the destruction of civilization or of all human life, would the whole development of mod-

ern science have been throrthwhile? American historian Henry Adams, writing in 1862, was remarkabty prescient in foreseeing the potential disaster: "Man has mounted science, and is now run away with. X firmly believe that before many centuries more, science will be the master of man, , , , Some day science may have the existence of mankind in its power, and the human race commit suicide by blowing up the world'" (quoted in Marx 1964,350). Even if the threat of nuclear hslocaust has receded (for the time being), there remain prablerns enough: poverty and starvation in many parts of the world and the senseless violence, individual and collective, with which we are daily bsmbarded on TV news, A widespread pessimism exists that in its very success in spurring gro~h-of production, resource consumption, and population-science has also sown the seeds of disaster. BbGousXy, at some point there must be an end to growfh, English economist Thomas Malthus 61766-1834) argued that nature limits the potentially geometricaE growth of populations through starnation, since the food supply can only grow arithmetically [linearly). He m s right about the potential growth of human population; in faet, since his day it has grown vastly more than he believed possibl has g r o w most quickiy in the poorest regions, But he reckoned without the application of rechnalogy to agriculture, which has (so far) helped increase the food supply to keep approximate pace with population growth. But the basic conclusion is unavoidable: Exponential g r o ~ of h population must eventually cease, by one means or anorher. Foreboding about the consequences of seeking knowledge of nature's secrets appears in various ancient myths. The Greek legend of Prometheus (""Frethinker"")rells of a Titan who steals fire, the divine spark from heaven, bringing it down ta earth .for the benefit of humans, This angers Zeus, father of the gads, who decides to pllnish the human race by sending down evils in the guise of a woman. He has a maiden fashioned out af clay: Pandora (%H gifis"") She is sent to P~ometheus's brotherj Epimetheus ("Afterthinker"), who rashly accepts Pandora against Prometheus's warning. Pandora removes the cover af a jar containing a host of evils, letting all of them loose on the world-excepting only Hope, It is not clear whether hope also was considered an evil-it might have been taken &I be ultimately deceptive in a fatatistic view of the world. For acting against his wishes, Zeus punishes Prometheus by biXldiTlg him ta a mountain where every day an eagle tears at his liver, which renews itself by night for ELlrther tomre, There are many themes to this legend. Prometheus is often taken as a symbolic hero of both rhe arts and the sciences, the one who brought humanity out of its state of primitive ignorance. Me represents the spirit af freedom and knowledge opposing tyranny-but with the threat that

20 1 Images of Science

those who presume to partake of divine knowledge (who "play God") will be punished by the dangerous consequences of new technologies. Far obvious reasons, then, this stary continues ta strike a chsrd in us, as rypified by this statement: "'Never before have the Promerbeans [modern sBerrtists] been so daring. Never before have the Epinlelfleans been so rash and never has Pandora" jar been so crammed with menace" Me Kopp 1972, ii), Crudely, the moral of the story rllight be read as "Don't p1ay with fire!" The account sf the Fall in the Bible has also been read as a warning thar forbidden knowledge is dangerous, Gad had warned Adam that ""of the tree of the knwledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat af it you *all die" (Genesis217 RSVf . Eve,however, was tempted by the serpent, who said, "You will not die. For Gad knows that when you eat of it your eyes wiX1 'be opened, and you will be like God, hawing good and evil" " ~ 4 5 ) .So Eve ate the forbidden fruit and gnve some to Adam., For their disobedience, Gad proctaimed, "Cursed is the ground because of you. . . . Xn the sweat of yolxr brow you shalt eat bread till you return to the ground, for our of it you were taken; you are dust, Man and woman, haGng gained and to dust you shall return" @:1&-.-.19), knowledge but lost their innocence, were ejected from the paradise of the Carder1of Eden, The hmous Gothic horror stary Fr-ankensteipz, or the M ~ d e r n Pro~uletheusby Mary Mrollstonecraft Sheley (l"79'7-1851) is a classic articulation of fear about where scientific ingenuity-not just misappfications aE scientific knowledge, but the process sf scientific research i.tself-might lead us, Witten in 1816 as a contribution to a ghost stow competition among the Shelleys and Lord Byron, the book has been popularized in selreral film versions, Sheiley presented an image af the sciemist as determined to gain hidden and potentially dangerous hawledge. Vierar Frankenstein is so obsessed with his researctl prqect that he is prepared to risk his own sakty and elrexl that of his whole society to test to the utmost his ability to understand and control nature, He remarks at the outset of his study of the Ilatlrre of life: "So much has been done , , more, far more, will 1 achieve: treading in the steps ailready marked, I \Nit1pioneer a new m y , explore w h o m pawers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation" (Slreltey 1994,40). Victor Frankenstein is ""delighted in investigating the causes af natural phenomena'"(2"1. Driven by curiosity ""t learn the hidden laws of nature," he I-Eeewsthe world as ""a secret vvhich [he] desired to divine" He studies alchemy, seeking the philosopher's stone (which was supposed to have a magic power to transmute base metals into gold,) Failing in this research, he turns to the science of Newan. Echoing Bacon, Frankenstein sees in science the power ta ""penetrate into the recesses af

Images of Science 1 21

natnre, and show haw she works in her hiding places" "0). For two years he labors to construct a gigantic living man, getting his materials by nighttime visits to graveyards, Though he finds this occupation loathsome, Frankenstein says of himself With unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, T pursued nature to her hiding places. . . . a resistless, and almost Rantic, impulse urged me forward; T seemed to have last a11 soul ar sensation but f'or this one pursuit, . . . I wished, as it were, ts prscrasbnare all that related to my feelings sf affection until the great abject, which swall~wedup every habit af my nature, should be completed. (48-49)

When he has at last "'discovered the causes of generation and lifefe"hnd rrlade himself "capable of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter" (45-461, Frarlkenstein creates a IiGrlg creature that has human kelings and reason but is grotesque in appearance, haang been assembled out of incongruous parts. Horrified by the monster he has made, Frankensteirr Bees from i t The monscel; unlmed and resentful, gets out of cantrol and ends up murdering the people mast dear to his creator. m e n Frankenstein threatens to Ell it, the creature responds, " h a s benevolent and good; misery had made me a fiend, M&e me happy, and 1 shall again be ~ r t u o u s ""0 l),Frankenstein then decides to take responsibility for caring for his creacion and thinks of creaing a wife for him, but just before brealhing life into the female creature, he is struck with the fear that he might start a race of monsters capable af destroying humankind. He tells the monsteE; "Never will X create another like yoyourseilt; equal in deformity and wicked~less,"The monster replies: "Slavet 1 before reasoned with YOU, but YOU have proved yourself unworthy of my condescension. Remember that l have power; you believe yourself miserable, but 1 can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You are my creatorpbut T am your master;-obey!" "78-279). After all these frightful events, on his deathbed Frankenstein is still tarn two ways, and he says: "Seek happiness in tranquilli~yand avoid ambition, even if it be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yoyourseU in science and discoveries,Yet why do 'I say this? 'I have myself been blasted in these hopes, yet another may succeed"" (236). Nowadays, many people find such mplnic and romantic forebodings amply jllstified by events in the present centuq, M e n we think of the enormous amounts of sckntific expertise and resources that have been devoted to perkcting nuclear bombs, the continuing research into chemical and biological weapons, and the possibilities for genetic engineering to produce new kinds of plants and animals and perhaps to manipulate human genes, then the Frankensteinian image of obsessiw and

22 1 Images of Science

dangerolls scientific research may seem more appropriate than that of white-coated purity and beneficence. Same have argued that behind much of the so-called progress of seierlce and technology there lurks a distinctively masculine, aggressive urge to dominate, penerrate, and make use of ttre innermast secrets of passive, feminine nature, (We noted such a tendency in Bacon's language in the prelvious section,) Brian Easlea has interpreted the pr~dtlcr i m of the atomic and hydrogen bombs in terns of such macho impulses: ""The principal AriMng farce af the nuclear arms race is not the brute fact of scarce material resources, impartant though it is, but masculine motivatian-in essence, the compulsive desire to lord it over other people and non-human nature, and then manhlly ta confront a dangerous world" "983, 165). Easlea finds Mary Shelley's story of Frankerlstein full of insights on the obsession with technical mastery that he thinks is typical of so mu& contemporary scientific and technological activrity. The danger is that such an impersonal orientation can involve a repression of ordinaq human affections and concerns, which tends ta result in disaster: For somewhat similar reasons, American environmental activist Jeremy Rifiixl has arwed that our two most powerful technologies-nuclear weapsns and genetic engineering-should not be used any .further. He finds them objectionable in principle because they encourage our tendencies ta control and manipulate human beings in the name of '"ecurily"' or "efficiency'kr even '"itrealth,'' while fixndaalentally going against our humanity [recall Benjamin Franklin's comment in 2.1 on what people "improperly call humaniq'": Setting our minds free from the old way of thiding about technolag will not be easy, It 14411require an acknowledgementon aur part that some technolo@esought not to be used under any circumstances, because what they do threatens either the sacred qualiv of life or the s u ~ v a h i ! i qof life. Certain technologies are so iderently powerful that, in the mere act af using them, we da damage to aurselves and our en.viron~zent.(19135,93)

There is no admissible place in Riain's view for nuclear weapons or genetic engineerirlg in a world that defines itself as a single family, livirlg in a single community, inhabiting a common ecosystem, and enclosed in a singe glabe. Ri&in is deeply pessimistic in seeing no good use for certain technologies. Msreolrer, he is worried not just about certain applications af science but about the way that science itself is practiced. Nevertheless, he has expressed che hope that we c m change our attitrrde toward science and its uses. He believes that it is possible for us to think in a radically dif-

ferent way no longer seeking knowledge obtain power by maniyulatirrg our environment in the Baconiarr tradition but rather by empathizing with it, He seems to have in mind sciences like ethalaw and ecoloa, which study the working of whole environmental systenls in natlxre, rather than t&ng life and maner apart to discover what makes their tiny constituents tick (see 10.31, He has also recommended the adoption of technologies like wind axld warer pawer tbat make use of naural events without radically disturbing them [but such projects would have to be kept small in scale to satis@this condition), RiRin has been very successful in using the courts to black reseazh and prohx~tionin biotechnolo g s which has caused Time magairre to label him as "rhe nation's foremost opponent of environmental neglect and genetic engineering" as well as ""re mast hated man in science" "hompson 1989,1021, He represents one of the loudest contemporaw voices of scientific pessimism. After the annowcement of the clonirrg of the iamb ""Dolly"in Scotland in 1996, Rikin called for a ban on human cloning. "EF$ a horrendotzs crime to make a Xemx of someone, UOu're putCjng a human into a genetic straitjacket, For the first time, we've taken the principles of industrid designquality control, predictability-and applied them to a human beingF" (Ktuga 1997, 70). N a e that his outburst, an expression of genetic determinism, would seem to make identicd hivins a natural crime. matever the reasons for suspicious attitudes toward human motives in science-whether interpreted as overaggressive masculinity, overweening pride, or lust for fame or power or money-mistrust cefiainly abounds these days. Recalling the biblical story of the garden of Eden, some people may wonder if there are truths that it is better fox:US not to know. Clearly, we cannot now rest content with naive Baconian o p i mism; we must find ways of wrestling with the dark possibilities of science and technolow.

2.3 Science as Undercutting Basic Humm Vdues In addition to worries about destructive or malevolent tendencies of moderr1 science and technolow, a different sort of concern has arisen about the overall philosophy or world~ewthat scientific understanding seems to involve. Many people see it as a threat to all human values, Do we have to accept that we are mere specks of dust in a vast universe that is totally indifferent to our concerns, as science would seem to indicate? h early expression of dismay with this new image of nature is John Dorrne's poem about what was then called the Mew Philosophy, that is, the seventeenth-century approach to scientific knowledge of the wvvortd:

24 1 Images of Science

And New PFzibsopFzy calls all in h u b t The Element offire is qui& put oul; The sun is lost, m d th'earth, and FZBmans wit

Can weEZ direct him wizere to lookefor it. (Anhafamy of the Wodd, First Anniversary, 261 1)

Donne was reacting ta Galileo's report of seeing four moons orbiting Jupiter through his telescope, an obserwtion that supported the Copernican casmotlogy in showing that not everything revolves around the earth, The concern voiced by Bonne was that humanity. thereby lost its traditional place at the center of the cosmos and was left, as it were, driBing nowhere in space. Frerrdz mathematician and religious thinker Blaise Pascal (1623-16621, himself active in his p u t h in scientific investigation, was also troubled by the picture presented in the new cosmologq: remarkirlg in his famous Pensdes (""Thuughrs'" that "the eternal silence of these infinite spaces terrifies me'"(J954, iiia206).The human race seemed no longer to be at the center of the cosmic drama, literally or metaphorically-far the new physics of Galileo and Newon describes the universe as operating according to mechanical laws that take no accollnt of human aspirations or puqoses, A major source of hostility to science and the scientific atitudt: has been this fear that in the very process of trying to understand nature's mysteries, science divorces us from nature. There were some poets in the so-called Age of Enlightenment, such as John Dyden and Alexander Pope, who welcomed the new physics and its vision of cosmic harmony. (Dryden was himself a member of the Royal Sociew) But romantic reaction set in seongly during the late eiglrteenth century, a counterenlightenment as it has been called. The romantic thinkers were repelled by what they saw as the disenchantment of nature by the dissection and ratiortal analysis of scientific mecl-iod, English poet, engraver, and mystic WilXiam Blake (1X5"T-1823 was horritied by the ugly effects of the early industrial rwolutioxa in England, and he associated these with Mewonian mechanics, This attitude is exemplified in this extract from his poem ""Trusalem,"written in 1827: I turn my eyes to the Schools and Universities of Europe And $/%ere behold the Loom of Lockc?wizosc?Woofr~ges dire, Washed by the VVater-wjzeels ofNewton: black the cloth In henvy wrenthesfiZ& over every Nall'orz: cruel Works Ofman;y Wzeek I view, uithml witlzout wjzegl, wiz/%CO@ tyrannic Moving by computsion emh otizer, not.m those in Eden, ~Jzich Wheel witlain Wheel, linfleedom jreuolm in harmony cQ Peace!

Blake felt that the new science threatened to enslave the free human spirit. Me warned us "to east sff Bacon, Locke, & Me~on'"(Blake 1969, 8X 81, precisely Jefferson's "three greatest menF7see2.1). Bfuntly put, Blake's message is that "Art is the '-Tree of Life, Science is the Tree of Death"' ("A Memorable kney") A recurrent theme in literature is that science, in its reductive analysis, destroys the beauty and mystery of narnre- Axa oft-cited expression of this belief is the following passage from '"Lal-nia"hby English poet John Kears (1795-18211, a protest against the effect that Newon's analysis a f the spectrum supposedly has on allr appreciation of the beauq of the rainbaw: ),

Da nut n El charmsfly At the mere ~ C C ~ LoGf cC o~ u pIGIi/omphy?(i.e., science] Tlzere?w m an awfil minbotu once in Heaven; We know her m05 Jzer ~exttlres;she is given In tjze dull laaalogue of cornsnon things. Philosophy will cl@ an Angelkings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empy the Izaur-zfed:ail; and gaomed minelfnwenve a rainbow. . .

hnlericarr poet e. e. cummirrgs (189411962)offered a more currtemporary expression sf the distaste for science: O sweet spontane~m ear& haw often have the dotiug fingers of prun"ent pl.lilosopl.lers pinched and poked thee, has the naughv tjztlmb ofscience pr-odded thy beaut;tr ("Q sweet sgsntraneous,"wculrings 1991,581

La;P.Eileyo~~ and 1" h u e Iip and voice which arefor kissing and tu sing with

26 1 Images of Science

who cares ifsome one-eyed son ofa bitch inpen l;s an instrument to memure Sprit~gwilS'h? ("m1'cesto voices, lip to li'p,jf262) I'd rather kar?z@omone bird how to s h g

than tmch ten r;tzousand scars how 1201 t0 &nce (you shall above all things be g l d and pung," "4)

m a t is the source sf these passionate sutcries against science? Is there any substantial justification far them? We don't have ta look only to romantic humanists, reacting to science and technology with mistmst and distasle (and o&enignorance), to find a bleak scie~ificview of nature. Many scientists and scientifically minded philosophers have expressed it themselves. The belief that science might shatter our ordinav world can be eaced back to the very foundations of the new physics in the seventeenth century The ancient Ari~oteliantradition divided motions into the caegories of ""natural"and "violent," or unnatural, In natural motisn, the cause of the change is within the body; in triolent mation, the cause is external, M e n a stone falls to earth, its motion is natural. The "final" catxse of the sane's fall is its goal; the earth is the scone's natural place, to which it is drawn, and as it nears ""hmeF3tmoves faster, more ""jubi1andyF9nplace of such teleoXogicd mplanations, Galileo described the motions of bodies in terms of mathematical relations in space and time, In changing the question about mation from the "wE-ry3'of puvase to the ""hw" "of mathematical relationships, he banished ptxrpases as causes or explanations of natural motion. Since measurable mathematical quantities are the propel-ties of objects by which their motion is now ta be explained, the qualitative sensory qualities are not thought of as ultimately red in the new scimtific description sf the world. In a famous passage in ""TheAssayer" "(16231, Galileo concluded his izlquiry into the nature of heat thus: "'People in general have a concept uf this which is wry remote from the truth. For they believe that heat is a real phenomenon, ar property, ar quality, which actttally resides in the material by which we feel ottrselves warmed'7lGalileo 1957,274).Galileo held that colors, tastes, smelts, and sounds are likewise not really part of physical objects but exist snXy as sensations in the mind of the pereeiver (or more exactly, as certain tiny shapes, sizes, and motions of paaicles that cause perceptions in human beings): To excite in us tastes, adors and sounds T believe that nothing is required in external bodies except shapes, numbers and slow or rapid movements. . , , I

Images of Science 1 21 thhk that if ears, tongues, and noses were removed, shapes and nmbers and motions would relnain, but not odars ar tastes ar sounds. The latter, I believe are no&ing more than nalnes when separated from living kings, just as tickiing and titillation are nothing but names in the absence af such thhgs as noses and zmpits. (276-2"7)

In this way, Galileo was led by his new physics to distingllish the qualities realty present irr physical objecls &am those that are memly subjective qualities of human sensation, This distinction between ""primary'" and ""scondary" "qualities has remained in use in science and philosophy right up to the present day To many people, tire implication of science has seemed to be that "the realty important world outside was a world hard, cold, colorless, silent, and dead; a world of quantity'7IBurrt 2932,239) or, to phrase it another ww "a dull affair; soundless, scentless, colourless; merely the hurrying of material, endlessly, meaninglesslyf' (Whitehead 1925,551.A theory of atomism that was associated with Newtonian mechanics postlxlated that the ultimate parts of all tllirlgs are atoms-mirrute paaicles that are indivisible and unchanging except for motion in. space. The ancient Greek philosopher Dernocritus (c460-357 KC.) had proposed an atomist view that reduced all phenomena ta atoms moving in the mid, Combined with atomism, the new physics became known in the seventeenth century as ""te corpuscular philosophyW<'""T'be view became current that all the operations of nature, $1 the fabric of the created universe, could be reduced to the behaviour of minute particles of maner, and ail the variety that presented itself to human experience could be resolved into the question of the size, the configuration, the motion, the position and the juxtaposition of these particles" "utterfield 195"i"1132). Johann Goethe (X"749-18321, a great f-xgxxre in German literature who tried to be both poet and scientist, reacted ~ r o n g l yagainst the science of the Enlightenment, In his Theovy of Cols?-s,Goethe described many years of research be spent trying to r e h m Newon" claim that white light is composed of the colors of the spectrum. Newton's analysis seemed to Gaethe to sully the eolor white as a symbol of simplicity and purity. He claimed that he could see that perceived white is simple, not composite, and thus that our perceptual experience contains qualiries to which no scienti~canalysis can do justice. (We sense white as an absence of cator even thou* the sensation is catxsed by an aggregate of the frequencies of.jisible light.) Philosophers confirrue to debate the status of secondary qualities such as eolors, btxt Goetbe's efforts to establish a qualitative science had almost no impact on mainstream science in its quest to explain the physical w r l d in terms of mathematically measurable quantities. Indeed, electromagnetic quantities-as the un-

28 /

Images of Science

derlying natuse of light-have been added to the origirlal seventeerrthcentury list of y rirrlary y ualities. Science has thus seemed to divide sur understanding sf nature into two images: the scientifically described physical world and the world as presented in our sensorqi experience. Bertrand Russell, himself very much a champion af the scientific approach, once penned the following chilling passage on the pasition of humanity in the world that science seems to reveal: That man is the product of causes which had no prevision af the end they were achieving; that his origin, his growth, his hopes m d fears, his loves and his beliefs, are but the outcome sf accidental collocations of atoms; that no fire, no heroism, no intensiw of thought and feeling, can gresewe individual life beyond the grave; that the fabows of the ages, d l the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genitrs, are destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar system . , , all these thhgs, if not quite byand dispute, are yet so nearjy certain that no philosophy which rejects them can hope to stand. . . . Such in outline but even more purposeless, tnore void of ~neaningis the world which Science presents for our belief. (1917,56-57)

A number of scientists have also described the scientific image of the world in similarly bleak terms, French molecular biologist lacyues Monod w o t e that It is pedectly true that science outrages values. Not directly, since science is no judge of them and mm$ignore therrt; but it subverts [that] upon which aX ethics rest. . . , Now does man at last the animist tradition , , , has made X realize that, Xike a ~pypsy,he lives on the b a u n d q of m alien world. A wrXd that is deaf to his music, just as indifferent to his hopes as it is to his suffering or his crimes, f L9'7X,172---X73)

Jtlliain Huxitey wrote that science presents "a universe of appalling vastness, appalling age, and appalling meaningEessness""(quoted in Qtta 1940,242).The physicist Steven Weinberg muses that "the mart; the Universe seems comprehensible, the more it also seems pointless" "(1977, 144).

We cannot in this book explore all the deep philosophicat issues raised by this image of science, but we shall say a little more about them in aur cancjuding Chapter 12. For the moment, we should note that it is not the only view on offer. Among the alternatives are the images of science we consider next,

2.4 Utopias a d h t i - U t o p i a : Science a d Humm MGrs In the eighteenth century, various woyiarz thinkers, i r r s p i d by the success of the new science in astronomy and mechanics, proposed the application of scientific methods to study and control human behavior as well, One of the founders of physiological p s y c h o l o ~Pierre ~ Cabanis [1757-1808), was asked to determine if those execul-ied by the guillotine after the French Revolution were canscious after beheading. He concluded that they weren't, since the brain is the organ of consciousness. His notorious diagnosis was that "the brain secretes rllought as the liver secretes bile" [Boring 1950,215).A stark version of the philosaphy of mechanism was presented by French Enlightenment thinker Baron dwolbaeh 11723-1789) in his book The System @Nature. He was following up the worldview that Galileo and Descafies had foreshadawed in the preGotxs century Holbach embraced materialism and determinism as consequences of the new understanding of natlxre made possible by Neci\ironian mechanics, Me viewed natwe as a great machine and the human mind as nothing but a modification af the brain. Freedom is an illusion, Holbaeh allgued: ""X a man believes himself free, he is merely exllifriting a dangerous delusion and an inteliectual weakness, It is the structul-e of the atoms that forms him and their motion propels him forivard" "(1868). With no freedom, there can be no sense to moral blame; crime is thus a kind of disease. Vet dPHaltaach,curiausly enough, offered a prescription for happiness: Learn to live in aiccord with mason! Early nineteenth-century French thinkers Comte de Saint -Simon (1x0-1825) and Auguste Comte (i"T8-1853 recommended ai scientific approach ta all questions in their "'positivephilosophy'Tossessed of mtraardinary ambition, they believed it possible to reconstruct the whole af human society an. ai rational, scientific basis, Saint-Simon proposed what n w seems a prelty ridiculons s h e m e for the founding of the Religion of Newon, with universal graiviv a s "the sole cause of all physical and moral phensmena,'We seems to have believed that society, politics, and human life in general m r e all reducilaje to graGtational attractions, By means of the new religion of science, operating through a "S$rxpreme Cauncit of N e ~ a n to " educate the public, the human race might perfect society and arrive at a new Golden Age. Here was an explicitly religious faifh in science, wilh a deified Newon playirlg a Christ-like role as Science incarnate in. human form! Many people have felt that such rationalistic idealism of enthusiasts for scientific progress ignores rhe dark side of human nature, Russian

30 1 Images of Science

novelist Fyodor Dostoyemky (1822-1881) gave toflured expmssion to in which the miserable this fear in his story Notes from U~derground~ protagonist takes as a symbol of the brave new society the Crystal Palace, rbe huge structure built in 1851 ta house an exposition in London of new industrid products. The palace was itself a triumph of new technology in architecture, but the Underground Man finds it and its contents a dreadful bore, His chief concern is the potential of scientific theories to predict behavior, vvhich he fears will transform each of us "from a human being into an organ sropF"(1960,24). One might worrqr about another supposed consequence of scientific progress: If scientific howledge increases our freedom, it also heightens our burden of respon"ibility A theme of existentialist philosophy is the anxiety caused by such burdensome freedom-the greater the choice, the greater the amiety, The flood of new information in science and new techniques and devices in technolow may result in "futurc shack,'"a difficulty in adapting to the many new choices that science and technslaa is offer us, Xn the words of the book of Ecclesiastes, "hmuch ~ s d o m much vexation, and he who increases knowledge increases sorrowr" (1:18 RSV). The more we knowpthe fewer things we can call "acts af GodJJ (natumf disasters that are beyond human control). The scientific mentally of detadlment and objectiviq and "technolagical rationality'hith its values of efficiency and cantrol have been blamed for many evils. Litanies of the baleful influences of science and technologr on our culture are often recited. Some people believe that science has divorced us from nature and that it has regimented and routinized tabor, making throrkers adjust the natural rhythms of the human bsdy ta the relenrless pace of machines. For example, Friedrich Juenger complained af "the disintegration of nature by scientific thought" "(1956, 107) and the subjection of men by scienrific technology "to a aechanie written about h w realiv cat, lifeless time" (448).Herberr M a ~ u s has becomes Rat and dreary under the repression of technological ""rtionalits'" I. 964). These are the kind of fears embodied in works describing technological anti-utopias (or dysmplias) such as Yevgeny Zamyatin's We, Afdous HuxXey" Bmve New World, and Ceorge Ormflk 1984. These dystopias have in common a central political cont rot that represses individual freedom, Life is regimented, mechanized, and ""unnatural,"with behavior controlled either by force or more subdy, as in Huley's world, by psychological condilionirrg, The ultirnate goal in such societies appears to be stability and maintenance of power by those in control. But there is an alternative, more positive, view of the social role of science, which we must consider next.

Images of Science 1 31

2.5 The Two Cultures: Science as Humanizing? Sir Charles Percy Snow stirred UP an interesting contrwersy about the relation of sientific and humanistic understanding in his Rede Lecture af 1959, ""TheTwo Cultures." He claimed that ""re intellectual fife af the whole of Western society is increasingly being spfit irilo two polar greys. , . .At one pole we have the iiterary intellectuals. . . . at the other scientists. . , Between the two [there is] a gulf aE mutual incamprehension-sometimes (particularly among the young) hostiliw and dislike, but most of all Lack of understanding" "11959,4). Snow thought he could straddle the gap bfiween these cultures that he distinguished so dramatically; he described himself as "by training 1was a scientist; by vocation X was a witer [of nwelsl'"(X959, 1). Few have been happy with his assessment of two divergent cultures withir-rour society But the amount af controversy he airsused shows that he struck a nerrre, and his phrase ""re two culturesP%hasbeen ~ d e l used. y Snow's distinction reflected in part the tradition of British education, which until recently endorsed a curriculum dominated by the humanities, especially the Latin arld Greek classics, The only sciences included in the traditional fiberaf arts in medieval times were mathematics and astronomy The rest had to struggle to gain recognition in the universities in the nineteenth century [see 1.3). The interesting question raised by this split in priorities is not s s much about different culmres but about differences in indi~dualattitudes toward science, which seem to fall into a fairly caherem dichotomy. Historian af science George Sarton had noted that ""te most omir-rousconflict of our time is the difference af opinion, af outtoak, between men of letters, historians, philosophers, the so-called humanists, on the one side, and scientists on the ather" (1936, 54). Thus, Snow's two cultures are better viewed not as classes of individuals (scientists versus humanists) but as contrasting attitudes that the same person might feel in different contexts, As lfacob Branowski (1965) rightly protested, we can't categorize some people as pure thinkers and others as pure "feelers." The following is a list of apposing qualities that characterize the contrast between the stereotypical scientist and the traditional literary, artistic, romantic person: reason abstract general restrained

feeling concrete particular spontaneous

32 1 Images of Science

determined logical simple-minded analytic atomistic reality optimistic masculine Yang left brain

free intuitive muddle-headed synthetic holistic appearance pessimistic femirline Yin right brain

Such black-and-white contrasts shouldn't be taken too seriouslythey tend to break dawn in. particular cases-but the stereotypes do stand out rather clearly, (A similar set of polar opposites is presented in Robert Pirsig'ri Zen and the A a of M-zbor~cleMaintenance If 9741, whi& tries to reconcile the classic and romantic vievointts,) This polarity is a pervasive theme in. discussions of the role of science in society and is expressed in many guises. For example, consider the complaint against the scientific culture as E-taGng"too much left brainltecfillnologicaIInumbercrunctlingiXogicaI stuff, and not enougll of the fey, inrtlitive, creative, feeling, Iwky right-hain bit, That is rhe root of our current problem'" (Kinsman 1993,56),Consider also the fal2owing contrast between these two worldviews: Western culture has for a long time been trying to manage a societly"based an incompatible pictures af rediq-one kscientifichitnd the ather in solrte sense kspiritud: . . . The scientific world~ewwas, and is, pswerhlly influential in the political, economic, and industrial institutions of modern socieq, However, people have tended to five their lives by, and sociefy to derive its values from, the other, colrtpefingworldView. (Hwman 1993,140)

Snow complained that the typical literary intellectuat did not know much about science and, worse yet, was not aware of llle depth of his ignorance, An exampIe ta suppart Snow's point is this passage by AngloFrench witer and poet HiiXlaire BeHae, who offered an unintentionally naive caricature of how science work: Anyone aE common mental and physical health can practise scientific research, . . . h y s n e can try by patient experiment what happens if this s r that substance be mixed in this or that proportion with same other under this ar that condition. Anyone can vary the experiment in any number af ways. He that hits in this fashion on some&ing novel and of use will have

fame. . . . The fame will be the product of luck m d industry, It will not be the product of specid tdent, (1931,226)

Presumably Belloc believed that mere perseverace and good fortune are required Eor success in science, as opposed to the special talent needed to produce literary works. True enough, scientific discoveries generally involve patient experimmting and in some cases a bit of luck, But there is more to science than that-one must have imagination and inspiration* And although prafific U S . inventor Thornas Edison (1847-1931) assigned only I percent of the credit for scierltik discweries to inspiration, as compared to the 99 percent he attributed to perspiration, a glance at actuai cases in the hismry of science demonstrates just how crucial that 1 percent is, Snow, in sharp contrast to the proponents of pessimistic images of science whom we have considered in 2.2 through 2.4, was disfi~lctfy more positive about scientific culture and attitudes, His general view was that the future belongs to science [whatever future humankind has, that is), and he argued that science-based industrialization "is the only hope af the paar" "(1959,271 since '"edth, food, education; nothing but the industrial revolution could have spli-ead them right down to the very poor, These are primary gains-thew are losses too, of course. . . . But the gains remain. They are the base of our social hope" C 1959,291. Other thinkers also find hope for the future in the scientific attitude, Some see the scientific communiq as providing a good model for democratic freedom and cooperation*Rabert Cahen suggested that the ethic of the scientific community is "the democratic ethic of a cooperative republic" '1974, 141) and that the tradition of science has achieved a "unique fusion af obligation and rebellion" "IJ48), of competition and yet cooperation. Science tends to foster a democratic forum of ideas, with an obligation to make the results of scientific research public and not to repress contrary views*Qf course, such an ideal has not always been met, as will be demonstrated in some of our case studies. But science has Bu-trrishedbest where its tradition& values are recognized-and science perhaps contributes to their recognition: freedom, tolerance, independence, perseverance, originality, tntthhrlness, and international fraternity* Has any other institution acmally exlnibited a better model of human b e h a ~ o r 7,? Rsbert Qppenheimer argued aptimistically that "of all intellectual activity. . . science alone has turned out to have the kind of universaliry among men which the times require" and that "if one l o a h at past history, one may derive some encouragement far the hope that science, as one of the forms of reason, wi11 nourish all of its forms" (1986,208-209).

34 1 Images of Science

Recently, the distinguished biochemist Max Perutz has echoed not only rhe Baconian spirit detailed in 2.1 but also Snow$ idea of the positively humanizing mission of science: "Christians throughout the Dark and Mddte Ages seem to have intesywted this ixljunction (Jesus5mman on the Mount] to mean that man should not strive to better his lot in this world but should prepare himself far the next. Science has reversed these values by convincing man that it lies in his pawer to improve the conditions of his own life and that of his fellow men in this worldF90989, 216)- Perutz claimed not just that science has given us knowledge about the nattxral world, which. is applicable for our own benef'll, but that it has had a fundamen~srlinfluence in changing human attimdes for the better. Science is here credited with having a civilizing or humanizing effect, a replacement of unrealistic religious values by robustly practical, this-worldly concerns, This is missianary zeal for science, indeed!

2,6 The Thesis of the Vdue-

Neutrality of Science Can science give us objective answers to questions about .values?A cammon response to the whole question sf how science relates to values is ta say that it is fundamentally and strictly value-neutral, Science, sa this argument goes, neither irzvalidates all human values [as suggested in 2.3) nor supports particular values, whether ""gsod"or ""bd" (as suggested in 2.2 and 2.5). According ta this view, science can deal only with facts, rather than values; with techniques, radler than goals; and with means to ends, rather than ends in themselves. The question of how to use the power that scientific understanding gives us, to what ends ta apply the rrw techniques for changing the vvorld that science offers us, is completely up ta us. To invoke the commonly used phrase, all such questions are ""for society ta decide,"'The fallowing three claims can be distinguislred as part of this image of scientific rreutrajity: 1: Science offers us objective knowledge of how the world works and hence of the consequences of various in&rventions in it, but there can be n s such knowledge of whether we should make any particular interventions. A sharg distinction between facts and values is here assumed to rule out any knowledge of the latter, so the adoption of goals and policies is seen as a matter of merely ""subjectiveF5nldi~dualopinion. This separation of facts from values seems to foIlo\ru from the irnpossibiliq, as Scouish philosopher David Hume (1711-1776) said, of deriving "oughtF' from ""is"'-a conclusion expressing a value judgment can only be de-

duced from valuation assumptions. Thus, well-known philosopher of science Carl Hempel argued that although hypothetical judgments like ""ryou administer 5 mg af cyanide to this baby, it will die" express sdentific facts, categoricd judgments of value such as "KIlng babies is evil" are ""not amenable ta scientific test and confirmation or disconfirmation" "(1960,45), According to this ~ e v vscience ; provides means (""instrumental" values) but never ultimate ends. As German economistlsociologist Max Wber (f 8641920) remarked, science is like a map that can tell us haw to gel: ta many places but not where to ga. 2: According ta the ctassic ideal, the only value recognized by the scientist as such, the only value actually involved ir-r doing science, is that af knowledge .for its own sake, She may welcome the possibility of usehl applications of her research, but as a scientist she is devoted purely and simpfy to the extension of hurrsm knwledge as an end in itself. In this respect, she is just like her university colleagues the Sanskrit philologist, the medieval historian, and the pure m~henzatician,who delight in the achievement of new knowledge and unders~ndingeven if there is no prospect sf its being useful in any practical way. As an eloquent nineteenth-century expression of this view, consider this passage from the physicist Mermann von Helmhol&: Whoever, in the pursuit sf science, seeks after immediate practicstl utilify, may generdly rest assured that he will seek in vain. All that science can achieve is a perfect knowledge and a perfect understanding of the action af naturd and moral -Forces. Each individud student must be content to find his reward in rejoicing aver new discoveries, as aver new victories aE d n d aver reluctant matter, ar in enjoying the aesthetic beauty of a well-odered field af knodedge, where the connection and filiation of every detal is clear to the ~rtind,he must rest satisfied with the consciousness that he too has contributed something to the increasing fund af knowledge an which the dominion of man aver all the forces hostile ta intelligence reposes. ( H e l ~ o l t 1893, z quoted in Ravetz 19?1,39)

3: The appXicatians sf scientific knowledge are far ""saeietyF9lodecide* The applied scientist ar technologist is the servant of other people, using his expertise toward ends that are chosen in whatever way it is that individuals and institutions make such choices. Some believe that there is such a thing as knowledge sf the right way .for human beings ta livewhether derived from an immemoriaf social tradition, a sacred book, an attthori@l:ivechurch, a theocracy of mullahs, the ideology of a ruling party, s r an inspired leader. All these different belielrers can equally ap-

36 1 Images of Science

ply scientific knwledge tamrcl their variouxs (and pexlhaps conflicting) visions of what constitwes the good life for humanity Those who are more skeptical about the possibility of knowkedge of values will typically suggest at this paint that the ends ta which scientific knowledge is to be applied should be determined by a democratic process that allws society's decisions to emerge from the mass af indi~dual,subjective apinions, U.S. physicist Edward Teller; whom we will meet in 10.1, has expressed this view as; follows: The scientist" responsibgiq is to find out what he c m about nature. It is his responsibiliq to use new howledge to extend manS power over nature. . . . When the scientist has learned what he can learn and when he has built what he is able to build his work i s not yet done*He tnust also ewlain in clear, simple, and understandable terms what he has found and what he has constructed. And there his respsnsibili~ends. The decision an how to use the resuits of science i s not his. The right and duty to make decisions belongs to the people. . . . The scientist has done his ftfl duty only if he becomes a full participant aE our vital, pwadoficstl, multicolored, democratic society; (1960,21--22)

There are splendid-sounding words in af.1these quatations, and they express much af the conventional wisdom of our age, Yet all three elements of this picture of the value-neutrality of science are open to question, Thesis I makes a conrroversiaf assumption about a sharp distinction between facts and values and in so doing raises profound philosaphical questions that we cannot hope ta explore in any depth in an introductory book like this. Howewr, in Chapter 12 we shall examine a little more system;atically the question of how science and values are related. And in Chapters 4 throuxgh 10, as we survey a number of ease hisfories in science, bringing our the variety of huma1-r motivarions and the socid pressures involved in them, we will find plenty of reasons to question theses 2 and 3.

Suggestions for Further Reading Ben-DaGd, H, 19"I. TheScienfist"sole i~ SocietJr; Berman, M . E98 1, The Reenchantment. oftjze World Burrt, E. A, 1932 The MetlzplzysicwI Foundati-ons ofMadem Science, Comelius, 1).K., and E, St. Vincent, 2964. Glillures in Conpicl: Perspectives on the Snow-Lecavlis Contrsversy. Farrington, B. 1966. The Philosophy ofpraneis Bacon, Gendron, B. 1977" Technologyand t.ke Human Condigion.

Merchant, C,, E 980, me Death of Nature: Vliotnen,Ec010g, and the Scien~ificRevolution, Passmore, J. E9'78, Science and Its Critics. Pirsig, R. 1974. Zen and the Art of Molnrcycle Maintenance: An Inquiv into VaEues, Rikin, J. 1991. BiospFzerct I;"olitics:ANew Conscbusnmfor a. Mew Century SheXIey, M . W 1994. Fran kenskin, or the Madern Prometheus.

at Motivates Scientists?

To gain a more detailed perspective on science and its historical development, we shall be examining in this chapter the work of some selected scientists in their various historical, social, political, and economic contexts*We shdl ask how pure scientific curiosity; the valuation of bowledge as worth having for its w n sake, inkracts in the real world with other ntlotives, values, and pressures. Mre shall look at some famous (and notorious) examples as well as same lesser-known figures; unfamiliar aspects of certain great scientists will also be cansidered, We will be asking questions about what motivated them to do what they did in the circumstances in which they lived and worked. In this way we shall try to bring out the values that have actually been involved in scientific work and to suggest how they have dewloped and changed over time. Qur selection and presentation of case studies is bound ta reflect aur a m presuppositions of what science is and ought to be, It is our hope, however, that the large range of examples, themes, and issues we raise will avoid a narrow bias.

3,2. Who Counts as a Scientist? TE we are to focus on particular scientists, we need first to address the question, Who coun% as a scientist? Everyone has heard of great scientists such as Galileo, Newton, Darwin, and Einstein. But besides such towering figures, there are lots of others who ohiortsly count as scientists. Many thousands of people presently consider themselves part of the scientific cammunity in some way Some of them, though hardly belonging ta the same class as Einstein, have made important contributiuns to scientific theory but many of them have not-if by imparrant we mean "generally acknowledged as significant by scientists in the relevant discipline." Tr has been claimed that more than 90 percent of all the scientists who have ever lived are alive today. matever the exact definition of scientist, this assertion points up something special about our age: Many more people are employed in some aspect of science than ever before, If" we were to include all those whose occupations make use of scientific re-

search in some way-computer technologisrs, engineers, physicians, and laboratory workers, for example-then the total could be as high as severat miflilion scientists in the United States alone. But even though engineers and physicians have ta study science as part of their training, use science ir-rtheir wark, and may make contributions ta science, they do not commonly call themselves scientists. Likewise, the National Science Foundation in the United States classifies only a small pexentage of physicians and engineers as scientists. Laboratory technicians, who may 01 may not be required to understand the theories behind the research to which they are contributing, are not so much players in the game of science as they are assistants on the sidelines. Science teachers, vvbo may have much scienrific knowledge but are not themselves trying to add to it, are also not usually considered scientists. Thus, we must =member the distinction betthreen the milfions of people h o s e work is connected with science in some way and those who are scientists, doing research that attempts to extend scientific knowledge arld understanding. Having and using a store of scientficaUy obtained knowledge, however accurate and useflxl it may be [such as the databases af the U.S. Departments of Defense, Energy; or Agriculture), is not sufficient to make one a scientist, As we have seen in Chapter 1, the very concept of the scientist has evolved over time arld may still be changing. Despite the blurring ofthe concept today, with the industrialization of science and the closer association between science and technology, we can usuaUy single out clear cases of research wark h a t have contributed directly to new knowledge, So we can distinguish basic (or "fundamental" or "research") scientists as those attempting to do creative work in science, trying in some way ta enlarge howledge or improve an existing scientific theory. But it has been difficult for those who were not g e ~ l e r n e n(in the early years of modern science] or nor male and white (at least until recently) ta become accepted as scientists. The practice of science-and the social status of scientists-has nelrer been immune to d d e r social influences and pressures, Besides those who use science withaul: atlerrlpting to contribute to it, there are also those who may claim to be scientists but who do not deserve this title, The primary cfiteria for identifgring pseudoscience, s i p s by which the bogus can be distinguished from the genuine article, refate to the logic and methodofam af science, The pseudosciences generally fail ta give any novel, and definitely falsifiable, observational predictions (see 1.1).Other secondary criteria have to do with the social relations of would-be scientists and the motivations for their work. Since scientific communities are in large part defined by their institutions-their meetings, publications, and networks of communication-isolation from the scientific cammunity tends to mark certain theorists as pseudascien-

40 1 What Motivates Scientlsfi?

tists, But such criteria wolxld be circular if we had na independent way to pick out genuinely scientific communities. (Why don? astrologers farm such a community?) Qnce again, we have to ask whether members of a wolxld-be scientific community systematicaXZy submit their theories to the test of observatian. A kind of selrere honesty is built into proper scientific inquiry TndiGdual scientists do not always live up to the ideal, but at least in mainline academic science, the honesty of scientists compares rather wel with other prokssions, They m q not be innately better human beings, but the nature of scientific inquiry, scientific communication, and the acquisition of scientific mprrtatiun requirt;.that all experimental claims be in principle replicable by arlyone anywhere (provided one has the requisite material and equipment). Fraudulent claims are unlikely to advance an individual scientist" career far very long. But let us rsw ask what motivates people to engage in the stringent mental discipline that is involved in doing science.

3.2 Thevariety of Motives Driving Scientists John Ziznan noted irr his a&-citedwork Public Knowledge (1968)that our image of the scientific life is "s~onglycettored by the mphology of the [heroic] perisd," with the scientist pictured as ""a lonely dedicated personality, grappling with problems that he has set himself," who is inner directed and follows his own star (82).h the case studies in Chapters 4 and 5 will illustrate, this image sf the scientist as tireless seeker after truth is not entirely off llle mark for many of the great classic sdentists, Contemporary science, however, as later chapters will show follows much less the Great Man vision sf science, Research today commsnly involves warns of scientific:rbeorists and experimenters along with supporting technicians working together on large projects sponsored by corporations and guvernmental agencies, Suppose little Sorlia says, "VVhen 'I grow up, 'I want to be a scientist!" To what image of scienti~sis she likely tu be attracted?What draws a wung man. or woman into science? Many scientists have remarked that they were inspired by reading about a great discovery that struck a deep charcf.of interest. A nurnber uf other possible motivatiuns come to mind: the desire to be recognized, to acquire prestige or .fame; the desire to help people, to ixxlprove the human condition in some way and to be recognized as useful. Of course, only a few of those who work in science today fir the classic picture s f a scientist driven to uncover the secrets of nature, Many of those assisting in team projects, gathering and processing scientific data, were rrrotiva~dto work in science simply in order to suppart themselves with a rewarding employment, But what stands sut

What Motivates Sciecsn gist$? 1 4 1

in many scientistskocl,n accauna of their m~ivaitionsis curiosity to see how nature works and to discaver something that no one has known befare, People's motives tend to appear more diverse and complex the more carehlly we scrutinize them. if Mr. Jones tells us why he became a lawyex; a businessman, ar a psychotherapist, we might wonder what his real reason was, what his underlyirlg motives w r e . A Freudim psychologist might suggest one kind of rrrotjve; a behaviarig would offer a different account. m a t brings someone into science in the first place, and what actually motivates a scientisl: at any given moment as he or she works in the lab or in the field?At one level we can identiEy the general aims of the enteprise: to adwnce theoretical knowledge or to make discoveries useful to humankind, But the immediate, short-term mativations that scientists report may be curiosity about a particular phenomenon, e r l j ~ e noft tinkering about in the lab, the need to finistt a paper to impress the bass s r an appointments committee, or the pressure to meet the deadline for a grant applicaion. Some of the possible motivatisns that come to mind for chaosir-rgany accupation are that the work is fun or glamorous, that the work helps people or satisfies parental expectations, and that it promises fame, power, or money 1, G. Crowher, in his pioneering book The Sociai.&lations of Science (194 l),offered a list sf five ""personal motives'9ar scientists doing reseazh that include rnost of those usually cited: The one which is best known, m d rnost frequentfy mnounced by scientists themselves, is curkosil;tr or the desire for understanding for its own sake. Another very powerful and general rnotive is the desire "for repufaLE'on,A third is the need to earn a living. A fourth is the desire ta enjoy one?sevA fifth is the desire ta serve Izumaniq. Very little psychological research has been done to discover the relative weight of these motives in practice. (511, our itdics)

Without attempting to s f i r anything that could be dignified with the title sf psychological research, we shall in the chapters that .follow present same case studies that iltustrate the opemtion of these motives as well as others. \Ne shal try to assess how personal motives and sociat influences have driven science in the past and, with some differences, how they continue ta drive research today. Looking back again to Bacon's vision of science as discussed in 2.1, W find a very defxnite .view of what the motivation of scientists ought to be. Knowledge-that is, scienee-should not, in Bacon's opinion, be pursued "either far pleasure of the mind, for contentiun or for superioricy ta athers, or far profit, s r fame, ar power, or any af these inferior things;

42 1 What Motivates Scientlsfi?

but for the benefit and use of life'"(18"7, vol. 4,21), In this severe judgment, Bacon showed a shrewd awareness of the mixed nature of human motives, But what may strike the contemporary reader as strange is the implication that ""pleasure of the mind," which we might describe in more dignified terms as pure irztellectrral satisfaction in understanding the workings of nature, is an itzfel-ior motive. This clashes with the primacy most scientists today give to the desire for understanding for its own sake. Bacan's extreme emphasis on utility is, however, more understandable if taken in its historical context. Witing at the threshold of the rise of modern science, Bacon felt it n e c e s s q to oppose the prewiling tradition that the pursuit of tulowfedge of nature was proper only for gentlemen who had the ability and the leisure .for theoretical speculation. The practicalities of life, such as cookery and child rearing, and the physical labor invoived in mining, building, and farming were Largety the work of slaves in ancient Greece and of vviives, sewants, and workers in Bacon's time, But he wished to persuade his readers that scientific howledge of naturc would pay practical dividends in raising the standard of living of everyone in society, not just the elite. And he wanted knotvledge to be publicly available r ~ t r ethan r resemd for the initiates of secre societies of astrologers, alchemists, or magicians; claims to knowledge should be open to test by any qualified obserrrer, So, in tune with the rising democratization of economic opportunity; Bacon focused on "the benefrr and use of life'" as the proper aim of science. Among scientists themselws, more emphasis has usually been given to the Greek ideal of knowledge for its o m sake as the purest and lofttiest motivation for scientific work, Aristotle proclaimed that "' all men by nature desire to knowF7CJ984,98Qa22).Since Bacon's time it has become a standard view among scientists that pure curiosity should be the primary-and perhaps the only-motivation of the true scientist, Most scientists (at least until recently) would probably agree with HelmhoXtzFs expression of this view (see 2.6) and with the similar view of French mathematician and physicist Henri Paincar6 (1854-1912),who ctairned that "the scientist does not study nature because i t is useful to do so. He studies it because he takes pleasure in it, and he takes pleasure in it because it is beautiful'" (1952, 22). Another example of this orientation is p r a ~ d e dby Glenn Seaborg, NabeX Prize winner in. chemistry: ""Ihis basic research, the motivating force is not a utilitarian goal; its keynote is intellectual curiosity and a desire for discovery" (Love and Childers 1965,331.

Much of the knowledge gairted through scientific research has nonetheless yielded useful applications, In our own time, if is a common expectation that advances in theoretical science will geld useful tech-

nology as a by-product, k r however strongly they are hoped for, the spin-of% from fundamental scientific research cannot be confidently predicted in advance. But since those holding the governmental and induarial purse strings Tor expensive wsearch projects (Eke the Httbhle telescope or the supercutlider) are usually motlvated by considerations af utility ar profit, many scientists today need to play up the probable applications of their reseazh in order to get funding for it, Most seientists as irrdividuals, however, still tend to emphasize the aim of addirrg in some way to our understanding sf nature. Einstein was one of the purest examples in all science of sheer intellectual intoxication with undersfarldirrg the deepest secrets of the physical universe. His expression of this primary motivation for the practice af science often. takes s n a retigious tone, as in the .followingremarkable passage: Many b d s of men de-caotethemselves to Science, m d not aU .Ear the sake of Science herselt There are some who come into her temple because it ofirs them the opportuni51t s display their p x t i c d a tdents. To this cfass of men science is a kind of sport in the practice af which they exult, just as an athlete exutts in the exercise of his muscdx prowess, There is mother class of men who come into the temple ta make an offering of their brain pulp in the hope of securing a profitable return. These men are scientists only by the chance of some circumstmce which ofkred itself when making a choice of career: If the attending circumstance had been different they ~rti&thave becotne politicians ar captains af business. Should an angel af Gad descend m d drive from the Temple of Science aU those who belong to the categories I have ~rtentioned,I fear the temple would be nearly errtptied, But a few worshippers would still remain. , . , Let us fix aur g z e an those who have found favour with the angel, Far the most part, they are strange, taciturn and lonely feaows. . . . What has led them to devote their lives to the pursuit sf science? Personally T am inclined to agree Mpith Schopenhauer in thinking that one of the strongest motives that lead people to give their fives to arts and science is the urge ta flee from everyday fife, with its drab and deadly dullness, and thus to uxlshackje the chains of one's a m transient desires, . . , But to this negative motive a positive one must be added, Eluxnan natwe has &ways tried to form for itself a simple and synopgc image of the surrsunding world. (from the preface to Planck 1936)

Einstein went s n to describe in more detail the particular kind sf w a r l d ~ e w(Weltanschtluung)that theoretical physics hrms and why it is worth seeking. M i l e making very clear tbat he regards the desirclt for this kind elf understanding as the most hndarnentd and admirable motive far doing scientific research, he admitred that '"any warthy pea-

44

1 What Motivates Scientlsfi?

glen who have been motivated by fame or profit have built ""a great portion of the Temple oEScience." It is striking that he did not even mention Bacon's supreme motive far scientific work-the hope far practical usefillness,This might be thoutght to fall under the rubric of "a profiable return," but usefuiness is distinguishnbte from financial rewaril, since it is quite possible to benefit others without making money thereby (for example, nangrofit charities) or to make money without benefiting others (as in drug dealing). In Chapter 7, we shall cite examples of scientists motivated at least partially by the desire to be useful to industry, to their nation, or. to humanicy in general. One element that will show up in many of our case sudies is the irrterlsiq of the motjvation required to make a w substarrtiaf achiewment in science, M y have scientists often been willing to persist in frustrating and exhausting toil-to achieve what? There is an apparent paradox in scientists passionately pursuing what is supposed to be an objective, dispassionate quest for knowledge, But scientific research clearly requires emotional drive as weH as intellectual ability and discipline, W e n we examine some of the historical details, it is striking how difficult it was to achieve scientific discoveries that: in retrospect may seem relatively o b ~ o u sEverybody , knows that the heart circulates the blood, so why was William Harvey's inquiry so long and tortuws'z (See 7.1,) my was it so difficult to realize that combustion is oxidation? (See 5.1.) Or to see heat as a kind of enerw?LZlfly was it only in the late nineteenth cenfury that the bacterial cause of many diseases was widely recognized, especially since microscopes had been available .fox: over two hundred years? (See 7.1.) Wat motivated certain people to strttggle so hard to solve such problems? Wait do scientists actually do? Michaiel Faraday summed up a less t h m glamorouts image: "Work?finish, publish" (quoted in Mackay 1991, 56). Oliver LaFarge, irr an article enti-t.led"'Scientis~are tonely Men,'hffered a description that fits much of the day-to-day work of scientists: "Ta an outsider who does not know of (the) emotion, the scientist sugges& an ant, putting forth great e f k a s tet lug one insignificant and apparently unimportant grain sf sand to be added to a pile, and mueh of the tinre his struggle seems as poirrtfess as an anc's" "(Shapley et al. 1965, 35)* On ibis own work, LaFarge commented, ""Tspent hours, deadly, difficult hours, extraaing lists" (to s o b an a b ~ r t l s problem e in linguistic arche-

ology) (36).Successful scientists tend to be workaholics; their work is the most important thing in their lives, F. Robert Qppenheimer could think of only one quality he could ascribe to "a11 good physicists, . . . They all give a lot fur ptrysics; they care about it; they live it; they trrearhe it; they respect it'"(tove and Childel-s 1965,44)*

A clue to the basic motivation of scientists is found in descriptions of their reaclions to a discovery The classic example is the famous story of ancient Greek m;athem;aticianand inventor Archimedes (see 4.1) leaping from his b a h and rrlnning naked through the streets exclaiming "Eureka!" "'1 have found it!"") He had hit on what is now known as Archirnedes' principle: A body submerged in a fluid loses weight equal to that of the volume of Ruid displaced. Subsequent scientists have at times used amid terms to describe Ihe thrill of the scie~rtificquest and the delights of discovery. M e n the attention of Italian pbysialagist Luigi Gafvani (1737-1798) was drawn to the phenomenon of a frog" leg mitching from electric stimulation (leading to iilessandro Vuitla's 11745-18271 invention of the electric battery), he wrote, "1 was inflamed with an incredibje zeal and eagerness to test the same and to bring to light what was concealed in it" "agie 19433, 422). James Boxrner, a b o t a n i ~ noted , the "moments of greatest exhilaration, the momenfs when you suddenly discover that you have found out samething new, something that no one has ever k n o w before," which make the drudgery waahtlahile (Love and Childers 1965,1157).George Beadle (Nobe1 Rize winner in physiology and medicine] remarked of his awn first discovery in science, ""Xode the clotxds for we&s'"and this becatxse of 'hssrnall finding-Che identification of a gene in Indian corn that controlled the pairing of r=hrromosomesF~(5f. Guriosiq is the primary maolive for being involved in science cited by scientists themselves, as Crowher noted. Scientific curietsiq is of a wry special kind; it seeks to understand haw nature works, It is "objeetive'hr impersonal in the sense that it does not pli-esupposethat nature works in accord with our personal needs. Scientists ultimately assume that nature 'bakes sense," that there is some kind of order to be discovered in nature5 workings. A kind of childlike wonder commonly drives scientists, as Ne~orr"soft-quoted remark iltustmtes: "I do not know what 1 may appear to the world; but to myself 1 seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, wllilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me" (Brewster 1965, vol. 2, ch. 27). Many great scientists seem naturally to have followed the advice of English biologist 1: H , EIuAey (1825-1895) to ""sit down before fact as a little child" (L. Hlilxley 1900,2191, Scientific research can attract people who enjoy exploring the unknown. The adventure lies in the uncertainty; a scientist, not unlike a prospector for gold, hopes to find samething wonderful, Beha~oralpsychologist B. E Skinner seriously proposed that scientific activiry can be explairled similarly ta gambling:The seheduie of reinforcement tends to be relatively sporadic, but that very randomness-and the high degree

46 /

What Motivates Scientlsfi?

of reinforcement when it does happen-makes scientists persevere in their quest. Scierltific curiosity is rlrtwer whofly satisfied.There are always new things waiting to be discovered, and there is always the hope of hitting another jackpat, W can roughly distirlguish three caregories of motivarions among scientists: purely indiGduat motives, motivation directed toward bertering the scientific community and motivation directed toward bettering socieq in general. The most basic motive-rt^le one that gets people into science in. the first place-is, as we have seen, inteEtect.ual curiosity Closely associated with this is pleasure derived from the pmctical activicy of doing science, wllich often arnourzts to enjoyabk tinkeriutg;:in this sense, a scialtist is not unlike a child taking apart a clock to see what makes it tick. The second kind of motivation is crucial .for the development of science, namely, desire for reputation and influence within the scientific communi& This can be distinguished from motivation of rhe third kind, which is heled by an ambition to provide wider public useftllness or bene!J%t or armin &mef i~fiuencc?, or pomr and wbidz may not relate very closely to stricdy scientific reputation. The reputation that primarily concerns scientists is esteem among the scientific community-or at least in their particujar discipline, Seientists like to share their results with those who will appreciate them. They tpicailly hope to have their claimed discoveries recognized as such, to be given credit.for them, and thus to acquire a reputation for good seientific work. Now that science has been professionalized, to be recogrlized as a scientist requires having one's work published in recognized scientific journals. One measure of success in science is haw often other scientists cite one's publications, Given this social element-which is essentid to the practice of science as we know it-it can become difficult to diaingwish clearly between pure curiosity and the self-centered desire .fur reputation, We will examine some cases to illustrate this problem in Chapters 4,5, and 6, TraditionaUy, most scientiss have not sought prtblic fame or pawer, in contras to their avid and sometimes rancornus stmggle for reputation and even dominance among their scientific fellows, (Scientists may claim to be humble before nature, but they are not always so humble before their colleagues.) In our tirrre, howeve&there has been an i n c ~ a s i n g tendency for scientists to get involved in politics and public policy, often out of a sense of respansibili~caused by the ever-increasing impact of science and technolog on society We wilt examine some cases in Chapters 7, 9, and 10, Today many scientists are mainly involved in applied work, which is directed toward useful results (see Chapter '7). Some scientists have enjoyed pubtic fame [see 6.3)' and some exercise influence

on plxblic policy; whether behind the scenes in lobbying and advising or irr open campaigning (see Chapter 10). The need to seek funding has increased greatly during the twentieth centully; given the increased costs of so much scientific research, Even the need to "make a living" is rather different now; the expected standard of living is quire high in developed countries. And the temptations to make large pmofrldrorrr the commemial exploitation of sciemific: innovations is wstly greater t a c t ~especidy in the new field of bioengineering. We will look at some examples sf the relationship between science and money in Chapter 8, Prominent scientists can sometimes increase both their wealth and their fame by writing popular bsoks about their exploits [see 6. l). The fallowing is our refined list af motives and influences that drive scientists' behavior, divided into three caegories:

--

1. Motives internal to the process sf scientific research:

Scientific curiosity the process of duirrg research

rl Pleasure in

2. Motives directed toward the scientific community: rl Desire Eor scientific reputat-ion

Desire .for influence Mrithin the scientific profession

3. External influences on scientific research:

The attractions of public &me Desire ta find utsefrxl apylicaions of scientific ktloMiledge rl The need for funding [gelling morley for doing science) ' ~ Desire 1 to make profits from applying scientific research (making money from science) rlAmbition to influence public policy [behirrd the scenes or by public campaigning) This rough categmizatian of motives and ifiutences will be used to shape aur presentation of the examples that foll~win Chapters 4 through l l.VVe hope to illuminate the momentous issues we have raised about science and society not by means of an academic essay in philusaphy sociaiogy, politics, ar history but by means of a series af case studies chosen to illustrate important themes, But we must emphasize that the actual motivation for an individual scientist may be quite complex, usually invol~ngselreral motives at ance and varying according to the silttation. Mast scientists have to make a living from theit- work, arld like most people they feel the attractions of rewards, whether of money or of

48 1 What Motivates Scientlsfi?

reputation and status; sometimes they may hope to contribute to the welfare of h u m a n ~ n dMany . scientists also desire positions of influence ar power as the heads of university departments or governmental agencies, directam of laboratories, chairs of research councils, or government adflsers, Nevertheless, there is a clear sense in which scientific curiosity; the desire to understand nature, is grirnav. As Einstein noted, the other motives that we have cited can be found in rnany other kinds of human activity such as business, sports, and art, And the motives sf usefulness, fame, power, and profit take special forms within science, fntellectrxal curiasity may not be sufficient to make one a scientist. Nut every eccentric theorist about nature comts as a scientist; earning that title requires the discipline sf submission to criticism from the scientific community. In different parts of the quest for discovering and applying knowledge, different motivations come to the fore. But no activity can comt as scientific unless it answers to the distinctive desire t s know and understand the truth about some aspect of nature.

Suggestions for Further Reading Barnes, B. 1985.Abouf Science. Gillispie, C. C., ed, 1970-1980, Dz'cfionclrpfScienfificBiography. LaFollette, M . C. 1998. Making Science Our Own: PabEic Imaggs of Science 1910-.I955,

Latour, B., and S, Woalgar, 1 9 3 . Laboratory L@: The Social Construction ~ f S d -

ent@c Faca. Roat-Bet-nstein,R. 1988, Dkcovering. Zimain, 1. 1968. Public Knowledge?:The Social Dimeivlsl;O~~ of Science,

Intellectual Curiosity: Mathematical Patterns in Nature

We have cited intellectual curiosity as a prinzav motive for doing science, but how does that differ from other forms of curiosity? Human beings are curious in various ways. One kind is the fr-ivolous,ofien prurient inquisitiveness indulged in by gossip columns, television talk shows, and the tabloid press, There is also simple curiosiry to know m y sort of fact, say, which team won the World Series ir-r 1923-the kind of howledge rewarded in quiz shows. But sur concern is the distinctively scientific: sort of curiosity, the desire ta understand nature, This need not always be taken to the depth of quasi-religious passion that Einstein extolled and exemplified (see 3.2). His was ai particularly dramatic and fundamencat farm of a longirlg that most of us have experienced, at least to some degree. Scientific curiosity may be expressed in the desire to reveal mathematical structure in the general patcerns of evrtnts, Aytitude for science sometimes can be identified early in life in children who are intellecrually excited by the certainty sf mathematical proofs, for example, in geometry ln this chapter we look at same scientists who w r e primarify theoreticians, using matlremarics as a key to achieving lirndarnerztal understanding af nature, Distinctively scientific curiosity abalxt the structure of nature cannot be fully appreciated apart from mahematics, Scierlce has irrherited from the ancient Greeks its goal af attaining knowledge or understanding rather than mere belief or opinion, The truths of mathematics grovided a standard for genuine huw1edge. From the time of Galileo to the present day, mathematics has guided the reasoning af basic science. Mathematics is sometimes considered ta be a science in itself, but scientists more commonly view it as a fundamental tool-it is the language in which we read the bsak of nature, ais Galileo put it. Just haw and why mathematics is so useful in representing the world is a matter of deep philosophical debate, but the history of science has richly demonstrated that it is.

50 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

The heart of Greek mathematics and science was geometry The word geomety, meaning "measurement of the earth," is presumed to derive from the response of the ancient Emtians to practical problems in surveying land and building temples. (The great pyramids exhibit marry complex geometric relations.) The Greeks added the method of logical mathematical theorems by reasoning analysis, the very idea of ~ I - B V ~ W alone, Euclid9 Etemeats (ca. 300 B.G.], a treatise on geometry, is one of the great success stories in world literature, Although more than two thousand years ald, this text, which systematized the accumulated knowledge of geometry in ancient Greece, is still used in some schools. (New~onis said to have only once been observed to laugh-den someane asked him what practical use it was to study Euclid.) Einstein, who was deeyty impressed as a young boy by the intellectual rigor of geometrical proofs, expressed the cerztral imporlance of Euclid's work in this comment on the origin sf science: We reverence ancient Greece as the cradle of western science. Here for the

first time the world witnessed the miracle sf a logic& system which proceeded from step to step with such precision that eveq ane af its deduced propositions was absolutely indubitable-I refer to Euclid's geometry. This admirable triumph sf reasoning gave the human intellect the necessary confidence in itself for its subsequent achievements. Tf Euclid failed to kindle your youthfd enthusiasm, then you were nat barn ta be a scientific thinker. (1954,271)

If one had to choose wllish single individual has had the most influence on the whole course of science, a good candidate would be ancient Greek philasopher and mathematician Pythagoras (ca, 560-4130 B.G.), who introduced the very term mntheluzatics, Everybody knows his name hsm the Pytlragorean theorem: The square of the length of the hypotenuse sf a right triangle equals the sum sf the squares of its sides. A pupil of T'hales (624-546 u.c,),who is often cited as the first philasspherlscientist, Py~hagorassettled in southern Italy where he attracted disciples and farmed a secret society. The Pphagorean .vision is ane af universal harmorry that can be interpreted by rrumbers and their relationships. This vision may have been inspired by an analysis of the pitches sf the notes in the musical scale in terms of the arithmetical ratios of the lengths of strings of a lye, In. his Erneus, Plato developed a cosmology based on the whagurean thesis that numbers and geometric figures are the essence of reality. This was the most influential of Plao's dialogwes in Europe during the Middle Ages because it was the only one known (in a Latin trmslation) befort: the Renaissance.

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Naturg 1 51

The Greek tradition greatly revered intelectual activity as opposed ta manual labor, which was held to be frc only for slaves or craftsmen and thus was beneath the dignity of the lovers af wisdom. Bare af the Pythagorean maxims expresses a pure, unworldly ~ l i t r l d thal e Plato impressed on the scholarly tradition far almost ltvo thousand years: "a thearem and a step forward, not a theorem and six pence." hter, Euclid exhibited this attitude that knowledge should be its own reward in his response to a student who asked, "But what advantage shall 1 get by learning these things?'%uclid told a slave to ""gve the fellow three pence, since he must needs make profit out of what he learnspyquotedin Van derwaerden 1962,196). Plata offered a philosophical basis for this belief that pure rheory is of a higher order of value than practical matters by downgrading the whale realm of "'opinion" based on percept-ual experience, In his dialagwe Ttte Republk, genuine howledge is said to concern only the supersensible, eternal Ideas or Forms that are seen with the mind's eey, concepts and images that we innately "rememberp': Those who deal with geometrics . . . atthou@ they use rrisible figures and argue about them . . . are not thinking about these figures but of those things which the figures represent; thus it is the square in itself and the diameter in itself which are the tnatter af their arguments, not that which they draw; similarly, when they model or draw objects, which may themselves have images in shadows or in water; they use them in turn as ilnages, endeavouring to see those absolute objects which cannot be seen otherwise than by thought, (1961,rr1.510)

Perbaps the first great sciemifl, in somerbislg like the modem sense of the word, was Archimedes (287-212 a.c,), who lived a generarivn after Euclid. His work, wlrictr shows a degree of madrematical sophistication not rewined until the seventeenth century, was an inspirati~arto Galileo, Arclrimedes might also qualify as the first great engineer, except that he didnt have the practical attitude of modern engineers, He was famous far his applications af scientific knowledge to mifitarlr, engines, but aecoding ta Blutarch he regarded ""assordid and ignoble the whole trade of engineering, and eveq sort of art that lends itself to mere use and profitr' and ""wouldnot deign to leave behind him any commentary or writing on such subjects," which he consitlewd mere "diversions of g-eornetry at play" '1864,378). The death o f h h i m e d e s at the hands of a Rarnan soldier while making mathematical diagrams in the sand has been seen as symbolizing what mallzernatician and philosophei- ATfred North Whitehead (1861-1947) described as ""a world change. . . . The Romans were a

52 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

great race, but they were cursed by the sterility which waits upon practicality They were not dreamers enough to arrive at n w points of vim which could give mare fundamental control over the farces af nature. No Roman lost his life because he was absorbed in the contemplation of a mathematical diagram" "(cored in Turnbult 1951,26). Lsaking back an the development of science over the last three centuries, we can find some close approximations to the ideal of pure intellectual curiosity Our first case studies of scientists pursuing knowledge far its own sake focus on twa af the leading figures af the sdentific revslutiort that begm the modern age.

Keplerr Discovering the Real Motions ofthe Heavens Nicofaus Copernicus (14"1-1543) began the great change in astronomy with the publication in l543 of 01% zhe Reuubzklions qf the He~wnl;c, Spheres, in which he proposed that the earth moves around the sun rrather than vice versa. Like Kepler after him, Copernicus was inspired by a love of mathematical sisrlpliciq and symmetry as well as a special feeling .for the central role of the sun, Almagest, by Egyptian astronomer Ptolemy [ca. AD. 190-2681, had systematized ancient ast ronomical howledge into a coherent theory, describing the apparent motions of the heavens by means af a complex system of epicycles (circles within circles) while retaining the seemingly obviorxs observation that the heavens revolve daily about the earth. What distressed Copernicus about the Prolemaic: system were its untidy mathematical katures, which he Gewed as obnoxious blemishes; he assumed that the true system of the heavens must exhibit an aesCfteticality satisfqiirrg unity and perfection appropriate to its Creator, In fact, his new heliocentric system did not fit the observational data then available any better than its ancient rival, and if only succeeded in reducing, without elin~inating,the number of epicycles needed.,Copernicus did, hawelrer, offer a mare unified syaem (Ptolemy's epicycles Xzad to be devised independently for each planet), and he thus rnade a significant advance in the mathematical understanding af nature, Jolranrres Kepler (1571-1630) is a remarkable figure in the history of science. He was one of the most idealistic searchers Cor krruwledge for knowledge's sake, ane of the mast enthusiastic and intensely motiwted scientists of all time, who burned with desire to understand the motions of the heavenly bodies. Kepler had originally intended to join the clergy, a profession that seemed suited to his frail health-sm;allpax as a child had left him partially crippled and with i m p a i ~ d vision. However, at the University of Tuebingen in Germany he showed a flair for mathematics and was introduced to the new Copernican theory by a Pythagorean

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Naturg 1 53

master.. In l594 he began tea~hingat the Ifnivc-trsityof Graz in Mstria. As a prokssor of astronomy, he spent much of his time with astrolog;y, as was expected in those days. In. addition to casting haroscapes, he studied the Greek eadir-ion of astrology, seedrcing ways to make it more ""sierrrific." We used ideas from ~trulog?i to interpret the Bible, leading him to conclude, far example, that the creation af the warld occurred in 3992 BA;, In later yeas KepXerk interest in astrolom faded, but he retained a srong strairl of mysticism in all his work, a characteristic that made the more skepticai.Galileo suspicious af his theories. Inspired by Pythagorean mysticism merged with a devout Christian faith in an all-wise, all-good, all-yower-ful Deity, Kepler firmly believed that God's design could be rcvealed in the aus~err:beauty of mathematics. XIX his first metaphysical ~ s i o naf how the heavens should work, he constructed a model for the orbits of the planc;ts based on the five pIatonic perfect solids, with ,211 faces identical: the tetrahedron [pyramid), the cube, the actahedron [with eight equilateral triangles as faces), the dodecahedron (composed of twelve pentagons), and the icssahedroo (composed of Iwenry equilateral triangles). The spherical shell corrtainirxg the earth's orbit, for example, was supposed to be circumscribed amund the icosahedron in which the sphere of Venus was inscribed. The model worked fairly well for rhe planets known at the time. Kepler was exuberant at first and commented about his theory in the preface to Mystel.ium C~stnograplz-krrm: It is attested as true in my deepest sod, and I contemplate its beauq with incredible and ravishing delight. . . . The intense pleasure I have received from his discovery can never be told in words. I regretted no Inore the time wasted; T tired af no tabor; T shunned no toil of reckoning, days and nights spent in calelxlatian, until I could see whether my hypothesis wodd agree with the orbits sE Copernicus, s r whether: my joy was ta vanish into air. 1198Xl

His joy was to vanish later when he had to reject his platonic solids model because it did not quite fit Tycho Brahe" observations. These were ~ O accurate, E despite having been made ~ t h o uthe t use of a telescope, than what Kepler referred to as "the less precise obsel-vations of popular astronomy" "of the time. He accepted the relixtation bar did not give up his P p h a g o ~ a nfaith that mathematical regularities were there ro be discovered. Me required many theoreticat ideas or "'visi~ns,~ much data, and a great deal of sweat to put the data and the theories together, His work exfzibits clearty the peculiar psychology required in gre& science. He wanted to believe beautiful theories and sought aesthetically satisfiing models af the universe, but he rehsed to accept them unless

54 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

they fit thin the limits of accuraq of the best available observations, k p l e r e~mplifiesBacon's metaphor of the scienCist as a bee; untik the mere experimenters, who like the ant ""onlycollect and use," or the mere reasoners, who "re~emblespiders [in that they] make cobwebs out of their own substance," the bee "takes a middle course; il:gathers its material from the flowers , . . [and1transforms and digests it by a power of its om." Bacon prophesied that by utilizing "the two faculties, the experimental and the rational, (such as has never yet been made) much may be hoped" "(1870, vol. 4,931. KepIerk most famous contribution to science consists in his three laws that govern the motions of the planets. TEle first law states that the orbits af the planets, including the earth, are ellipses with the sun at one focus, The second states that equal areas are swept over by a fine .from the sun ta a planet in equal times-so when closer to the sun, a planet moves more quickly. The third law states that the square ofthe period of revolution of any planet (one year far the earth) is proportional to the cube of its mean distance. These laws show all the planets as fixnctioning in one system, conforming to regularities that Mewor1 was later able to bring under laws gwerning the whale universe, including the law ofrzniversa1 graGtation, k p l e r was wiHing to give up an idea that had domirlated astronomy far mare than two thousand years, that heavenly bodies must move in perfect circles, fn contrast, his great predecessor Copernicus had never considered deviating from this belief in circular motion. Galileo, too, never gave up this idea (which is traceable to Pphagaras); his principle of inertia was that the natural motion of uneonstrained bodies was circular. Kepler has a strong claim to the title of .Founder of physical astronomy, in which, unlike the tradition of Platonism, the aim is to describe and explain the actual motions of real hewrriy bodies. Vfhat exaclfy was his achievement? Nineteenth-century.American philosopher Charles Rirce saw in his work "the grearest piece of Retrodttc(ive Reasoning ever performed'yquoted in Wilson 1972, 92). How then did Kepler come to discover that the planets trace out ellipses rather than circles?The usual accoltnt goes as follows: He began by tqing ta determine the shape of the orbit of Mars-a protrtcm that hacl caused the greatest difficulty in firting the Ptolemaic scheme to obsewations. He plotted Braheis oobservations usixlg trigonometry to get kum the sigfllings ta the sequence ofposilians, Then he calculated the various distances of Mars from the sun by trianglation of obserrred positions, Finally; looking at the plotted data, he saw that it fit an ellipse, However, a closer look puts Keplerk discovery of his first law in a rather different light, In a carefully dacrumented study; WiEsan C J9"1"2-)ar-

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Naturg 1 55

gued that ECepler didn't arrive at an eliptical orbit for Mars from the data but rather irrferred it by first assuming his second law concerning areas and times. Mrarking this aut required 900 pages of horrendous ealculations, Kepler's ""waron Mars," as Xze caled it, took four years of great dedication and persewrance. He took seriously the eight-minute discrepancy of obsewations from Copernican theory, which assumes a circular orbit [Brafie's data was estimated to be accurate thin 2 minutes of arc). In having to calculate haw far Mars traveled in a given time, he faced a problem that was later much simplified by the new mathematical technique of integration introduced in Newon" caXcultus. Kepler had to do it the hard way, by many tedious computations, Copernicus had postulated circular srbits for the planets about the sun. He considered the sun ta be the propel- center of the cosmos, ""Eor who col~ldin this most 'beautiful.temple place this lamp [the sun] in another or better place tlrm that from u\ihich at the same time it c m ilfuminate the whole*""r Kepler, hawever, the sun had to be "more than a lamp"; he required it to have a physical function. He believed that the sun by some "'vifitxe'"(rllat is, power or force) caused the mstions of the planets, that the planets felt an attraction ta the sun that varied according to their distances from it. In the second edition of Mysten"u~vzC~swtographicurn, he remarked: ""1sed to believe that the cause responsible for the motisn of the planers was unquestionably a soul. But when I considered that this moving cause diminishes ~ t distance, h and that the sun's light is also attenuated with the distance from the sun, I concluded that this force is something corporeal" "(1981). He wanted to h a w why the planets moved the way they did, what made them tick-sr rather, sing, since he believed they actually generg ated musical tones. (He even used an analom from music in d e r i ~ n his third law, a striking example of arriGng at correct conclusions by using mistaken assumptions.) He never lost his faith that there was srder to be found in the heavens, but he was not content with hypotheses that merely "saved" [in other worcls, fitted) the appearances, In seeking true pbsical causes, Kepler marked the transition to modern science mare probundly than Copernicus, The modern scientific revolution. began with the hetiocerlfiic modet, but k p l e r added soxrreching new, a desire to understand the mechanisms behind the heavenly mstions,

Newton: Paragon of the Modern Scientist Xsaac Newon 11643-In71 is at or near the top of everyone's list of great scientists. He developed a theoxly of mechanics, performed research on optics, and invented calculus-any one sf lfiese accomplish me^ dune would have ensured his place in history, He was virtuaily deified in his

56 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

own lifetime. Scottish philosopher David Hurne [1/711-2775) later declared that he was the ""greatest and rarest genius that ever rose" "11864, 48 1). Nineteenth -century philosopher af science WilEiam WheweIl stated baldly that Nemonk Princlipia ("Ma$hernnti~ck1 Princ@k?s of Natural Pkilosaprcly'? was "indisput&ly and incomparabiy the gfeatest scientific study ever made" 0863, 414). More recently; Stephen Hawking, the present Lr~casianprofessor at Cambridge @he position Newon occupied) has reicerated the common judgment that NeWm was "a colossus without parallel in the history af science" "uoted in Fauvef et al. 19828,271,

Newon fit some of the popular stereotypes of the classic scientist. He was curious in several senses of the word, He could be very absentminded when concentrating on a problem and is said to have forgotten to eat when engrossed in his work. Like most of the grea scientists, he exerred himself to the limit when doing resea&, In the period bectveen 1665 and 1672, he was reported to have been ""ia state af ~ r t u a l l yuninterrupted crt;ative ehilaration arrd ehaustiosz, studying, pondering so irltensely that he took little recreation or sleep,'We~onclaimed that the secret of his discoveries was to devote intense concentration on whatever problem he was considering: ""feep the subject constantly before me and wait till the first dawnings open little by little in the full light'" (Newman 1961, 121)* He was very exacting in accounting .for observational discrepancies in his experiments, In his work on optics, having noted a deviation of less than one hundredth of an inch in the curvative af a lens he was using, he could not rest until he had found the source af the error, His capacity for taking pains is illustrated by a page in his notes on which he calculated the area under a curve by adding terms of a series expansion to j&-S;ive decimal places. The famous story of Ne~rt~n's theory of graGtation being first inspired by the fall of an apple seems to have some truth in it, if interp~tedpraperty Late in life, Newton was reported to have recatled, "When T was thinking of what pull could hold the moon in its path, the fall of the apple put it into my head that it might be the same gravilatiunal pull, suitably diminished by distance as acted an the apple" "ore 1934,441. One reason he did not try at that time (in E66, at the age of twenty-four) to publish his hpotlresis that the force of gra~tationalattractiun folluws an inverse square law was that it Aid not seem to agree precisely with calculated consequences (his error was in using the rough estimae in use among sailors that a degree of latitude conresponded to sixty miles), It was many years Iater that, with a more accurate measure of latitudes, he corrected his calculations and confirmed his initial hpothesis. If Gopernicrrs, Kepler, and Galileo set off:the great scientific revolution that inaugurated the modern era, Newton essentially completed it-not

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Naturg 1 57

(as we now know) by having the last w d in physics but by determining the way science is done. Newon's resolution of problems of motian set a standard [for better or warsef .for what all science should be like-a paradigm that is still influential today. Cosmologist Hermann Bondi cantended that "the rails of thinking in pllysics and astronomy tend to be still very much those that Newon laid down" VauveX et at. 2988,244). He went on to suggest that unfortunately the biological and social sciences have tended to aim for the same kind of solution that Merrvfon so brilEiantty achielred .for the safar system. Newan was not humble about his achievement, In Book III of Principiu, he pmclaimed, "I now dernonarate the .frame of the System of the World" [2962,397),and he proceeded to da just thar. His underlying goal was even mare ambitious: to salve the mysteries of the universe, reading the ""riddle of the Godhead" by deciphering the clues God had provided the human race. As scholars contirzue to examir-re his valumir-rousunpublished writings in theatom, alchemy; and neaplatonic magic, it turns out that Newon was a mystic as well as the coolly rafiorrai scientist he is generally pictured as having been. An extreme expression of this more common image is the remark af nineteenth-century English writer Charles Lamb, Lvllo saw Newan as "a k l l w who beliwed nothing unless it was as clear as the three sides of a triangle" [(cluotedin Fauwl et al. 1988,fi).

tn his publications, Newan separated his metaphysical investigations from his natural philosophy, but they are not unconnected with his motivation, his overall goals, He had the ethagarean faith that beneath the appearances of our sense experience lies a deeper reality that can be revealed by mathematics, His much-discussed clainr that he framed (or ""Eeignedn")n h~osrt-reses("I2ypothesesnon fingo" might be interpreted as excludingfror~natlrml phikosayI2~thar is, from science, any specttlatian about ultimate causes, especially of gravitatianaf attractian. We has presented us with one of the great paradigms for all time of the mathemaical understanding of naure. In 6,1 we shaH Look at the Less mractive side of Nevvtetn the scientist, admirristmtor, and public man.

ALbert Einstein 11879-1955) was by aXL accounts the greatest physicist since Newon. Even as a schoolboyfALbert had formed his project in life of settking to understand the hndamentd laws of the physicd universe, At the age of five, he was entranced by the curious behaviar sf a campass needle, At age twelve, he became fascirlaed by p;eometry uyarr encountering the proof of Pphagoras's theorem, His educaion was patchy-he seems ta have been an introspective bay, determined to go

58 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

his own way At the Swiss Federat Institute of Technology in Zurich, he sklpped many lectures, teaching himself Cheoretical physics by smdying the texts s n his own. Needing to earn a l i ~ n to g suppart his family he urlsrtccessfillly tried teaching and then bund employment in the Swiss Patent C)%ce.Without any academic status, lackirlg contact with any of t of the time, and with the demands of his jab exthe b ~ m s sphysicists amining patent applications, one would not expect him ta produce any great scientific results. Yet in 1905, while still worfAing at the patent office, Einstein published three momentous papers in volume 1"Tf Annuken der Physik [a copy of which is today worth several thousand doltars), One of these papers, a discussion of Brwnian mation, supplied the definitive arguments for the physical existence of molecules; another, an examination, of the photoelectric effect, contained a pioneer ayplicaion of the idea of quanta of energy; but it was his brief payer entitled ""The Electrodynamics of Moving Bodies,'%hich was the f rst exposition of his theory sf relativity, that revolutionized the very concepts of space and time. To say he was a genius is merely to label the phenomenon but not to explain it. A couple af years befare his death, Einstein himself denied that he possessed any special talents, though he went on ta cite same of the qualities required for grcat scientific work; ""CurictsiC?I,obsession, and dogged endurance, combined with self-criticism, have brought me to my ideas" (2954). His revolutionary papers could not have been conceived without his havirlg familiarized himself uvith the fundamentds of what was already known in physics, .faflowed up by tireless effort to work out the consequences of his Iryyatheses, Obviously he did have genius, in the form of a kind of physical "lintuition" h a t inspired his novel ideas, but his ideas would nst have been frtzitful if not allied with a determination ta formulare dzem preciseh in such a m y that they codd be rigorously tested. Nobody would underrake such mental tabor, especially while employed .full-timeand burdened with the responsibilities of family life, without a burning desire ta understand aspects of the physical universe previvusly hidden from human understanding, Einstein expressed this most basic passion motivating his life in these words: ""Xmnot much with people, and I'm not a family man. X want my peace. 1 want to know how God created this worfd. I'm not interested in this s r that phenomenon, in the spectrum sf this s r that element, T want to know His thoughts; the rest are details" "uo~cl in Clark 1971, 18-19). The reference to God here does not indicate a belief in a personal deity but rather the idea sf a rationally ordel-ed nature. Einstein was wont to express his approach to science in such quasi-religious terms, His famous remark, in response to a threatened complication to his theory of relativity in 1921, that "the good Lard is subtle but not malevolent'"

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Naturg 1 59

(Clark 19'71-,390)-or in Einstein" o m translation to Derek Price, "God is slick, but he ain't mean" (Mackay 1991,52)-expresses his conception af nature's secrets as open to human reason, if only after much imagination arld toil. The drive to understand the most general, Eilndanlentat aspects of nature never left him; it motivated him just as strongly in his long and largely fruitless theoretical struggles in Iater fife, as we shall see. His statement that he was not a family man is revealing, Clear-Xyhis passion for physics came before ever~hingelse in his life. He married Mileva, a fellow student at Zurich, in 1903.1-1has been suggested from carrespondence recently made public that she had some influence on Einstein3 early scientific ideas, Mileva arld he had two sons, but they separated after eleven years, Einsteir-r then married his cousin Elsa, who was prepared to take an. the role af looking after all his domestic and practical aRairs, pmectirrg the p a t thinker from the world, Einstein's papers of 1905 brought him into the center of the physics cammurzity He started to attend the important congresses and to impress his fellow physicists, Soon he was out of the patent office and into a succession of academic positions-in Berne, Zurich, Prague, Zurich anee again, and then finally at the newly established Kaiser Wilhelm Institute at Berlin in 1914. The prospect of the intellectttal stimulation made possible by the presence of other theoretical physicists there seems to have been what owrcame his reluctance to return to Germany, a country whose militaristic ethos he had begun to dislike even as a schoolbay The move was indeed frtxithl scientifically for in Berlin (during Mrortd Mr;tr If Einstein was able to complete his supreme intellectual achievement: the genaal theory of relaiviity. Tile observatiortal confirmation of his relativistic theory's superiority to Newtonian mechanics (by the bending of light near the sun, observed during a solar eclipse soorz after the war-)earned him endtxring international fame, But he neither sought nor enjoyed this. Rdedirrg Later on his scientific cal-eer, he commented in a speech before the American Academy af Sciences in 192-1: "When a man after long years of searching chances upon a thought which discloses something of the beauty of this mysterious universe, he should not therefore be personally celebrated, He is already sufficiently paid by his experience of seeking and finding." Nor did Ere seek personal profit or p w e r u\iithin the scierrtific community. His supreme reputation led to innumerable offers of academic pasitions in universities in many colxntries of the world, and he could have gone ainrost anywhere he liked, on his w n terms, Though he hesitated many times, his primary criterion was not how much money was invotved (by this time he had enorxgh to suppart his family, and his o m needs w r e minimat), but which place could offer the best intellectual e n ~ r o n m e nfor t his scientific work. This seems to be what kept him in

60 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

Berlixl *rough the l920s, despite becoming a target of increasixlg antiJewish sentiment. W e n Hitler came to pawer in. 1933, Einstein was on a visit to the United States, and there was no way he wolxld return to Germany, He became one of many prominent scierrtists to take refuge in the United States, where he found a permanent home at the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton Universi.ty. In his remaining years, he continued to try to develop a unified field Iheory that would bring together the basic concepts and laws of physics into a single comprehensive statementbut ~ r t n o u success, t Remaining true to his deeply felt intuition about the rationalilp of nature, he kept up a losing struggle to s h w that the notorious indeterminism in quantum mechanics was only apparent, that it covered up an underly-ingdeterminism., Most physicists were by then ageed that the theory was irreducibly probabilistic, but Eins-in could never bring himself tu accept the Uncertainv Principle of Werner Heisenberg and Niels Bohr; he maintained to the end that ""Gaddoes not play dice with the universe" written in a letter to Max Born in 1926 and quoted irr Clark 1971,340). At a time of life when many scientists rest on their laurels (and nobody had more right to do so than Einstein), he continued to his dying day to work on the most abstruse and difficult problems of physics and cosm o l o ~He . said that these were projects suitable only .for someone like himself who had already made his name, having indeed attained such fame that subsequent failures could hardly detract from it. He ctainred to be doing physics a service in. tackling problems that nobody else would face, AXbert Einstein was a magnif cent combination of physical intuition, determination t s struggle with the hardest problems, and nobility of character and sentiment, even if combined with a certain remoteness from the ordinary human world. In 6.3 we shaH look briefly at his attitude toward public fame.

Gibbs:Revered by a Few, Unknown to Many If you were ta ask a physical chemist who the grclaest American-born scientist was, he or she would probably name Josiah Willard Gibbs (1839-1903)*Maix Pfanck, axle of the fathers of quantum physics (see 9.l), considered Gibbs to be one of the greatest theoretical physicists,Vet many people have n w r beard of him, and in one esensive antholog~of American scientists he is not even mentioned. Gibbs did impartant work in tf-lermodyniamies and laid the foundations of physical chemistry which later contributed to many industrial applicatiurrs. His work

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Naturg I 61

gained him hozaors ffom the Arxterican Academy of Science, the Rumford Medal from the Royal Institution, and the Copley Medal from the Royal Society W F? D, Wightman, in a classic history sf science, stressed that "Gibbs must be nrtmbered m o n g the greatesl: arrd most influential of human intellects" (1950, 296). At iteast among a select few, then, he has attained a very high scientific reputation. TE~ereis not much to relate about his life, He lived in New Haven, Connecticut, except for three years spent as a yuung man studyirlg in Europe. An early interest in engineering led him to invent a hydraulic turbine and an improved train brake, He received the first U,S, doctorate in pbsics from W e University, where he went on to teach as professor of mathematical physics, Me n w r married and lived simply in a room at the hame of his sister. He was singularly unambitious h r fame. The story is told that when some European physicists, who recognized the greatrless of his work, came to the United States to visit him, the president af Yale thought they were looking for MJOIcott Gibbs, a then prominent chemist, One reason he never atcained public fame is that his pubtished work was highly theoretical and was presented in a mathematical brmulation that many found hard to understand. Even his now much-txsed phase rule (originally described by five pages of mathematical equatior~sin a paper written in 1875)was not appreciated at the time, (One early application, however, was the attempt by Eienry Adams in 1909 to apply Gibbs's phase rule to the dynamics of progress in history!) The phase rule telts how to determine the concentrations af various substances ta get a desired mixt.11~ with the components in equilibrium, in which state they don%separate out, During World War I, German chemist Fritz Haber (see 7.2) made a very practical application af Gibbs's work in perfecting a spthesis of ammonia gas, which served as a source for nitrates to make explosives and fertilizer. In striking contrast to the way science is conducted today, a century after his time, Gibbs had no laboratory arld no graduate assistants, In fact, fOr dte first nine years that he taugl-rt at Uale, Ire was not paid any salary at all. Since he had an inheritance sufficient to allow him a modest living, a salary was thorxght unnecessary Only after Iollrls Hoykins University offered him a position didhle give him a modest stipend. His courses were difficult, but he was considered a good teacher by the really dedicated students, Gibbs was content to spend his life absorbed in his scientific work. B e daughter of his coljeague and close friend M, A. Newton once described him as "the happiest man she ever knew'" (Wheeler 1962, 17%).But exceptional scientific merit does not guamntee worldly rewards, in terms of money, power, or fame,

62 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

Mel-kzer: The MalhemaC.l"cs of the Universe Emmy (Amalie) Noether 11882-29351 is ~ v e r e damong mathematicians for her contributions to abstract dgebra. The eminent German macllematieian Hermann Weyl remarked that Naether's proof that every sirnple algebra rfrlg over an ordinary algebraic:number field is cyclic was the '"igh water rnark in the history of dgebra," She is best h o w n by physicists far the Noether theorem that first demanstmted how canservation laws are related to spmetries in space and tirne. Einstein expressed his 'kmazement'9har principles of physics could be viewed from such a general mathematical standpoint (McGrayne 1998, "15)Her . work on the mathematical structure af symmetries, which represent the invariance of quantities under various changes, laid the foundation fox:much of the big revolutions in modern pIrysics-general relativity, quantum mechanics, and string theory. Her father was a prominent mathematician, but she didn't show particular irrterest irr mathematics until at age ~ e n t y - o n eshe rather suddenly decided to ga to the University of Gaettingen, the leading university far mathematics in Germany. Since at the tirne women were not admitred as regular students, she could only audit courses, with special permission*She later was allowed to matriculate at Erlangen, where her father was a professo~;receiving her Ph,B, in 190'7. The dificuilties she experienced in pursuing an academic career illustmte the extreme prejudice against women scholars in Germany fn 1915, world-renowned mathematician DaGd I-filbert,impressed by Noether" work on algebraic irrvarianls, invited her to come to Gaettingen. She was permitted to lecture there, but only as an unpaid assistant. Einstein had taken some problems he found in formulating the mathematics for his general theory of relativity to Milbert and Felix Kleirr at Gijettingen, Noether's work an symmetry provided Einstein a proof that energy is conserrred in hurdimensional space-time, fn a letter to Hiilbert, Einstein remarked that '"Fraulein Noether is continuaily advising me irr my prctjects and it is really through, her that 1 have become competent in. the subject'" g as the leading (McGmyne f 998, 72). But despite her g r o ~ n eminence algebraist of the tirne and glowirlg recommendations from Hilbert and Einstein, she was unable for many years to gain a kculty appointment, In arguing her case, Hllbert remarked to his colleagues, "Qntlemen, I do not see that the sex of the cmdidate is an argument agairrst her admission as Privatdozent, After all, we are a university and not a public bathhouse" (swimming pools were segregaed at the time). Only much later was she finally recognized as; an unoficial associate professor and given a small salary. She was obliged to submit articles for publication

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Naturg I 63

through friends and had to serve anonpously when she became editor of a leading German maltrematics journal. Tn 1933, Emmy; along with other Jewish faculty across Germany, were dismissed by the Nazi regime. Througtt the efforts of Wept, she obt-ained a vlsiting professorship at Bryn Mawr Corlege and sailed far the United States. She Anally had a respectable academic position but had little tirne to enijoy it, for she died suddenly in 1935 from an infection folowir-rgsurgery Mathematics had been her life-she had .few ather interests. She reminded peaple of Einstein in the purity of her devotion ta science and her Iack of interest in the usual conventions of dress and manners, She had marry students who took advantage of her freely offered matherrraticaE talents, She was even giving 1"Urtiveprivate instruction to a young Nazi storm trooper at the tirne of her dismissal as a few from CGettingen. Her n ~ h e w reported her saying that mathematics should be done 'Tor the fun and intellectual interest of it," He surmised that "if she knew how useful her mathematics had become today, she would probably turn over in her grave.'"^^ a notice sf her death in The New Vark Times, Einstein eulogized her as ""re most significant creative mathematical genius t h w far produced since the hiy;tler educalion of women began" (McGrayne 1998,881,

Questfor the Theory of Everything The spirit of Pythagoras is very much alive in modern string theories, Taking the ultimate constittxents of the universe to be tiny elastic bands of energpstring ttrearists bid us see all of naturt: as ""mil-roredin a simple way in bits and pieces of mathematics" " a ~ e s and Brown 1988, 165). Many physicists art; excited by the idea ofa theory that puqarts to give a unified descriptiorl of a11 the forces of nature, space, and time, and all the properties of the fundamental particles. Slring dleory originated in an atlempt to understand the strong nuclear brce that governs interactions of such Lrctdrorls as protons and neutrons. That effort didn't work, but the mathematics (which traces back to work of Emmy Noether on symmetries and algebraic invariants) turned sut to be useh1 in describing graviq, By substitutirlg strings for dimensionless points af space, string theory proposes to solve what physicists commonly refer ta as the fundamental problem of modern physics: reconciling @wily, as described in general relativity theory, with quantum theory. frr the standard theories, graiaty doesn't fit consistemly with the other fundamental forces, Experiments show gravity does affect e l e m e n t q parricles, yet atCempts to apply quantum and relativity theory together leads to intractable infinities in the calculations,

64 1 In&kk?ctual Curi~siq: Mathematical Paterns in Nature

Strings are pictured as minute one-dimensional loops (wically one thousandth of one billionth of one billionth of the size of an atomic nucleus) with hidden mathematical dimensions of space curled up in them, In early theories of stxperstrings-which ehibit ""super" "metry--the magic number was memy-six dinlensions (twenty-Eour of space plus sne sf time plus one for the strings)*Recently nine spatial dimensions plus time appear to suffice, Strings are so cdled because they have some analogy with a violin string, where the harmonics carrespond to vibrations at many different frequencies, depending s n the tension. The diff"erent"harmonics" of just one kind of string executing many kinds of mefion are supposed to correspond ta different element;iry pmicles, such as electrons, photons, and gravitons. For his work on the "monstrous moonshine" conjecture, which connects numbers in mathematical group theory with symmetries in string theory, Ricftard Borcherds won the highest award in mathematics, a Fields Medal, This medat appropriately bears the inscription "to trarlscend human limitaions and grasp the universe" G i b s 1998,40). A ceaain elliptic modular function, the j function, relates the shapes of certain tori-""srhces sf doughnuts that are created by curling up the complex planew-to cornpiex numbers, Numbers in a series expansion of the j function correspond quire surprisingly to the character table of the "Monster simple group,'" number of mathematicians have spent years trying to unravel the ""mysteries of the Monster group," This group should represent the spmnletries of some geometrical object, which must be "exceedingly symmetrical" since the group has 808,017,424,794,512,875f886,459f9O41961,71O,75730O5,754,3683OOO~~~O,0O~

elernents (Gibbs 1998, 41). (One begins to see why it's dubbed the "Monster,'" Boreherds showed that the Monster is the group of all the symmetries of a string theory with twenty-six dimensions, Just as a cube has ~ e n q - f o u spmmetries r ( v v to ~ turn it so that it looks the same), and a dodecahedron has sixty symmetries, a folded doughnut in twenty-six dimensions has 808,017. . . symmetries. String t h e w is quite prelenfious as a theory of everything in the physical world, Tt purports to reduce the fundamental .forces-gravity; electromagnetic, and weak arrd strong xatlclear fazes-along with all the properties of the whole zoo of elementary particles of nuclear physics to aspects sf a single kind sf string, Not a11 physicists believe that string theory will ever be an acceptable physical theory, Xtichard Feynman, himself a revotutiona~theorist vvho did not shy from consrruing positrons as electrons m o ~ n backward g in time, commented: ""Xhink all this superstring stuff is crazy'7Davies and Brown 1988, 194) But many physicists feel the allure of a theory that would fulfil1 the long-standing vision sf finding the ultimate mathematical principles

Intellecluak Curiosl'q;Mathematical Parrerns in Nature I 65

underlying nature, John Schwarz, one of the pioneer string theorists, expressed what rrzaivates physicists to spend years vvorking out the wry complex madeis of string theory: "R's etear that there is ai very deep and beautiful mathematicd structure that under-lies all the startling results we are finding, and that some very elegant and profound principle is there to be found" "oavies and Brown 1988,831.

Suggestions for Further Reading Cahen, 1, B, 2985. The Birth o f a New Physics. Csle, K. C. 1998, The If~I'uerseand the Dacup: Tlze Mathematics of Truth and

Beau tJi.

DaGes, P. C. W., a n d f . Brown, 1988. Superstrings:A Tlzeary ofEue21ythingH Creene, B, R, E999, The Elegant Universe:Supers~ings,Hidden Dimensions, and the Quwtfor the U l ~ ~ n a Tkeofy, tc? Koestler,A. 1960. The Wat.e'rshed:A Biograpizy of jolzcln~esKey ler, Koyre, A, 197%The Astronomical Revotut.ion. McGrc-iyne, S. B, 1998, Mbel Prize Women in Science: Tlzeir Lives, Sewggles, and Memento us t)i;scoveries. Westfdl, R. S. 1980. Never at Rest: A Biography ofIsclac M e w f ~ ~ % . meerem; L. E E962, losz'ahWillard Gibbs, White, M., and f. Gribbin, 1994. Einstein: A in Science,

Intellectual Curiosity: Experiment

Scientific curiosify may take the Eorm of an interest in mechanisms, in the ways that things are canstrucred and operate. This irzterest is typically expressed in the Aesil-e to discaver canstituents and causes. The abilities to understand and explain and to intervene and control, though often connected, do not always come together: Some scientists are supreme theareticians but are notoriously inept at any practical craft, including the experimental testing of their own theories; others have a strong practicttl bent but only a modest grasp of theory Mast scientists combine these talents to varying degrees, In this chapter we shall look first at sorne scientists who supported their theoretical contribulions by carem experimen@tian and then at some who were better at experimenting than theorizing, who primarily enjoyed the exercise of their practical skiEl.

5.1 Theoretical Insight and Experimental Skill So far we have looked at scientists who were primarily theoreticians, Although Newon did some experiments (with prisms, on the refraction of li&t), Kepler and Einstein did not, The solar system and the space-time structure of the entire universe do not lend themselves to human experimentation, of course, but the truth is that Kepler and Einsteir~were not great scientific observers; they depended an. the skill of others far the verification of their theories, Like Newon, they were supreme theoretical physicists. We will now aamine sorne cases where theory and experiment, intellectual curiosity and practical skill, were closely bound together,

Mendel%Lonely Breakthrough in Genetics A goad example af the ideal of the pure (and in this case, literally monastic) scientist is Austrian monk Cregor Jahann Mendel (1822-

1884). He has become famolxs-but only after his death-as the father of the twentieth-century science of genetics, In 1900 his work wns rediscovered, and elrentualty his ideas were integrated with Darwin's theory of natural selection to form evolutionary theoxly as it's commonly understood today Mendel's pioneering experiments and theories on the basis af heredity also laid the foundation b r the investigation in the 1950s af the biochemicd basis of genetics in the structure of the DNA molecule (see 6. l). Born into a poor peasant family in M o r a ~ a(then part of the AustroHungarian Empire, now part of the Czech Republic), Mendel had to struggle to get a proper education. Me entered the Arxgustinian monastery at Bmnn at the age of twenty-one. This was a center of learning in mathematics, music, and natural science at the time, and Mendel found opportunity there to pursue his scientific interests, However, he mice failed a qualifying exam for a high school readling license (he passed the part on. physical sciences, but ironically enough, he -failed in natttral history!), From early on, he showed a fondness for growing things and a great ctrriosiv about the mysteries of life. We asked, Wust we throw up our hands and say that nature in this basic life process is completely irrationd or incamprehensible?'-efore making his discoveries about heredity he recoded his convictiun that "there must be definite laws of heredity" "ootin 1959, J 16). Animal breeding was forbidden by Mendel's mligious superiors because it seemed to t h m to involve playing with sex, but there was a tradition aE plant breeding in the monastery garden; the reproduction af plants was apparently considered irlnocmt enough! A modest garden strip 120 by 20 feet in size was his lat>oratory, His simple equipment, which consisted of forceps, a camel hair brush, and small paper bags to confine pollen, contrasts sharply with the expensive and technically complex experimentation of today. Mendel's meticufous research required great perseverance. He tailed for seven years, crass-breeding some 30,000 individual pea plants, His published papers show that he had thought deeply beforehand about what he was trying to prove in his painstaking experiments, He had formulated the hpothesis that the various characteristics of sexually reproducing organisms were passed on Erorrr one generation to the next by random combinations of certain distinct -factors (later identified as genes) supplied by the pamnts of each individual. Because of his mathematical training he was able to formulate an algebraic modet of all the passible combinations of genes, which enhanced cEear understanding. It also allowed testable quantitative predictions for the proportions of various characterisrics in successive generations, By combining all this with an innovative application of simple statistics, Mendel pio-

neered the application of mathematics to biolow, which has greatly advanced biologic$ theory i n the mentieth cerztury Though interested in the general question of heredity sf l i ~ n organg isms, Mendel shrewdly set out ta test it ehaustively on one particular species of plant. We choose the pea because it exllibited easily distinguished variations in size, color, and shape sf seeds. Had he started with other plants, it is likely that the complexities of inheritance, which were only much later explained, w u l d have led him into confusion, Using statistical analysis sf large numbers af various ""crossings" "reedings of two inditriduals with different chamcteristics-nouv standard methadology, but then quite new), MerrdeI achieved decisive verification of his hypotheses. In retrospect, he can perhaps be excused for having presented his data in somewhat: neater ratios than are likety to have actually occurred, Staisician R. A. Fisher (L890--1962f argued that "the data of most, if not all of the experiments have been falsified so as to agree clasely with Mendel's expectations" Fisher 1936, 115).There are always temptations for scientists to interpret raw statistical data in the light of their theoretical hpotheses. Tn some ways, Mendel3 schielrement might not seem so impressive a revolution in understanding. Many before him had done cross-breeding experiments, and some had speculated as to how herediv works. But it was he who put together the theoretical .foundations far genetics by deriGng the mathematical ~lationshipsof the patterns of inheritance in a simple model of hypothesized causal factors (the genes). He thus followed the approach that had already been so successful in physics and astronomy in seeking to understand how n ~ u r works; e namely, to look for mathelnatical parterns, hypothesize causes, and then test observational predictions of the model, Mendel presented his results in a lecttxre to the Brunn Society for Study of Natural Science, His paper "Eqerirnents on Plant-Hyhridization" did nst excite much enthusiasm in the audience, and neither did its publicaion in the Proceedings of %heMoraviC%nS~eIet~r atlracl: much attention. He sent copies to various scientific societies and universities-and to Darwin, whose works he had studied carehlly. If he read Mendelk paper at all, Darwin failed to appreciate its importance for evolutionary Iheory Mendel was to publish only one more scientific paper, but he tried to interest Karf Naegeli (1817-1891), a prominent Swiss botanist of the time, who also failed ta realize the fundamental significance of his work. In subsequent years, he made krther experiments with other species of plants and with bees, but he encountered technical difficulties that could not be overcome. He might have gotten the attention of the scientific community if he had been in claser contact with

other biologists, but such interchange is just what he lacked, So he died unrecognized as the brilliant scientist he was, As we said before, Mendel was a scientist who lived a literally rather than metaphorically, monastic existence, The monastery served for him rather like a university does for today's scientisrs, giving financial security fat a modest level], experimental facilities, and some time t s pursue research. Marriage was not an option, of course (in fact, many of the early great scientists were single; perllaps some ambitious scierrtists today, facing demands an their time by their families, might occasionally envy Mendel his freedom in that respect!), Hawever; after being elected abbst of the monastery in 1868, his adsnini~rativeduties restricted his scientific reseaxh, Me became something of a man of affairs, as government counselor and bank chairman, Though generally described as a cheerful, kindly; and modest person, he became involved in disputes concerning tax assessment on the monasteries. Did Mendel do his research simply for the satisfaction of finding out the truth [or for the gXory of Cod?),~ t h o l xany t desire for recognition or f a m ? He must have derived considerable fulfillrnent from doing his work, enough to see him through such a long, tedious period af arganizing and recording pea plants, But his letters to Naegeli show him wanting to communicate his scientific ideas and receive expert comment on them., He expressed hope that others would take his theories seriously enougX_rto test rhem on other species, However indifferent he may have been to personal fame, he did recognize the inherently collaborarive nature af science, and he must surely have been deeplly disappointed by how little recognition his beautiful work in genetics receked.

Madame Cun'e"set:erml'ned Pursuit of Radioactivity Let US now consider the fascinating story of Marie SHodowska, better known as Madame Curie (1867-19341, the first w m a n to become a topranking scientist and the first person to win a Nobel Prize twice, She provides another example of selfless devotion. to pure scientific research, filefed by a steely determinar-ion that sustained her through a hard life. Marie was barn in the pogion of Poland repressively ruled by Russia throughout the nineteenth century. Fascinated by her father's physics apparatus, she felt d r a m to science in her school days but had no hope of a scientific education in the Warsaw of those times. She did attend some classes at the informal "Floating ~iversity,'khiel-toperated clandestinely despite the restrictions imposed by the Russian rule of that part of Poland, but her only pmspect for s~ienrifictraining vvas to save

enough money to go abroad. This she managecl to accomplish by persuadirrg her elder sister Bronya to go to medical school in Paris, financed by Marie" s a ~ n g from s warking as a governess,The agreement was that when Bronya started earning money, she would pay for Marie to come to France to sfudy So for sevewl years, Marie had the lowly jab of watehing over the children af aristocratic families in Poland, using her spare time to pore over whatwer scientific books she could find. m e n at last her chance came in 11892 to go to Paris and enrol1 in the Sorbanne, she seized it with enthusiasm. Studying with passionate devaiorr, stretching her meager resource.; bp living in unheated garrets, hardly bothering to eat, sometimes fainting from hunger and exhaustion-this era of her life may seem like the operatic clich6 of the bohernian student. But Marie Sklodowska was no caricature; she was a remarkable young Polish woman with no time for relaxation or love affairs, de~rmirledto learn all dre could about chemistry and physics and possessed of an ambition to contribute to scientific knowledge, Aft-er completing her bachelor's degree in physics with highest honors ir-r 1893and receiving a master's degree in mathematics in 11894, she met French physicist Pierre Curie, whose dedication to science was as austere and selfless as her a m . Their common inteleetuat. devotion led to friendship, which rapidly became love, and they were married in 1895, But Marie allowed neither motherhood (she had two daughters, one af whom also wan a Nobel Prize) nor uncertain health to interrupt her scientific career, Nurses were engaged l'or the children, and the daily work at the laboratory resumed. Stle chose as the topic Tor her doctoral research the mysterious radiation, emitted by salts of uraniun~,rece~~tly discovered by Henri Becquere1 (1852-1908). m a t was the nature af such radiation? Wait was its cause? Marie found that the strength of the mdiation was proportional to the amount of uranium under examir-rationand, moreover, that it was independent of light, temperature, ar chemical combination; she concluded that radiation must be an atomic phenomenon. If ss, could it not appear in other substances? She tested all the known elements and found that tharium emitted similar radiation, which she named radiouctiui~She then proceeded to examine all available ores and eventually found a strong source of radiation irz certain samples of pitdrblende that was much more powerhl than uranium, She first thought this had to be due to experimental error; but after measuring and remeasuring, she suspected drat there mi#t be a hitherto unkrlown but strongly radioactive element present in pitchblende in very small quantities. Her research was mported in a gaper published in 1898, but to cetnvir-rcethe scientific world, it was necessary to prepare a pure sampire af the hypothetical new substance,

Pierre was doing research an crymls at the time, having earlier discovered piezoelectricity (which results when pressure is applied to certain cvstals), But Ire put aside his awn research to join in his wife's work. Their marriage became a collaboration in a single research project, which corltinued as long as they both lived. The Curies did not have anything like the facilities that scientists expect nswadays. Because sf his unworldliness and lack of pmfessional influence, Pierre had no laboratory he could call his own except a damp, cold shed. (It is said that once when Pierre was told that the French government was considering him far inclusion in the Legion of Ilonor; he responded that he would prefer a decent laboratory!) In this shabby workshop, amid noxious Eumes, they tuok on the long arrd ardluuus process of isolating two new elements: first polonium (named after Marie's native land) and finally radium, as the powerfully mdiaactive substance was called. For nearly four years, Marie worked daily on the repetitive processes af purifying tons sf pitchblende under canditians later realized to involve exposure to dangerous levels of radioactivity. The raw materials and equipment had to be paid for at the Curies' own expense. Besides solving the intelXectuail problem sf d e ~ s i n gmethods to extract the elements from the raw ore, they had ta contend with the physical drudgery of canying them out. Marie chose to concentmte on the Icllter, as if the traditional marital division af labor gave her the task of ""c&ery;" it seems that Pierre wolxld gXadly have postponed the pmject, but Marie, having staged the job, was determined to firlislr it despite the inadequacy af their equipment, Her unrelenting commitment carried them through to a successful conclusion. A stream of publications about radioactivily followed, and the couple suddenly found themselves at the center af world scientific attention, Hansrs followed-they received the Royal Society" Davy Medal and, with Becquerel, were awarded the Nobet Prize Eor physics in 1903, The money from the latter rescued the Curies Eram the edge of poverty. Pierre died in a street accident in 1906 [it seems likely that deleterious effects of their experimental work may hwe reduced his alertness). Here was another occasion on which only Marie's intense commitment to seience kept her going, She was offered the Chair af Physics at the Sorbsnne, which Pierre had held. Seelll~gherself to resume her scientific vocation, she faced a curious crawd eager to hear the first woman to teach at thar pwstigious instituiorz, arrd she deliber~elytook up the subjea at the very point where her late husband had left it in his last lecture. Further research led to her second Nabel Prize in chemistry in 1911.

By the 1 9 2 0 her ~ ~ &me m s worldwide, especialfy as the first w m a n scientist of note. But honors and adulation did not affect her. She

could only be persuaded to undertake tours of the United States, for example, if &ere would be some gain far her researc.fr center, the Curie Institute, as in 192J when she was presented with a gram of radium by President Warren Hading as a gift from American women. The words she wrote concerning the need for scientific scholarships apply to her own career: What is socieqk interest? Should it not favor the development of scientific vocations? Is it, then, rich enough t s sacrifice those which are offered? I believe, rathex; that the collection af aptitudes required for a genuine scientific vacation is an infinitely precious and delicate thing, a rare treasure which it is crimind and absurd t s lose, and aver which we must watch with solicitude so as to give it evev chance af fruition, f6urie 1937,3401

A rare treasure indeed was the "collection of aptitudesF?hat this extraordinary woman presented to the world: resolute determination to pursue her scientific curiosity, a fixity of purpose undaunted by the difficulties of gening an education, of petverq of arduous labor, and of motherhood or widowhood., Einstein gave a moving portrait of what made M a d m e Curie so outstanding: I came to admire her human grandeur to an ever growing degree. Her strength, her purify af will, her austerify towad herself, her otajecticrify;her: incorruptible judgment-alj these were af a kind seldom found joined in a single individual. She felt herself at every moment to be a servant of societ-y and her profound modesq never left any roam for complacency. . . . Once she had recognized a certain way as the right one, she pursued it ~ t h ~ u t compromise m d with extreme tenaciq, (1954, "77)

Raman"sesearcla ora. Cokzrs and Sounds in irnd,tGl Our third example of theoretical curiosity and experimental skill is Indian physicist Sir Chandrasekhara Venkata Raman (1888-1970), whose work on the scattering of light earned him the Nobel Prize for physics in 1930. This was one of the first cases of someone from outside Europe and the Urlited Slates making an internationally recognized contribution to science. Raman graduated in physics with highest honors from the University of Madras, but ill health made it impossible for hirn to travel ta Britain for postgraduate study The route to a scientific career being apparently closed to hirn, he entered the Indian civil s e r ~ e in, e the audits and ac-

counts division. He spent ten years in this well-rewarded profession, t;iking on increasing responsibilities, But during those years he somehow found the time to canduct research s n ~brations,sounds, and the theoxly of musical instruments at the Laborratally of the Indian Assaciatian Eor the Cultivatian of Science. PI-rysics must: have been the strongest love sf his life. His published research began to earn him a reputation as an important scientist, m e n the University of Calcutta offered him its Chair of Physics, Raman had no hesitation in acceptingt although he was theret>y gifing up a more ltxcraitive career in the civil serace-another case of scientific curiosity auttweighing more worldly motives, Raman's further research on acoustics led to international recognitian, and in 1921 he represented the University of Calcutta at a congress in Oxhrd and lectured to the Royal Society in liondon. impressed by the opalescent blue of the Mediterranean Sea on the voyage home, he looked for an explanation of such color eRects, He was able to show that light is scattered in a certain distinctive way by water malecruEes. The work for which he was awarded the Nobel Prize was his discovery of this new type of secondary radiation in light scattered by water and air. The shift of some sf the incident light toward longer wavelengrhs, due ta energy absorbed by the scmering molecules, is known as "the Raman effect.""Raman spectroscopy has become a widely used technique Ear investigating materiaiEs according to the light they scatter. Raman spectra proGde information both for fundamental research on molecular structure and far practical problems of chemical andysis that arise, for example, in the petroleum industry He was a ""ptre" sientist in that he applied himself to topics that had (at the tinle) no commercial, military, or medical relevance. The focus of his interests seems to have been influenced by Indian culture, Mrith its special appreciation of the beautiful. sounds of musical instruments and the bright colors of flowers, gems, and the sea. He was the first to study systematica-llythe calor sf Rowers with a spectroscope. In his Eater years he became interested in color perception and w o t e a book presenting his new theory sfthe subject. Raman had great influence in stimulating scientific research in India; indeed, he exercised a dominating kind of professional power in his courrtry He has been described as proud to the point of arrogance, but he was an excellent teacher who trained hrtxndreds of students. He once remarked that ""the principal function of the older generation of scientific men is to discover talent and genius in the younger generatiorr"' (Gillispie 1976, vol. 11, 2671. He founded the Indian Journal of Physics and the Indian k a d e m y of Sciences and also had a h m d in brtilding up most of the national scientific research olrganizations. India has since produced many distinwished scientists.

Barbara McCXintock (1902-1992) is best known for her discovery of "jrtmping genes," h r which she received the Nabel Prize irr physiolow or medicine in 1983,She p r o ~ d e as good example sf the Great Man conception af science-pro~ded, of course, that we read "man" to include all af humanity, The purity of her devotion to science has ramly been equaled, even amsng the classic great men sf science. Her Nobel Prize was one af the few in recent years awarded to just one indiGdua1. The Nobel Committee caHed her work ""one of the two great discoveries of our rimes in genetics." [The ather, of course, is the structure sf DNA.) A biography focusing an McClintock"~life outside science would be very short, W e n Evelyn Fox Keller approached her in 1978 at her labarratol-y at Cold Spring Harbor with her project to wite a biography, MCClinrack characteristically dismissed the idea, Who would be interested? Ketter only persuaded her to cooperate by pointing out that ""hr story was impartant precisely because it was so unconventional" "(2983, 13. kller caplures ssrnethirlg sf her essence in the title of her itefinitivc.biography: A Feelingfor the Organism. Little in McCXintoek"s backgrorxnd indicated she w u l d devote her life ro scientific research, Her Eamily did notice that from early childhood she was ""dfferent,'"he herself said that ""Tdidn? belong to that family, but I'm gglad f was in it, I was an odd member'"MeGrayrre 1998, 43). From early childhood she exhibited traits that marked her career as a scientist: stubborn determination and independence of mind., She decided that she must gel to college at a time not many women did. In 1919, she enrulled in Cornell Universify, choosirrg the College sf Agriculture, where the tuition was free. She never planned to have a scientific career but drififted into science because she was "just having a mamelous rime" "udying it. She went on to get a Pb,D. in 1927 and was appointed an instructor in Cornell's botany department. Research in Mendelian genetics in the 1920s focused an two organisms: fruit flies (Dm~~lphila) in T. H. Morgan's lab at Columbia Uniwrsity and corn (or maize) at Cornell, Much research was directed to the chromosomes that carried the genes, postrllaed as factors a s s a c i ~ dwith heritable traits, Using new staining techniques for microscopic studies, McClintock learned to recognize various katures of the indi~duat, chromosomes of corn, Her scientific work became her life, She never married and engaged in few activities outside her lab. Early in her career, McClintock was admired for her experimental skills and her intelligence. In 1932, she and her assistant Harriet Creighmn published a paper describing one of the landmark experiments of modern biology. it connected exchange af genetic inhrmai-

tion with exchange of chromosomal material in corn. McCiIintock managed to scoop Curt Stern in Germany, who found similar results li~lking genes and chromosomes in DI-ssophilla, Morgan hastened the publication of MeClintock's paper because ""Xhought it was about time that corn got a chance to beat Drosophila" [Keller l983,59). Today it is hard to imagine that it took so long to connect Mendelk hypothetical "factors" "th. actual structures on the chromosomes viewed in cells under the microscope. Although MeClintock was strongly supported by some prominent geneticists who appreciated her research talents, many of her colleawes considered her a maverick with wild ideas. Her papers were often not easy to understand-one had to be rather nimble of mind to follow the complex chain of her arguments. She continued to wark with methods of Mendelian genetics when molecular genetics came to dominate the field with the discovery of the DNA structure of genes. Her ideas, however, actually painted to mechanisms af DNA that were anly much later noted by molecular geneticists, She was a respected member of the community of geneticists, but for much of her career she was left in more or less benign neglect* After depending on year-to-year fel~wships-and one not-so-pleasant position at the Universiv of Missouri-she findly found a nicbe in 1941 at Cold Spring Harbor laboratory on Long Island, Newbrk, She remained there far the next fifty years, working on the genetics of corn. Having noticed unusual varicolored spots on a parricular plant, she began a chain of reasoning about the mechanisms that firaalty led her to the concept of regwlarion and control In the operaion of genes, In 1948, McCIintock coined the term "transposition" to describe how an element in a chrsmosome is released from its original position and inserted into a new position. Transposition of genes explained many unexpected patterns of heredity McClintock's wark was not well receixd because it went counter to the assumption of the time that the gene components of chromosomes were essentially stable, It wasn? until the 1970s, when it became possible to study genes an a maleculatr, not just cellular, level that the significance of her work on self-organization of DNA was appli-eciated by the scientific communiw The details of bow DNA operates in reproduction and expression af traits are complex, so much so that other geneticists had sarne dificrrlty Eollo~ngher arguments. Her ideas provide a beginning in explaining the long-neglected question of how identical cells take a n specialized functions in the developing embryo as skin, bone, nerves, arrd so on, when all cells contain the same sets of genes in the DNA. Her work may also shed light on the genetic mechanisms by which the diversity of species evolved.,

Happily McClintock lived long enough to experience some of the recognitiorl due her. When she was in her seventies, she received numerous awards, including the first MacArthur Foundation. .fellowship, This a w a d bmught her some plxblic attention-which only made her uncp.tmfartabfe. "'I don? like p u b f i c i ~at all," she said. "M1 I wmt to do is retire to a quiet place in the laboratorySFWutsideaf recognition af her work from the scientific community; she seems to have had not the slightest iwerest in fame. She shwed, for example, no interest in Keller's biography sf her life and work and never read the book, ""Eant nothing to do with a book about me," she said. She was recltxsive but not really a recluse. She worked alone because she found if mare eRective. She was s always in communication with cotleagues but shunned a c t i ~ t i e that would distract her from her research. McGtintock ehibited a number of the classic characteristics of great scientisls: intense concentration, attention to detail, parience in long hours sf painstaking work, and a love sf nature along with a driang curiosiq to discover the secrets ofrlmre. In the face of lack of tmderstandirlg of her work, she had the right smfTto persist in many years of Lonely labor, She was capable of total absorption in her work, as a rather incredible story thal she told KeUer illustraes: In her junior year at Gornell, after linisNng a find exam in a geology course, she couldn't hand in her blue book because she .forgot her name! She had became so absorbed in the exam that it took twenty minutes before she was able to write her name on it. (It would have been embarrassing to ask someone, she remarked.) She was unusual among recent scientists-and virtuaHy unique among women scientists-far the independence of her research h m government or corporate sponsors of big money projects. A variety af social pressures have inhibited women from doing leading research in science. One of the founders of modern physics, M m Planck, expressed the traditional view on women studflng science: "it cannot be emphasized enough that nature herself prescribed to the woman her frlnctiurl as mother and housewife, and that laws of nature cannot be ignored in any circumstances without grave danger" Quoted in McGrayne 1998, p, 431. Academic institutions have been particularly restrictive of women in science. Until recently, outside of women's colleges, women have been largely excluded from faculty positions, In 1921, Keller notes, anly one in a thousand faculty members in coed colleges arrd urrivel-sities were women and most of these were in home economics or physical education. W a t was true in McGlintock's early career is still largely true: Womm in science have effectively been limited to teaching in women's colleges, beirlg research assistants, or marrying a leading scienrist and helping him in his research, MeClintock was a rare exception, though it

wasnSteasy She knew what she wanted, to plxrsue science in the manner of the gfeat men resea~hers,and dre was quite kisty in maintaining her independence, Trusting her intuition to g~xideher in divining how natlxre works its wonders, she nevefiheless wiUin&Lysubmitled to the demand in science to rationally demanstrate nature's mechanisms. Her method of science was to hpothesize, unfettered by traditional lirnitaions on what is possible, but h e n to test her conjectures to see u\ihetfser they corresponded to the way nature actually works. Details af the appearance sf a particular stalk of corn or slight diifferences in the appeamnce of a chmmosorne under the microscope could set her off on an elaborate dlain of conjectures, Her focus an the intimate derails of individual organisms and her naturalist's feel for the interreIatedness af things served her welt in discoverfng mechanisms of hez.edi@ She showed a potentially mystical side ir-rsome of her remark an the sneness of nature, that we draw Une~between things and make subdi.l1.isians""bt they aren't real" KeEter 1983, 2041. But she disliked being called a "mystic". She just did not warn tn believe mphing dogmatical@before achieving a clear understanding. KefXer turned to quoting Einstein to express McClint~cklsmotivation in her scientific =search. She felt, in Einstein's words, a "'deep longing to understand even a faint refiexion sf the reason revealed in this worldp'' and she found immense pleasure in unraveling some sf the mysteries af life's forms, Einstein insisted that although reason and logic are indispensable in doing science, they are not sufficient. Scientific discovery requires, he declalred, ""ituition resting s n a sympathetic understanding" "of the order in nature, In science " h e daily effort comes from no deliberate intention or program, but straight from the heart" (quoted in KeIEer 1983,201). McGilintock often said that what she wanted most was to be free, free to pursue her research. She never retired, snly slowing down as she approached the age af ninety to eight- s r nine-hour days in the lab. Her reaction upon receiGng the Nobel Prize sums up her conception of a life ir-r science, She found it ""unfair to rewrd a person for having so much pleasure . . , it's such a pleasure to carry out an experiment, . , I"ve had such a good time, . . . I've had a very very satishng and interesting life" (Newsweek 28 October 1983).

5.2 Enjoyable Tinkering Scientific research is not commonly thought of as arr especiallyhedonistic pursuit, but some scientists actually enjoy the pmcess of experimentation in the laboriztory, perhaps even if no definite results are achieved. Indeed, experimentalists often take pride in the skillftxl execution sf

their craft. These days, we tend to think of scientific research as involving high-tech equipment such as ultracentrifuges or electron microscopes, multimillion-do1lar telescopes s r massive particle accelerators, with teams of specialist technicians to operate them. But until this century, m a v scientists, irr the tradition of Gaitiieo m d Newon, made their awn apparatus sut af""sring and sealing wax," as Lewis Carroll put it, Pride in experirxlentd craft was vigurollsh expressed by Eni;lish physit cist P: M. S. Blackerr (1897-1974) irt an essay entiCled ?;fat? C r ~ f@Experimental Physics, written in 1933, He wrote that a scientist must be "enougLr of a theorisr to Xinow what tzxyerirrlexrls are woah doing, and enouglrl of a craftsmm to be able to do dlemY"(quotedirr Crowher 1941, 514). A scientist must be able to blow glass, turn metal, do carpentry, take photographs, wire electric circuits, and be a master sf gadgets generally-and has to do such things most of the working day. Connecting this with what he supposed to be a national penchant fur pracricd hobbies, Blackett ventured the suggestion that English experimental physics "has derivecl s t ~ n g t hfrom the social tradition and moral principles w h i h led the growing middle class to spend the leisure of its prosperiry in the home rather than the cafe" (514)-a severe put-down far those unreliable continentals who wasted their time discussing ideas in cafes irrstead of getting on with real tasks in their garages and sheds! Bfackett s went on to write: ""X is the intimate relation between the a c t i ~ t i e of hand and mind which gives to the craft af the experimenter its peculiar charm. . . , His legitimate field of actiwity ranges frum carpentering ta mechanics; it is his jab both to make and to think and he can divide his time as he sees fit between both these pleasurable occupations" "(515). Blackeft himself was a dogged aperimenler who task some 20,000 photographs sf almost h d f a million alpha particle tracks in a cloud charnber, He managed to pick out eight tracks that sflwed collisions of an alpha particle and a nieogen molecule, which marked the first observation of a nuclear reaction. Scientist and statesman VVarren Weaver has described an early sign that he was a budding eqerimental scientist; at age seven it was "perfectly clear to [him]that taking things apart and finding out how they are constructed and how they work was exciting, stimulating, and tremendous fun" [CLave and Childers 11965,268.We will now look at t w examples of scientists far whom the pleasure of experimenting seems to have been almost as strong a motivation as curiosity about the results,

Priestley Amusing Himself with Gases Joseph P~iestley(1"T33-1804) was a poor English cleraman (a mitarian, dissenting from the dominant Anglicanism) who did important work in

the development of chemistry An arnatetxr scientist who loved to perform experiments, he had read books on chemistry and felt the urge to conduct his own research an gases, which was greatly helped by his living next door to a brewery As he mote; in his autobiography: T, at first, amused tnyself with tnaking experiments on the fixed air which T found ready-made in the process af fermentation. . . . W e n 1 began these experiments i knew very little af chemistry, . . . But 1 have often thau&t that, upon the whole, this cireu~rtstancewas no disadvantage t s me; as, in this situation, T was led to devise an apparatus and processes af my o m , adapted to my peculiar views; whereas, if I had been previously accustomed to the usud cherrtical processes, 1 shodd not have ss easily thought of any other, and ~ t h ~new u tmodes of operation 1 should hardly have discovered mything materidly new (quoted in H d e y 1964,131

He observed tbat a colodess gas given off by fernrentalon in the brewery extinwished burnirlg-chips he suspended over the vats, The gas was, ir-rfact, what we now b o w as carban dioxide. He bund that if could be used ta make an "exceedingly pleasant sparkling water," Riestley can thus be credited with discovering soda warer! (He wceived the Copley Medd from rhe Ro)ialSociew Eor this) In his homemade lab, he went on to isolate and study a variety sfgases, ixletuding ammania, But he is best known as one of those who contributed to the discovery of oxygen, The question "Who discovered axygen?" poses interesting historical and caxlceptuai issues, as Kuhxl (1962) has emphasized, Priestley is sometimes given the credit, since be was one of the first to coUect a relatively pure sample of oxWgen gas by heating mercury oxide. Happr-tning to have a candle at hand, he tried inserting it in the flask just to see what would happen, To his surprise, it trturrled brightly. He dubbed the gas '"ephlogisticated air," a description suggested by llle phlagismn theory af heat, which was cammanEy accepted at the time. Phlogiston was thought ta be a sttbaarrce given offwhen subsrances burned, arld plants were Ihought to remove phlogiston from the air, Phlogiston was also supposed to possess a mysterious property called negative weight, which explained the measurable gain in weight of things that had burned. But we now understand combustian as oxidatian-the addition af oxygen, xlat the subtraction of phisgistan, and we also know that plants give off oxygen. Everyone bad of course been b s e ~ h i n goxygen, but nobody distinguished it as a component of air. Priestley isolated a sample sf what we now know to be oxygen and noted some of its properties, but he viewed it through the eyes of a rniaaken theory, Priestley's French contemporary Antoine-laurent Lavsisier [see 8.1) has a stronger claim as the red discoverer of oxygen (which he named as such), since

he was the first to recognize that the gas was a chemicd element as now understood in standard chemisrry Because of his support .for the French revolution, Priestley aroused suspicion, even hatred, in the conservative England of his time, and a mob yelling "'No philosophers! Church and King Forever!" burned his chapel and home in 1"791, He moved to London but was shunned by members of the Royal Society becatxse of his mdical political Gews. He finally emigrated to the Urlited Scares in 1794. Berrjamitr FranWin, who had met Priestley earlier during a visit to England, we'lcsmed him and offered to get him a professorship at the Univemity of Pennsylvania, But Priestlq preferred to continue his private writing and research. W i l e overseas, he produced carbun monoxide by passing steam over burning charcoal (this ""iBammable air" was, however, conhsed at the time with hydrogen), He also made nitrous a i d e , which was later used as an anesthetic and called "laughing gas." But he did not call these gases by their modern names, .for he never accepted the revolution in chemical theory and nomenclature that Lavoisier initiated. Priesttey's skill and pleasure was apparently stranger in experimentirzg than theorizing.

Flem ing Playing Around with Germs and Molds Sir Alexander Fleming (f 881-1955) attained worldwide fame, though perhaps nett entirety deserved, as the discoverer etf penicillin, the first efh the crucial matd on axle of his ilabarafective antibiotic. The g r o ~ af tow plates was a matter of extraordinary luck, and the antibiotic potential of penicillin was developed not by him but by Moward Florey's Oxford team same twelve years later, However, without FXemingFsexperiments and sharp observations, the potential of the germ-killing mold mi&t Exever have been noticed.. Fleming worked in St. MaryFsHospital in London for his entire professional life, except for the years of World War X, which he spent trying (with litrte success) to treat hetrrible battle wounds in a makeshift hospital in France. His war experience showed him the need .for an antiseptic that would kill infectious bacteria ~ t l r o ualso t destroying the body's defensive white bIosd cells. Back in St. MaryFsafter the war, he made the first af his two impartant discoveries, He had devdoyed the habit, unlike his tidier colleagues, of keeping forty ol- more living cuitrrres going on his bench, which he would watch to see if anything unusual had grown. Once, when suffering from a cold, he cultured some mucus from his nose. He observed that after two weeks, the mucus seemed to be killing the bacteria irz its vicinity. Finding that saliva, tears, and the whites af eggs have a similar

effect, he inferred that some antibacterial agent was present in the fluids. Fleming repofled his work to the Royal Society in a paper errtitted "On a Remarkable Bacterialytic Element Faund in Tissues and Secretions.'?t turned out, however; that only certain rare 'bacteria are affected, so his discovery of the germ-killing substance, later isolated arld called lysozyma had no therapeutic applicatisn, fn I928, FEeming made the discovery that was eventually to raise him to dizzy heights of celebrity Me had continued to search fol- a germ killer, and axle day he noticed a clear patch in a culture aE inkctious staphylocaccus bacteria, He inferred that the bacteria bad been killed by some contamination, which he later traced ta the mold Penici"lEl"um rzo&&m. This mold secretes a liquid that Fleming named penicillin. Me published an account of his observations, but the scientific world paid little attention, FlemingS discovery depended in fact on a remarkable set of coincidences, Recent scientific detective work by Hare ( 1978) has suggested that this breakthmugtl involved even more luck than usually thought, According to Mare's analysis, the following combination of circumstances was needed for the clear patch to have delreloped in FEeming's culture: I, Flemir-rginsculated a plate with staphylococci, and the plate happened to get contaminated when a spore of a very rare strain af a cammorl mold Roaed into his lab, probably from a l& below, where another researcher was studying tropic& molds. (Flemingwas a gregarious character who liked to leave his door open sa that people would drop in*) 2, For some reason, Flemir-rgdid not warm the plate as usual.

3. He left the plate on his bench while he went on holiday,

4*During that time, cold weather was followed by a warm spell, alllowing first the penicilfisl producing mold arld then the bacteria ta grow. (It seems peniciHin is only effecfiw again@aetiwly dividirrg cells.) 5, W e n FXeming returned, he cast an eye over the plate, saw nothing unusual, and discarded it, but by chance the plate did nur: get vvashed. 6, Someone popped in for a chat, and Fleming, as was his wont, proceeded to show off the plates bing on his bench. '7, He happened ta pick up the plate in question and noticed samething very istteresting-germs had been killed in the region near the msld,

This may make it sound as if no credit at all is due to this eccentric Scotsman with filthy laboratory habits, who allowed his nose to drip inta his experiments, left unwashed dishes all over the place, and kept no proper recods of what he was doing! However; Flerning's lab notes show him to have been really quite methodical. He was aware of the subdety of the mix of factors involved in the growth sf bacteria and was constantly on the lookout for any departures from the norm. If he "flayed aroundP3yallowing a wide varieq of cultures to grow on his plates, this was deliberate policy-to see what might happen. The effects of that stray patch of rare rnold watxld probably not have been noriced by a less expert eqerimentalist and keen observer, Fleming is a good ijiustratiptn of the "principle of limited sloppiness" in experimentation first enunciated by the physicist-turned-geneticist Max DeZbrtlck (1986-1981): Be doppy enotxgh that unexpected things show up but not so sloppy that you can't analyze what happened and get the phenomena to repeat (cited in Root-Bernstein 1989,4121. But now we must ask this question: My, for the next twelve years (1928-19401, did Flerning not plxrsue the antibiotic potentid of penicilltr'n? There were technical difficulties in getting pure samples of the stuff in any qtxantity, but he could have gotten by with limited qtxantities and perfvmed tlrewpeutic trials on small anirnals such as mice. If he had, he might have succeeded in persuading biochemists to purif"y larger samples of penicillin, However; Fleming had some reason to think that it would be useless as an antibiotic or even as a local antiseptic, since it disappears from the blasdstream in about half an hour, So he abandoned the project and turned to other research, it was left ta others to dewlop penicillin as; the krnous antibiotic that has saved so many lives, a story we shall continue in 63, Many find it strange that Fleming should go down in histol-y as a hero of science, sirlce he seems to have Iacked the characteristics of industriousness and imagination usually associated with those who make great scientific discoveries. He was a relaxed character who would do his six hours a day in the lab and then repair to his convivial Chelsea cfub Eor the evenings; his weekends were spent at his country retreat* He was, however; a highly cornpeterat bacteriologist Lvllo literally made an art of his eqerimental technique and delighted in showing off the '"germ pictures" that he produced by subtly staining caXors into the cultures grown on his laboraory p l ~ e sHis , talents lay more in expclriment and observatian than in theory or practical application. For Fleming, the pleasures of doing laboratory work seem to have been at least as strong as theareticd curiosity or the desire to be medically useful; he was not driven to pursue penidllin's potential very resolutely. In the assessment of his biographer Gwyn Macfarlane, "Heming's level was indeed play. . . , 'Iplay

Intellectual Curl;osi@:Experiment I 83

with microbesLhis often repeated description of his work-was literally true. Most of his research was a game to him" (1984,263).The moral is that many different kinds of talent-and sometimes a large slice sf luck-can contriblxte to scientific success. Despite the great amount of good foflune and serendipity required Eor FZeming's discovery sf penicillin, the idea sf using rnolds to kill diseasecausing bacteria had been anticipated, English surgeon loseph Lister (1827-19121, who introduced antiseptic surgery, noted in 1871 that certain rnslds prevented the growth of bacteria. He made same experiments, but they didn? come to anything, Something closer to a real anticipation of Flemingk discovery was the work of French medical sudent Errrest Duchesne. He had b e n reading Pasteur and became curious about a ""sruggle for existenee'bmang microorganisms. He noticed that when a single spore of mold (kvhich just happened to be Penicillirsm glaucar?)fell on a damp piece of bread or other rotting food, it would grow but sametimes left some patches unrcsuched, He speculated that the maid might be kiled by bacteria, In the course of his research to test this hpothesis, he also il-rquiredwhether the reverse might holdcould bacteria be killed by the rnoldWe inoculated guinea pigs with virulent cultures of typhoid and then gave some of them a broth from the penicillirr mold. Those that received the mold recovered, he cfaimed, in contrast to those not treated, which died. Duct-tesne reported his research in a dissertation entitled "A Contribution to the Stlxdy of the Smggle for Exislence of Micro-organisms:Antagonism between Molds and Microbes." But his work was totally ignored and was not rediscovered till the 19700s. Should Buchesne be given credit for the discovery of penicilfir-r?m a t Flemir-rgdiscovered was a pa~ieularstrain [among several hundred in the genus Penl"eillium)that turned out to be unusually effective and well talerated by most people, In cases where there is no continuiv of earlier unrecognized work with later researc;hl the scierrtific cammurzity generaEly accords EittXe credit to the earlier work,

Suggestions for Further Reading Cuie, E, 1937. Madame Gurie. Gibbs, E W* 1965.Joseph Priestley: Adventures in Scielzce and Champion of[Pi.uth, Gillispie, C. 6. 1910-1980. Dictionary ofScient@c Biography KelXer, E. E 1983. A Feelingfor t k Organism: The Lqe alzd Work ofBarbara MCCli~"~tock. Mitefarlane, G, 1984.Alexander Flemipzg: The Man and the MytCz, McCrayne, S. B, 1998. Nobe1 Prize Women in Science: Their Lives, Struggles, and XM[omentousDiscoveries. Seh~field,R. E. 1966, A Sdentific Aut~biograpFzyoffmeph Priwtlex 1733-1 804, Saofin, W . 2959, Gregor IMendel: Father @t!ze Scietzce of-Genetics.

Scientific Reputation, Scientific Influence, and Public Fame

We will now examine some of the factors, apart from pure intellectual curiosity, that motivse scientists in their professional work, We will start in this chaper with two that can be described as in~ernatto the scientific profession: the desire for scientific reputation, that is, .for the respect of one" peers for the work one has done, and the ambition ta exercise influence on the dewlopment of science and the way it is practiced. We also consider here the related, but distinguishable, ambition to achieve fame in the eyes of the general public, Other factors that might be described as external to the scientific profession are examined in subsequent chapters.

6.1

Scientific Reputation

Ambition to gain a scientific reputation is not in itself an urlwortfly motive-indeed, it is an impoaant faclor in the progress of science. Scientific knowledge must be publicly communicated. The criterion far establishing the ~ a l i t yof a reported phenomenon is its observability by other people when the required conditions are reproduced. For a theory to be recognized as scientifically valid, the scientific community must be brought (by rational discussion) to agree that the theory provides the best available explanalion of the phenomenon in question. Thus, making a contribution to science requires having a claim recognized as valid by other scientists. Very occasionaHy, a scientist working in isolation may make a vital discovery Mendel is one of the rare eexamples of this sort, but he acquired from others his understanding of scientific method as well as some idea of what questions in biology were worth asking. No one, however brilliantly endowed, could work all that out from scratch, Our pli-esent conception of science and its methodology has been built up over the course of centuries by many minds. The great founders of modern physical science-Copernieus, KepXer, Galileo, and Newtan-

Scient@cReputation, Scientgc t;n@aence,and Public Fame I 85

were themselves edtxcated in the theories and methods of their pli-edecessors, If someone works without benefit of discussion with competent peers and thinks of herself as haGng made important discoveries, she will have to communicate these findings [if only to a later generation) through wiring. Perhaps such an isolated scientist could be confident enough ofthe wlidity of her results to feel personal satisfaction from the fact that she has discmred something; conceivably, she might also be so self-mxficient as not to care very much whether others recognized her work or not. Mendel appears to have satisfied this first condition but not the second, far he did publish papers, arld he sought feedback in his correspondence with Naegeli. Newton, as we shall see, often shied away from public discussion, while at other times he seems to have cared excessivef y for his own reputation. Isolation and self-sufficienq are of course extremely unlikely under present conditions of irrstant, around-Che-world electronic communisation. The normal context of present-day scientific research is a thorough preparation in the fundamentals of the subject, leading to familiarity with recent research in some specialized area, with rapid publication of any new results and almost immediate critical testing by relevant speciaflists all over the world, Those working at the frontier of a scientific field quickly get to know who is presently making the most important contributions, One special feature atlending scientific reputation, hwever, is characteristic of science as it has come to be pracriced-namely the grclat importance attached to pi-i~t-iv E'n disc~vetyThe first person to publish a result gains pmcticaXly all the credit, even if several others have been working on the same problem and reach similar conetusions independently, perhaps publishing them anly a short time later. It is a case aE "winner takes all": he or she who first ptxblishes a scientifically satisfactory account of X is rrsrlalIy h o r n for the rest etf history as the discoverer af X, Historians of science may later try ta set the record straight, pointing out cases of earlier discovery that did nett gain credit in the scientific literature. In fact, it is not always easy to say who really made a discovery. Sometimes there is an anticipation of a later theory that is not devefoped much at the time) such as Aristardlus of Sarnos [ca. 260 ux.) saying that the earth moves around the sun, thus .foreshadowingCoperrricus's hdioeentric hwothesis. Tardiness in publication. may allow the honor to pass to another [Joseph Henry is a case in point, as u\ie shall see later in this chapter.) Swedish chemist Karl Scheele separated oxygen a couple yeas before Priestley and Lavoisier-he called it "fire-air'Lbut failed to publish first. A correct theory may be rejected at the time) and if it is not pursued, it generally receives little ar no credit*A tragic case in point is

86 1 Scientgc RepuZall"an,Scientific Influence, and Public Fame

that of If. J, VVaterston, who worked out a fairly comprehensive kinetic theory of heat in an 1845 paper rejected by the two referees of the Royal Society as "mere nonsense," The potential value of the paper was noticed only as recently as 1892 by Lord John Kayleigh, long after Waterston had died and others had worked out the same ideas. Canversely, credit has always been given to Williarn Herschel .for the discovery af Uranus in 1781. But at least seventeen observations of the pianet had been recorded behre, though it was taken to be a star (Kuhn 1977,171). And Herschel himself first thought it was a camet until the Russian astronomer Anders Lexell (X"740-1x4) suggested that it was the seventh planet. A more recent example is the anticipation of Flesningb discovery of penicilirl, mentioned ir-r5.2, Ever since science got going in the seventeenth century, scientists have been avidly compering for priority in discavery sometimes breaking out into bitter disputes, as we shdE see. 111 this century, the prestige attached to Nobe'l Prizes has probably exacerbated this tendency The system of awar-ding these prizes [which are sometimes shared, but bemeen at most three persons) requires the judges ta make discriminations where it may be difficult ta do so with justice, This tends ta encottrage an attitude that Einstein dtsparagingly compared to the competitiveness of athletics (see 3.21, with scientists vying to display their prowess not just by wrestling with the secrets all nature but, as it were, with each other. Just as there is only one ~ n n e inr a mce, even if the margin of victory is only a hrrndretfth of a second, so it is with scientific priority as it has came to be interpreted and rewarded. Why shottld scientific recognition follow a "winner takes all" mle? Mmy practical decisions have to be of an dl-or-nothing type, for example, marriage, accepting a job, ar voting, In a scientific department, there may be only enough money for one posirion or one =search grant at a time, In such situations, choices may have &I be made based on the narrowest af differences. But it is not a b ~ o u that s in less immediately practical decisions, such as evaluating scientific contributions and reputations, we should expect there to be a single winner. Why place su much emphasis on being the jrst to do something?"The way the credit for discovery gets awarded in science does not follow our usual notion of just deserts. In a study of how priority has been awarded in biology, David Hull noted that "the usefulness af scientific patran saints is nat inRuenced very strongly by matters of intel.ilitectua1justice'" 61989, 124).The winning of prizes is not the primary incentive driving scie~ltists(or artists, musicians, and novelists), but it may speed up their work, exacerbate its competitive element, and channel it in certain directions. The warding of priority stricrly on the basis of publication seems to have developed as a way af getting the attention of the scientific cam-

Scient@cReputation, Scientgc t;n@aence,and Public Fame I 87

mnity. This functioxz was recognized by the pre-Darwinian biologist Jean-Baptiste de Lamarck (174418213):""Iis not enough to discover and prove a useful truth previously unknown , . it is necessary atso ta be able to propagae it and get it recognized" "ern Zaobogiml Philosopb 1809).Darwirr expressed a similar conception in discussing his o w lack of credit far an idea that German naturaiist Ernst Haeckel (1834-1919) stated in 1868: ""Ontogenesis. . . is a short and quick recapitulation of phylagenesis" [Hull 1989,124). Darwin sounded a bit disappointed that "no notice was taken'' ofthis idea as mentioned in his book The origin of Species, published in 1859, yet be conceded the point in scientific etiquette: "It is clear that I failed to impress my readers; and he who succeeds in doiirlg so deserves, in my opinion, all the credit" "899, 72). ks we note later on, this marks the chief reason why Darwin, rather than Alfi-ed Wallace, is acknowledged as the "father" of evolution by natural selection. Most scientists d s care deeply about their reputations among their scientific peers. A number of admirable qualities are needed to succeed in scientific work at the highest level-imagination, determinatisn, sufficient confidence in one's own ideas .for the effort ta validate them to seem worthhite, perseverance drmugh all manner of ctificrtlties @heoretical, experimental, financial, practical, and personal), and singleminded concentration on the jab (with consequent neglect of many other matters). But these can be associated with or turn into the less admirable qualities of owrconfidence, egotism, dogmatism, and a will to dominate and denigrate others. Care -Forreputation or h m e can become an unreasonable obsession, Let us now examine a number of cases to iZlusrate the varieties of pursuit of scientif c reputatisn, WRert: the story is unattractive, we tell it not to expose the failings of otherwise great indiviiduats but to show by example just how subtle is the mix of a scientist's motives and h w the balance can get upset,

Newton's Bitter Pn'ority Disputes Newon achieved a very high scientific reputation very quicHy. But despite being recognized for his great contributions, he b e c m e involved in a series of nasv quarrels with other scientists, disputirlg prioriq even when his own position was secure. It remains true that his work was driven primarily by the sheer desire far krlwledge arld understanding of the inner wol-kings of nature-which is the way we have portwed him in 4.1. Nevertheless, Newon presents us with an interesting and somewhat disturbing case of overconcern with replxtation. h a student at TTiniQ College, Cambridge, Newon rapidly developed his precociaus mathematical talent, impressing his tutors and making

88 1

Scientgc RepuZall"an,Scientific Influence, and Public Fame

himself master of most of the new mathematics and science of the seventeenth century. Me was soon elected a Fellow of TriniQ College and became Lucasian Prokssor of Mathematics at the early age af twentysix, From then on, he was assured the income and leistxre he needed to do the r e s e a ~ hthat was the abiding passion of Ns life. He pursued his studies with that single-minded determination that we have seen to be characteristic of the successful scientist, Nelivton readily achieved national and internationai recognition, 111 1672 he became a fellow of the Royal Society; and he Eater attained the very rare distinction af election as a foreign member to the French Academic. He remained at the forefront of research in mathematics and physics for the rest of his life, with his eminence recognized by the leading scholars in Europe, such as Christian Huygens and Gottfried Leibniz. Ne\ivrorrSslife was a story of great success in scientific achieve me^ and in recognition by the merrlbers of his profession--and toward the end af his life, even public fame, as we shall see in 6 3 , Yet Newan also revealed a troubled inner psychology in his disputes ~ t other h scientists. It is difficult to tlncaver his personal feelings, especially at this distance of time, but we can get some clues from the stmnge attitudes he displayed in contentious situations. New ideas in science are not always received with instant acclaim, especially when they come from young and so far unknown figures, Todq we are more used to the idea af scientific advances being frequenrly made, but in Newton's time even his majestic achievements faced a battle for acceptance. His reaction to scientific controversy seems to have veered from one extreme to another, In 1676, when he was pressed to reply to Linus, a Belgian scientist who had disputed some of his experimental resutrs with light, apparenrly wilhout h a ~ n tried g to reproduce them, Newon responded pee~shly:"H f get h e of Mr. LinusS business 1 will resolutely bid adieui to it eternaly, excepting what f do for my private satisfactiorr, or leave to come out after me; for T see a man must either resolve to put aut nothing new, or to become a slave to defend it'7Andrade 1954,64-65). This statement might express no more than passing exasperation with incompetent criticism. But in ~ e ofw Erclflher elridence to be presented in the pages that follow, it appears indicative of an aversion to getting invutved in any public discussion. It is as if Newon did not feel the need for others to check a n his work and was uncancerned with making a professional reputation, If so, he was a very unusual scientist indeed, Yet in other, more serious matlers of debate Newon went to the opposite extreme, getting provoked into disputations and long-fasting personal animosities that obsessed and blighted his last years, The first af Newton's notorious prioriq disputes was with Robert Hooke (1635-1"1"03), an experirnentalisf who made some wide-ranging

Scient@cReputation, Scientgc t;n@aence,and Public Fame I 89

contributions to early science, Hooke was appointed curator of the Royal Society, with dre duty "to hmish the Sociefy with three or four considerable experiments" at their weekly meetings. His treatise Micrographia of 1665, famous for rXle first description of cells, which Hooke observed in cork tissue, included results of marry experiments on light as well as a hypothesis about its vibratory nature. Hooke had a fertile mind, but he jumped from one topic to another ~ t l t o udewloping t any of them irr depth. Apparently jealous of the celebrity of N ~ o n ' prcvis austy mentioned work an Eight, Hooke accused him of plagiarizing his o ~ v ideas, n Nec~lonrepetred this drarge in a cmshing rehtation but then rehsed to give Hooke any credit wfratsoewr for what he had done, The practice of achowledgirlg the contributions of other scientists was not then. as standard as it is now, but Newton was unwilling to concede anything to Hooke, even when diplomacy might have suggested doing so, Reconciliation was atrempted by mutual kiends, but feeling ran high on both sides. Part of the blame .for the dissension belongs with the secretary of the Royal Society, who disliked Hooke and promoted discord between the two at every opportunity Nerrvfon became so disgusted by the whole affair that he resalved not to engage in any further carrespondence on scientific matters or to communicate his results to the Royal Society, That is why his Opticks was not published until 11704, after Hooke's death. Here is an extraordinary case af a scientist deliberately cutting himself off from communication-quite the opposite of Mendel (see 5. l),an isolated scientist yearnirrg .fur discussion of his work. Newtan was reluctant to make his work public and had to be persuaded into publishing his epoch-making Principirx. He had laid the mathematical Eourldations Tur this wsrk in earlier years but then put them aside to spend a decade in reclusive concentration an chemistry, alchemy, history, and theology*(He left behind some 650,000 words of writing on dchemy and wer a million on biblical and theological topics.) His mathematical genius was sparked into renewed activity by a problem put to him by Edmund Halley (after whom the comet is named), who asked how Keplerk laws of planetary motion could be derived .from the inverse square law of attraction. Newton applied his "method of fluxions" "he differential calculus that he invented) to the principles of dynamics to solve the problem. W e n publication aE Princiipia was at fast imminent, Newon was SO enraged by another claim to priorily by Elooke that he thwaterled to withdraw the crucial third volume, He was ready to mutilate his own magnum anus simply because a lesser man had unjustly slighted him, Hooke does seem to have anticipated the idea of deducing the elliptic plmelary orbits kom the inverse square law but he never pmperly developed it. At a meeting of the Royal Society in 1684, he claimed to have

90 1 Scientgc Repufatioliz,Scientific Influence, and Public Fame

a deduction of the orbits "but would conceal it for some time so that others, trying and failing might krzw h w to value it, when he should make it public" "aurrel et al. 29813,451, Hooke's reputed boasting whenever Newon diseovemd something that he had already discovered it must have been very irritating to the sensitive Newon. It was the actual derivation of Kepler's laws from the law of graiatation that was Newon's gl-eat achievement, AI1 of Halley's diplomacy was needed to persuade the enraged N ~ o tonlet the vvorld see his work after all. Another of Newon" quarrels became one of the mast famous of all scientific priority disputes, which was between NeMrton and Leibniz over their respective contributions to the inventiozz of calcdus, m indispensable tool in physics that today finds application in &most every scientific field, The dispute had its roots in Newon's early work, but it became a public, even international, cause c4t&brein the last period of his life, musing him to even greater fury than previous quarrels, Examination of the papers left by the two principals has shown that Newan did have priority of discovery, arriving at his "method of flmions'%y 1666, about ten years earlier than LeibnizPsindependent invention of differential cafculus. Bath men deserve immense credit, But they task very different attitudes towad their discoveries, Newon was secretive abolxt his mathematical work, not publishing anyehing important until 11704, when he was sixty-one,Leibniz, who needed to earn his iiing by his writing, published quicMy and later tried to get the u n d i ~ d e dcredit, despite the fact that he had had the benefit of some correspondence with Newon. Leibniz elren camptlained to the Royal Society about not being given proper recognition. trr 1712, a commitlee ofcbe sociev investigaed the dispute and reported in Neu\rton"s favor; It was only discovered m a y years later that Newon himself, as president of the society; had written part of the arronporlsb published report of the srtpposedly inzpaflial invesigatietn, Egged on by their supporkrs in each nation, neither of these great men was prepared ta share the fame,

Henry: Not Publishing in Ti~ne Foseph Henry (1797-1878) was the greatest American experimental scientist of the nineteenth century, but during his lifetime he was better known as an able administmtor of the Smithsonian Institution. He was in fact the first to hit on the principle of electromagnetic induction, but the great English experimentalist Michaet Faraday (1791-1867) made the same discovery a little later but published first and thus has been given the credit. Henry's background was rather similar to that of his more famous contemporary He came .from a poor .family; received little schooling,

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and went to work at an early age. 'Like Faraday, his p ~ e n t i a intefest l in science needed only a small spark to ignite it..At age skteen, so the story goes, while siting a relative's farm, he chased after a per: rabbit under a church and found his way inside through some loose Roorboards, Inside he found himself in the village library Remrnirrg there several times got him interested in b a s h . Later he came across a callection sf Lectures on Experimental PhiEosspl~~ Astr~nomj~ n Che~uzistry; d which awakened his scientific curiosity and inspired him to return to school. Me began experimenting with electromagnets in his spare time, eventually making one that could lift more than a ton of iron; he used his wifek silk petticoats .for insulation material. His invention of an electric relay was the principle behind f i e telegraph developed by Samuel Morse. In 1831,he built an electric motor powered by batteries, This motorpwhich he cansidered a ""philosophic toy," "came the basis for the gRat variety of electric devices in use today (Caulson, 1950, 70). Henry never tried to patent his inventions, as he believed that one should not profit from scientific: work. 1n 1842, he demonstrated in effect the transmission of radio waves a half cewury before German physicisr: Heinrich Hertz (185"11-1894),his report on this discovery showing that he understaod it as a wave phenomenon. ft was in 1830,however, that Henry made his greatest discovery Previaus investigators of electric phenomena were misled by the fact that a steady cument induces a steady magnc;tic field. Henry noticed that to induce a current, a ctlangirlg magnetic field is required. He formulatecJ the principle of induction that describes how an electric current in sne coil induces a current in another by means of il-s magnetic field. But his h e a v teachirrg load in mathematics and science at the a b a n y Academy and later at Rinceton didn't give him enough time to publish. right away. 1n the meantime, he read in a British journal that Faraday had made the key experiment-after Henry:,but beating him to publication. Though quite disappointed, he never contested Faraday." priority As he put it: "1 ought to have published but 1 had so little time, . . . 1 wanted to get out my resule in good hrm" (Codson, 1950,871. He was persuaded to write up his results anyway, including the principle sf selGinduction, for which he did have priority, One reason his work was not much E-eeagnized was that U.S. science did not have a very high reputation at the time, He did finally achieve same posthumous fame when the unit of indtxctance was labelied the "henry;'"

Darwin and Wallace:A Question of Priority Qne af the great scientific revalutions takes its name from Chartes Darwin (1809-18823, He was nst the first to propose evolution, but his volu-

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minous witing established the theory of evolution by n m r d selection as essential to the foundation of biological science thereafter. The beginning af the Darwinian revslution is dated .from the appearance sf me Origin @Species by Means ofNatural SeIectioa in 1859, DaMn had been developing his ideas ever since his eqedition around the world on the British naval surrregng ship the B e ~ g l e(see 8.1). Qn his return to England in 1836, he began keeping notebooks, working, as he remarked, ""on tme Baconian principles'3y collecting facts. Sparked by reacting a passage by English ecanomist Thomas Malrhus (l"TGCjilh334)s n population prwsttre leading to a struggle for existence, he hit on the main idea of his theory Me began work on a big "Species Book" that would dernonarate the workings of natural sefeaion irr giving rise to the diversiv of living nature with all its wanderhl adaptations. Darwin held off publishing his ideas on evolution for many years, pafllp Erorn fear of the public response-the rnafler was (and still is) intensely sensitive in, theology and was thought to be subversive in morals and politics, He shared with Newon a distaste for public cantroversy. Efuwever, his friend, pioneering geologist Charles well (1797-18-1, had warned him that his ideas might be anticipated and that he had better publish. Evolutionary notions were very much in the air in nine~enth-centuryEngland. The general idea of natural selection had already been proposed by severa1writers, but without being developed as a RIll-blown theory of wolution. Darwin confessed, "I rather hate the idea of writing for priority yet I ceaainfy should be vexed if any axle were to publish my doctrines before me" "usted in Trvine 1955, 98). He was moved to begin a skach of his theory but found it difficult to condense his whole line of argument. it took a letter in 1857 from anather biologist, Alfred Russel Wallaice (J823-19131, to stir him into action, WaHace had independently arrived at natural selection as a mechanism for evolution, Darwin was stunned, and he wrote to Lyell: Your words have come true with a vengeance. . . . I never saw a more striking coincidence; if Wdlace had my MS, sketch written out in 1842,he could not have made a better short abstract! . , , Please return me the MS., which he does not say be vvisbes me to publish, but 1 shail, of cause, at once write and offer ta send to any journal. So all my originality whatever it may amount to, wiJ1 be smashed, though tny book, if it will ever have any value, will not be deteriorated; as the Xabour consists in the application of the theory. [(Pwwin 1899,vsl. I, 473)

The idea of natural selection had occurred to Wallaice while he was on an expedition gathering specimens in Indonesia. He had read Darwin's

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Neagte Jorrraal:and had been pondering the question of transrllmariorz of species. During a bout of fever*"in a flash of insight" he hit upon the idea of natural selection, that the fittest would survive, Like Darwin, Wallace had been stim-ttlated by the population theories of Malthus, whose work he recalled having read twelve years earlier, He dashed out his ideas in the short letter that he sent to Darwin, with wham he had previously corresponded about evolution. Darwin must have been tempted to ignore Witlace or put him off while he rushed into print, but he was not up to doing so. The conscientious Darwin at one point elren considered tPvithdrawing in favor of mtlace, exclaiming that ""Xould far rather burn my whole book than that he or any orher man should rllink that I bad behaved in a paltry spirit" [Desmond and Moore 1991, 469). But he was not really ready to chuck twenty years of labor. He appealed to his friends bell and botanist Josegh Hooker [l81"71911), who were familiar with his w r k , to come up with an honorabte solution, They arranged for Darwin to present a summary of his work dong with Wa11aceS paper before the Linnaean Society in 1858. This solution to the problem uf credit for independent discovery has p r o ~ d e da model for Eater cases-which come up remarkably ofletl. W11y then do we now speak of DaMn's, not Wallace and DaMn's, theory of evolution? There are some subtle differences in their concepions of natural selection, but this is not the reasan .for Darwin having gained greeminenee, DariGn had thought of the idea before Wallace, but this alone, without p.cxblication, does not count for much in science. Surprisingly; the papers of 1858 did not arouse much interest. Only after the publicaron in the f b f l o ~ n gyear of The Origin ofspeeies, a large work with a mass of derailed evidence supporting the theory of evvlurion by natural seiection, did the public and the scientific community begin to gay attention. Wallace did some further work on evolution, but his retrea in later years from the idea drat natural selection could account for the human mind earned Darwin's scorn. Waltaee seemed quite content to let DariGn get the scientific credit, and in 1889, he even entitled his own pspular account of evolution Dclrwinism. About his own rote he g the means of inwrote Darwin, "PI1 the merit 1 claim is the h a ~ n been dttcing you to write and publish at once" "archant 1916, 1311. W e n CZrallace, like many in the Victorian Age, supported spiri~alismin attempts to communicate with the dead, he was sHghted by many in the scientific community. Darwin was distressed by this lapse into mysticism, but he nevertheless lobbied to ofjlairr a government pension for Wallace, who had to earn a meager living by grading examination papers. A petition finally was passed on ta Queen Victoria, who grarated Wallace a modest pension.

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WaBsxz: The Race 2.0 Crack the Code of Life

lfamesWatson, Francis Crick, and Maurice Wilkins shared the Nobe1 Prize in physiology in 1962 Car their "discoveries concerning the molecular structure of nuclear acids and its significance far information transfer in living malerid." The discovery of the helical strttctnre of DNA ranks as one of the greatest scientific breakthroughs of the twentieth cenmry, for it has resulted in our understanding the very code af life and was the beginning of the field of genetic engineering, which now promises-or threatens-to radically affect our lives. Their research showed that genes, the hereditary factors postulated almost a century earlier by Mendel, hnctioned by ai kind of chemical lock-and-key mechanism. Though everyone agrees on the momentous nature of the result, the process of the discovery itself has been clouded hy controversy Watson brought much criticism on himself by writing a remarkably frank aecolxnt of the process, which reveals the highly competitive nature of modern science. The Double H e l h (1968; reprint 1980) is one of the .few descriptisns from within of what it is Like to do scientific res e m h at llle cusing edge of howledge. Watson conveyed the intellectual fascination with a crucial problem, an excitement bordering on sbsession-though not excluding enjoyment of tennis, wine, and the company of the pretty gids in Cambridge (no a f t s t e ~monaaic scientist this!). He described the rivdries between different groups working on the problem; the frustration caused by adverse experimentd results, unreliable texts, and mcalcitrant lab equipment; worries about funding and aboul: his standing with the lab bass; and dimcult colleagues. Not surf)risingly;the book became a best-seller. Watson was a whiz kid h m Chicago who had entered college at fifteen m d earned a %.L), in genetics at Indiana Universiv by the age of twenty Postdoctaral fellowships enabled him to study at Copenhagen and then at Cambridge, England, from 1951 to 1953, iIi,some of the more staid British, he seemed like a brash, intellectualQ arrogant cowboy Mratson breezed in at a time when it was becoming clear that DNA (deovibonucleic acid) must somehow be involved in the transmission of genetic irrformation from one generation to the next irr every form of most ~ biologists had not expected that the mechalife. Before the 1 9 5 8 ~ nisms by which genes o y e m would be discwered soon. A few, hbowever, such as the charismatic Linus Paulirlg in California, were racing to make the breakthrough, realizing the possibility that unraveling the strucrttre of DNA might reveal how infgrmaion. is transmirted when cells replicate. In King's College, London, Maurice Wilkins and Rosalind

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Franklirl had been doing carefill experimental work on the X-ray difiaction patrerns from DNA molecules. There was at the time a certain informal ethic or etiquette in scientific reseazkr in Britain that those who had started m r k on a topic sholxld be allowed a rmsonabte chance to make progress, publish results, and get credit before others had a go at the problem, Watson, hawever, was not one ta be discourwd by the disapproval of Sir hwrence Brag, the distinguished director of Canzbrirtge's Cavendidl Laboratorgi who held oldfashioned, genteel views about his staff muscling in on other peoples' research topics. Aifter all, nobody could prevent him from thinking! Watson benefited from the eager collaboration of the slightly older but as-yet-Uestablished Francis Crick, a Eormer physicist whose flair for biochernicat theory was crucial in this and subsequent discoveries. But Mratson himself ob~ousiyhad both a nose for the deeply significant questions of genetics and a determination to pursue them despile admini~rative,financial, and personal obstacles. He displayed some shrewd deviousness (sometimes necessary for success in science, as elsewhere!) in bending the rules governing his postdoctoral fellwships so that he could concentrate on the DNA problem rather than the same-what different research for which he was suppasedly being paid, (He had applied for a National Science Foundation grant but was rejected, which perhaps says something about the unpredictable nature of important research,) Watson and Crick have been accused of unethically using the results of X-ray crystatlography painst&ingIy adlieved by Rosdind Frankth, to construct their made1 of DNA and thereby win the race far publication. Watsan indeed wrote in his book of sitting in the back of FranHin's semirlars in London to pick up the latest experimental evidence about DNB, without letting on t s her that he and Crick were also working on the problem, But at one stage he failed, in his youthful overconfidence, to take adequate notes of certain details that turned out to be important. In 1951,Mratsan attended a lecture in which Franklin inferred from her Xray photographs of DNA that the position of its phosphate grolxps were outside the helix. Watson and Crick had br t w years tried unsuccessfully to model DNA with these groups inside the helix, An announeement by the Cambridge pair that they had got a structrxre for DNA brought Wilkins and FranBin on the next train from London to inspect the model that Watson and Crick had painstakingly constructed. But the Larzdon pair were able to paint out mistakes straight away, Bragg then thought his uwrl opinion confirmed-the two young mavericks had been wasting their time, as well as triolating scientific etiquette, and he banned them from further work on the topic, [Crick was firmly ins m a e d to get back to his unfinished Ph.D.) But they could not be pre-

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wmed from talking to each other about the hot topic of DNA, and after another fiiieen rrr0nd.l~they came up widz the correct modet: a double helix, with the four kinds of nueteotide buitding blocks, The nucleatides differ in their nitrogenous bases: adenine (A), guanine (G), t h p i n e IT), and cylosine (Cf.The four bases bond in pairs, A to T, G to C, like rungs in a ladder. The next time Wilkins and Frankfin were invited to Cambridge ta irlspect a modet, it had been very thorortghly checked beforehand, and the experimentdists accepted ifs correctness. St-itofllythereafter in 1953, the historic brief paper was published in Nature, A Nobet Prize was awarded in 1962 to Watson, Crick, and Wilkins, Franklin had meanwhile died of cancer and so was not eligible according to the Piiobel rules, which do not permit posthumous awards, According to Crick's subsequent estimate, FrankXin and WiXkins would have shared a second prize if Franklin had lived. But the question of the retative contributions of the two pairs of scientists rernains controversial, not Ieast because it raises feminist issues. Anne Sayre set out to put the record straight in her study entitled RosaEE'nd Franklin and DIVA (19751, described on the cuver as "a vivid view of what it is like to be a gieed woman in an especialfy male prokssion." %yre concluded bluntly that "Rosatirrd has been robbed" (190), quoting from Robert Frost's poem 'Kitty H w k " : "'Of all crimes the worst I Is to steal the glory" She also compared the acknowledgment of a scientist%work as analogous to claiming parendzood for one$ children, Sayre sttggesed that a joint paper with Frankiin on the structure of DNA fairly representing the various contributions wauld have been more appropriate than h a ~ n Warson g and Crick hog the glory, as she put it. She also argued that the case set. a bad precedent; if competition in research is uncivilized and unrestrained, ""rerush to publish before someone else . , . is a rush in which poor work done in haste is encouraged" "995). Watson did present an unfiattering, even cruel, portrait of Rosalirld Franklin. in. The Double Helix. ""Rosy,"as he called her, was unkempt, bitchy and impossible to deal ~ t h - a t least, this was how she appeared to him at the time. Other men recalled FranMirl as being ""cffficult." Wilkins once remarked that she was "wry fierce, you know" (quoted in Bernstein 1978, 147.) Part of the pmbiem seems ta have been that she was the only woman in a male-dominated depaament, with a particuEarly strong prejudice in Britain against women going into science at all, VVomen were even denied access to the Staff Common Room in King's College, London, during that era. FmnMirz had an independent incame and, hence, the opportunity to do many other things with her life, but she deliberaely drose, against the advice of her hxnily, to dedicate herself to scientific research.

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Watson and Crick stole FranHin's crucial data in the sense that they l corzsent. Tfle question of whether Watson and Crick used it ~ r h o r rher violated scientific etiquette-by hiling to properly cite her contributions-is more complex. As ~ t most h scientific research, the discovery of the stmcture of DNA depended on many forenmners, including the work af Ewin Chargaff an nucleic acids. Linus Paufing's work in 1948 on the helical stmcture of the protein kernin proGded a basis for hypothesizing a similar strucmre for DNA. Wilkins had already tried a single-helix made1 bebre Franklin came to work at King3 College, Sayre claimed that it was FrankXin who initiated the attempts to demonstrate a helical structure usirrg X-raq. photographs. She and her assistarlt Raymond Gosling did continue vvork,sr;trted by Wilkins, that Watson and Crick later used to construct their modell. But there had already been a quarrel between Wilkins and FrankXin that resulted in a lack of communication between them, even though they worked in the same deparrment. Franuin and Gosling failed to publish any of their work on DNA stnxcture until 1953, treating it ""asprivale and personal data" "mnstein 1978, 154). Physicist and writer Jerenly Bernstein (1978) suggested that the one most hindered by this fact was Paulixlg, who had begun looking into the structure of DNA in 1952 but had only older, inferior X-ray data available to him. Franuin does appear to have abandoned her initial hpothesis af a helical structure for DNA in 1952, not coming back ta the correct conception until January 1953, after Watson and Crick had already cons m a e d their double-helk model. They did actually offer to collaborate with the King's College group at one point, but Franktin and Gosling were not interested. As for proper citation, Watson and Crick did& cite data at a11 in the paper in mture announcing their discovery-the data were later published by Wilkins and Franklirz. Watson and Crick did include in their paper a weak ackrto\ruledgxnerztof their debt, sayizlg- they had been "stintut&ed by a h w l e d g e of the general nature of the unpublished experimental results and ideas of Dr. M, H. E Wilkins, Dr. R. E. Franklin, and their co-workers at King" College" "atson 1980, 241). The greatest unfairness, Bernstein suggested, was that the London team was not informed of the use being made of their data. He ewed d. Warson and Crick" treatment of Rosatind FrankXin as simply common pmctice in science (note the assumption of ntrale gender): ''TO a working scientist, what has not been published must be assumed not to exist, Part of the jab of a serious scientist is to publish what he beleves in, ff he fails to do this and sonleefne later rediscovers his work, one may admire the first man far his ingenui-(y;but, in mast cases, he is aut of luck""(19n8,161). Even if this describes the usual ""ethics'kf scientific priority, it may not always represent just ice.

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The case af Rosalind Franklin not being given due credit for her work has been used as a paradigmatic exampie of sexist discrimination in mrite-dominated science. VVatson exhibited a great deal of stereotpical chauvinism in his description. of Franklin and in downplaying the importance of her data. Bt~tthe question of how her contribution to the discovery of the structure of DNA should have been credited is, as we have seen, rather campfex and involves more than gender-based discrimination, A rrather more straightfaward case of such discrimination can be found in the treatment ofiocelyn Bell in the discovery of the type of stars known as pulsars. Jocelyn Bell (later Dr. Burnell) became interested in astronomy as a child, After sttldyixag physics, she decided to work in radio astronomy Tor her doctorate because, in contrast to optical astronomy, you didnt have to stay up late at night to make observations. She joined an astronomy group led by Arttoszy Hewish at Cambridge, hgland, in 19135. tiewish had designed a telescope to study the effect &at the solar wirrd (particle radiation from the sun] had on a ""tinkling'ksf radio-wave emissions aE stars, The radio telescope swept the sky once every four days, producing hundreds of feet of charts, Bell was set to work distinguishing stellar sources of radio signals from earthly sources. In Qetober 1967, she noted a peculiar signal on a half-inch portion of a 400-Toot chart. She recalled having seen what she described as "a bit of scmff" on the chart in the same part of the sky some time earlier. Bell discussed the observations with E l e ~ s hand , they decided to study them further, For a time no more such bits of scruB appeared, and Hewish was about to dismiss them as background ""noise"ar recordings kart7 a Rare star. Then Bell found pulses coming in very regularly at 1.5 seconds apart-which suggested a human source, except that the pulses kept "star time'7a sidereal.day of twenty-three hours and fifty-six minutes, as opposed to twenty-four hours), That December, Bell was working one evening (despite her dislike of night worn on analyzing a chart. She saw more ""bts of scruff""in a part of the sky that was to be passed through again at 1n,M, The right stuff came througfl for five minutes: a train of pulses now 1.25 seconds apart. She left a note on this for Hewish and went on a vacation*With repeated aibsewatiotls af the unusual signals, Bell. and Hewish ""facetiouslyentertained" the idea that the source might be "Little Green Men" from some extraterrestrial civilization that was trying to communicate with us (Judson 1980,961. The Rrst pulsar radio source was actualfy referred to as LGM-k. From this data, Hewish finally conduded that they must be dealing with a rapidly mating star. He Labe'led it a ""puisating star," later shortened to pulsa;~:

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Many observers would have passed off the scruff as noise, since radio telescopes are very sensitiw to disurbmces from a number of sources, such as auto ignitions, (Had Bell not been analyzing the data by handthis is commonly done by c o m p a r today-she would probably not have noticed the pulsar emission at all,) Bell told the Sory of a radio astronomer who, several years before tine recognitian, af pulsar signals, had actually picked one up, He saw the pen jiggle but dismissed it as simply his equipment misbehaving. Me kicked the table, and the pen stopped jiggling. Bell, hawelrer, investigated the strange signals further, checking whether the apparent pattern of radiation correlated with any known sources. She could not find any correlation betmen the scruff and earthly disturbances, and the recordings did not at atl fit any known type af star radiation, Bell's data eventually led ta the discovery of pulsars, which are tiny neutron stars some ten mites in diameter but exmmdy dens E a pinhead may have a mass greater than a mi2pulsar material the size s lion tons, Pulsars send out a beam of radiation that appears to us somee neutron stars thing like the rotating bem of a lightbetuse. The e ~ s t e n c of had been postulated on theoretical gounds in the 1930s as the result sf a star undergoing gra~ralionalcollapse under caaixl conditions, h article describing the pulsar signals vvas publidled in Nature?, with Bell's name secand on the list of five authors. Hewish, along with Martin Ryle, who had designed the first radio telescope, ~ c e i v e dthe 19'14 Nobel Prize in physics for the discovery. A number of astronomers protested that Bell should have been included in the prize, since it was her persistence in f o l l o ~ n gup the anomalous mdiation data, albeit in a project d i ~ c t e dtowwcf rather diEfcrent problems, that led to the discovery Astronomer Fred Hoyle said the award was a ""sandal," noting that Bel's ""achievementcame from a willingness to contemplate as a serious possibiliv a phenomenon that all past experience suggested was impossible" "road and Wade 1982, 4131, Hewish responded patronizingly that "foceiyrtwas a jolly good girl, but she was just doing her job, She noticed this source was doing this thing, If she hadn't noticed it, it would have been negligent." How much the lack of recognition in this case was due to gender and how much to the common practice of scientific superiors t&ing credit far their assistants' contributions may be difficult to say It is also relevant that Bell" contribution was primarily at the observational level; thesretical ir-movarisntends ta carry greater prestige in science than observational skill. But this example supports the csnclusion that ""re supposed meritocra~yof science rests on a p m r stntcture, and those who hold the reins of power are also innuerrtial in controlling the allocatietn af rewards and credit'" (149).

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The power we are concerned with here is that exercised within the scientific pmfessions, usually as a result of special expertise, Many university scientists also have influential administrative positions as leaders of research teams, heads sf departments, chairs af research cauncits, and so on. Some may even get to the point where they cease to be active scientists, enjayirlg their power more than any research. There are also those who undertake administrative resgonsibiflities only from a reXuctant sense of duty-as well as those who do their very best to avoid them! We will examirle a variety of examples.

Newton5 Unscrupulous Use of Power Let us look at Tsaac Newan again, this time as an example of scientific reputation leading to power within the prokssion, To some extent, professional reputation of itself gives influence, since the higher the msyect for someone's scientirrc achievements, the more his views, conjectures, and opinions will be taken seriously But formal power, in the sense af holding institutional positions, does not necessarily or immediately foltaw. In N ~ o n ' case, s his secretive and pricHy n&ure probably discouraged his fellow scientists from entrusting him with office, At any rate, he did not become president of the Royal Society until 1"703,after his opponent Robert Hooke had died and long after his scienCific reputation was established. Newton then held the post until his death, ruling the society with great solernnit-yand dignity (and an iron hand), Newon's use of his exatred position in the scientific world is s h w n in another sf the great quarrels sf his life. This one involved John Flamsteed, first holder of the newly established position of astronomer royal, Having overcome many diEficulries in setting up the Greewich Observatory from scratch, Flamsteed's sptematic observational work haid produced a great catalog of the stars in the sky Disagreement with Newton first arose over a small paint: whelller two celestial appearances obserrred in 1680 were af different comets s r of the same sne twice. Newton eventually bad ta caneur with Flamsteed's view on this topic and mentioned the matter in his Prr:ncipia, but wirlzout, Flamsteed felt, giving due acknowledgment ta his work. Personal differences between the two then developed into a long battle for control over the publication of Flamsteedk observational data, wf~ichwere crucial to the verification of Newtonian theay. The details reflect little credit on the adversaries. Suffice it to say that matters came ta a stage where Newon used his influence at the royaI court: ta get an order requiring Flamsteed ta submit his material far editing and pubtication by a committee af the Royal Society,

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dominated bp Newon and his supporters, Flarnsteed had rhe fast laugtl, however; because after Queen h n e ' s death, he was abfe to r m r s e the situation, seizing and burning the undistributed copies of the edition thar he felt so misrepresented his life's work and arranging for repnblication in the hrrn he wanted (dbeit at his w n expense), Not many people were able to get the better of the imperious Newon, who by that time had added political influence to his almost godlike scientific status. No doufir: rhe story has its less dramatic counterparts irr many scientific departments and, indeed, in most human institutions. Xt is a theme so familiar as to be banal: Someone attains a pasition of influence, quite deservedly on llle basis of her performance, and then abuses her power to a lesser or greater extent. It is no surprise t h r examples should turn up in the practice of science, and it is only the more melodramatic eases that get public notice. The f o l l o ~ n gis a more recent example.

Burt's Megalomania Scientific fraud is a rare phenomenon-or so it has been assumed until recently (see Broad and Wade 1982). The way that scientific theories are tested tends to exeltxde it (see 1.1 and 3.1)-Valid experimental results should be reproducible, so false claims can usually be d e t e c ~ dby repeating the experiment. There is thus little prospect of getting away far very long with assertions one knows or suspects to be incorrect. Vet fraudulent claims have occasionaHy been made and accepted in science, and it is revealing to examine how this can happen* English psychologist Sir Cyril Burt (1883-197 1) is probably now fated to be more famous Eor his fudgirlg of data about the infrerilability of intelligence than far his positi-ve contributions to psychology; which were considerable. (During his lifetime, psycholow became established as an empirical science, and Burtk work did ntllilcfl to bring this about, at least in Britain.) But just as the study of abnormal or diseased organs can show something about the norrllal litnctioning of the body, so examinalion of cases of scientific fraud may reveal something of the maivations behind scientific work generally Probably the strangest influence on Brxrt's approach to psychology was the work of Francis Gafron (Darwin" cousin) on individual differences and heredity. In his early years, Burt devised practical tests of reasoning ability and applied them to Liveryaol schoolchildren. M e n he was appointed to a post with llle London County Council (L.C.G.) in 1913, he became Britain3 first professional applied psycholagist, and he was occupied for the next twenty years with educationd psychology; He had to organize the testing of marry thousands of children for immediate practical purposes. He eouEd not do it af.1himself and had to rely on as-

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sistants, who m r e often untrained. Vet this was the source of much of the data on which his more important and controversial theoretical claims later had to rest* Burt" conGction always was that educational achievement depended largely if nett entirely, on inteltigence, which he tendentietusly defined as ""inate, general, cognitive ability'? (1955, 158). This is cantroversial in several ways, Behaviorist psychologists contended that concepts of mental states such as abilidies were useless for explaining behavior; and the meaningfulness of IQ (intelligence quotient) tests as measures af a srlpposclcl "geneml cogrlitive abiliry"' continues to be seriously questietned, But his claim that irrtelligence is innud:,that is, genetically determined, was especially cantroversid because Burt was influential in instituting the English educational practice of selecting pupils h r different types of secondary school on the basis of an examination at age eleven. Burr was a firm believer irr the irrnateness of most individual differences and in the wisdom af selective schooling. His appointment in 1932 to a Chair of Bychology at Ifnivc-trsity College, London, took him from practical to academic work and forced him to face up to methodological and theoretieal questions. Here he made himself a master of factorial analysis, a method Tor handling a complm set etf observations irr terms sf a limited set of underlying factors. Having taught himself the necessary mathematical techniques, building an the work of his predecessor Charles Spearman, he applied them to the topic of individual psychological differences, He thought that the resulting bask, F~ctorssfE-l.zeMind (19401,would be his most lasting cantribution. This is the paint where evidence of an obsession about his scientific reputation and influence began to appear. In the second edition of that bask and in later works, Burt withdrew his acknowledgments of Spearman" fundamental contributions and started trpng ta represent himself as the originator of rlle factorial method in psyc;hulogy, His claims became increasingly exaggerated, and he even resorted to the device af writing fake letters from nonexistent people for publication in the journal he edifed! The k l s i of ~ his claim to priority should have been obviaus to those who knew the subject, So why did he attempt the deception? It looks as if his egotism got out of control, turning from the self-confidence that any original scientist needs into delusions uf a grandeur beyond that which he had earned. Despite these failings, EEurtk professional reputation lasted his lifetime. His claims about the innateness uf intelligence involved him in public controversy because of the support they gave to the politically sensitive goliq of selective education. But he was an agile debater, well able to defend himself in argument. (Ir is quite possible Tor scientisrs to engage in political disputes without damaging their prokssional reputa-

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tions,) Soon after Burt's death, however, grave doubts were raised abolxt the soundness of his observational dah-and about his integriv irr presenting them, These are serious charges for any scientist to face. Professional ixlcompewnce is bad enough, but outright fraud is unforgiivable irr the ethics of science. A crucial kind of eGdence .for or against claims about the heritability of intelligerlce carnes from irlstarlces of that raher rare phenomenon: identical twins reared in different family and sociat backgrounds. Burr, haGng been so long in the job of testing the intelligence sf huge numbers of London schoolchildren, had had a special opportunity for collecting such data. At various times-in 1943,1955,and in the 1960s-he published papers, sometimes mentioning as assistants a Miss Corrway and a Miss Haward, in which he presented data that had ostensibIy been accumulated on separated identical M n s in his years with the L.C.C. (or later). But in 1972, Leon Kamirl showed just how untrustworthy these so-called data were. NO clear details were given af how they were collected; contradictions existed b e ~ e e the n different published versions of them; careless el-rars could readily be detected; and-most damaging af aH-extremely improbable tables af data were presented, with csrrelation coefficiems coming out the same to three decimal points for samples of quite different sizes. At best, this s h w s such carelessness as to amount to incompetence; at worst, it looks like deliberate misrepresentation of the alleged data. Hearnshawb careful review of the evidence in his biography Cyril Burt, Psychologist (19"19) supports the graver charge, it seems that Burt did no new surveys of tthrins after leaving the L,G,C., contrav to what he sometimes claimed, and that if Miss Conway and Miss Moward ever existed, they did n s work for him after 1940. So either he was extremely forgetful, or he lied abalxt the provenance of his data. m a t then was the source of the fig~lreshe published? In fact, many of Brrrt's recods were destroyed in the wartime blitz an London, and the most probable conclusion seems to be that in his later years he was tr-ying to bolster his controversial arguments by "reconstructing" lost or fragmentary or halfremembered data. Perhaps he continued to belie* that he had firmel-ly gatten empirical eGdence for the heritability of intelligence, but he appears to have lost all sense of standards of hones9 in argnirrg a scientific case, If his data had become incomplete s r were based only s n memory, he should have franklgl acknowledged &is, Mrhy then shauld sudl a highly intelligent man, who had proved to be a very competent psychologist and had occupied high positions of public trust, have stooped to dishonesty? His belief in, the genetic determinarion of intelligence seems to have become so ctogmatic that he adjusted evidence to fit his theory. SelE-confidence turned into egotism,

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and scierrtific arxrbition de&c3ner;lted into a craving for reputation arld educational innuence beyond \Ivhat he had any rigtrt to expect. Normal scientific motivation can became pathological, tn Burt's case, several things went wrong for him in midlife, which may help explain rhe change. His marriage broke down; m a y of his inrportant p q e r s were destroyed in the war; and on tap af aXZ that, he developed severe symptoms of Meniere's disease, in which disturbance of the semicircular canals of the inner ear causes attaclcs of veaigo and impairment af hearing. There were professional disappointments, too: seeing his department taken over after his retirement by someone with quite different views; losing the editorship of his statistical journal; and the rejection by the Labour government (after 1964) of the policy of selective schooling with which he had been so closely identified, He must have felt that the world was rdecting all that he had stood for, Given all these circumstances, it is understandable that he became somewhat paranoiac. Burt's is a rather clear case of fraud, but it is an unusual one even within the known cases in science. He appears have become psychoEagiealiy disturbed in a way that destroyed both his scientific integrity and his judgment, Ironically, nothing has cast so much dolxbt on the significance of genetics for iltelligence, and even on the abili.fy of psycholagists to define it and test for it, as Burt's betrayal of scientific honesty In his IQ studies, Much more common in science are cases of slight "cleaning up" of data, where absolute judgments don" apply so ctearb. Datafudging has been attributed to some of the greatest scientists (though not ~ t h o l x controversy-see WuiE 1988, 313-31 9). Galileo is supposed t to have made up some of his data on balls rolled dawn inctirred planes, Newton is suspected sf ha~wrgfudged same of his calculations an gravitational forces, and some of Mendel's data, from which he calculated ratios of dominmt to recessive characters in peas, is thought to be too perfect to be statistically plausible, But these cases are rather different from Bt~rt'sdownright fraud. Standads of reporting experiments were less rigidly codified in earlier times, there was no gross deception in those examples, and the claimed results have been borne aut by repeated testing. Broad and Wade apply a rather simplistic black-white notion of objectivity and honesv in science when they claim drat "for the moralist, no distinction can be made between an Isaac Newan who lied I"or truth and was righl, and a Cyril Burt who lied for truth and was wong" (1982, 213). Nevertheless, it is important to recognize that scientists are constantly tempted to interpret their obsewations in terms of their favored theoxly; altholxgh the critical, skeptical attittxde of other scientists canbut doesnt ahays-provide a safeguard against this understandable tendency

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We have seen how Bt~rt3overcaneern for reputation and influence seems to have led him into fraudulent claims. But bebre those were unmasked, there was other e ~ d e n c that e he had ai strange cast of mind. An e n t q in his diary as an Oxford student reads: ""My plxrpose in life eoncerns primarily myself It is to produce one perfect being far the Universe" Wearnshaw 1979, 268-2691, Perhaps not too much importance should be artached to such youthfill jottings, but in the cantext of the other evidence, this une seems significan~In later years, Burt harbored an intense dislike for his colleague Dr. Philpott, to wham he tended to delegate much of the routine business in the Psycholow Department of Urliversiq College, London. Personal anripalhies are typical of human nature-even among supposedly objective scientists-but this was an extreme case*In one episode, the esteemed prokssor composed such a bafrage of lengthy letters pouring scorn on the work of the lucWess Philpofl as ta put Burt's o m m e n ~ balance l into question, After that, they were nelrer on speaking terms again, and Burr:Gndictively blocked all chance of promotion for his unfortunate colleague. Other devious and deceptive behavior appeared. Burt was wont to change the minutes of business meetings and to alter the proofs of papers d t h o u t the author" cansent so that they would fit his own paint of view. A f er his retirement from his Landon chair, he tried to interfere with the work of his successor (of whom he did not approve), and the college authorities eventually had to take the extraordinav step of banning him from the campus! No doubt every institulion has its horror sturies ta telt, but what we see in Burt's case is the common desire .for professional power (even over relatkely small academic and administrative derails) magnified to a grotesque degree. It is sobering to note how difficult it can be to resist the authority o h scientist once he attains a high professional reputation along with a prestigious position.

The Baltimore Affair David Baltimore shared a NobeX Prize in 1975 for the discovery of retroviruses, These ruses can replicate RNA into DNA, violating the "Central Dogma'kf molecular genetics rbat infosnr&ion flows only from DNA to RNA, Retroviruses include tumar-causing viruses, poliovirus, and HlV; which causes AIDS, But Bafltimore may be remembered less far his pianeer work in virology than for his association with the most publicized charge uf haud in recent biomedical science. In 1986, the journal Cell published a paper by Baltimore and five coautholls that set off ten years of controversy Margot OTaole, throrking at the MassachrrseUs Institute of Technology under the supervision of r one of the coauthors, Thel-eza Imanishi-Kari, accused her s u p e ~ s oof

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not having actuaHy performed some of the experiments on which the paper was based, The article cited experiments, involving complex technical procedures, on the effects of an engineered "transgene" on the immune system of mice. Q'Toole, coming across Inranishi-Kari's laborat o y notes, concluded that the eqeriments had not actuafly yielded the published results, Not receiving what she felt was a satisfact~ryexplanation from Imanishi-Kari, Q'T'oole brought her suspicions to Baltimore, She claimed later that he disrllissed her charge that the paper cantairled falsified and fabricated data, finding rather that the paper contained only inconsequential Baws, A long, drawn-out controversy ensued. Q i Toole voiced her concerns to MIT officids, but no action was taken. Her objections were communicated to staff scientists of the National Institutes of Health (NIH), which initiated a series of investigations that ended up involving Congress and even the Secret S e r ~ c e . In 1991, under pressure from a House committee under Representative John.Dingell, NfHk Office of Scientific Integrity conducted hearings that concluded with a E-eport declaring Xmanishi-Kari guilty of scientific misconduct. The consensus in the media and among most academics at the time was that Imanishi-Kari had indeed committed fraud in her research. Baltimore was faulted for stubbornly supporting her. Efarvad biologist Watter Ciibert was particularly vocal in his condemnation of B d timore, He told a reporter in 1991 that the Baltimore affair was like "a Creek tragedy, It's hubris that brings d o m the tragic hero, The most charitable thing t s say is that [Baltimore]task some arrogant view that 'I can. do no wrong,' that "hatever I write in science is true.) He coutdnY admit to a mistake. If he had, this wouldn't have happened" (Kevles 1998, 250). Faced with the apparently strong evidence of fraud, Baltimore retracted the Cell article, He elren issued an apology to QfTooXe,declaring: ""Xommend Dr. OTaole for her couE-age and her determination, and I regret and apologize to her b r my kiltrre to act vigorously enough in my investigation of her doubts77Kevles1998,269).Under pressure he resigned as p ~ s i d e nof t Kockefetler Universiq. Concern had been raised in the media that the initid support of Battimore and Imaznishi-Kari by the scientific community; before proper investigation of the case, would undermine plxblic confidence in the capacity of science to control misconduct in its ranks. The sugestion was that prskssional loyalty could overcame obligation to society, Representative DingeEX viewed the Baltimore affair as a ""crucialcase'9in stemming what he considered to be an irlcreasing problem of fraudulerzl:research arising from increased competition .for government -Funding.The controversy had long-ranging effects on the supervision of sciencfic research by government agencies, The self-policing of Eraud by peer review within the scientific community began to be replaced by trials con-

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ducted by governme-l agencies, Edimrs of biomedical jorxrnals reacted by joining together to formulate strict guidelines designed to maintain editorial freedom along with more rigorous standards of peer reGew. But the story did not end there. Tmanishi-bri had never admitted any wrongdoing, and she persisted in fighting the charges. After another five years of investigation, the charges w r e findy M,ithdrawn in 1996, fnranishi-Kari was exonerated and ended up being reinstated at Tufts University Baltimol-e retracted his retraction af the Cell paper, and his reputation was largely restored In 1997, he was n m e d president of the California Institute of Technology.. OToole still maintains that her charges wre justified, and dre expresses biaerness about her scientific career being ruined, The baroqute intricacy of the affair-daailed in Daniel kvles's carehl revim (1998)-reveals stark contrasts between the way science is now commonly done and the way it was pursued before large-scale government funding and supervision began rollowing World Wc?r 11, Highly complctx research that requires very expensive technologql to gather and process data has camplicated the question sf what c~nstifutesfraud in science, There can be various degrees of misleading representation of experiments, ranging from gross fabricativn of data to subtle matters of judgment in the presentation and interpretation af results. The bureaucratic super~sionof research fixnded by the government places an increased burden on researchers to record everqi detail of their experiments in case their work is challenged*In. testimony behre Congress in 1989, Batlimore exyressed his misgivings on the trend toward more investigation of possible fraud in scientific research, declaring that ''M study is ever complete. . . , Deciding when to write up a study is an arbitrary and personal decision.. . . I_A] paper does not claim to be an absolute assurance of truth, only a moment's best guess by one group of investigators. * . , [Alnother investigator might have come to a different conclusion using the same data. fn a real sense, a scientific paper is a subjectiw product" [Kevles 1998, 387), Bdtirrtore advised that in place af tortuous investigations to determine if a piece sf research was condtxcted properly, new experiments that confirm or disconfirm findings should be used to maintain the integrity of scientific research. Of course, new experiments (whether attempts at replication or different experiments relevant to the same issue) may confirm or disconfirm a scientific claim. That process is not something new in scienlifrc method, though today there is more AilFftculty in getting replication af experiments fiutded, Btxt it is somedring new if Balr-imoremeant to suggest that new experirrlentscan "maintain the integrity" of Ihe scientist or scientists who put fomard the original claim, The honesty ofthe investi-

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gator is logically independent of the truth of the claim made. False claims are often made with complete integrity, and a true claim might, given luck, be made on same disl-ronestbasis. Scientific practice has traditionally relied on the integriq of scientists, supported by their shame should dishones9 ever be discovered or by shunning of the scientist by the scientific community b r gross haud. But in recent decades, increasing professional and frnanciaj presstxres have created greater temptations to cheat. Hence the irlcreasing tendency to institute bureaucratic measures to check on integrity Clearly, there is a continuing problem in striking the right balance on this matter,

Achievemenl: in science sometimes leads to wider public fame, but such fame is not always proporlionate to the individual's strictly scientific distinction. It is not very realistic to became a scientist with the aim of gaining worldwide celebrity, but a number of people have attained it, whether they wished it or not. If celebriv comes, there are various aMitudes scientists can take to it, Some may regard it with lofty indifference, thinking of it as a haxzdicnp ta their work because it brings external pressures such as the attentions of the media-thougtt they may find it an advantage in securing hnding .for further work, Some may rather enjoy a bit of public adtxlation,Thus, scientists can shun publicity, exploit: it, or even revel in it. Let us look at some contrasting case studies. The reader might also consider this angle while looking at the cases of M. Curie in 5. l , Pastetxr and Salk in "7 1, D a M n in 8.1, and Oppenlreimer in 10.1,

Newton5 Entry into Public Life Newton is am example of a scientist who was able and willing to turn his great sdentific reputation into fame and fortune sf a more worfdZy kind. By the time his Pn"ncipia at last appeared in print in 1687, Newan had done his major original work 111 science. It seems that he became bored with university life at Cambridge and welcomed am opportunity to move to the capital and find something new to do, Having f;ained some degree of pubtic reputation by his opposition to King James 11's ill-fated attempt to impose Catholicism on the University of Cambridge, Newton was elected a member of Parliament for the university's constituency in 1689 and again in 17Q1[though he was defeated in 117031. He was then able to use his influence with those in power to gain for himself the position of warcien of the Royal Mint in London, with the very large salary (Eorthose times) of £2,000 per annrrm. He fulfilled his duties there with unexpected energy, pursuing counterfeiters zeaXsus2y In 1703, he became

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the first scientist to receive a knighthood, thalxgh it was apparently given more for his public services than his science. He thus attained a secure and very well rewarded position near the top sl"the English establishment of his day and w s buried in Weminster Abbey I-ie was one scientist who made the most of his public fame.

Ein~&inkAttitude Toward Fame When Einstein" general theory of relativity was confirmed in 1919 by observations that showed tight ""bending" near the sun during a solar eclipse, the media spread his name around the world, and he found himself the subject of more papular fame than any previous scientisr. Hailed as the greatest scientific genius since Newton, Einstein found thar his views w r e earxlestty saugtnt on every topic under the sun-politics, religion, and the meaning of life included. But none of this turned his head, as it might have done with a lesser man, He remained the same unassuming but unconventional, earnest yet humorolxs character that he had always been. He fit the scereorWpe of the eccentric and impractical professor, with his unruly shack sf hair and his amateur efforts s n the violn-and the world loved him for it, Enduring the &tentions of the press and of politicians, cranks, help-seekers and harrgers-on of all kinds, he would cansent ta be photographed only in return far a donation to the poor. Thus, Einstein, thou& not seeking fame, was ready to make use of it, He was rather too kind in trying to help aspiring young scientists, with the result that possession of a glowing reference from Einstein became a disadvar~tagein the physics profession! He somewhat indiscriminately put his name and reputation behind various idealistic social and patitical movements. fn the 1920s and early 1930s, he supported pacifism and conscientious ubjection to militay service-for like many others, he had been horrified by the slaughter of VVsrld War I. He enthusiastically supported the ideals of the League of Nations in the 1920s and served on at least one of their committees. He also lent his name to the Zionist movement b r the foundation s f a Jewish state in Palestine, Einstein became increasingly identified with his Jewish heritage, if not with the religion. Later, he declined the offer of the presidency of Israel on the grounds sf political incompetence and advancing age, In his last years, he lived almost as a recfluse, avoiding the intemiews and public involvements that the world continued to offer him. m e r e was an important exception, .for in the very fast days of his life, he agreed to sign a document prepared by English philosopher Bertrand Russell, caIling for an appraisal of the dangers of nuclear war: This led to the infiuential series of ""Pgwash" conkrences, which scientists Eram countries on bath sides

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of the Cold War attended. Einstein viewed fame, once thrust upon him, as a means to promote causes he thou& w r t h y

FEeming's Enjoyment of Fame Alexander FEeming attained extraordinary celebrity in the last decade of his life as the discaverer of penicillin, the first effective antibiotic, He traveled the world, collecting ~wenq-fivehonorary degrees, BEleen civic freedams, and over one hundred and forty other miscetlane~ushonors and prizes, His fame even became extraterrestrial when a crater on the moon was named after him! But the main work on penicillin was done tater by others [wicfi whom Fleming eventually sharcd the Nobei Prize). So how did it came about that FEeming got the public fame? Did he seek it? Bid he even deserve it? h we have seen irz 5.2, Flerning thought that penicillin would be useless as an antibiotic. After publishing the paper reporting his discovery, he turned his attention ta other research, The effective development of penicillin as an antibiotic had to await the work of Chairr and FIorey in the early 1940s. Ernst Chain (11906-1979f was a German refugee bischemist who worked with Howard Florey 11898-19681, an Australian pbsician doing research at Odord on Fteming's antibacterial lysozyme. There was heightened interest at the time in antibacterial agents because of the need ta fight infections in throunds dtxringwrld War 11, FXorey asked Chain to try ta find out the mechanism by which lysozyme kills bacteria. In checking through same two hundred papers far ideas, Chain came upon FXexning8sI929 report on penicillin, which suggested to him that the mold acted like the enzyme lysozyme. Ftorey and Chain obtained same cultures sf the peniciflium mold .From Ffeming's lab, which St. MawS Hospital had been careful to maintain over the years, Florey's team then laboriously produced a few milligrams of purified penicillin from many gallons of liquid, having had to recruit hospital bedpans and factory tins into their ""string and seding w a n method of production. The extract was then successful_tytested on infections in mice. The first clinical trial was on a man with blood poisoning, He greatly irnproved after the first injection, but then they ran out of penicillin, and the unfortunate patient died-but not without having demonstrated penicillin's potemial eft"ecriveness.The British authorities, heavilly oceupied with the war effort, were not sumBently impressed by the results of FXsrey3steam to fund the production sf more peniciltin, so U.S. help was sought for mass production for wartime use, The U.S. government quickly came up with a million dollars fur the project. Five large drug companies with hundreds sf researchers worked to develop enough

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penicillin ta serve the AXlied troops, Within three years, there was a sufficient amount to trcat milliuns of wounded people. This prOjecl was the largest single research venture ever undertaken up to that time, At that dark stage of the war, the British government and press were desperate for good news of any kind, so it was naturd for them to play up the story of the new miracle drug far a11 it was worth, Here was the "magic bullet" so Long hoped for, which would kill the g-erms whdtout killing the patient, But why was it that Fjterning got all the lime-light, when the work to make the drug available far us had been done in Qxford by Chain arld Flarey? When the former head of Ftemlngb department heard of the success of penicillin, he wrote to The Tima that Flemirlg should get the credit. Reporters flocked to interview Fleming. Then someone wrote in to suggest that FXoreyFsgroup desewed the credit, and reporters went to interview him, too, But Florey imperiously turned them may, foflwing the custom of many scientists of the time, especially in Britain, to shun publicity. ( H w many scientists could afford to do so nowadays?) So the reporters went back to Ftexning, who was happy to talk with them, Another factor in the story was institutional pressures and rivalries. St. Mary's Hospital was then a private foundation, dependent on publicity for its prestige and its income [this vvas before the advent of rlle British National Health Serace, and the financial constraints more charaeteristic of the contempamv scene were at work even then). So the admfnistrators of St. Mary's were happy to give the media tire impression that a discovery sf great benefit to humanity haid been made within their does, And the newspayers, especially those controlled bp the parfiotic Lord Williarn Beaverbrook, embroiderd the romantic story of the poor boy .from rural Scotland who had become a scientific genius but remained modest and simple despite his fame. Flemirlg submitted happily enough to what is now called "media hype," and his second wife a~dEyencouraged the process. Hwever, he retained a realistic sense of his o m part in the penicillin stov, and he often paid generous tribute to the Oxforif work. Me said in 1945 that he did not really deserve his Nobel Prize, He would often say to his admirerst "I did nor invent penicillin. ,"\daredid that, 'Ionly discovered it by aceident" macfarlane 1984,260). Surely no one expected him to go around try;ing to refute all the false claims made about him by the press. ft is some measure of the modesty of his pmfessional scientific standing that he was elected a fellow of the Royal Socieq orlty at the twelfth attempt and after attaining his public fame, Yet in his awn undernonstrative way, he came rather to enjoy his worldwide celebrity; After al, he did not haue to take on all the travelirlg and speechiving that he did. FZeming was received no less than five times by the Pope-an unusual

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fate for the lad from a land of the Protestant Reformation! At one degree ceremony in Spain, people in the street felt moved to kiss the hem of his gorgeous robe as he passed. Even in his native Scotland, a land less given to such emotional extravagance, a photograph shows a rare smile on his face as he is carried shoulder-high by the students of Edinburgh who had elected him as their rector. It would be churlish to begrudge this very competent scientist his slice of luck and his hour of harmless celebrity at the end of a lifetime of undramatic laboratory work. But it would be unfair not to give at least equal mention of the part played by Florey, Chain, and others in producing penicillin. It is well to note that public fame is fickle and can be contrived by the media, not necessarily in proportion to scientific merit.

Suggestions for Further Reading Broad, W. J., and N. Wade. 1982. Betrayers of the 7kuth. Coulson, T. 1950. JosephHenry: His Life and Work. Desmond, A., and J. Moore. 1991. Darwin: The Life ofa Tormented Evolutionist. Harding, S. 1986. The Science Question in Feminism. Hearnshaw, L S. 1979. Cyril Burt, Psychologist. Kamin, L J . 1974. The Science and Politics of 1.Q. Kevles, D. J. 1998. The Baltimore Case:A nial ofPolitics, Science, and Character. Macfarlane, G . 1984. Alexander Fleming The Man and the Myth. Sayre, A. 1975. Rosalind Franklin and DNA. Watson, 1. D. 1980. The Double Helix (Norton Critical Edition).

The Utility of Science

We speak of "utility" or "usefulness" as the motivation for scientific work that is undertaken Eur the sake of its likely pmctical applications. Francis Bacon argued that this should be the primcaly motive (see 2,1), but his claim has in fact mare reIevance to the science af the twentieth century than that af Bacon$ o m time, Historian of science Berek de Solla Price (uvho coined the tern high tech) has asseaed that basic science did not became significantly usehl until the late eighteenth century, with the irrtrodtlction of devices using electriciQ-culminating in the ""invention factory" of Thomas Edison in b e r i c a a century later [1963,8),Practicd technology largely preceded theory until then; it has been remarked, for example, that the steam engine did more for the science of thermodynamics than science did for the steam engine, Some applications af science are sf obvious human benef t, such as increasing food production, relieving pain, or curing disease. Bt~tin other cases, the intended application may be controversial, dangerous, or even evil in many peopleskyes: for example, the manufacture af weapons of mass destruction (see 10.1) or the creation of new and sophisticated methods of torture or coercive control of behavior. A Iess clear example is the prospect of altering human genes, with its farreaching promises and worries (see 10.2). If we describe the motive for militarily directed scientific work as ""ttrility" we are saying only that some government or armed serace saw such applications sf science as serving their politicai and strategic puryoses, New weapons are rypicalb justified as necessary (even if regrettable) means for winning a war or for deterring potential enemies from using such weqons themselves. At the commercial level, much scientific work is ob~ouslymotivated by its potential for profir to corporations in industrial applications. Research into haw to give h o d a longer shelf life, .for example, sewes the ends of large campanies that find it convenient and profitable to centralize h o d prodrrt.tion in a few sites. Whether this is good for the consumer, in terms of taste, hedth, s r variety af choice, is a different y e s tisn, Research conducted by pharmaceutical companies may be motivated more by the realization that patens on their exisling brands may be about to expi= than by considerations af medical benefit. 8bvi-

ously, what counts as ""useful""depends on whom you ask and what pmpose that person or institution has in mind. One persorr's use sf science will often count as another" misuse.

7.1 The Tradition af Medicd Science There is a contrast to physical science, both in methodolow and motivation, ir-r the tmdition sf medical science. The practice of medicine as we understand it can be traced back to Hippocrates in ancient Greece, who set its goal as usefulness for human welfare, From the beginning, it was an empiricatly focused practice, unlikt? the one theoretical science besides mathematics that was well developed by the ancierlts, namely astronomy, The tradition of medical science only began to interact strongly witb. physical science when chemistry was applied ta physiologq"in the nineteerrth century The science of medicine has by definition the gaal of maintaining human health, and well-being by the prelrention and cure of illness and injuw This branch of science is most easily appreciated for its practical value by the public, and in recent years gavernments have tended to be especially generous in supporting medical research, Medicine has always been at feast as much an art (in the sense sf a practical craft) as a science based on theory, The practice of medicine with a scienCific artimde has a long history of slow beginnings, The origins sf medical science lie in a rather different kind of tradition from that of the physical sciences, The ancient Egyptian priestly class developed medicine extensively as part of its tradition. Unlike the Greeks, the Egyptians had no general prohibirion on human dissection, and they conducted some basic surgery, But their practical knowledge was mixed with superstition arld W h s , Hippocrates (ca. 400 u.c.1 is called the father of medicine because he was the first individual in medical history who was not treated like a gad. He made medicine a science by freeing the practice from its ties to the priesthood and its appeals to mysticism , bwvis and supernatural influences. His famous aphorism A n l o ~ g auita (The art is long, and life is short) expresses the idea of progressive accurnulation of howledge over generations, He emphasized the aim of disinterested service for human welfare, which is reflected in the Hippocratic oath, still taken by many medical students today. The Hippoeratic tradition was passed down in the writings of the medical school of Cos, dating from about 500 a.c. Lacking knowledge of human physiology and of biofoa and without instruments such as thermometers or microscopes, few scientific discoveries, in the modern sense, occuned during that era. But the Hippocraric approach to medicine was in the spirit of modern science. Its hcus was on getting results

The Will'@of Science I 1l5

and putting hypabeses to the empirical test, The treatise On Anllient Medicine protested against trying to base the study of medicirre on cusmotogicat speeulatian, advising its readers that ""one must attend in medicine not primarily to plausible theories but to experience cornErred with reason . . , for a theory is a composite memory of things apprehended by sense-perception" FarrinBan 1949, "1-X), The Hippocratic witing O Ythe ~ Sacred Disease contains an argument in k o r of a naturalistic account of what we now recognize as epilepsy: They who first referred this malady to the gods appear to me to have been just such persons as the conjurors, purificators, mountebanks, m d charlatans now are, who give themselves out for being excessively religious, and as knowing more than other people. Such persons, then, using the diviniq as a pl.etext and screen of their own inabiliq to afford m y assistance, have called the disease sacred. . . . If they ilnitate a goat, or grind their teeth, s r if their right side be conwXsed, they say that the tnother of the gads is the cause. B21t if they speak in a sharper m d more intense tone, they resemble this state ts a horse, and say that Poseidon [gad of the seal is the cause. . . . But this disease seetns to me to be no tnore divine than the athers; but it has its nature such as other diseases have, and a cause h e n c e it originates. (Hippoerates 1952,154-155)

The Hippscratic writings begin to express what we would call the scientific appmaclt to understanding disease.

f-larveyc The Circulation ofthe Blood Every schoolchild knows that the blood circulates because of the pumping action of the heart, Vet an accurrate description of the heart's franctisn and the very idea that blood circulates througfl the body required a breakthrough. in medical science. This came in 1628 with the publication of An Anato~vll'calTreatise on the Movement of the Heart and Blood by William Harvey (1578-1657). The first serious attempt to describe human anatomy from dissections of the body was made abollt 300 u.c. by the Greek Mcrophiltts. He already distinguished sensory and motor nerves and showed that arteries contain blood rather than air, as was thought at the time, But his majar work On Anammy was lost, U p to the fifteenth cenmrq,, ideas abalg human anatetmy and physiology were derived from CaIerl (her,. 129-1991, a Greek physician i i ~ n in g Rome, His works were long considered authoritative despite their many errors, F a l l o ~ n gAristotle, Galen had based his study of hunlan anatetmy largely on dissections of Barbary apes since human dissection was nat cansidered proper in the Greek

and Roman traditions. Bias was also introduced by adherence to religious dogma over observatiorz, Galen believed, for example, that there were three spirits governing the body: the "naturatF>sgirit in the liver, the "vital" in the heart, and the ""animal"in the brain, He proposed thar the blood makes the hear%rnove, rather than the heart actively pumping the blood. Galen's authority was first challenged by Flemish anaemia Adreas Vesalius (1524-15641, who set the foundation for modern medicine in his masterwork On the Structu1-e of the Hldman Body, This text was printed in 1543, the same year in which the revolutionary work of Copernicus was published. Its accurate and aaistic depictisn of human anatomy is not much different Erom what you would see in work used by medical students today. (Qne sf the few deficiencies in his anatomy compared with that of today is his description of female anatomy, where he reverted to largely fictitious Aristmlian ideas on human reproductive physialogy in place sf observation.) Vesalius began his studies at the University of Padua in Italy where the medical tradition of antiquity still flourished. At that time, Galen's ideas were still unchallenged, despite their inaccuracies and miseoneeptions, Human dissection had only become accepted-using the corpses of criminals-in a few places in Renaissance Europe, Unlike the other professors of anatomy, Vesalius did his awn dissecting, instead of reading from Galen while barber-surgeon technicians did the actual work. In t555, Vesalius announced that Ibe pores believed by Calen to aUow blood to pass Rom the right to the left chambers of the heart simply did not exist. Bold thotlgh he was, Vesrzlizrs Eartnd it difficult to muster enough courage to chdlenge the traditional a u t h a r i ~M . e wrote: "Not long ago 1 would not have dared ta diverge a hair's breadth .from Gailen's opinion. But the septum tdiviiding wall between the chambers of the heart1 is as thick, dense and compact as the rest of the heart, E do not see therefore, how even the smallest particle can be transferred .from the left to the right ventricle through it" (Mason 1962, 216-2 t 7). His work was condemned by the Galenists, and he was sentenced tet deatb by the inyuisition for body snatching and dissecting human bodies, The sentence was commuted to a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, whidl he undeftook, but he died on the return journey. Harvey was the first openly to reject the cardiac pare theory. After all, it had not always been safe to challenge established authority on such matters, Michael Selrvetus (1512-15531, with whom Vesalius had worked in Paris, was the first to suggest that the bflaad passes from the right to the left chamber of the heart by way of the lungs, Sewetus had proposed that the blood is really one substance, in contrast to Ibe commonty held belief that the red arterial blood was essentially diffetrexrt from the ve-

The Will'@of Science I I I?

nous blood, His Unitariaxz theology gave him the idea of unifymg GaXen's three bodily '%spirits":the naturd spirit of venous blood, the virai spirit of arterial blaad, and the animal spirit of the nervous system.,He believed that the divine spirit in the air (what we call owgenl, purifies the venous blood, making it red. Servetus anticipated Harveyk view that arterial blood is the same fluid as the venous blood except .for the change that takes place in the lungs, Servetus's reward for such theorizing was to be burnt at the stake by fofln Cal.\Pin,the leader of Protestantism in Geneva. What Calvin considered his worst heresy was the claim that the soul amounts ta a spiritual essence in the blood. Marvey studied in Padua under Girolamo Fabrizio, a pupil of Vesalius, from whom he learned a curious fact about veins: They have valves, Harvey noted that these valves (""EttXedoorsD")re arranged so that the blood Rows in one direction only; towar-d the heart. Hawey cited this fact when Robert Boyle (M27-1691) asked him what had ted him t s think of circulation of the blood., Harvey replied that he couldn't conceive of such a device as the valves in veins being present withottt having been designed for some hnction. Me spent hiventy years studying the beating of hearts in animals, from frogs to dogs, to test his hpsthesis of circutation. In the spirit of the awakening empirical appmach ta nature, Harvey irlquired what mechanisms operated in the body His suspicion that the blood makes complete cycles through the body was motivated, curiously; by the one example Aristotle cited of perfect circular motion among earthly phenomna. Harvey wrote that he "began to think whether there might not be a motion as it were in a circle, in the same way as Aristotle says that the air and the rain emulate the circular motion of superior bodies" Mason 1962,221). Harvey made numerous experiments trying to measure the volume of blood Row. Ele h n d that within half an h o w more blood Rows tJIro11gh the heart than exists in the entire body-one of the first applications of quantitative reasoning in bioto13y. He made what seems the obvious inference: The blood must in some way circulate, since it co~xldhardly be created and destroyed in such a share time. We hypothesized that the heart acts like a pump, using mechanical analogies that were becoming current at the time. Ele obsemed that the hearts of animals could aetually be felt to harden as they contracted, just like other muscfes do when they contract, He even tested directly Gaten's claim that blood passes through pores in the heart wal by cutting away the left ventricle of the heart of a dog, He saw no Bow from the right ventricle. Me was, hwever, unable to .fully trace the circulation of the blood from the fine arteries back to the veins. ft was left to Xtalian physiologist Marcello Malpigtli (1628-16941, u s i a~microscope, to discover the tiny capillaries that link arteries to veins. Ha,wey3sdiscovery raised questions about what hap-

pened ta the blaod in the lungs, where the "vital spirit'has added, but medical science had to wait nearly one hundred and fifty years Eor chemistry to discover the role of oxygen (see 5.2 s n Priestley),

Pasteur: Controlling Microorganisms Lalxis Pasteur (1822-1895) is the frzther of modern microbiology He provides a strikir~gexmple of a man with enormous gi&sand plenty of inclination to devote them to pure science, spending much af his effort on earemely practical pmblems in brewing, agriculture, and medicine, He has become, quite literafly, a household name, in that much of the milk we consume has been "pasteurized." But Pasteurk contributions are much wider and deeper than that one well-known process; he can claim much of the credit far propounding and verifying the germ theory of disease. After gaining admission to study at the GcoIe Normale Superieure in Paris, Pasteur specialized in physics and chemistry, going on to do doctoral r e s e a ~ hin crystailography. In this f eld, he soon made the striking discovery thar the crystals of certain substances came in two farms, displaying lefi-handed and right-handed asyrnmetries, This early research p r o ~ d e dthe basis of modern ~ereo~frernistry~ the study of the spatial configtitratisn of atoms. As prokssar af chemistry at the miversity af Strrzsbolxrg, Pasteur continued ta study such chemical asymmetries and speculated that they might be distinctive of living matter. At rhe end of his life, he was to express some regret that he had nst pursued this pure research further, hsteur's rles professional move, to take up the chair of chemistry at the newly organized miversity of LilEe in 1854, seems to have been motivated by the prospect of better experimental facilities, But part of the deal was that he should focus his teaching and research on topics of irrterest to the industries af the LiXlte region, such as wine making. Here is a nineteenth-century example of a very contemporary theme-funding being given only on the condition that the scierltist contributes to the purposes of the .funding agency, Pasteur seems to have .found this a stimulus rather than a burden. Until then, he had been a theoretical scientist doing r e s e a ~ hfor its own irrterest, but for the rest of his life, he devoted most of his efforts to sa1Gng practical problems. He told his students that he saw no conflict betthreen pure and applied science and that the ttivo irrteract so much thar there are not really twa kinds of science but instead only science and its applications. In conlFormiv with this philosophy, Paaertr was soon contributing ta the improvement of alcoholic fermentation, a process dear to the hearts and the pockets of the

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people of Liille, Some years later, after the Franco-Prussian war, he patriotically proposed to make French beer beller t h m its German rival! A short paper Paisteur wrote in 185"1n the fermentation. of milk marked the beginning of scientific m i c r o b i o l o ~for ~ in it he pastulated the role of livirlg thirlgs in chemical change, When milk goes sour, the milk sugar (lactose) is transformed into lactic acid. He showed that this process depends on the presence of huge xarlmbers of microscopic creatures that can reproduce themselves rapidly as long as; sugar is supplied (we now call these tiny liraing organisms yeasts, microbes, or bacteria). Generalizing from this discovery; he put foward the theory that other natural chemical processes like fermentation, putref'action, and so on are each dependent on a specific kind of microorganism, It was not previausty known that this was the true nature of the process of making alcohol, which had been carried on for tholxsands of years on a trial-anderror basis, with its results beirrg anlong the most-appreciated gi&s of civilization, ln 1857, Pasteur returned to Paris ta assume a senior position at the gcole Normale, where he had heavy administrative duties and ample opportunity to indulge his tendency to get involved in public controversies, Despite these constraints on his time and the scanty facilities that the lkole offered him, his laboratory research went ahead. He developed the techniques of aseptic manipuiation and sterilization, which are standard procedure today He took out patents on same of these methods and used the proceds to fund brlher resear& as well as to prodde far his farnib. But on the whole, his scientific career seems to have been a case of genuine dedication to public welfare, with the desire for reward present but not prirnaq. The other great achievement of Pastetlr3slife was the germ theory of disease, Pasteur's experiments, along with the later work of German microbiotogist Kutser~Koch (1843-1191 01, demonstrated conclusively that germs could cause diseases in higher animals and humans. In this case, too, the =search that was to prove so important started from an economic problem. Soon after arriving at his explanation of fermentation, Pasteur had conjectured that each infectious disease might be caused by a specific kind of microbe. He was given an opportunity ta test this idea when the minister of agriculture asked him to head a commission to inquire into a disease that was infecting the silkworms in central France and ruining the silk industq. Pastetxr protested that he was a chemist, not a zoologist, but the minister insisted, and Pasteur's desire to be useful to his country seems to have induced him to take up the challenge, From X865 1870, be devoted himself to studying the diseases of silkworms, working for much of that time in a makeshift laboramry in the

Cevennes mouxltains. Despite the deadz of his dactghtem and a cerebral hemorrhaget his indomitable will kept him going, Pasteurb first experiments ta develop vaccinations ta prevent disease focused on anthrax, chicken cholera, and rabies (wihich is caused by a virus, not a bacterium), using a method already known to work for smallpox. The theory was that injecting a weakened or "attenuatedrp strain of the relevant microbes could activate the natural defense systerns of the body thus preventing subsequent in&ction u\iithout inducing a full-blown ease sf the disease, To combat skepticism, Pasteur arranged dramatic public confirmations of the effectiveness of immunizing animals against anthrm, In 1885, he achieved his most-remembered success in saving a boy from rabies, which until then m s 100 percent htal, A young boy appeared at his door, having been bitten by a rabid dug and already shwing some of the synrptonrs of the dreaded hydrophobia, as the disease was then krrwn. Pasteur had the courage to try the first human vaccination against rabies. It proved successful; the boy went on to live fie-fivemore years, and Pasteur went on to errjoy f a m , horrors, and rewards, including a national pension h s m the French government. However, Pasteur has been recently accused of unethical behavior not filtirlg his folk-hero image of a sellless benefactor of humaniw We kept detailed notetosoh sf his research but told his family to keep them secret, and they m r e not made public until 3_9"7,when his grandson died. Historian Cerald Geison has used these materials to reevtrfuate the popular image af Pastetnr in which his scientific achievements were magnified ""t mphic proportions" "(1995, 24317). He had been glorified, for example, by British scientist SLephen Paget as ""re most perfect man who has ever entered the Kingdom of ScienceF71995,265). Geison faund serious discrepancies with Pasteurk puubc versions of his work that give grounds for several accusatiorrs of scientific and clinical misconduct. For one, Pasteur's pptlblished account of his use af a rabies vaccine on the boy he saved was misleading; he used a rahex diEfierent procedure than the one he had been successhlly testing on dogs. Tfie criticism is that he could not have known at the time whether his treatment was safe and effeaive, But since the boy wortld sttrely have died without treament, Pasteur" action can be justified by sayirlg that there m s nothing to lose by trying an experimental treatment in stxch a case. The criticism remains that P a s ~ u r kppublisbed account was misleading about the exact nature of what he had done. It seems that in his effofis to convince scientists sfthe truth of his theories and ta persuade the public sf the efficacy of his methods, he was prepared to be less than fully honest aborxt the details of his procedures,

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This tendency of Paste~tr'sis confirmecl by anothei- instarrce in which he has to be accused of Eraudulem presentation, however right he turned out to be in, scientific substance. Xn his public demonstration ofa vaccine against anthrax in sheep in 1881, he gave the impression that he was using his own oqgen-attenuatd vaccine, but his notebook suggest that he used a different one prepared by a collaboratar. He was either lucky or had very good scientific intuition, for a few months later he was able to perfect the oxygen-attenuated vaccine, which then kcarlle standard. There is, howelrer, a darker side to this case, The procedure he used had been developed earlier by a veterinarian named Toussaint, who had told Pasteur about it, Pasteur took the glory but Toussaint had a nervous breakdown and died. Besides being a supreme experimentalist, Pasteur was a .formidable ahersary in controversy, an adroit player of academic politics, and an eEective crusader to get his theories applied in practice, Wherever he saw human benefits to be gained, he set out ta persuade his doubting or ignorant contemporaries that his pmposals waulld work in practice, He competed h r many mards and prizes from private societies and governments. ""SueeesshE" "publie demonstrations were p~liticaflyand financially crucial far him, which explains, but hardly excuses, his departures from che truth. He curried favor with those in power, including the Emperor Louis Napoleon and his court*Toward the end of his lik, his public status was such that he was induced to run for election [as a conservative) to the French Senate, presenting himself as ""re candidate of science and patriotism," tub" he was roundly defeated. He is an example of scientific expertise, curiosity, and determination applied to benefit humanity but mixed with other familiar but less admirabite human traits, such as egotism and desire for fame, power, and money.

Salk: Fame and Controversy from a Polio Vaccine Janas SaXk became one of the best-known scientists in the United States when in 1954 he came up with a vaccine against the dreaded poliomyelitis [polio), or infantile paralysis. Polio has now been virttxally eradicated by use of the Salk vaccine and a later one irrrroduced by AIbert Sabin. Behind the success story, howelrer; is a complex and stiEf controversial account of how science and its application to ptxblic health should be conducted.. Let us first consider some of the history of vaccination. County doetar Edward lfenner (1749-1823) introduced the first systematic use of ilaccination to prevent disease, a medical innovation that

has probably saved more lives than all medical drugs combined. In 1798,he demonstrated that inoculation of material from coury>uxblisters could immunize against smallpox, a disease that was killing up to a fourth of the population of England in the seventeenth century Jenner's work is a striking case of practical howledge preceding rl.leorflica1understanding. In his time, there was n s concept of microorganisms causing disease. Micmscopist h t o n van Leeulhlevlhoek (1632-1'723) had actually observed microorganisms (which he called "animatcules"") but it wasnt until almost a century after Texlner that Pasteur developed the germ theory of disease, In 1718, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689-1 762) introduced irroculation to EntJtand from Constantirrople (Istanbul), having gotCen the idea frorn Turkish and Arab women who had been using it for centuries-the techniqlxe originated in China. Individuals exposed to infection from mild varieties of smallpox became resistant to more serious forms, Lady Montagu had her own children inoculated and on returning to England, she urged the Prince of Wales to have his children inocul~ed,too. He did so, successfully but only after testirrg the procedure on a group of criminals and orphans. Nearly a cenmry Eater, fennel-inferred from the similarity between cowox and smatlpox that the body's defenses might be scimuhted by the milder disease to give immunity from the more virulent one, Using a thorn, he inoculated a boy with material from am infected milkmaid. Six meks later, the boy was exposed to smallpox but was unaffected. In 11798, fenner published an account of his observations, entitled ITlzqul'uy into the Cause and Eflee;ks of'Fiariolae Tracci~zae. (The term v a ~ c l ' nrefers ~ e to cowox, from the Latin vaca,"cow.'" Several hundred people who had been vaccinated came down with smallpox, but fennel-was able to show that the serum used was not properly prepared. At first, there was much controversy over the safety and eEeetiveness of fenner's vaccination, but he lived to be acclaimed a hero, He was knighted and rewarded with E20,OQO horn F)arliarnetlt, and he received an honorary degree from Oxford, letters of praise frorn Napoleon and fefferson, and a gold ring from the czar of Russia. Both the contrrrversy and the fame were to occur again for Satk with his polio vaccine. Afthough Jenner was not the first to inoculate against smallpox, he deserves credit for dwelapirrg and gaining acceptance for an effective vaccination, The smallpox virus, as we now understand it, becomes so attenuated (weakened) by transmission through infection of a cow that it causes only a mild reaction in humans, as apposed to the often. deadly and disfiguring smallpox, The idea was genet-alized into a theory of immunization againa diseases: Doses of attenuated infectious material would stimulate the body t s fend sff the same infectious agents later on. By the

The Will'@of Science 1 123 X080s, Pasteur had initroduced inoculation to gke ixxlrxluniq against a large range of diseases. With the germ theury of disease, the mechanisms by which immunization works began to be understood, although a daailed understanding- has emerged only in recent years. Immrrnologq" is a large research area today, with attempts to understand autoimmune diseases such as arthritis and to develop immunizatisns, especially against the hlxman immunodeficiency (AIDS) virus, which attacks the body B very immune defenses. Palis did not begin to stand sut as a serious illness until the twentieth cerrtury, partly because marry of the diseases that previausly bad taken so great a toit llad been reduced, by vaccination in the case of smallpox and by improved sanitation in the case of cholera. In fact, the incidence aE death and paralysis from polio actually increased because of better sanitation. Polio is usually a relatively mild infection of the intestines. Most babies are born with some temporary immunity and if exposed to the virus white still immune, they develop a more permanem immunity, Thus, sheltering children from unsanitary conditions early in fife increased the chances of their later suffering more severe infections of polio. Afthough the number of deaths from polio never approached those from other epidemics, the effects of paralysis, striking most commonly children, made the disease especially terrifying*President Franklin D. Koosevelt was a famous victim who was crippled by the disease as an adult, after which he was essentially confined to a wheelchair, Rossevelt's going s n to became president helped raised public interest in polio, In 1938, the National Foundation for Infantile Pamlysis was organized, and funds were raised by an annual and widely publicized March af Dimes campaign*In the initial appeal, the public sent in several miIlion dimes to the White House, thus making the campaign the largest voluntarily funded research program in medical history, Only after a successhl vaccine was developed did the U S . government step in*The development of polio vaccines marks a transition from private medical research ta the largeiy governmen~srlfunding of the big medical research programs today. Josaas Salk e n r o l 4 in the City College of New York at age fifieen and went on ta be a top student ir-rmedical school. &though he was warned that it was nor: the way to make money, he chose to ga into research and spent an extra year sltldying biochemistry after getting his M.D. MiltiXe in medical school, he met Dr. Maurice Brodie, who was doing research on palia, and Dr. Thamas Francis, with wham he worked s n a vaccine against influenza, using virrtses killed by ~xltraviolerlight, In 1935, Elrodie had tried out a vaccine against polio using viruses killed by formaidehyde, Hundreds sf children were inoculated, and hopes were raised,

only to have the experiment end in dismal failure. Some of the children came down with polio caused by the vaccinaion itself2and it did not grant effective immunity More basic research was needed. As we have seen, lfenner'svaccination against smallpox was successful, but not because he had any understanding of the underlying cause af the disease (a virus) or of how vaccination confers immunity Research to develop a polio vaccine also began with very little knowledge of the virus. (Jenner had introduced the term virus-"poison'9n Latin----to label the unknown agent causing smallpox,) Even by the 19303, the virtlses hpathesized in 2908 by Viennese researcher Karl Landsteiner to cause polio WE difficult to work with since they could not be seen with optical microscopes and were difficult to culture. Research on patio serrred to stirnullate work in the field of ~ r a l o awhich , later contributed to the momentous discovery of the structure of DNA. It was thought that the polio virus would only grow in live nerve tissue. But if the virus grew anly in nercte cells, prospects far a safe vaccine looked bleak. In 1949, a team led by John Enders succeeded in grawing polio viruses in nonnervous human and monkey tissue. In 11952, Dorothy Harstmann and David Bodian independently made a second breakthrough by showing, against the dominant belief &virologists at the time, that polio viruses did pass irrto the bloodstream. It was now establshed that pamlvic polio starts in the intestines, passes into the blood, and then invades the nerves, The fact that there are three basic types of polio virus, with different ""sraixzs," or subtpes, within the types, made Sal!& study especially difficult, Salk had to begin his palio research with the tedious job of distinguishing the types of polio virus in a complex process requiring the "sacrifice" (as it was called at the time) of some 1&008monkeys. The lack of knowledge af these difkrent types was the primary reason for Brodie's failure &I dewlop a safe and eEective vaccirle in 1935. Reseal-ch just to determine how many strains af virus cause polio cast sver a million dollars, Mass publicity was necessav to raise the k n d s since little support came from the guvernment until after the successful trials of the Salk vaccine, But publicity in the development stage tended to interfere with the scientific =search, as it introduced considerations beyond qlxestions of scierrtific theory and experiment. Saiik"~work on a polio vaccine began in 1 9 4 h t the miversity of Pittsburgfl, sponsored by the March of Dimes Found~ion,He decided to go for a killed-virus wccine. Effective 1Pcilled-bacteria vaccines had already been developed, s s he did nor: hold to the dogma that vaccines must use live viruses, One of Salk's discoveries, one that many prominent virologists found hard to accept, was that Cfte capacity of viruses to induce antigens did not correspond ta their infectivity He reasoned that a

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weakened live-tri.ms vaccine might be less safe since the rapid rnmaion of polio viruses might mke them virulent again, In 1949, Dr. Isabel Morgan at Johns Hapkins had succeeded in immunizing monkeys against polio using a killed-virtxs vaccine, To get a safe and effective vaccine from dead viruses required making sure that the viruses were no longer infectious yet retained their capacity to stimulate the body to make antibodies, Salk proceeded patiently by trial and error to pmduce a vaccine. The procedure required using a precise amount of formalin, for just the right amount of time, at just the right temperature and acidity. He successfillly tested his vaccine on monkeys, but uncertainties mmained about how it would work with humans. Salk first tried his vaccine on children who had already suffered paralyfie polio, reasoning that the vaccine could do them na harm and yet would provide a test as to whether the vaccine mised levels of antibodies in the blood. Until 1953, S,cilk"swork was not publicized outside the scientific community, but it was a different game entirely when rumors of a polio vaccine reached the news media, An articIe had been prepared for thelour~ aoj"lhe l Americzln Medical Association ta announce plans for a public test, but word of the promising new development leaked to gossip columnist Earl WiXson, who w o t e a newspaper article entided ""NewPolio Vaccine-Big Mopes Seen." This led to a public clarnor for the vaccine and criticism of Salk as a publicity seeker, r-hough he had nothing to do with the newspaper stav. clarify the status of the vaccine, Satk spoke on national radio and TV irr March 1953. He explained Zhe basic prirrcipfle of vaccination in simple terms: A vaccine i s made af the virus that causes the disease, Then, when the vaccine is injected, the body reacts with the for~nationof antibodies. These ant attacks. tibodies are found in the blood and remain to defend a g ~ n shtzlre It is evident, s f course, that the virus contained in the vaccine must be rendered harmless so that when injected it will not cause disease but will result only in the formation of projective antibodies, (quoted in Carter 2965, 160-161)

But he had ta announce that despite recent progress, there would not be sufficient vitccine available for widespread use by summer 1953. With the public now aware af Salvs work, pressure built for getting the vaccine out before the I954 polio season. There was popular demand for immediact: vaccination, but Salk insisted on h a h e r testirlg to corrfirm that the vaccine was both effective and sak. In the tradition begun by Ifenner;he inoculated himself and his family. Several hlxndred volunteers took the vaccine and it proved successful in all cases. The massive medical experiment began in. April 1954, using the vaccine an nearly half a

million schoolchildren in the first through t h i d grades; a couple hundred thousand more were injected with a placebo for control. Several large drug companies began to manufacture the SaXk vaccine in bulk, allowing for a large-scale test in 1955, when nearly two million school children were inoculated. Vaccination proved nearly $ways effective irr preventing polio. m e n a report of the vaccine's success was presented, church bells rang and sirens sounded to acclaim this miracle of modern medicine. SaEk was greeted wirh an outpouring of praise and thanks for conquering the dreaded polio. He became an interxzaional hero. A Jonas Salk dime was suggested in Congress; magazines were full of articles about him; and m o ~ studios e considered doing SalkB life. But unlike Flerning (see 6.31, who not only received public acclaim but a Nobel Prize, Saik receii-ved little recognition from the scientific communify; His name was raised at Nobe1 Committee meetiszgs, but he lacked recommendations from eminent virologists, He even failed to be admitted ta the National Academy of Sciences, partly, it has been sugested, because of his great public fame, Salk seems not to have desired the clamor associated wirh public fame, especially at a time when it might interfere with his scientific: work, After the public associated his name with the polio vaccine, he had little peace. He wondered, "mydo they all want ta know what 1 eat for breakfast?" Carter 1965, 166). Camrnmtirlg on his o m mothation, he said: I wanted to be a scientist, nst a vacche ~rtainufacturer,I was an ilrtzrtunalsgist, not ai product developer: . . . As we now know, the selection s f one of

aur experimental vaeeines for eom~nereialtnanufacture and field testing strbsequently became a matter of urgent, humanitarian. concern, . . . This transformation sf a scientific worker into a product developer was most unusual, Tt happened because of the unique nature af the given situation, but was not planned or plotted or looked -Forward to, nor could it have been. (quoted in Garter 1965,673

The actual course of the wccirration pmgram was not at all smoolh, Much debate ensued a b u t wbHher the testing had used double-blind studies, a common sciendfic procedure to ensure greater reIiability that coltid, howeve& pose practical and ethical problems. SaXk initially wanred to be able ta revaccinate if a certain batch of vaccirre showed unsatisfactory results. And he was concerned about g i ~ n placeba g shots to children who would then receive no immunity againfi comirtg down with parafytic polio. In an emotional letter the president of the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis, Salk elren questioned the use of

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placebo controls as ""a fetish of orthodow" "that "would serve to create a beautiful epidemiologic experirnerzt. . , . but would make the humanitarian shudder and would make Hippocrates turn over in his grave.'' He attacked what he cansidered "false pride based upon values in which the worship of science irrvulves the sacrifice of humanitarian principles on the altar of rigid methodolo13y3'"arter 1965, 192)* fn April 1954, shortly before the field test, foes of Salk's project enlisted the aid of another Broadway columnist, Wafter WincEzell, who announced: In a few moments 1 will report an a new polio vaccine-it may be a killer! . . . The National Foundation for Infantile Pardysis plans to inoculate one million children . . . with a new vaccine this xnonth. . . . The U.S. Public Health Service tested ten batches of this new vaccine [and] found (X am told) that seven out the ten contained live (not dead) polio virus. . . . The natne af the vaccine is the Salk vaccine, (Carter 1965,232)

This led many parents to withdraw from the 1954 vaccination test. Despite the weraH success, one defective batch of vaccine produced by Cutter Laboratories almost undid the whole program, GrltterS vaccine, made wirhortt all of Salk's stringerlt controls, caused at least t w hunAre$ and fifty cases of paralysis and eleven deaths. Despite the lack of problems among most of the five million children vaccinated with a commercial vaccine after the success.fu1 field trial, the surgean general announced in May 1954 that vaccinations would be suspended until safety checks cauld be made on all vaccine supplies. The vaccines produced by Parke, Davis, and Eli Litly were, however, released as safe a few days later. This suspension caused considerable conf~~sion-parem feared both having their children vaccinated and not having them vaccinated. There had always been much competition in the race to develop a polio vaccine, and SaZkS version, despite its general success, was relentlessly altackczd by virologists who believed that only an attenuated livevirus vaccine could be safe and effective. SaiiKs archfoe was Albert Saibin, who fought unceasingly for a live vaccine. SabinSsresearch in 1935 indicared that polio vims only grows in nervous tissue, but this conclusion depended on use of an atypical strain, I f he had tried other strains, he might have been the first to dewlop a polio vaccine, Sabirr continually expressed doubrs about Sal& project. In June 1953, less than a year before Salvs successful field test, Sabin stated Aatly before am AMA (American Medical Association) audience that "a practicable vaccine for paliomyelitis . . . is nor now at hanct." He went on to express the objective of polio research as he saw if:

To imitate what nature does -Far 99 to 99.9 percent of the papuiation but without incurring the one in a hundred to one in a thousand risk of paralysis which in many parts af the world is the price for acquiring i poliomyelitis. . , , the ultimate goal for the prevention of psXio~nyelitisis immunization with "livingnavirulent virus which will confer ixrtmuniq for: many years ar for life. (quoted in Czarter 1965,179---.lO)

Salk rejected the idea that a "natural" vaccine must be superior to one using an artificial killed virus. He sarcastically referred to his own "heresy" as the belief that a killed vaccine corlld "contain the magical life force of the natural disease" "(196). Sabirl lost his initial fr&t against the vvidespread use of the Salk vaccine but later triumphed, at least with the medical establishment in the United States, In 1959, Sabin's live-Grus vaccine was tested on millions in Russia and Eastern Europe, Though there was some mistrust of the results of testing in csmmunist countries, by 1960 Sabin's vaccine had become widety accepted, and it was licensed for use in the United Sraes ir-r 11961, The live-virus vaccine was easier to administer (orally ir-r sugar cubes) and was supposed ta be safer and to confer longer-lasting immunity; But for Sabin "the church bells did not ring. . . . No proposals we= made for Sabin dimes. There was no presidential citatian or any of the rest af the cansnization syndrome that had greeted Salk, The people had g r o w wearqr of polio heroes" (Hein 1972,142'). Sabink vaccine never had a disaster like the defective Cutter batch of the Salk vaccine. But by Tune 1964, there were 123 c a e s of pairalpic palio "associated" with the Sabiin vaccine-the paralysis had appeared within 30 days of receiving it. Sabir-r'swccine gained rhe suppo" of f i e U.S. gwernment and most af the medical establishment despite the fact that SabiinS vaccine continued to cause some cases of paraly-tic polio, whereas Salk's vaccine, where used exclusively as in Scandinavia, resulted in total eradication sf the disease. SaXk and his supporters charged that the decision to use Sabink vaccine was treasonabl able" and based on commercial and political considerations rather than on scien, over the relative advantages sf Salvs killedtific e ~ d e n c eControversy virus vaccine versus Sabin's live-virus vaccine continues to this day, Sabin's oral vaccine, hough preferred in the United States as more effective and easier to administer than Satk's injected vaccine, can cause, rarely, paralytic polio if the attenuated Grus mutates, Since in the United Sca~esby 1979 only ten cases of paralvic polio contracted from the vaccine were reeol-dled, the risk of getting polio &am the Sabin vaccine had become gfeaer than the risk fram not beirlg vaccixlaed. For this reason, childmn in the United States now are first i~ljectedwith the Salk vaccine and later receive the araE Sabin vaccine. The World Health. Organization

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declared that polio would be eliminated by the exld of 2000, making polio the second disease vanquished by vaccinal-ion, the first being smallpox, eradicated worldwide in 197'7.

Scientific Research to Combat AIDS In 1981, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control mceiived reparts of rare rypes of pneumonia and cancer observed in a grorrp of p u n g gay men, The cases were unusual because these particular diseases attack people with much weakened immune systems and for the individtxals in these cases, no cause of immune failure was evident. These reports were the first indication of the emerging worldwide AIDS epidemic. The label "GRID", standing .for gay-related immune disorder, was initially used for the disease, but in July L982 a meeting ofvarious irzerested groups arld government officials came up with the name Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome, with the acronym AIDS, As now general@understood, AIDS is the advanced stage of HIV [human immunodeficiency virus) infectisn, which reduces the number of T-4 helper cells needed to activate the immune response to disease agents, Sickness and evenmal death result from a cluaer of oyporlunistic infections. AIDS proved to be progressive and transmissible, with nu recovery; little treatment, and no cure. The Mrorld Health Organization reported 13,000 cases of AIDS w o r l d ~ d in e 1985. By 1990, the figure increased ta 400,000, Althsugh the number of deaths from AIDS in the United States fell from 49,351 in 1995 to 1&,(34"1"n1998, the rate sf decline has since sfswd. Mrorld~demany millions have died from AIDS, with devastaCirlg epidemics continuing in Africa, Raberf Galla, a physician working at the National Cancer Institute, shares credit for discovering the virus that causes AIDS, but not \ruithauxt contrrrversy and even charges of Raud. Me began by studying connections between certain cancers and animal retroaruses. First discovered in 19'2%by Bavid Baltimore and Wowad 'Fernin, a retrovirus must first convert its RNA into DNA by reverse transcription before reproducing, Mrorking Mrith a team sf Japanese researchers, Gallo found r e t r ~ ~ r u s e s linked to human Tcelt leukemia (labeled HTLV- 1 and HTLV-2). m e n he learned that MDS was marked try T-cell deficiency, he conjectured that AIDS might be caused by a virus similar to HTLVS, which attack the irnmune system of leukemia patients, Meanwhile, at the Pasteur Institute in Paris, immunologists familiar with Galla's work on HTLV concluded that a retroarus was a likely cause of AIDS, Luc Montagnier succeeded in isolating a retravirus, which he labeled LAY from an AIDS patient. He irrformed Gdlo of his discovery and sent him a sample of LAV Galla suggested that they both publish.

papers in Science, Their articles appeared together in May 1983, with Gallopspaper receiving most of the attention. The abstract to Montagnier's paper, added by Gallo, identified the Fxne-h ~ r u as s similar to his HTLV In April 1984, before Gallo had plxbtished his further findings on HTLV, President Reagan's secretary of health and human services, Margairet Heckler, announced, "The probable cause of AIDS has been bund to be a variant of a k n o w human cancer virus, cdled HTLV-IXI. . . . Today we add another miracle to the long honor roll of American medicine and science. , . .Those who have said we weren? dosing enough have not understood how sound, solid, significant medical research proceeds" (quoted in Epstein 1996, "12). The award of an exlusive patent for Gall& blood test provoked an angry response from the Pasteur institute* Mantagnier argued that GaXlo's test was based an the virus that he had sent GalXo and that his virus MY' was distinct from the HTLV family, The Pasteur Institute sued the U.S. government, In 1987, President Reagan and President Chirae of France signed an agreement splitring the royalties Eor the commercial antibdy test, with 80 percent of the proceeds to go to an AIDS research foundation. Bath GaElo and Montagnier would be cited in the patent, The Intern~ionalCommittee an the '2:nmnomy ofViruses decided that a new name, distinct from HTLV-I11 or LAY was needed.. Henceforth, the AIDS-causing virus was called HIV: Callo had achieved fame within the scientific community-as meathe ~ sured by his 36,"18 citations irr the scientific Iitemture of the 1 9 8 0 ~ most of any scientist during the decade, But his hypothesis that ""HTLVXI may be a primav cause af AIDS" was mistaken. W e n it became clear that Galls's HTLV-If1 virus must have been derived front Montagnier's MY, there were charges of fraud.,Even Gatlo had finally to cancede that he had actually discovered Montagnier's virus. He never admitted to any deception but was faulted for not mentioning that his lab had failed in repeated attempts to find HTLV in the samples ham AIDS patients they had been studying. The complexity of the diseae process rnade the claim t h r HiV was the cause of AIDS controversial. The symptoms af AIDS generally develop only years after exposure to HXV The vims causes sickness and death only indirectly it weakens the immune system, which allows diseases that are generally kept in check by the body's ddeknses to flourish and kill. The infection is peculiady insidious because HXV reproduces usirrg the very cells of the immune system that is designed to conlbat infectiotxs agents, This process is analogous to the Mafia infiltrating and taking control of the very police agencies designed to combat them. H lW uses a clever adapation-with n a s consequences ~ for human beings. Because the virus causes no etinical symptoms .for a long period, up to

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ten years, during which it is transmissible, HIW infections are difficult to keep from spreading in the population. AIDS was originally defined by an operational definition: presence af uncommon disease in a person 6 t h no k n o w cause for the reduced resistance to that disease, Mope for effective control of the AIDS epidemic hinged on finding a specific agent, like a ~ r u sas , the cause, Medicine tradi"EonalXy establishes the ""primary cause" of a disease by using '"Koch's postulates'' [afi-er Robere Koch, German bacteriologist who discovered the bacteria causing tuberculosis and cholera). The purported agent must be universally associated with the disease, it must be isolated and grown in culture, and when irrjected in a susceptible animal, disease results. m e n such an agent is found, the disease may then be defined by presence sf the agent*Smallpox and polio have clearly defined primary causes, but the agent cause of Af DS was more elusive, The requirement for demonstratirlg AIDS in lab animals could not be satisfied for many years. Resistance to accepting HIV as the cause of AlDS has persisted largely because of f i e efforts of Peter Duesberg, a biochemist wllo came to rhe United States to join the Department sf Molecular and Cell Biology at BerkeXey. He achieved eminence for his work on the structure of retroviruses and his discovery of the first oncogene (cancer-causing genes), The NIH gave him an Outstanding Investigaitsr Award in 1986, and he was elected into the prestigious National Academy of Science. Because of his eminence, his dissent from PfIV as cause of AIDS attracted much attention, especially in the media. Duesberg found it implausible that a retrovirus would cause an illness like AIDS. He saw a multiplicity of causes and revefled to the immune overload idea. He even offered to be inoculated with HEY though he never was. Duesberg questioned the motivation of those holding HlV as the cause of AIDS: ""Callo stands to make a lot of money from patent riglrts on this virus. His entire reputation depends on this Ir;irus'"qusted in Epstein 1996, 113). Gallo retorted thal- Duesberg shouldn't be taken seriously-he had no expertise in AIDS or in medicine generally-he's just a chemist. Members af a Commission s n the HIV Epidemic: complained that Duesbel-g was confusing the public by going o ~ s i d scientific e circles, This charge was in turn attacked In a Wall Streetbwrnul piece as both condescending and "faintly sinister" "pstein 1996, 120). Until a cure or preventative vaccine, the ""debate that wouldn't die" continues, In a molecular biologist Walrer Gilbea argued that British W documen~~lv, the debate was actually healthy; "one af the underpinnings sf democratic theary,'We a w e d that "the great lesson of history is that knowledge develops through the conflict of vietnry>oirrts,that if you have simply a consensus ~ e v vit; generaEly stultifies, . . , (11.1: depends on the existence

of critics ta break up that iceberg and to permit knowledge to develop" (quoted in Epslein 1996, 130). The consensus of sBentifrc judgment is that the agent causing AIDS is HIV, but supporters af Duesberg, those suspicious of GalXo after his mistaken identification of HTLV-111 as the AIDS virus and those who tend to distrust ofihodox science in general, have kept the controversy alive*Until details af the development sf HfV infection into AIDS are better txnderstood, the precise causal role of HIV wil be open to question. In epidemislom, which is concerned with the incidence sf disease in populations, diseases are associated with predisposing conditions as well as agents that trigger the disease, In the early 1980s, immune overtoad as a product of the lifestyle of gays was suggested as a cause of AIDS*Medical science tries to study such causes of disease without making judgments of morai blame, but the public often does make such judgments, In a poll by the Los Angeles Times in 1987,27percent agreed with the statement that XIDS is a punishment God has given hsmosexuals fbr the way they liw" [Her& and Ghnt 19881, Before HIV m s g-enerally agreed to be the cause of AIDS, there were marry hypotheses: a cantaminant introduced by smallpox or polio vaccines prepared from monkey tisstle, arrd even genetic engineering fostered by the CM (Epstein 1996,96). Despite all that has been learned about the disease, there remains mistrust of the informalion about the disease from government, health officials, and scientists, Before the development of modern medical science, plagues were commonly blamed on some maliciaus accult farce or explained as punishment for the practices of some grolxps, and this tradition has not entirejy died out, In the United States, AIDS has primarily affected certain segments of the population: g q s and drug users who share infected needles, Accurate information is required to combat rxrmecessary fears. HIV is, acceding to all the evidence, very difficult to spread by casual contact, but it i s difficult to allay people's fears. Although no cases have been observed in which HIV has been transmitted other than by sexual corltact or from blood, many parents do not trust the assurance that a child with AIDS poses little s r no threat ta other children in. a classroom. AIDS research became a growh ir-rdustry In 1984 the Natianal Cancer Institute sponsored a special task force on AIDS, directed by Gallo. They enlisted, with same co;txing, financial support, and promise of big profits, Burroughs Wellcome, a sLrbsidiary of a British pharmaceutical conglomerate, ta develop drugs ta cambait AIDS. In 1985, AZT was bund, and the FDA began testing, By fall 1986,MT was made available to some AIDS patients while h a h e r testing continued. The final stage of testing was waived for AZT-though data shaLving AZT was safe and effective

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was incomplete, fn March 198'7, the FDA approved the drug. This process m s not East enough for the many thousands in tile United Sates who had already died, but by the usual standards of drug delrelopment, approval was swift. M T slowed the course of the disease but wasn? a "magic bullet'' cure. The ir-ritialcost per person of $110,000 a year seemed exorbitant, especially since AZT was developed by the government, tested at government expense, and further subsidized in its distribution. The pmcess of drug development to comba AIDS was aEected by irtfluence outside the scientific community. Activist groups lobbied for more =search directed at a cure. ln 1908, for example, a grollp of protesters gathered at the Harvard Medical School chanting "Wke here to show defiance/for what Marvard calls 'good science."'"They wanted to change to way the research was being done in order to offer mare hope for pli-euentingand curing the disease, In losing its insulation from external pressures, AIDS research has become ""lrnpure science," The problem is how to ""reoncite competing commitments to scientific autanomy and participaary democracy" [Epaein 1996,4). Judging scientific disputes has become more like a jury trial t h r calk in expert witnesses. W o is the most credible authority?"As a result sf this change, the public has less confidence in scientific expertise, which t h ~ a t e n to s undercut the distinction between science and pseudoscience. Scientific research t o d q is rarely conducted by ai lone scientist pursuing reseaxh according to his or her o m intellectual interests, Scientists rypically work on team projects, often .funded by the government or by grants from other pawerfutl instimtions, whether public s r private. Some research, especially in medicine, is comp1icr;tted by falfing under the supervision of more than one government agency Social, political, and economic considerations tpiedly enter into decisions on what research to finance and how to conduct it, Sometimes these become matters for pubtic debate and controversy MDS research was corlducted very much in the public eye and was influenced particularly by actigse in groups affected by the illness, Clinical trials that may affect people's lives bring in considerations beyond tescing scientific hyporrheses-they raise questions of human rights and the values inwlved in estimating costs and benefits. AIDS research has been both a victory and a defeat for biomedicd science. h with polio, great eEorts wre mounted by scientists, u\iitlz support and pressure from government and society at large ta counter the epidemic, but AIDS proved a more difficult case, Ifonas Salk tried his hand at developing an AIDS vaccine with kilted-virus, but this method didn't work with HIV as it had with polio.) The expertise sf immunologists and virologists has been strained in seeking to understand and control AIDS. A reliable antibody test for the infection was .found rather quickly, but it was more dificulr to trace the ~ r u cause. s There has been

partial success in finding meliorating treatments and preventative measures. But science has failed to find a cure or a preventative vaccine. W e n President Clinton in 199"Tet a target .for finding an AIDS vaccine by 2007, Gal10 responded soberly: "'There is a serious possibility that we will never develop a vaccine for HlV"

7.2 Practical Technology and Science Watt:Science and the Steam Engine A famous example of a technological innovation that was directed toward practical utility but also stinlulated the develvmerzl: of theoretical science is the steam engine. Tames Watt (1"T3-1819) is often described as the inventor of the steam engine, although what he actually did was to effect a crucial improvement on previous designs. He was more of an engineer than a scientist by sur definition (see 3.11, but the development of efficient power technology was a crucial Eactor. in the fxldrtstrial Revolution, and it marked the beginning of greater ixlteracriun between scientists and inventor-engineers. Burn near Glasgow in Scotland, WaE displayed technical aptitude early in lifee,making models irr his fatherS workhop. Since a university education was financially out of the question, he planned to earn his iiving by designing and constructing mathematical instruments. Afrer a year's training in London, Watt became an irlstmment maker for Glasgow University This was not a paid position, but he was permitted to set up a shop within the university*and thus he was already in business on his own account (an early example of ""enterpriseculture" in an academic institution!), He was nat a purely profit-seeking entrepreneur, however, for when he invented an ingenious apparatus for drawing in perspective, he failed to patent it, and his London competitors copied it, An early b r m of steam engine had already been deveiaped by Newcomen. When VVatt was asked, in the course of his work at Glasgow, ta do some repairs on a mode1 of this form of engine, he soon realized that the reason it consumed so much steam was that the cylinder was heated and then cooled down again with every stroke of the engine, Crucial to this insight were certain elments of very recent scientific theory that he had learned .from Joseph Black, the professor sf chemistry at Glasgow Universitry;fn particular; the concept of latent heat implied that it takes a ceaain amount of heat input to convert: water irrta steam, even though the temperature of the water is nst thereby raised. The solution to the engineering proMern-said ta have occurred to Watt during a Ijunday walk on Glasgow Green-was to add a separate chan.lber in wllich the steam could be condensed without cooling the main cylinder,

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The route from technical ideas to indtxstrial application was far from smooth, however. Llian immediately began trying to construct models in his workshop, a long, .frustrating process sf trial and error, He had no capital resources to set up full-scde engines, so Black put him in touch with a Scotlish industrialist named Roebuck, who went into paanership with Watt. Financial success did not smile s n them, and Roebuck went bankrtlpt in 1775. Watl was then forced to earn his living in other ways, and for years he m s employed on land surveying for canals in Scotland. The industrial production sf Watt" improved steam engine was eventually undertaken by Matthew Boulton of Birminghm, who formed with Watt one of the most slxccessful business partnerships of all time. Boulton had the capital, commercial sense, and self-confidence, and Watt suppf ied technical expertise and .fertility of inven tian, The new steam engine was patented, and Baulton and Watt eventually became rich hom it. The royalties were figured as a percentage of the cost of fuel s which required exact calcusaved in comparison with p r e ~ o u engines, lations of their olxtput and efficiency. To this end, VVatt invented a variety of measuring devices and introduced honepo~ueras a unit of measure, With a clear eye to their profits, Boulran and Watt resisted the development by others of the newer high-pressure form of steam engine as long as their patents were valid (until 1800).They had to take legd action to defend their existing patent against infringement, During a visit to Paris, French chemist Claude Louis Berthollet (1748-1822) told Mratt of a bteaching prscess involving chlorine. When Watt suggested that the process should be patented for its commercial value in the textile industry Berthollet is said to have replied, " W e n one loves the sciences, one doesn" need a fortune" (Gillispie 1976, wl. 14, 197).As we shdl see in Chapter '7, the profit motive does not always sit easily along-side pure scientific curiosity Watt%forte was making useful inventions, but he did have some interest in science itself, At Glasgow*he had learned some chemistry from Black, for whom he performed experiments in his early days, Though he n w r became an academic scierltist doing basic research, he joined the Lunar Society, the most famous of a number of provincial associations of scientists, inventors, doctors, and businessmen that flourished in England at the time of the Industrial Revulution. His interest in chemistry was rekindled by the work sf Priestley (see 5-21, who was also a member of the Lunar Society In 1783, \nJatl made the prescient sttggestian that water was not an element but a compamnd. (Lavoisiergets the main credit for this, since he actually specified the composition of water as H,O.) We can plausibly speculate that if circumstances had been different, if a university education had been possibie for him, VVatt could have become much more of a scientist, instead sf or in addition to being

a great inventor-engineer. Btxt social circumstances bent his talents and eff0rt.s in the directian of usefulness to irrdustry Mratt's invention of a mare efficient steam engine led to more fundamental research in the theory of heat (see the discussion of Rumford in the folfocvirlg section and of Glbbs in Chapter 4). TIle science sf tlrermodynamics, with its general equations for the transformation sf energy, originated k m mempts to underaarad how ta get power from steam engines even mare efficiently In the 1830s, Frendl physicist Sadi Carnot (I"T9-18321, interested in, i m p r o ~ n g the efficiency of Watt's engine, developed a dzeory for calcul~ingthe maximum efficienq of converting heat into work. Thus, even though Watt himself did nett contribute to scientific theory per se, his work did focus attention an problems that gave rise to new physical theory.

Rumford Sciencefor Human Welfare Sir Benjamin Thompson (1753-1814), who became Count Rumhrd, was an American-born physicist and inventor: He had a rather more color-ful career than mast scientists, Born in Concord (originally called Rumford), Massachusetts, he married a rich widow of thirty when he was eighteen, fought with the British during the American Revolutian, became a member af the Royal Society at age twenty-two,was a member af both the French and American Academies of Science, married the vvidtaw of Lavoisier (who was herself something sf a sdentist), and was made ai caunt sf the Holy Rarnan Empire for his sew-ees to the king af Bavaria, Clearly the sources of frmding Eor his research were marzy and various! The inscription on his gravestone near Paris marks him as a "celebrated natural philosopher, renowned philanthrogist'knd remarks on "his discoveries in light and heat,'koncfuding that "his works to improve the lot sf the poor will make him always cherished by the hiends af brrtmani~""radley 196"T 21. Rumforcl is usually remembered in textbooks for inferring the equivalence between mechanical enerw and heat from the well-known phenomenon of cannons becoming hot when fired*He measured far the first time, with fair accumcy, the relation bemeen heat and m r k , In 17998,he published a paper arguing agairrst the then popular befief that heat was a sgedal substance called ""caloric."He thus anticipated the kinetic theory of heat, which was not accepted by the scientific community until nearly a century later. But he spent much sf his time on applied science and technolom. Living up to the inscription an his grave, he was a protific inventor of deGces that have contributed gready to more conlformbie living. h o n g his inventions are the first effective; photometer, an eficient fireplace, the sofa bed, and the drip coffee maker!

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Count Rumford was highly ambitions. He gained a reputation as a careerist and adventurer, in some respects anticipatirzg contemporary scig to governentists who travel around gathering honors and g i ~ n advice ments and industry We became wealthy and rather famous in his time, but he newr task a cent for any of his inventions, VZlorking for the king of Bavaria, he rehrmedl the army and experimented to find more effeetiw insulating clothing for the soldiers, In another of his pmjects, Rumford experimented with animals to test ideas on nutrition and concocted what were called "Rumford soups" that became famous throughout Europe. He was far ahead of his time in applying systematic social planning, developing, for example, the first significant public works program in Bavaria, sohing the problem of the numerous beggars and thieves roaming the streets, A statue in Munich proclaims his idea that ""r make vicious and abandoned people happy it has generally been supposed necessary first to make them virtuous, But why nst reverse rhe order? W y not make them happy and then ~ r t u a u s ? " One of Rumfor-d's most important contributions to the development of science vvas founding the Royal Institution of London, dedicated to ""bringing .forward into general use new inventions, and improvements, particularly such as related to the management of heat and the saving of fuel and to various other mechanical contrivances, by which domestic comfort and economy can be promoted," Like the alder Royal Society (see 1-21,the Royal fnstittxte also supparted theoretical science, Xr provided the labsratories in which cherrlig Sir Mumphrey Davy (1778-1829) and his protege, the great experimenter Michael Faraday (1"191-91863, made their important discoveries and still carries on the tradition of public discussion of science today

Carver Scientific Agn'culture George Washingon Carver (1864-29431 is often not included in biographies of scientists, but he has some importance as an innovator in the application of scientific thinking to practical problems in agriculmre, Born a slave in Missouri toward the end of the Civil Mrar, Carver rose to become something- of a folk hero by applying science to agriculture Tor. the betterment of poor black farmers in the h e r i c a n South. He and his mother were abducted fiom the Cawer family by slave rustlers when he was only a few months old. His mother was never heard of again, but his wrier; Moses Carver, got the infarlt Geetrge back by trading a $300 racehorse for him, The childless Cawers adopted him and his brother after the slaves were freed in 1865. Cawer was not allawed to attend the focal all-white school, but he did go to an elementary school for blacks in another town. When he was

aborlt f o u r ~ e nhe , traveled to the Mdwest, taking odd jobs and always seeking to frtrther his education. m e n he was went.y, he tried to enrol1 in a small Presbperian college in Kansas. He was accepted by mail, but upara arriving at the college, he discovefed thal it did not acimit black as sudents. This discouraged him from seeking further education for several years. In 1890, he was encouraged to apply to Sirnpson College in Iowa to study ark having s h o w promise as a painter, 'Fhough lmking a high scbool diploma, he finally got accepted as the second black sudent to attend Simpson. Learning af his love for plants, ane sf his teachers suggested that he transfer to the agricultural college of Iowa %ate Universiq at Ames. As the only black on campus, he faced a considerable struggle to be accepted, but his personal charm and devmion to his studies eventually won him many friends. He excelled in botany and horticulture, His senior thesis, ""Pants as Modified by Man," was innovative for the time in its suggestians for using hybridization to select desired features sf plants. After graduating, he taught keshmazn biology at Ames and happened to have as an appreciaive student Henry Wallace, who later became secretary of ngriculturc. under FranWin Roosewlt, African-American educator Booker T. Washington, .founder sf the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, asked Carver ta become its director of agriculturat research. Carver accepted a h r rejecting better ofkrs elsewhere, He described at the time what became his lifelong guiding principle: "It has always been the one ideal of my life ta be of the g r e s e s good to the greatest number of 'my pesple' possible and to this end I have been preparing myself h r these many years; .feeling as I da that this line of education is the key to unlock the golden door of fxleedom to our pesple" "uofed in McMurry 11981). Carver has sometimes been criticized for being too much a minion af the white community and not active enough in pmtesting violations of the rights of African Americans, He felt, h o w v e ~ that he could make his best contribution by raising the economic: status sf blacks through practical education. To impart knowledge of the sciences of agriculture seemed to him the greatest contribution he could make to his people, and he devoted his whole life to this task. In 1902, he published a pamphlet entitled "The Need of Scientific Agriculture in the Souttl'" that outfirled rhe ecological problems of the small farmers and exhibited a faith in progress through science that was at its height at the turn of the centusy; Carver constructed a makeshift laboratory, making do with very meager resources, to conduct experimen ts on how to raise agricultural productiGty. He developed programs ta help small farmers make effective use of their land, persuading them to diversiQ their crops and to use soil-enriching sweet potatoes and peanuts in place of cotton. Then his attention turned to finding how to

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earact or produce useful products from these crops, making, for example, vinegar, molasses, and rubber from sweet putatoes. He became known as the "Ranut Man" on account of the more than three hundred products that he spthesized from them-dyes, paste, soaps, and so on. Due ta his research, peanuts-once a rarefy cultivated commodity-became the South's second-largest cash crap, Carver never attempted to pro& personally from his discoveries; although Ire received offers to join irlventor Thoznas Edison and automobile maker Henry Ford-wiih great increase in salary-he turned them down. (He did work with Ford an extracting rubber from goldenrod.) Josepkr Stalin even inGted him to supervise cotran planting in the Soviet Union, but he suck to his project of helping the lot of poor black in the South, carver"^ simple but sound methods for increasing agricultural.productivity W Q U I I ~ probably have been more eRective than Bofixzz LysenkoS pseudoscientific programssee 9.2) During the 1920s, Carver went to various colleges on lecture tours sponsored by the Commission on Interracial Cooperation and the YMCA and in his quiet way made peaple more aware of racial injustices. His efforts improved the living conditions of many sharecroppers, and he bec m e a source of inspiraion to African Americans, Linda McMurry, in Carwr: Scienlia and Symbol, her excellent book George W~sl%iuzgmn summarized his greatest cantributisn as having made ""science seem more human and understandableF"(vii). Camer's concept of sustainable agriculture and renewable resources was ahead of his time. His advocacy of organic fertilizers and ""naturalF'methods anticipated ideas that only became prominent more than half a century later. One of his principles was that nature wastes not. By applying human intelligence, he believed, natural resources could be used without waste and degradation of the enviroment. Lectures such as "Does Scientific AgricultLlre Pay?'' eexpressed a point of view more cornmonty associated with cantemporary naturalists and ecalogists than with agricultural engineers. He had a holistic view of nature. m e n asked how he colxld have throrked on so many diffemnt things, be replied that the projects really were not different, quoting Alfred Lard Tennyson's famous poem ""Flower in the Cmnnied Wall": I hold you here* mat. and ail, in my hand, Little flower-but if l coutd understand Whatyou are*root and all, and all in all, I should k n ~ t what u God and man E's.

That was, he commented, the kind af truth that the scientist seeks (McMurry 1981,382). In 1939, Carver was awarded the Rooselrelt Medal

with the citation: "To a scientist humbly seeking the guidance of God and a liberator to men of the white race as well as the black.'"

Haber: Chemical Weapons and Gold from the Sea The story of Fritz Haber (1868-1934) is that of a brilliant German chemist trying to be of service to his country in peace and in war, with very mixed results. Haber rose ta scientific eminence in late nineteenthcentury Germany where the eftleient organizaion of scientfic educatian had become a model for the rest of the world, In the early lSUOs, he solved the problem of how to spthesize m m o n i a from nitrogen and hydrogen, by using high temperature and pressure and an iron catalyst* This discovery was of more than academic interest, for agriculture was becoming increasingly dependent on the use of fertilizers,whose essential canstiruent was '"firred" @hemicallycombined) nitrogen, This crucial ingredient could be found in natural sources such as bird dung (guano) or nitrates from the Chilean desert, but the existing supplies were rapidly being used up, Nitrogen is present in the air in vast quantities (making up more than three-fourths of the atmosphere), but it is useless in pure form to most organisms, t-iaber showed how nitrogen could be extracted from the air, and for this work he received the Nobel Prize in 1919. But it was one thing to do this under cantrolled conditions in the laboratory and another to find a way of doing it on an industrial scale. The engineering problem was solved by Carl Bosch, so the method is now k n o w as the Haber-Bosch pmcess. Haber himself was fond of explaining the superiority that the German chemical industry had attained over its British counterpart, He remarked that the English social system hindered the useful application of science because industrialists aspired to be leisured gelliemen and did rzot take science seriously, whereas in German industry, scientists were given a leading role (Crowher 1941,501). German organization and efficiency were also applied to the funding af scientific research, In 29 J l, the Kaiser Withelm Gesellschaft, a society specifically for the pmmotion of research, was founded. It was neither a university nor an agency of the state, and it had no responsibility for teaching. The money for its aperatian was subscribed initially by bankers and industrialists, which enabled it ta pursue its own policy independentty sf the state (despite its imperial title). From its beginning, the society followed a policy of building its ""istitutes'kairsurzd an eminent scholar, Two series of these institutes were set txp, in theoretical and in applied science. Haber m s invited to become director of the Institute far Physical Chemistry and Electrochemistrly at Dahlem, near Berlin, He

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was to remain there, very much the king of his own scientific castle but also a loyal servant of Cerrrlarly, until nearly the end of his career. Three years after this confident beginning, World War I broke out, and Haber immediately gut himself and his institute at the s e r ~ c of e the War Minisey, ffis previous discovery of how to synthesize ammonia turned aut to be the salvation af his country in the first year of the war, Initially; the German high command had thought that its forces colxld win within months, but by the end of 1914, the opposing armies were bogged down in the trenches, and it became apparent that they were in for a long slog, Nitrates were urgently needed for fertilizers, but the British naval blockade had cut off shipping lines to Chile, where guano was usually collected. tf it had not been for the Haber-Bosch process, Germany might well have run aut of food, Nat that Haber had foreseen all this ten years eaE-Xie~; but he obGously was well aware of the economic importance of the process; his interest in it was heled by more t h m pure curiosity Haber's scientific expertise was soan put to direct military use. The German high command consulted him about the possibility of new weapons, and he tried out chlorine gas as an irritant to drive enemy troops out of their trenches. The gas was first used in April 1915 atwres;, with more success than the local German commanders expected; they were not prepared to exploit the gap created in the opposing front line. But subsequent trials showed the gas to be a clumsy, double-edged weapon, for the prevailing ~ n d tended s to bEaw it back onto German lines, Gas masks for German personnel were thus needed, and Haber was soan working an that problem, too, He was appointed chief sf chemical warfitre in 1916, having already, tn his gwat pride, been made a captain irr the army Me proceeded to develop phetsgejtle and then mustard gas, which tended to disable s r kilt-which it did to thousands of unfortunate infantvmen. He managed the production ~ t hishusual efficiency and many thousands of tons of poisonous gases were used. Clearly he put all his expertise and e n e r g into the service of the German military; without any hesitation or scruples, But it seems that his wife disliked the whole idea so much that she committed suicide during this time, while Haber pressed s n with his military work. tlaber was profoundly shaken by the German defea in 1910. The victorious Atlies cited him as a war crirmlinal for having invented gas warfare. Coming to his awn deknse, he replied that air and submarine weapons were equally novel and deadly and that new armaments have always been condemned as barbarous until people get used to them, Germany was faced with crippling financial reparations after the war, and Haber conceived the amazing project of helping his country pay these off by extractirrg gold from the sea, This was not quite as mad as it sounds, for gold is present in seawateE; a huge amount in total, though

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very dilute, The problem was to find an economical way to carry out this scheme. He devoted much of his irrgenuity to this end, but to no avail. He was still a patriot, devoting his scientific expertise to solving his colxntry's pmblems, During the 1920s, ffaber remairled director of his institute at Dahfem, inspiring the work sf younger chemists, and had the satisfaction sf working in one of the great irlterrl~ionalcenters of science, which at that time included Planck and Einstein as members. He has been described as the mast characteristic figure and the strongest personality in Germarr science of that era: "'hard, g-enerous, Xively,"hwitfr a driving capacity for orgarlizatiefrl and resolure pursuit sf detail, dignified but with childlike vaniq, and courtly manners (Csowther 1941,4961. Habeg's world fell apart around him when Adolf Hitler came to power in 1933 and Jews were systematically expelled from his institute. Alth~tuglzhe m s part Jewish himself [which apparently was why he had not been promoted hrther than the rank of captain in the army), he was not dismissed. He felt compelled to resign on principle, howeve& in protest agairlst the appficatiefrl of a mcial criterion fur scientific employment, He left his beloved country, and before he died, he found brief rehge in Cambridge, England, the land of his former enemies, ironically enough. It took the rise sf che Nazis to make him doubt his previously unquestioned German nationalism, As a scientist who devoted so much of his time and enmgy to being rlsefrll to his country, Elaber serves as an example of h w one man's patriotism can, quite Literally be another man's poison*

Suggestions for Further Reading Bradley D. 1967. Count Rumford. Carter, R. 1965. Breaktizrough: The Sagci!of;TonasSalk, Diekinson, EL. W 1936. lames Watt. Dubos, R. T. 1950. Louis Pateur. Epstein, S, 1996. Impure Science:AIDS, Activism, and the Politics afKnowledge?, Ceison, G, 1995. 77ze Private Lqe ofLouis Pmiteur, Gillispie, C. C. 1910-1980, Dktionary ofScI"ent@eBiography Coran, M . 1967. The Story of-FriaHaber. Hall, A. R. 1962. The Seiec?ntiif;icRevolution, 150Q--I&QQ. MeNurry, L. Q. 1982 George Wmhz'ngtonCarver: Scienrbt and Symbole

All scientists are concerned ~ t money, h at least to the extent that like other martals, they have to secure the necessities of life. TCIacquire scierltiiic quatificatiorls and spend s-cIbstantial effort on scientific research, one needs time free from shopping, cooking, cleaning, and childcare. So unless a scientist happens to have private wealth, he or she needs an income. Qver and above satis1Fying their personal needs, scientists have to provide for the cost of their research-which today often involves teams of specialist scientists, technicians, secretaries, computer operators, and high-tech equipment*Since mast scientists are attached to universities and the cost of such salaries and hardware may exceed the budget of the average universiy department, much of the funding must be secured elsewhere, Thus, many scientists now find themselves spending a lot of their time preparing detailed grant applications, many of which wilX be unsuccessful, given the strength of competition and the limits of available funds, In many fields of science, it is not enough to secure a salaried university position-one must also have exceHent "'grantsman-ship,'" Wilihoul: suflicient britfiance, luck~atronage,or innuence to succeed in the competition far hnding, one may not be able to do much research in present-day science. In recent times, with the increasing dependence of scientific research on complex and expensive technology, scientists have become mare like entrepreneurs, The opportunities for joining private industry and sharing the sometimes substantial profits flowing Gam applicatiors of basic scientific research has affected the way science is done, F)articularly in bioteehnolog, some scientists have begun to patent discoveries and form companies to profit &am them, Money for frxrrding and profit has become an increasingly important influence on scientific research.

8.1 The Funding of Scientific Research The need to find f nmcid support for science is hardly a new phenomenon, Early scientists atset faced problems in securing the requisite funds to pursue their work, Admittedly; some were wealthy enough ta indulge

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Science and Money

their intellecmal interests, arzd a few like Newan w r e lucky enough to get secure and well-rewrded academic positions (see 1.2, 1.3, and 6.1). But athers had to find nonscientific employment and do their research in their spare time, Some scientists supported themselves by finding patronage, selling their expertise t s those vvtto had m o n q and pawer. From those times down to the present day, the social and political cammitments invoked in obtaining financial support have rebounded on scientists in unexpected ways. We s M l look at a variev of cases, from the seventeenth century to the twentieth,

Galileo: Consequences ofFinancial Need Galileo Galilei (1564-2642) was one of the founders of modern physics; indeed, he is sometimes described as the first modern scientist, for he developed the mathematical approach to nature that made the big break from preceding Aristotelian ideas and has been characteristic of physics ever since, He laid the basis of terrestrial mechanics, on which Newran built his great synthesis of universal gravitation. Along with Kepler and Newton, whom we considered in Chapter 4, Galites used both observational evidence and theoretical arg~xmentto suppart the sun-centered cssmology that Copernicus had proposed in the sixteenth century. For this, notoriausly; he was brought behre the Inquisition af the Roman Catholic Church, found g~xiltyof heresy; and forced to E-etmct his suppofi sf the Coperrliean system. But this muctl-discussed episode will not be central to our concern here; instead, we will look at same rrather less well known facts abaut how Galileo managed ta support himself financially. This may throw a different light m that famous confrontation between scientist and church. Galileo" father shed his son ta study medicine, but the yolxth soon developed a strong interest in mathematics and physics to the detriment of his medical studies. His mathematical talent was recognized, but his father refused to let him change subjects because of the poor prospects of earrlirrg a livirlg as a mathematician. irt 1585, Galileo abandoned his medical studies without h a ~ n gatten g a degree. He supported himselfh a few years by givillg private instruction in mathematics (and also medicd corrsultatiunsf wf.2ite using his spare time to write books on hydrostatics and motion*Tn 1589, he was given a three-year appointment as pmfessar of mathematics at the Uniitrersity of Pisa, but the position came with a very low salary-sne-thirtieth of that for a chair in medicine, (Differentials in academic salaries persist, but not quite to that extent!) Hawevex; he was ejected from his position at Pisa on the grormds fiat he fisuted converrtiuns of dress and behavior-and probably also because same were jealous of his talent, Wth the help of inflw-

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ential patrons who appreciated his mathematical genius, he was then able to secure an appointment at the more prestigious Miversity of Padua, Galileo spent much of his salary supporting his Eamlqi back in Florence. Seeking ways to supplement his income, he ofl'ered private instruction in military architecture, fortification, sureying, and mechainics to the many foreigners in Padua with military ixlteresrs, tn 1597, he devised an instrument that, for sales appeal, he called ""re geometric and military campass" far use by the artillery. He employed a cra8sm;an ta malsle these instruments in quantity (""enterpriseculture" among scientists is nothing newf). The VenHian senate was glad to use Galiles's expefiise fur its armaments, and he was happy to pick up the extra cash, Though amassing a fortune never became for him an end in itself, Galileo did desire a lwet of income thar would secttre hi131 enougfl finmcial independence to pursue his passion to understand the physical world. He was mare waridly than many sf his contemporary coHeagues and was quite aware of the potential commercial value of some of his discaveries, On hearing of rhe invention of the telescape in 1608, he worked out its principles .for himself and constructed a more powerhl instrument, which he presented to the doge (ruler) of Venice. He then demonsrated its magniQing p w e r to some senators assembled at the top af St. Mark's tower and explained how it could be used to discern incoming ships more quicklJr, an advaratage both in trade and war, He was rewarded with an increase in salary and a lifelong tenure for his professorship. After he had used his telescope to discsver the moans r e v s l ~ n g amund Jupiter; Galileo even tried ta sell the priGlege of naming them to the royally of Europe, Later, he proposed a method of determinirrg Longitude at sea (see 1 2 ) that depended a n telescopic observation sf Jupiter's satellites, He tried to peddle this idea to the rthers of Spain and Hulland but found no takers; the method was thearetically possible but not practicable for sailors, so .for a second time the moons sf Jupiter failed to increase Galileo" income. Despite having achieved a more secure financial posifion, Gnlileo was not satisfied with his situation at Padua. Like many scientists since then, he found teaching duties a burden on his time and tonged for a position that vvould free him to get on with his research. Ife also yearned to return to Florence, where he had spent his bayhood, His chance came when Cosimo de Medici, once one of his pupils and now the duke of Tuscany, offered him an appoinment as "philosopher and chief mathematician." Galileo increased his kvor with the duke by dedicating to him the popufar pamphlet Siderlus Nuncius (The Starry Messenger), which described some of the former's celestial observations. Galileo's position at Cosima's court was specially created for him and demanded

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no routine duties-the duke was rich enough to indLllge the whim of having a scientia as part of the palace retirrue, &l went we11 far a while, and at the Grand Ducal Court the arguments .for and against the new Copernican system of the throrld were excitedly discussed, But that theory differed crudrrlly horn the earth-centered cosmology inherited from AristotIe, which had far centuries been incorporated into Christian doctrine. The church also felt its authoriq threaened by Galileo's observations of the heavens, both for what was revealed and how, He claimed that the moon had mountains, the sun had spots, Jupiter had moons, and Venus had phases; these facts undercut the traditional distinction between the perfection of the heavens and the imperfect nature sf earthly pfrenomen,z. And use sf the telescope as a source sf "revelationr' Aid not require any mediation of church. authorities. Galileo was brou@t to trial befare the Inquisition Tor demxag their ban on assertions sf the sun-centered cosmology, He was eventually forced, under threat of torture, to renounce his claim that the earth moves around the sun, and he was put under house arrest for the rest of his life. The tangled history sf this confrontation with the power of the Catholic Church has been told and analyzed many times; the interpretation of the episode and same of its historical details =main cantroversid even now. We shall nor try to add ro this story here, We note snly the economic: factor-that Galileo's move from Venice to Florence in his seareh for patronage brolxght him nearer Rome and subject to the pafitical power sf the papacy and the jurisdiction of the Inquisition. Cctlileo must have thought that he was gaining for himself the freedom to pursue his research, but by accepting this particular private patronage, he acmally exposed hirrlself to polilical and religious forces beyond his control.

Why Lavoisier Ended Up on the Guillotine Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier (17443- J"1"4) is known as the father of chemistry for h a ~ n laid g the .foundations on which all present-day ehemicai theory is based. We showed that air and water are not elements [as the Greeks had thought), and he identified many of the basic, true elements such as hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. By demonstrating the role of oxygen in combustion, he effectively disproved the ptzlogimn theary of combustion widely held in the eighteenth century [see the discussion of PriestZey in 5.2). He learned from the experiments of his predecessors, such as Priestfey (scientific communication was quite effective even then), but his originality as a theoretician is clear, Lavoisier

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invented the system of chemical nomenclature for elements and compounds that has long since become standard. But he is also farnous for losing his head to the willatine in the French Revalrxtion. W shall examine here what corrnection there might be bemeen his scientific achievement and pofiticd nemesis, Lavoisier started with every passible advantage, He was the son sf a wealthy Parisian !aver, and he received an excellent scientific education at the College Mwarin, He starred on the professional path by getting himself elected as a member of the prestigious Academie des Sciences at the relaively early age of twenty-five, (The French kaderny unlike the Royni Society of Londm, had a number of governmentfunded appointments.) But his ambitions were nor: satisfied. To secure far himself the freedom that a larger incame would give, he made what seemed at the time a shrewd investment by bl,lying himself a position in the Ferme Ceneraie, which was a semiofficial I=-cullecring agency The French kings in those prerevolutionary times (later called the ancl'en rdgime) delegated the task of collecting t a e s on tobacco and salt (as well as customs duties on goods enterirlg Paris) to this private consortium, whose members were able trr line their own pockets with a slice af the proceeds, Naturally enough, members of the Ferme were not popular, fn 1775, Lavoisier's links with the regime became even closer when he was appointed a commissioner in the French Gunpowder Office and became scientific director of the state arsenal. He actually lived thin this ir-rstitutianand had the use of its considerable resources for his chemical research [another early case of military .fundingfar science), Wfien the Revolution broke out in 1789, tavoisier supparted it at first, having alrcady recognized the urgent need for reform of the old royal system in France, He even played an important role in organizing public finances under the new rwolutionary regime. But as the early hopes Tor peaceful charlge disintegrated in the face of social chaos, more extreme factions came to power, and the notorious ""reign of terror" ensued, At this stage, Lavoisier's strong associations with the instittxtions of the ancien rkgime made him a natural ubject of suspicion. He was even accused, absurdly enough, sf stopping the circulation af air in Paris, because he had had a walX built as a customs barrier! He was arrestedunder the puliticd conditions of the time, his outstanding scientific achievements were no defense*The arresting officer is supposed to have said that ""the Rep~xblichas no need of experts." Such an attitude of scorn for real science as opposed to idealow appeared again in both Nazi and Communist regimes in the twentieth century. Lavoisier was guillotined in 12'994. There could hardly be a more dramatic example of sources of funding redounding on the scientist.

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Haw Darwin Could AfSord tto Do I-lis Research We discussed Darwin's problem with Wallace regarding which of them originated the coneepr of evolution by natural selection in G. 1,The ques-

tion here is haw he could afford ta devote his life to science; the short answer is that he and his wife/ inherited sufficient private means. His father was a successfill country doctor in Shrewsbury, England, wfno thereby earned a camfortable income. Charles's mother was Susannah Wedgewood, dmghter of the hrxlous potter, who was dso quite well-off. So the young Charles m s able to foresee that his inheritance would provide him enough to live on, and by marrying his cousin Emma Wedgewoad he grew even wealthier, He could have been just ane more af a familiar twe-a Victorian gentleman of private means (supported by a dutiful wife and domestic servtznts) who could afford to indulge a tas;te far science in his long haurs af leisure (see J,3)*But he became much more than that. How did it come abolxt? Charles was sent to Edinburgh U~liversityto follow the family tradition by studying medicine (his grandfather Erasmus Darwin, also a doctar, had already speculated about evolzxtion,] But he was far from enthusiastic about medicirre, being especially put off by witnessing operations performed without anaesthetic, He much preferred prospecting for rocks around the Firth of Farth. But if he was not to follow the family medical tradition, a recogllized alrernative profession for a young gentleman af his social background was to become an Anglican clergyman, for which a prerequisite was a degree from the University of Cambridge. Darwin embarked on this course but made little of his oEcial cuniculum there, However, he persisted in. collecting rocks and beetles and smdyirlg the biological knowledge of the times, dzereby gaining the respect of gedogist Adam Sedglivick and natural historim John Menslow. It was throuE;h Henslow that Darwin came by his greatest single piece of luck, namely, the invitaion to join the circumglabril survey voyage of the British Admirally ship H.M.S. Beagltr. Captain Rubert FitzRoy wanted campany far the long trip and was prepared to share his cabin Mrith a natnralist-proGdedi that the latter was a genrleman. When the idea was put to Darwin, his first irlclination was to jump at the dlance; he llad already read the account by German explorer and naturatist Alexander von Humbotdt (1'169-1859) of a journey to South h e r i c a . But his father thought that such an adventure would be yet another time-wnsring avoidance of commitment to a proper career, Accardirxgiy; Charles wrote a letter of refusal. Fortunately for science, the senior U a M n was won over by the arguments of Charles's uncle fosiah Wdgewood, Charles rescinded his rehsal just in time ta embark on a voyage that was

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to charrge his life and the dlinkirrg of furtrlre generations, Thus, through a series of happy accidents, one of the most imporcant research grants of all time was awarded. The rest is history; as they say. The energetic yolxng D a M n started out as an amateur scientist without any oficid qualifications. But he had informally learned much from his distinguished mentors at Cambridge, and there was time on the voyage to make a carefill study of Charles e e l ' s (1797-1875) newly published Principles of Geollzgx which was sent to him en route. The fiw-year journey gave him immense amounts of new biological and geological Xinocvledg-e from the marry coastal and island visits and plenty of time to thir-rk during the sea passages, He returned as an expert in several fields with new data and new theories to report to the English scientific community. After marrying his cousin Enrma and stayirzg brieRy in Lorrdon, Charles Darwin lived quietty, almost rectusivefy, in the village of Down in Kent far the rest of his long life. Ill health handicapped him making him periodically unable ta tllnction. One diagnosis of his health pmbtems is that he had caneacted what is now hewn as Cflagas' disease from the bites of "".te black bug sf the pampas" while exploring in Argentina, Anolher srtggestiorr is that Dawin" symptoms of palpitaions, faialling, nausea, and fatigue that recurred throughout his Ilk arose from stress caused by personal problems and worry about the reception sf his work (Bowlby 1990, 45"1--46), Darwin. conserved his energies, methodically developing his theories and keeping well m y from public discussion and controversy The crucial idea of evolution by natural selection occurred to him in 1838, suddenly coming to him, he later wrote, as he read a passage in Malrhus (see 6.1) on the geometric rate af increase sf populatisns and the subsequent struggle for existence. For many years he did not publish what he realized was a vitally important hypothesis, because he was keenly aware af how much theological, social, and political controversy it wolxld arolxse, But eventually he was forced into the open by a letter from Wattace (see 6.1). His Origin oJlSpecia was published in 1859, and we still live with its reverberations, (Present-day eontrsversies in human sociobiobogy, for example, are mated directly in Damin's theories,) He accepted the obvious implication of his theov-fiat human beings, like any other living organisms, are a product sf evolution, a view that clashed with the traditional biblical account in Genesis. He went on to write a book on the expression of emotion in animals and man. Much of Darwin" work prefigures twentieth-century ecatog-y and ethology (see 10.3).

Here was a scientist blessed with two strokes of good fortune-rhe chance to join the voyage of the Beagle and amass sa much new data

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and the money to spend his tirne thinking about the implications for years afterward, Many other able scientists have not been so fortunate. As we have seen earlier in this chapter, Galileo had t s depend on patronage, and the allegedly hererica1 nature of his scientific theory put him at the mercy of I l e p w e r s sf his tirne. If Darwin hacl lived in a less tolerant society than Victorian England-or indeed, in a less economicatly privileged position wittllrt it-he could well have h n d himself in similar truuble, for his theory sf evolutian was at least equally subversive sf bath csmman sense and religious thinking in its implications about human nature. Darwin was very fortunate, but it took ail of his talents and determination to make so much of the opportunities,

Summerlin: Cheating on the Patchwork Mouse Almost every scientist nowadays is ~ ~ daware l y sf the problems af getting .funding. Money usually has to be obtained from the state, from indtxstrv; from research colxncils, or from private foundations. Persuading such institulions to back one's favored line of r e s e a ~ hmeans competing with many other applicants who are tving to A s the same thing. Projects must therefare be very carefixlty pli-esented to emphasize their scientific interest, fe-asibili~and practical usehfness, The competence of the aspiring researcher is an important factor, too, and the obvious way sf demonstrating this is by results ai;t-eadyachieved. Even after funding is awarded, its continuation is not open-ended; at some stage, progress wilt be assessed bel'ore .further support is given. In such situations, the competition to stay in the game creates strong pressure to come up with positive rttsults-or teast promising snes. The immediate motive for work can thus become not curiosity or usehlness but the need to impress the bass of the laborratory and the grant-awarding bodies, A case in point-an extreme case, but instructive nonetheless-is that af Dr. WiIliam T. SummerXin, who was caught engaging in ai bit of elementary scientific cheating in 19'74. He was a medically trained researcher working at the prestigious Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York under the d i ~ e t i s nsf Robert A. Good, The latter had widely acknowledged scientific superstar status in the highly funded area of cancer research, Direcrirrg a Inrge team of assistants, with his n m e appearing (by the usual csnvention] an each sf their papers, he had become the most-cited scientific author of all tirne, as measured by quantitative citation indices, He had even achieved the public relations coup af getting his picture s n the front cover sf Time magazine. Good had just moved from Minneapolis to become head of the Sloan-KetteringCentex; bringing with him a large retinue of scientific assiscans including Summertin, whose controversial work he had backed in Minnesota.

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Summerlin had been trflng to achieve transplants from one animal to another by nurturing the relevant piece of tissue in a special laboratory culture, He had claimed that the tissue would not then encounter the usual rejjection by the immune system of the new host, This line of research was Ijflougbt to be potentially relevant to tlnderstandirrg cancer, far the body3 immune system normally succeeds in rejecting and destroying unusual g r o ~ h swheseas , in cancer this defense mechaxrism breaks down. Any contribution to understanding how the immune system works thus looked promising. However, Summerlink claimed results mrzt contmry to werydling that was believed in immunology, and when other researchers tried to replicate rhese resulls, they did not achiew success. A rival in the same lab at Sloan-Qttering was proposing to publish some such negative results and thus throw public doubt on Srtmmerliin5 claims and was askirlg for Goods backing. Good himself was begir~ningto wonder about the v a l i d i ~ of his protkge's work, and reEations between the two had deteriorated, Summerlin later said that he was very angrly with Good, presumably because he felt that his scientific patron was ttrrrrirrg against him. One crucial morning in March 1974, Summerlin was due to present Good with the results of his latest experiments (in the form of black laboratory mice that had received skin grafts from vvttite mice). As he headed toward his boss's office in the elevator, he used a felt-tipped pen ta darken the patches of transplanted skin; such a change in color would suggest that the trmsplants had "".lken.'yhe most charitable explanation for this action is that Summerjin was trying to make the results, which he believed to be positive, look more obviorxsly so to his boss, widlout intending to fake h e essential point. But of course, any such unadmitted interference with experimental data goes Aatly against the ethics of science, Good did not notice the ink, but a sharg-eyed laboratorp assistant did, and having no pafiicular love I'or Summerlin [personal tensions exist in every lab!), the tale was rapidly brought to the ears of the boss, M e n Good called Summerlin back in, he admitted the irlking and was prompcty suspended from work, pending a full investigation. The subsequent inquiry uncovered a much longer history of sloppy; dubious, and possibly deceptive practices by Summerlin. More serious in scientific terms than the impulsiw inking of the mice was his failure to follow standard comrol procedures when trying to transplant corneas onto the eyes of rabbits, Mparendy, Summerlin had even presented certain cases as successful transplantations when no operation had been performed at all. As a result of the inquiry, he was dismissed from the Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, Rather insultingly, he was described as "emotionally disturbed" and ""notfully respansible for his actions"-as if

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the authorities were unwillixlg to accept that deliber- faking had been going on in their labs, He was given a year's leave on full salary, and he later returned to medical wark in a rural area, Good was also implicated becatxse he had gone out of his way to recruit Summerlin on the strength of his surprising claims about transplantation and had encouraged his wark elren when others reported failure to repiicate the claimed results, Good was found innocent of any misrepresentation but guilty of uverhastirless in publicizing claims he had not checked. Like others in positions of administrative power in seience, he had been too busy to oversee properly the work of those for vvfrom he was respansible and to whose papers he put his name. And it seems there we= lhose vvithin Sloan-Ke~eringwho were not tlnllappy to see their imperious, go-getting president brought down a peg or two. The prestigiotrs cancer center itself was also adverseb affected when the story of the fdsification was leaked to the media. The more perceptive scientific journalists drew wider concltxsions about the way in which science was being directed, funded, and presented to the public (at least in the United States). James VVatsonk diagnosis was that too much money and effort was being put into applied research aimed directly ta find the cause of canceE; to the detriment of basic research in biology and biochemistry which, he argued, is the only proper basis for fixll understanding and reliable cures. In the eager s e m h for practical results, publicity was being given to sensational h t unconfirmed claims, In the competition to gain and retairl frrnding, junior scientists like Summerlin were under undue pressure to produce quick results and could thus be tempted to fake their work,

8.2 Profiting from Science Scientists since Galileo's time have taken opportunities ta make money from applications of their work, In modern capitalist economies, it is quite common for reseazh that has an intrinsic intellectual fascination also to promise considerable personal or institutional profits to those who can make a breakthrough and patent it first. The profit motive-in some cases, the lure of immense ridres-can change the normal academic way of conducting scientific research, as we shall now see.

The Curies' Refusal to Make Profits kcording to what now seems an old-fashioned tradition, it was often thought unethical for scientists to profit personally from their discoveries. A very clear example of hi&-minded refusal to make money from scientific research was set by Marie and Pierre Curie, Soon after their

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identification and separation of the previously unknown radioactive element radium [see 5.1),it was realized that the new substance could have medical uses in the treatment sf tumors and certain forms af cancer, and sa there was an irxlrnediae demand to prodttce it irt larger quaxrtities. At this stage, the Curies could have ensured Eor themselves a considerable personal brtune if they had chosen to patent their painstakingly devised technique Ibr purifying radium. But in one of the most extraordinarily selfless decisions sf a11 science, they did not do ss, despite the fact that they were not at all well-OR,had just started a family, and still lacked proper eqttipment to pursue further research, They felt very strongly that radium belonged to science, not to themselves persondly According to Eve Curie, her mother said: ""Pysicists have always published their researches completely If; our discovery has a cammercial hture, that is an accident by which we must not profit, And mditlm is going to be of use in treating disease. . . -1.1seems to me impossible to take advantage af that" "uric 1937, ,2204). Even the very vatuable gram of radium thal they labored sa hard to produce at their own expense-and that was legally their awn property-was given to the cause sf scientific research. Haw many scientists wattid follow the Curies' example nowadays? Marzq. would find them irrational in refusing to profit from their own work, But what should be the ethical and legail. constraints s n scientists? The question is not m easy one; perhaps we can throw some light on it by considering h a h e r case smdies. f-low Nobel

Got the Money for the Prizes

A sharp contrast can be seen between the Curies' attitude and that of M fred NabeiI (1833-1896). Because of inventions such as dynamite, Nobel

amassed an immense fortune, which provided the endowment for the Nobet Prizes, For better ar far worse, these awards have became a standard measure of scientific preeminence, bath for the public and for scientists themsehs [see 6.1). According to our defirliion given in $1, Nubel barely counts as a scientist, for he did not contribute to scientific theory or make much Sterllyt to do so, But through an unorthodox education, he attained considerable competence in chemiary, and for much of his life he used this knowledge and skill ta practical effect as well as ta his o m profit. Mobet's father and brothers were inventors and arms manufacturers, and Alfred seems to have easily accepted the role af armament producer without n ~ i o n a fallegiance, prepared to sell his expertise ta the highest bidder. In addition to his precocious technical abilily; he was keenly aware of the value sf patenling new inventions as quickly as possible,

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and 355 p ~ e n t were s awarded to him in his lifetime. He got involved in severd prioriq disputes, the first of them with his own father? His first major invention-the Nobe1 patent detonator-arrived on the market in 1863. He then set out to manufrzcture nitroglycerine in the liquid form in which it was aEready known, and he founded the first limited campany in explosives. But the stuffwas highly unstable, and in 1864 the factory blew up, killing his younger brother; Emil, and four others. UndeBrred by this disater or by the Swedish government's ban a n manufacture and storage of nitroglycerine in a populated area, he proceeded with experiments on a barge. By chance, Nobel happened upon a combination of nitroglycerine oil and kiesetguhr, a kind of fossil silica, that yielded an explosive with a convenient plastic I'orm. He called this new substance ""dnamite,'knd it turned out to be his greatest invention, Nobet's explosives company grew swiftly Patents were granted on dynamite in Britain in 1867 and in the United States the following year, and soon the profits were Rowing in, Nobel" ffilrther experiments produced a more powerful version sf dynamite called blasting gelatin and, Later, ballisrite, a smokeless powder specially designed for wartime use, Factories ta malsle the explosives were established all over Eumpe; their products were used by all combatants in subsequent wars as welt as for mare constructive purposes like blasting tunnels through the Alps. Nobel rapidly became a millionaire. He devoted himself assiduousIy to the extensiorr sf his business, even after he was already very rich. Making money seems to have been one of his strangest mativations, but the other cleady was his technicd interest in new inventions, He continued experiments on silent guns, &ell fuses, propulsion charges, rocket projectiles, and so on even toward the end of his life. Not all his work was of a military nature, how eve^ Later he experimented in optics, electrochemistry, biology, and physiology, and this work contributed to the subsequent development af artificial rtlbber, leather, silk, and semiprecious stones, which are made from fused alurnina. Three years before his death, having no ctlildren, Nobet expressed a wish that his immense fortune should be used to set up a prize for the person who had taken the greatest step toward the ideal of peace in Europe, Nobelk will actually established five prizes to be awrded annually-: four " h r the most outstanding work of an idealistic tendency" in physics, chemistry, phystofow or medicine, and literature and one, the Peace Prize, "far the person who shall have done rhe most or the best work to promote fraternity between nations lFor the abolishment or reduction of standing armies and the holding and promotion of peace congresses." A prize in economics has since been added to the list. The

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prizes have long been ~ g a r d e das the most coveted [as m11 as the bestendowed) honors in science. Alfred Nobel was a researcher whose prime mativatisn seems to have been to make money, though he was also fascinated with the technical derails of his craft. For many in his time (and ours), it was an accepted practice to patent and sell new scientifically based inventions, making money from them regardless of the uses in peace or war to which they mi@t be put.

Chain'sDefense ofthe Drug I ~ d u s t r y The industrial affiliations sf Sir Ernst Chain (190G1979)sewe to underscare the mixed motivation of scientists who get involved with csmmercial matters, His father was a chemical engineer in a major German company, ss he was presumably attuned to tile irrdustriaf application of science fiam the start, Like many German-barn Jewish inteHecttnals, Chain sought refuge abroad from Nazi persecution. After studying biochemistry at Cambridge, he was recruited in 1936 irrrs Howard Ftorefs research team at the University of Oxford's School of Pathology. W e n small grants from the British government ran out, Fforey approached the Rockefeller Foundation for more s-trbsfantial funding, which supported the famous research that resulted in the mass production sf penicillin (discussed in 5.2 and 6.3). A financially significant episode in this story sccurred when Chain pointed out the necessity af patenting the production process that the 0xfoiE-dteam had developed. He realized that if he and his colleag~xesdid not do so, someone else surely would, and he argued his case vigorously with high officials af the Medical Research Council and the Royal Society, Brxt in the England of the time (unlike the Germany from which Chair1 had come), a sharp division existed b e ~ e e npure and applied science and between academia and industry Any suggestion. that university scientists might take a commercial attitude toward their work was anathema, and Cfrain was told so in no uncertain terms (how things have changed!). As a rehgee with uncertain status in Britain, he had to swaHow his pride (he w o t e afterward that he encolxntered many bitter fights on the patent issue), but his judgment m s vindicated when the British team eventually had ta pay royalties ta American companies in order to use methods they themselves had first developed. Afler the walr, Chain again found himself frustrated by the lack sf funds .for the research he wanted to As. In. 2948, he accepted an invitation to set up a new Department of BioeXnemistr3u.at the Italian State Institute of Health irr Rome, The decisive factor behind his msve seems to

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have been the promise of facilities and financial support that Britain could not offer, Once qain, Chain vvas wry much alive to the commercial possibilities of his research, For some years after the production af penicillin, it was possible to find other antibiotics by systematically sea~hirzgfur hngi and bacteria that might produce them, But as such sources began to be exhausted, the pharmaceutical companies began wondering how to develop new drugs, At this stage, the Beechams G r a y in Britain sougllt advice from Chain, and he became a consulrmt far the company He recommended trying ta make semisynthetic penicillin~,that is, chemically modified forms of the original organic cornpound with improved therapeutic puwer; Two employees of the Beechams Group came to Rome to work in Ghaids laboratory, and as a result, the British firm was able to patent several new antibiotics that proved more effective than h o s e sold by the larger companies, In 1964, Chaizi returned to England to reestablish the Biochemislry Department at Imperial College in liondon. The cost af the equipment he proposed was unprecedented in university research (except in nuclear physics), but he vvas able to use his now extensive inRuence to conjure large sums Rom sources such as the Mj'olfsan Foundation, This gave his department a financial independence that enabled him to be very much mager in his own house; staff who did nut like his style had to adjust to it or find other employment, In this position of pawer, he was emboldened to express scientifically maverick viekvs in later life, doubting the usefulness to biology of the swiftly developing research into the structure af DNA and other biological molecules, He even cast aspersions on the theory of evoltxtion itself, perhaps because of his increasing fondness b r the Judaism of his youth. Chain's links with the pharmaceutical industry were a cause of difference with those of his colleagues who continued to believe in the ""priw'bof university science, He regularly worked as an e ~ e r n aconsull tant, and his department in London collaborated closely with industry, a policy he defended vigorously in public lectures in 1963 and 1970. iixtd of course, penicillin was a huge medical success story, Althougfl worries have since arisen about overprescription af antibiotic drugs and the resultant development of resistant strains of bacteria, there can be no doubt that these drugs have gre&ly reduced human sufferirlg, In this case, the commercial incentives that motivate the pharmaceutical companies harmonized fairly well ~ r the h medical aim to promote human healch as well as with the scientific curiosity of biodlemists. In another case, h~wever,we find these motives tearing apart, with tragic consequences. In the early 1960s, a new drug called thalidomide was vigorously marketed in many countries as a harmless sedative or sleeping pill, Butt it was quite soon noticed that women who had taken it

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during pregnaracy were giving birth to grossly deformed infants, with tisrll~sso undeveloped in some cases that hands and feet appeared to grow direcdy out of their bodies. The causal connection seemed obvious from the start, for such abnormalities are very rare yet increased dramatically in just those couneies where thalidomide had been sold-and within a year of its introduction. Inter~ewswith the unfortunate mothers and their doctors or pharmacists soon revealed that they had taken the n w sedative in the early stages of pregnancy. Tn most countries, thalidomide was quickly withdrawn from cireuflation, thaugh not without complaint from the drug companies, which were reluctant to give up a promising source of profits and were extreme@reluctant to admit any causal connection or associated legal responsibility (Tn the United States, in one shining example af proper caution by the Food and Drug Administration, approval of thalidomide had been blocked because of suspicions about its safety,) The nlost determined and lengthy resistance came from the West German company Chemie Crunenthal, which had developed thalidomide in the posmar period, when there had been remarkably .few Legal controls on the marketing of drugs in Germany. When the taxicity af thalidomide became obviorxs to all except the companies, anguished parents began to demand compensation, and the matter came before the courts in many countries. This is where Ernst Chain appears in the story The most prolonged legal case, extending over several years and ending rather unsatisfactorily with an out-of-court settlement, took place in West Germany, where Chemie Grunentbal fought every inch of the way, using its considerable resources ta hire clever lawyers and expert witrlesses from the scientific community. One of these was Chain. At the trial, he dectared melodramatically that the existence of pharmaceutical science itself was threatened by the atmosphert: of suspiciorl that Ibe thdidomide controversy had caused-a remark that hardly suggests neutrality in the case. On the crucial issue of causality, Chain claimed that the clinical trials conducted before marketing thalidomide had proved its harmlessness. This was actually an even stronger line than that taken by the defense, which claimed only that there had been no definite proof of toxicity Under cross-examination, he was forced to say that a causd relationship, in the strict sense on which he was basing his arguments, did not exist elren in other cases where the medical profession generally recognized one (for instance, beweerr diabetes and pslyneuritis). He would admit only that there were "Ir'ndications'kfa connection in such cases, Confronted with a quotation from his lecture of 1963in which he said that the malformed births were caused by thalidomide, Chain could only say that the lecture was nemr intended to be used as eGdenee, and (incredibly for such a

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strong-willed man), he suggested that he had been influenced by the press. He went on, in what seems to have been mere bluster, to aver that from what he knew of the pharmaceutical industry, investigations were carried out with the utmost precision. He also claimed that he had k n a m Dr. Muekter (the scientific director of Chemie Crunenthal, who had resisted advlice to withdraw thalidomide from the market) for ten yeas, Wisely, the court decided that the standard of prucrtf of toxicity demanded by Chain, which would amaunt ta mathematical certainty beyond any possibility of falsification, was far too high for legal guvases (and they could have added, fur medical and scientific practice also), The distinguished Professor Chair1 was surely involved here in a bit of special pleading .for his friends in the German pharmaceutical industry. It is sad to find a scientist who had achieved so much committing himself at the end of his career to deknding the indefensible*Tlle moral surely is that since profit making easily becomes a distorting motive in science, we should be wary that it is kept thin the bolxnds of ethics and well as legatity

Gi~berl"s~ommereia~ixatE"~n of Genetic Engineen'ng

The career of W t e r Gilber~as scientist and entrepreneur e~mplifiesin a dramatic way the recent cammercializarion of molecular biolaw. In the 196Os, he applied his considerable talents to this swiftly growing field, ~ r such h success that he was appointed American Cancer Society Professor of that subject at Harvard and wan the Mabel Prize for chemistry. In the mid-1970s, gene-splicing techniques were developed that offered practical possbilities of genetic engineering-deliberately changing genes. The DNA within bacteria, for example, migfh be modified to produce usehl bisIsgical substances, Some of these substances migtlr occur nal~lrallyh t only in limited quantities (such as interferon or human g r o ~ hormone), h u\ihereas others might be new forms more suitable than the naturally occurring ones for medical, industrial, or agricultural prpases, The distinction between xademic research and applied wark was becoming wlclear, and it was ohiously Rmptirlg for scientists to make money from their discoveries, Far a long time, scientists had undertaken part-time consultancy for industrial companies or gwernmental agencies, earnirlg fees as a useful supplentlerst to their university salaries. But now many of those working at the cutting edge of molecular biology were founding small genetic engirleering companies with the help of venture capitalists. WaIter Cilbert was one of the first set this trend, being involved in the hl-matian of Biogen in 1978 and as-

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suming positions as its acting president, then chairman of its scientific board, and finally cochairman of the board of directors, The Biogen company supported Gilbert's research at Haward an the bacterial prodtxction of insulin. h I'undirrg for research became irrcreasingty hard to find, universities were tempted ta try to make a direct profit from the work af their own scientists. By 19'77 E1arvaiE-d University had an office to apply for patents arising from the work of faculy m e d e r s . Three years later, the Hnrvard administration proposed settling up a company to develop the work af one of Gilbert" rivals. The pmposal was received with a storm of protest by f a c u l ~members as well as from the press and the wider communily; The general opinion was that this move could be the start of cl: process by which universities would become almost indistinguishable from cammercial corporations, and some observers worried that the university might give special treatment to h o s e of its staff who were involved in companies in which it had a financial interest*So the idea was not pursued in that form. Instead, Giilbert's example has been ~ d e l followed. y Scienrists formed their own companies, either in some loose connection with their institutions or entirely privately But there are obGous prsblems with combirling the role of an academic scientist hired ta do teachirrg and research with that of a director aiming at financial success for a private corporation. Conflicts of interest and time are inevitable. For a while, Gilbert tried to have his cake and eat it, too, throrking as an officebearer of Biogen whije rerrrainirlg a university professor. But the Elarvard authorities could not for long tolerate him running his private company from his university office. So he resigned his chair and left the academic world to become a full-time irrdtxstriaIist. GiXbel-t3name hit the headlines again in 198"i"hen he made a breatht a k i n g ~audacious proposal to undertake rbe sequencing of the human genome as a pri\iately firzmced project. To this end, he established a new company; the Genome Carporatian, and his plan. was that the company would copyrigtlc each section of hlunan DNA as it was laboriously decoded in the company's laboratories. Any subsequent user of the information thus discovered would have ta pay a royalq to Gilbertb corporation. B- would the colxrts reca&xlizethe ~ I i d i r yof a paent or copvight that would apply not to a technical device or process but to the informalion naturally contained within human genes? Some American l a v e r s tholxgEzt so (patents on genetically engineered organisms had been allawed dready). But even if this we= legally possible, would it be morally acceptable far a private company ta make a profit from scientific knowledge? Suppose the Genoxne Corporation came up with a cure for cancer-would it then demand a fee every time the relevant genetic irrformation was used? Many people argued that. scientific knowledge be-

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longs ta humanity as a whole, not to a particular group of entrepreneurs, And it was pointed out that the basic biochemical theory and technique an which the Human Gensrne Project was based had been developed with fitnding from many plxblic bodies and medical charities. So why should one corporation be aftowed to step in at a late sage and make a killing from taking the work one step .further? The Human Genome Project is now being pursued with public funds organized by U.S. government agencies such as the National Xrlstitutes af Hedth (see 10.21, But the fact that Gifbert3 proposal was made at alland taken seriorxsly for a while-shows just how far the commercialization of science has gone.

Fteii,rckzmanrz and Poxzs: Cold Fusion and Patent Lawyers On March 23, 1989, the University of Utah held a press confemnce at which the announcement was made that one of its professors, StanEey Pons, working in collaboration with Martin Fleischmann, forrnerly of the University af Southampton in England, had induced nuclear fusion at room temperature. What they had done was to pass an electric current through palladium electrodes immersed in deuterium, or heavy water (that is, water in which the hydrogen atoms had an extra neutron in their nuclei). The claim was that as the deuteritxm atoms crowded inside the palitadium metal under high pressure, they fused into helium, releasing both neutrons and heat energy; Xf this were true, the implications w u l d be staggctrilrg, both for physical theory and for enerw supply. For decades since the theory sf nudear hsiun had been developed and then spectacularly applied in the hydrogen bomb, huge scientific resources have been devoted to seeking a new sorxrce of enerw by inducing ksiun in a controlled way. This research has meant q i n g to replicate an. earth the nuclear processes that are known to pawer the sun, at hxataaically high temperatures and pressures. But so far the ene r g input in these costly experiments has been greater than the output. Existing physical theory rules out fusion at ordinary temperatures-but if it were possible after all, perhaps the warld's e n e r g problems could be solved cheaply and cleanly The normal way of annsuncing a scientific discovery is to publish a technical paper in one of the established scientific journals. The reputation uf such periodicds depends on the syaem uf peer review, by which papers are submitted to the judgment of experts in the reIevant area and may weH be reGsed in the light of their comments, Announcements to the media are not usually made unit the scientific paper has been published, and many science journals have a policy af not accepting any-

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thing that has been preGously published in a non-peer-reGewed form. But in this case, Pons and Fleischmann made their claim to the media first, without gidng sufficient details of their experimental procedures for other scientists to attempt proper replication. m a t they presented as proof of fusion t&ing place-the amount of heat generated-was at best only indirect evidence. To demonstrate fusion conclusively, it would have been necessav to detect the emission of neutrons, which they had not done. Fusion is a physical process, not a chemical sne; Pans and Ffeischmann were not physicists, but they were p r ~ f e s s ~af rs chemistry and electrochemistr-?~; respectively, ~ r established h mptxtations in their w n fields. Though they were not srigizlaliy household names (only becoming well how11 because of the controversy aroused by their press canference), their scientific reputations gave their claim some credibility; despite the unusual context of its announcement. The cold fusion claim caused a considerable stir in the scientific cornmurzity. And-unusually far a scientific report-it was noticed in the financial throrld, with bath the MlfEStreet Jourir-2aIand the London Financial Times quickly rushing to publish aaicles about it. The price sf palladium shot up, The U.S. Congress and even the president himself took an interest, and urgent scientific studies of cald fusion were commissioned. The mili.rary was intrigued by the possibilily of a ready supply of tritium (another isotope af hydrogen and an expected by-product of cald fusion), becatxse of its use in keeping nuclear warheads operatisnal. Over the next few months, scientists af all grades, from undergraduate to grofesso~in many institutions around the world feverishly strove to . situation was confused for quite some replicate the claimed r e s u l ~The time, A few claimed success, some reported failure, and others changed their minds from one d a y to rbe next as a variety of explanations were suggeged for both negative and positive results. Much sf the trouble arose because Pans and Fleischmann had not supplied sufficient details ofwhat they had dme, so experimenters did not know exactfy what conditions they were supposed to be setting up ( s m e of them were reduced s the press conference to try to pick up clues),A to scanning ~ d e o t a p eaf straight answer was never given as ta whether the obviotts car.ltrol experiment, using srdirlary water instead sf the heavy variety, had been performed. There were difficulties in detecting whether fusion was really takirlg place. GouXd the "excess" amounts of heat be accurately measured, and could they be eqlained in other ways? Conclusive proof of fusion rested on the detection of small quantities af Z'rxsion products such as nerttrons and tritium, but how could "background" sources of neutrons or contaminatior~sof tritium already in the apparatus be ruled aut?

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As the dust cleared aver the next year ar so, a scientific consensus emerged that no clear evidence existed that filsion could occur in the kind af experimental setup that Pons and FZeischmann were using. They surely spoke in good Eaith-thme is no reason ta doubt they believed that they had achieved cutd fusion or at least that they had suficiently good evidence to go public with the claim, The question that arises is why they bpassed the normal peer reGew procedure involved in scientific pubjication and went to the press with a somewhat vaguely specified and unconfirmed claim, thereby putting their own scientific reputations at risk and wasting the time of maxzy scientists who made Sterlrpts at replication. It seems the answer lies in the very high st&es in fame and profit that woulld have been up .for grabs if cold fusion had been verified. A Nobel Prize worxld surely have been awarded for the discovery. And if a patent could have been t a k n out on a new energql source for the whole world, the resulting profits would have made even Nobel's fortune look like peanuts, Thus, to the usual competition far priority in scientific discovery was added the lure of immense riches. Behind the scenes, a proposal had been made to divide the prospective royalties three ways: to the University of Utah, to its Department of Chemistry, and to Pons and Fleischmann themselves (even a sixth of dte profits would presumabb have made them multirniXlionaires)*Naturally, many who thought they were in the running for a patent were afraid that others might get one first, wllich greally intensified the usual race for priority in scientific discovery. The University of Utah engaged in some aicrimonious competition with Brigham Voung University (coincidentall~r;also in Utah), where Seven Jones had atready been experimenting on relaed topics and was about to publish, Pans and Jones had accused each ather of stealing ideas, and at a meeting in the presence of their mspective university presidents (foilowirrg the example of Darwin and Wallace-see 6. l),they agreed ta submit their papers .for pubjication simultaneously an March 24, 1989.Vet it seems that the temptations m r e just too great for the administration of the Urliversity of Utah to keep to that agreement, and Pons and Fleisehmann were pressured into the notorious press conference on M a z h 23. For a while, hopes in Utah ran high, and there was heady talk of their university becoming the richest in the world.,Tn a hearing before ai congressional science committee, a business consultant hired by the universiq tried the ploy of saying that unless the government gave the university $25 million to get started on commercial cold fusion reactors (vvithorxt waiting for confirm~ionby the scientific establishment), then the Japanese would get in on the act first. Congress was either too sbl-ewd,or too slow, to fall for that one, But the state government of Utah

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decided to spend $5 million ta start a Gold Fusion Genter. Upon hearing the objection that the scientific journal Nadtrre had not yet accepted the paper submitted by Pons and Fleischmann, the governor's chief af staff, Bud Scruggs, grwled, "We are not going to let some English magazine decide how state morley is spent!" ((ctuuted in Close 1990, 12). But as 1989 passed by; fewer and fewer investigators claimed they had been able ta make cold fusion work; it seems that nature, rather than Nature* gave the comeuppance to greed.. The scientific question of cold hsisn cannot be regarded as closed (no scientific isme can ever be regarded as completely and utterly closedthat is the eternally provisional nature of scientific rheory; see 1.1). Porls and Fleischrnann haw since secured fundirlg from Japanese companies and are pursuing their research with less publicity in the south sf France. Same experimenters report haGng replicated the mysterialxs excess heat heid to be evidence of cold fusion, and venture capitdists are risking their money s n further work. Pans and Fleisehmann have been f o ~ e by d criticism to retract any assertions about neutron emission. They have stuck to their basic claim that cold fusion happens, which they defend by postulating unspeciEed changes in accepted physical theoxly; Same other scientists speculate about hitherto unkrrow nuclear processes that may be involved. V\de must wait and see-science and its technslogieal spin-offs are inherently unpredictable. ft has been remarked that the beIief of the few remaining adherents of cold fusion has become like a religious faith, unaffected by the usual processes sf scientific experiment and argument, But it is not s b ~ o u s that the "faith,"if such it is, is all on one side, The adherents of the orthodox scimtific view that nuclear processes are impossible at room temperature are not totally disinterested (as in many sther scientific controversies at the cclairzg edge of research), They have invested their professiond credibili~in supporting a paaicular viewt and they do not wish to see it upset, Xn this case, there are also financial interests an the side of "'orthodoxy,'Yor billions have already been spent on hot filsiun research, and many people's jobs depend on this. Allegations (difficulrto prove s r disprove) have elren been made that: data have been .fudged in an attempt ta debunk the claim of cold fixsion. It is clear, hawever, that the original announcement made in 1989 was premature and lacked sufficient scientific:backing*And determining how much the two scientists we= motivated by the lure of riches or fame or vvherher their better judgment was overcome by pressures from university administrators, patent lawyers, and the politicians sf Utah may be a difficult task. fn this case, it does seem as though the financial interests of institutions diverted scientific practice from its normal pattern.

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Recrimination finally broke out in Utah. The Gold Fusion Genter closed down two years after its confident inceptian, and the universiry president came under attack .fox: spending millions of dollars s n an abortive project. The Faculty of Science voted to ask the state's governing board fur higher education to exmine his competence, and he decided to take early retirement. At one stage, Pans even threatened his physicist calleague Michael SaEarnon ~ t legal h action aver a critical article the latter published irr Narl-~re.Ponsk attorney demanded that Satamon retract the paper because of its inaccuracy, threatening that any damages suffered by his client woutld not be tolerated, So not wen scientific papers are to be free from American litigiousness! Later this threat was retracted, but that it:was issued at all is indicative sf the competitiveness and cammerciatization sf present-day science. What price pure scientific curiosity now?

Suggestions for Further Reading Clark,R. W. 1985, The L@e ofErnst Chain: I)enicilEin and Beyond. Close, E 1990. Too Hod Handle: The Race for Cold F~az'on. Desmond, A., and f, Moore. 1991, Darwin: The Lz$e s f a Tormented EuoEutionist, Drake, S. 19%. Galileo at VVork:H's Scientific Biography Evlanoff, M ., and M, Fluor. 1969. Alfred Nobek The LsneEiest.Milli~naire, Hall, S , S. 19137. Invisible Frontiers: The Race Sptkesize a Human Gene, Huizinga, T. R. 1993. Cold Fusian: The Sciet-zti$c Fimco oftjze Century. McKie, L), 1952.A~%to-oine tavoisier: Scientist, Ecsnoml'J"2;Social Reformer,

Scientists who find themselves living under a dictatorship or any other sort of totdi.rariarr regime face some hard choices, especially if Lhe nature of their work is relevant to the interests of the state, They may sewe the government loyally; they m q even exploit the political situation for their own advancement. Same may choose to conform outwardly while not committing themsetws to the regime insahr as they can avoid daing so, whereas others may ta some extent evade or subvert its purposes in clandestine w v , Occnsiozlalfy a scientist comes out in flat opposition ta his or her government's policies, expressing dissent at great personal cast, Examples of each kind of behaGor follow.

9.1 Scientists in Nazi Germany Planck: The Scientist Who Stayed at His Post When Hitler took p o w r in 1933, German scientists were faced with a stark dilemma: to continue their work under the new regime (and probably be induced to serrre its ends) or to leave the country and became ref tgees, As we hawe seen in 7.2, some, like Fritz Haberpe l e c ~ to d leave after a lifetime of patriotism. But other scientists, such as the distinguished physicist Max Planck (1858-J94n),chose to stay at their positions and try to pmtect German science from the excesses of Nazi rule, Pfanck was an old-fashioned, pre-Nazi nationalist like Hither, strongly imbitxed with the ideal of loyalty to the htherland and the Kaiser, Yet everyone who knew him has atrested to his honest, modest, and gerrtle character; he has ewn been described as something of a saint. Like Einstein, he approached science in a quasi-religious spirit, seeing the laws of nature as the expression of a mtional world order, although he did not believe in the personal Godl of Chriaianity. Einsteids striking words about the few truly devoted warshipers in the temple of science (quoted in 3.2) m r e written with Planck in mind. In 1300, physics had errtered a n w era of theoreticat developments, beginning with PlancKs theoq sf the quantum-the idea that enerm is not a continuaus quantity but comes in discrete, indivisible packets, I65

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Planck developed this radically new idea to explain the failure of the clasical radiation laws expressing the radiation of enerw from a black surkce Can ideal black body radiator) as a .function sf temperature. The equations predicted that the enerm radiated would increase without bsund as the wavelenglb of tight decreases toward zero. To amid this ""uXtra~oIetcatastrophe,'TF"fanck derived a law that fit the experimental data by irttroducirlg a radfcal quantizaiotz of energy exchange that marked the beginning of quantum physics, Me also insisted (contrary to antirealist ar instrumentalist interpretations af scientific theories) on the red e ~ s t e n c of e tiny, invisible atoms in order ta explain the observational evidence. PlancKs new physical ideas were taken up by Einstein in one of his famous papers of 1905, and for the rest of his life, Ptanck was at the forefront sf debate in physics, much of it with Einstein himself. It was Planck who persuaded Einstein ito join the Physics lrlstitue of the Kaiser Wilhelrn Cesellschaf~,despite Einstein" reluctance to live in Cermany by arranging for him a special research professorship free af normal duties, Planck was caught up ir-r the chauvinism that accompanied the outbreak sfWor1d War ]I and enthusiastically supported his country3 cause throughout. Afterward, he heXped to sustain Gerazraxz science through the economic and political difficulties of the Weimar period. He induced Einstein to stay in Berlin thmugh the 1920s even though rising anti-Te~sh sentiment was engendering hostility to Einsteids scientific theories, At one point, Pianck arranged a public discussion bemeerr Einstein and his chief opponent in German physics CPhilipp Lenard, whom we will consider n e ~ l'but , that did not stop the anti-Semitic campaign in science, which had deep roots in German socier-ft.[Even behre 1900, Planck had apposed official anti-Jewish discrimination s n at least two sccaians.) When Hitler became chancellor in 1933, Planck was secretary of the Prussian Acaderrly of Science and president of the Kaiser Wiltlelm Geself~chaft~ It seems that whatever his reservations about the Nazis, his patriotism was sufficiently unshaken for hi131 to feel that it was his dttty to remain at his post and do Ns best Eor German science in the new political situation. W e n Einstein, by then a rehgee in the United States, publicly criticized the Nazi government for abarrdorting civil liberty, tolerance, and equality before the law, Planck felt alienated from his former colleague as well as from the Nazis. He wrote to Einstein: ""There has taken place a collision between two conflicting views of the throrld. X have no understanding for either. 1 feel remote from ysurs, as you will remember from sur talks about your propaganda for refusing military service,'TEixrstein, for his part, never forgave Vtanck for not publicly standing up for his Jewish colleagues. Planck did try to act behind the scenes, however, He pleaded personally with Hitler for the reinstatement af Fritz

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Haber, praising him and other Jewish scientists, but the FGhrer only flew into a rage; Planck had to take his leave, convinced of the impossibility af rationally influencing Hitler, He showed enough courage to go to a memorial ceremony for flaber two years later; although the government had bmned public employees from amnding it. Apart from this, he refrained from public protests but did his best to prevent fi~rtherdismissals of felivish scientists, Planck's only surviving son was arrested for conspiracy in the plot against Hitler's Me in 1944 and was executed in the closing weeks of the war, Planck wrote: "'My sonow cannot be put into worcts. t struggle for the strength to give meaning to my future life by conscientious work-"" (Heilbron 11986, f 95). Perhaps some meaning was supplied when the victsriaus Allies allowed the Kaiser Withelm Gesellseha-FI to be refounded in 1946 as the Max Planck Ceselschaft, named in honor of this outstanding physicist who compromisd with the Nmis while trying to preserve German science from their interkrence.

Lenard ~ l n dStark: The Nazi Movement for 'German Physics" Phitipp Lenaird (1862-1943 and Jahannes Stark (118"1-195"T were two German experimental physicists sf sufficient achievement to win Nobel Prizes for their early work, f r l the 1920s)after defeat in World War X and the financial reparations exacted by the victors, extreme narianalism and anti-Semitic feeling began to run high in Germany, affecting many scientists, too. Lenard and Stark became the leaders of a group of physicists who called themselws "national researchers') and led an extraordinary movement to develop a specifically German, ar "ryan," "ysics, Einstein$ theory of relativity was dismissed as " " l t ~ s throrld-bluRfs' h and German physicists who accepted the new concepts of relativity and quantum mechanics were subjected to threatening criticism.,Nationaln very content of istic, even racial, criteria were applied even ~ r h i the scientific theory It is instructive to examine how such a dramatic perversion of science could have happened, however brief its influence. But our discussion of Rurt in 6.2 suggests that it is not only in totalitarian societies that we can find social, political, or icieologicd factors entering into supposedly objective, scientific theorizing. fn the 1890s, Lenard had worked under Heinrich Hertz, the discoverer of electrornagrletic radiation, and he took charge of publishing his distinguished mentor's works after the latter" early death. But three: decades later Lexrard was in the grip of racist ideology and claimed to find taints of ""lwishness'Yin HeflzS theoretical works. Lenard"s;early work was on cathode rays; he established that they consist of negatively

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charged particles, He aggressively dispuxted prioriv of discmry of these 'klectrons,'hs they were called, with Sir foseph John Thomson (1856-1940) af Cambridge University in England, who is standardly credited with their discovery; fn 1905, Lenar-d was awarded the Nobe1 Prize for his cathode ray experiments and was snce lauded as "the mast celebrated scientist in physical research," Enstein, however, did not concur in this opinion, describing Lenard's lectrxre on "the abstrrxse ether" as almost ir-rfantile. Lenard was involved in the general wave af blind nationalism that aecompanied Wodd War 1, But he took it to greater extremes than most, alleging drat British scientists llad systematically plagiarized the work of German colleagues, After the war, he incited his students to work against the government sf the new Weimar Republic, which he saw as dishonoring Gernlarry by not resisting disarmament, W e n he refttsed to close his laltorarory fur the hrzerd sf a murdered Few in 1922, a c r w d of angry Social Democratic supporters stormed the building, and he had to be taken into pmtective custody This literal entry of politics into the scientific laboratov was an srnirrous sign of times to come, u\ihen the Nazi side would ds the invading. Lenard volunteered to head the movement against Einsteinian physics, and he took part in an acrimonious public debate in 1920, at which Max Ptanck as chairman just managed to prelrent an uproar. Besides anti-Semitism, Lenard" attacks on Einstein may have been m ~ t i v a ~ by d his inability to follow the difficult mathematics involved in rhe new physical theories. His talents were experimental, and he distrusted abstract theorizing, In the context of Germaxay during the 1920s and 1930s)Lenard's nationalism took a racist form, which showed itself mast blatantly in the title af his bsak D e u ~ c h ePhysik, published in 1937. In the preface he mote: "'German physics?" one will ask-2 could dso have said man physics or physics af the Nordic man, physics af the reality explorers, af the truth seekers, the physics s f those who have founded natural science. "'Scienceis and remains international!" wsotneone wilt reply to me. He, however, is in error, In rediq science, like everything man produces, is racially determined, deterrrtined by blood, (Beyerehen 1977, 1251

Hitler was delighted to find such a d e v o ~ dsuppoaer among the scientists, and Lenard became his "authorify'"in physics, But in fact, German science had been severely weakened by the expulsion sf so many af its ablest scientists, and the aging ideologrxe (Lenard was already seventy u\ihen Hitler came to power) proved to be of no practical use to the Nazi war machine.

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Johannes StarkS career shows many similarities to LenardPss, He also was a tdenred experimerltd physicist but was no whiz at higher mathematics. He discovered a Doppler effect in ""canal ray.s,'"etecting it in the hydrogen spectral lines, and although he first tried to use this as evidence in favor of EinsleinPstheory of special relativity and PlancFs quantum hypothesis, he later turned strongly against both theories. Some of his early physical hpotheses were s h o w ta be wrong by German physicist Arnsld Sommel-feld (1868-1951), and in a pattern that was to recur, Stark reacted with enmity. He seems throughout his life to have been an impossible character to work with, His superior at tiannover had to appeal to the Ministry of Edrlcatian to transfer him elsewhere, and he got into bitter dispute widl the faculty at Giiettingen when applying for a chair there. He quarreled with his colleagues at VVuerzburg so intensely thar he ended up resigning his professorship, He could afford to move from universiq to universiq becwse of the Nobel Prize money he had won in 1919, with which he tried to set up a business in the porcelain indtxstry He proved even less successful in commerce than in academia but could not return to his former prokssian because he had made so many enemies, After 1933, Hitler put Stark in charge of mrious scierrtfic bodies, and he conceived grandiose plans for himself as leader of a reorganized German physics, to the dismay of most German physicists, Courageous opposition by Max von Laue (18179-2960)-but not, it has ta be said, by Max Planck-saved the Prussian Academy from being taken over by Stark, He seems indeed to have been pathologically aggressive, and he was compeled ta retire from his oficid positions under the Third Reich even before the outbreak of Miorld War 21. He lives ir-r memory as a remarkable combination: a Nobel Bize Mrinner in physics with a character that even the Nazis could not stomach, As long as the Nazi movement remained merely a vocal minority, Lexlard and Stark could be dismissed as mavericks who had illegitimately allowed politics to affect their science. Brxt as Hitler rose to power, they became a force to be feared. h we shall n w see, even the brilliant Heisenberg, a far greater physicist than either sl"them, was attacked. However, their odious attempt to intrude racial politics into pbsics did nett survive the pressures of reality even in Nazi Germany

f-leisenbergk Attitude Toward a German Atomic Bomb Werner f-feisenberg (1902-19%) is famous b r his crucial csntributisns to quantum mechnrrics during what has been called the "golden age of physics" of the 1920s. He formulated the famous Uncertain@ Principle,

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which states that it is impossible exactly to determine both the position and the momentum of a subatomic particle, from which if folows that predictions can be made onXy to a certain degree af probability. As a teenage& Hesenberg studied and argued with the great Niels Bcthr and became a fitvorite pupil of this "pope of physics," He gaizled a chair in physics at the University of Copenhagen at the age of thirty and a Nobe1 Prize at thirty-two. In the 1930s, he was at the forefront of research, despite the wjection ofthe new Cheoricts of physics as "Jewishflby the Nazis, m e n he published a defense of relativity theory in a Nazi jaurnal in 1937, a ty~~ically aggressive reply from Stark labeled Heisenberg a "white f em'' Heisenberg appealed to Heinrich Himmler, who was chief of the Gestapo and also a family friend, and after balding Helsenberg's loyalties investigated, Himmfer protected him against any hrther such attacks, In the fateful summer of 1939,when physicists were beginning to realize the possibilie af atomic Rssisn, Heisenberg .visited the United States and was oaered inducements to stay there, But he refused to desert "the nice young physicists'' (as he called rherrr) for whom he was responsible in Germany He was sure that Hitler would lose the coming war, and lie wanted to remain in Germany to help preserve what was of value, Once back home, he accepted the direerorship of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute far Physics, then under the control of the Army Weapons Department, This was also the meeting place of the Uranium Sociefy; a group of scientists formed to eqlare the potential of atomic fission, Heisenberg was thus in a crucial position to influence the course of German wartime researeh on this topic, Nuclear fission had been discovered in Germany in 1938 when Otea Hahn (18"1-19681, working with Fritz Strassmann, bombarded uranium with slow neutrons. (As early as 1934, Enrico Fermi in Italy and Xrene and Frkdkrie foliot-Curie in France had produced fission of uranium, but it was not recognized as such,) Austrian physicist Lise Meitner (18178-19681, who worked with Hahn for thirty years until 1938, when she Bed to Sweden to escape the Nazis, made the news public. She and her nephew Orto Frisch-who coined the term pssion-wrote a paper suggestirrg that the fission of uranium could release large m o u n t s of energy. It vvas dris paper that alefled Bohr (see 10.1) to the danger of a German atomic bomb. Later in the war, the United States became so concerned about the possibility of Germany developing a nuclear weapon that in 1944, if sent a spy to a lecture Heisenberg was g i ~ n in g Switzerland with instructi~nsto shoot him if he gave any hint that the Nazis were warking on such a project! However, despite the fact that the theoretical possibilily of an atomic weapon was h o w n to the German physicists, they made no serious effort to construct one,

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Wtly didnt the Germans develop an atomic bomb during World War I t T h e basic reason seems to be that scientists saw no way, given Cerman resources, to separate the large quantities of the fissionable isotope uranitlm-235 that I-Eeisenbergdlougrlt would be necessary to produce an atomic explosion, So most of their research remained at an academic level and was directed more toward investigating uranium's potential as an energy source than as an explosive. 'Fhtls, the MtiesYear of a German atomic bomb turned out to be groundless. Fol-tuna~lyfor the rest of the world, the Nazis had driven aut many sf Germany's most able scientists when they came to power, and they had so little understanding of science themselves that they did not try to harness it systematicallyto their war effort. Heisenberg wrote after the war that because of these factors, he and his colleawes were spared the decision of whether or not to cooperate in developing an atomic bomb for Hitler, He was a German patriot, but he had resewations about the Nazis, especially as it became etear that they were leading Germany to ruirrolls defeat. It is not clear to what extent Heisenberg realized at the time chat an atomic betrnb was a praaical possibility. Edward Teller later interpreted his not maMng plutonium to use as fissionable maerial instead of uranium-235 as a s i p of a man workirlg unwillingly, It has been suggested that Heisenberg, while going through the motions sf war-related work (and thus saving young physicists f r m serving in the armed forces), actually tried to divert the minds of the Nazi arJtthorities m y from the possibility of an atomic bomb. He himself said after the war: Under a dictatorship active resistance can anlly be practised by those who pretend to cotIab~ratewith the regime, Anyone speaking aut openly against the system therel-?ydeprives himself of any chance af active resistmce, For if he only utters his criticism from time to time in a poliiricdly harmless way, his psiitieal influence can easily be blocked, , . . If, an the ather band, he really tries to start a political movement, among students for instance, he will naturally finish up a few days later in a concentration camp, Even if he is put to death his tnarqrdom will in practice never be known, since it will be forbidden to mention his name. . . . I: have atways . . . been very much ashamed when 1 think sf the people, some of them ~rty friends, who sacrificed their lives an 20 July [in the attempt to assassinate Hitler] and thereby put up a r e d y serious resistance to the regime. But even their example shows that effective resistance can only calrte from those who pretend to collaborate. (Jungk 1958,90--91)

Heisenbel-g here made a utilitarian case for pretence at caoperaitisn with tyranny, while conceding the hanorability sf those who choose

172 / Scientists and the Tot.aEir;arl;anState

outright opposition. Brxt we have to bear in mind that he must have wanted to put hflh the best interp"'etation of his warlime activities in order to maintain his career in the postwar era. As the Mlied armies invaded Europe after D day, a special scientific unit within the U.S. Army [called the "Alsos") Eotlowed the advancing front lines ta check passible German progress in atomic fission. They systematically investigated laboratories and rounded up enemy scientists. Heisenberg was one of their last and greatest captures (bythen, the fear was that he and his expertise would fall into Soviet hands). He was held with nine other German physicists in a comfortable country holxse called Farm Malt near Carnbridge, England, the catch being that the place was "bugl5ed" so that the ALfied intelligence services could listen to the conversations and find out just how much their distinguished prisoners knew. In 1992, transcripts of the conversations recorded in. 1945 were finally made public (they had been classified by the British as top secret for almost fifty years). The Germans were not aware that they were being recoded. Wlzen the question was raised whether there might be hidden microphones, Heisenberg remarked: '4Micraphonesinstatled? Qh no, they're not as cute as all that, I don't think they know the real Gestapo methods; they're a bit old-fashioned in that respect'7lBernstein 1992,49), Thomas Powers (1993) argued that Heisenberg ""klled the projeet'kaf building an somic bomb because he did not want Hitler ta have such a destructive weapon, But judging from the recol-ded conversations, Heisenberg does not seem to have been strongly motivated by any such desire, The central. issue is whether Heisenbergk informing the authorities that they vvould need 100 times as much uranium as we now h w is required ta build an atomic bomb was due to a scientific mistake on his part or whether he deliberately misinformed the Nazis to prevent them from buildirlg an ammic bomb. There is no evidence, apart from his own assertion, that he intentionalty misled the German authorities. When the interned German physicists heard the news of the first U.S. atomic bomb dropped on fapan, they were at first irlcredulous that the Americans could have overcame the technical obstacles they had themselves thought insuperable, and some of Heisenbeqk colleagues dubbed him a "'second-rater." He himself was overheard to say "We w~uldn'thave had. the moral courage ta recommend to the government in the spring of 1942 that they should employ 120,000 just for building the thing up" (Bernstein 1992, 51). Once again, this suggests a morally ambiguous state of mind, He apparently felt that his patriotic duty would have been ta inform the Nazis of the feasibility of an atomic bsmb given sufficient resources, but perhaps he was also somewhat relieved that he had not in fact done so. Ironically, am uncertainty prinei-

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ple seems to apply to Eleisenbergg own motives and intentons in the whole affair! After the war, Heisenberg was allowed to return ta his native land, and he taok his place as the leading physicist of democratic West Germany, becoming director of the Physics Institute of the newly renamed Max Planck GeseltschaR from 1946 to 1958, Like many ather physicists, he explored philosaphical issues in later life, and his Gifhrd lectures given at St. Andrevvs University in Scotland in 1955 and 1956 were published under the title Physics and Pf$l"losopl?y:The Revslution in M~derflSeience. He had regained academic respectabili-ty;

9.2 Scientistsa d

Communism In the USSR Before we look at same particular episodes, let us summarize briefly the stal-y of science in the USSR after the October Revolution of 1917, Sefentisrs had been a m m g the weli-off elite under the Czars, and most of them, though supporting democratic rebrm, had opposed the more extreme Bolshevik faction. They therefare became objects of suspicion after the revolution when the Bolsheviks took pwer, and during the civil war of 1918 ta 1921, many ofthem fled abroad, But once the new regime was firmly established, Vladimir Lenin realized the need for technical experrise hdeveloping the country, and over the next decade mmy talented scientists were installed in newly farmed institutes housed in farmer aristocratic palaces, given funding to pursue their work, and even allalted special mtiorls in times of shortage. (Lenin was a strong believer in. technology-during the 1920s, he used the motto ""Scialism and electrification!"")There followed a dramatic acceleration in the pace of scientific education and research, Practicd benefits for the new socialist society were expected, aE course, but they were not demanded in the short term, and at first the government exerted little ideological pressure on scientists, During this period, a Pt-tysical-TechnieaE Institute was established in Leningrad; it was the foundzbtion of the remarkable S o ~ eachievements t in nuclear physics in later years. Olher institutes were set up Eor the was instudy af optics and radium., Botanist N. I, Vavitov (188"i"--..jt943) vited ta set up a b b o m t o of ~ Applied Botany in a palace in the center of Leningrad (which is now St. Petersburg orlce again), where he began assembling what was to became the world" greatest collection. of plant species (as a genetic pool for selection and hybridization). Some S o ~ e t scientists became world leaders in their fields; geneticist S, S. Chetverikov (J880-1959) laid the foundatians af population genetics;

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physiological psychologist X, F? Pavlou (1849-1936) did his famous work on conditioned reflexes; and biochemist A. l. Oparin (1894-1980) put forward the first scientific theory aftthe arigin of life on earth. But from abolxt 1929, as Stalin tightened his dictatorial grip on power and a younger generation of Soviet-eained scientists sought advancement, the early galden years of Soviet science came to an end*Rapid indtxstrialization and forced coltectiGzation of agriculture were the order of the day. Short-term praaical results were now expected of loyal Communist scientists, Accusatians af sabotage and disloyalty were cornmon-perhaps ta distract attention from failures in Stalin5 ambitiolxs programs. Anyone who could be labeled a ""bourgeois irrtellectual" was especially under suspicion, and people began to "disappear."' In 1929, the USSR Academy af Sciences was declared to be a center for counterrevolutionary actiGty*and three of its members were arrested, In this atmosphere of error, scientific argumenCs easily became politicized, and it was possible .for incompetent would-be scientists to invoke political power against their colieagues. For example, when disputes arose in agriculture and biolog, Qsenko was able to rise to scientifically undeserrred prominence (as we are about to see). A number af distinguished scientists ended up on the wong side palitieally; Che~erikav;for example, vvas exiled to the Urals and was not released until he was a very old man in 1955.VaGlov was arrested in 1940 and died in a labor camp, The Stalirti~dogma of the time was that- ""bourgeois science" (by which was meant the science developed in the capitalist West), thou& it had its successes, was limited in scope, supposedly because capitalism restricted science and technology to a certain level of development. The hope was that Soviet science would first catch up with this level and then transcend it by developing that further potential as only communism could. But even after World War X,Imany sciences (kvith one exception being physics) made little progress in the USSR, for reasons that we shall now illustrate,

How Lysenko Got Stalin's Support for Pseudobiolow Russian biologist (or as many would rather say, pseudobio1ogis.l)Trofim DenisoGch Lysenko (1898-19%) attained the very peak of scientific administrative power under Stalin and was able to suppress much genuine biological research, espmially as rela~edto genetics, for a whole generation in the Soviet Unian, Lysenko was anly marginally a scientist*Educated in applied agronomy; he pursued a career in scientific administration without making any significant corrtributions to scienrific research. But his story is instructive in showing haw wrong things can go in sci-

Scientists and the TotalitarianState / 175

ence under political conditions less tolerant than those we normally take for granted. Lysenko appears from the start to have had a greater talent for selfpublicity and political infighting than for science itself. He got a heroicsounding feature story about himself published in Pravda in 1927, based on experiments on winter planting of peas to precede the cotton crop in Azerbaijan. The journalist wrote that Lysenko had "solved the problems of fertilizing the fields without fertilizers and minerals" but went on to describe him in less complimentary terms as a man with "a dejected mien" who was "stingy of words and insignificant of face." "Only once," it was noted, "did this barefoot scientist let a smile pass, and that was at mention of Poltava cherry dumplings with sugar and sour cream." The "barefoot" professor gained followers, pupils, and a field in which to conduct experiments. He was photographed being visited in the winter by agronomic luminaries who stood before the green fields of the experimental station, gratefully shaking his hand. The winter crop of peas apparently did not prove a success in subsequent years, but it helped Lysenko get a strong foothold on the ladder of power. In his first major scientific paper, he tried to correlate the time and heat that a plant needs to grow through all its phases, from sprouting to production of new seed. But he took almost no account of previous investigations of the topic and also committed an elementary error in statistical reasoning. Biologist N. A. Maksimov politely put him right, but Lysenko took no proper notice of the criticism, merely dropping any attempt at statistical argument and dogmatically asserting that the germinating seed's being chilled for a certain period of time is the only determining factor in the maturing of winter grain. In 1929, Lysenko acquired a wider reputation in the USSR for his alleged discovery of "vernalization,"which was in fact a traditional practice of hastening the germination of seeds by immersing them in water and then freezing them. He put a new spin on the process by claiming that it would also cause future generations of seeds to germinate earlier. He persuaded his Ukrainian peasant father to soak his winter wheat seeds and bury them in a snowdrift before sowing them in the spring. This particular crop, according to the Ukrainian Commissariat for Agriculture, did better than the spring wheat sown in neighboring fields. Yet even before this test, stories of sensational progress in farming had been handed out to the press. Lysenko proposed to grow tomatoes in the tundra~ and sugar beets in the deserts of Central Asia. In October 1929, Lysenko was promoted to the All-Union Institute of Plant Breeding in Odessa. He was on his way up, and scientists like Maksimov now had to express respect for his claimed practical achievements, however skeptical they may really have been.

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fn the 1930s, hsenka became director of the Odessa Xnstittxte and was able to found his own scientific journal. He extended the idea of vernalizatisn into a theory af ""pasic development'kf plants and put forward a more general theory of f t e r e d i ~that focused on the whole organism rather than on the genes in germ cells, as in neo-Mendelian genetics. Since such speculations were formulated in a way too vague to be tested, they harcfly count as genuine scientific hypotheses, Bm Lysenku was now able to use his politicat influence ta frighten off his critics. At the time af the collecti~zationsf agriculture, when the k-ulaks (comparatively wealthy peasants) were being forced off their land, he included the Eallowing denunciation in a speech to the Second &l-Union Congress of Shock Collective Farmers in 1935: "Comrades, kulak-wreckers accur not only in your collective farm life. You know them very well. But they are no less dangerous, no less sworn enemies also in science, No little blood was spilled in the defense of vernalization in the various debates with some so-called scientists. . , . A class enemy is dways a class enemy whether he is a scientist or not." After these sinister words, Stalin is reparled to have said, "Bravs, comrade Lysenko, bravo!" Once Qsenko gained the backing sf Stalin, anyone advocating ~ e w s in biolof;r;?rdifferent from his own became politically suspect. During the great purges of the late 1 9 3 0 ~Soviet ~ scientias who were suspeaed of disloyalty caufld find themselves suddenly arrested, interrogated, sent to labor camps, or even executed. Maksimov, h-ysenko's early critic, was in trouble; even the internationally recogrlized Vavilov, director of a prominent botanical institute since the early years ofthe USSR, was arrested in 1940 and died of malnutrition in a Siberian tabor camp in 1943. Lysenko was appointed director sf the Institute of Genetics of the USSR Academy of Sciences in 1940, However, it was not until 1948, well a&er the Stdinist reign of terror and the "Great Patriotic War," that he attained campllete control over Soviet biology*Just prior to that time, it had looked as if the practical failt~resof his much-advertised agronomic measures would undermine his position, but again he managed ta get suppart where it mattered, At a meeting in 1948, Lysenko delivered a speech edited by Salin himself in whidl he was able to silence all oppositiorl by armouncing that his w n "~rep~rtf' had the suppore of the Central Camminee of the Communist Party. The gist ofrhis notorious report was thal there were two opposing schools of biological tftougXlt in the USSR: one that was materialistic and Soviet and another that was idealistic, reactionary, and committed to a chrsmosome-based theory sf heredity. Lysenko associated himself with the "ideologicalfy correct" views of I. V. Miehurin (1855-1935), a breeder of fruit trees who believed in the inheritance af acquired characteristics. The Mendelian view be-

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came officially anathema, to be repressed ~ t allhthe force of the S o ~ e t state, Swiftly therea&er, a campaign ensued to dismiss all scientists assoeiated with the condemned genetic fieories (which were already a standard part of biology in the rest of the world], Journals and texlbooks were purged of genetics, and an srder was even issued to destroy stocks of Drosophila, the fruit fly so often used in genetic experiments, Meanwhile, Lysenko's supporters were appointed to key positiorzs, so any scientists who believed in Mendelian genetics had ta pay lip sew-ceta Lysenkoism to retain their posts. We was at the peak of his pawer, but his position began to weaken even before Stalin's death in 1953, 111 11950, S ~ l i nin , seikirlg contradietiun to his previous policy, announced that "no science can develop and prosper without the clash of opinions, withow freedom of criticism"; in 1952, criticism of Lysenko's theories duly began to appear irr print again, Since he had been in charge of all Soviet agronomy for a number af years, the practical failures sf his policies could not forever be concealed, In the "Great Stalin Plan for the Transformation of Nature," for example, millions of trees had been planted, according ta Lysenks's direction, in clusters rather than singly. The theoxly was that they would efteetively thin themselves out, Careful assessment of the actual results (something n w in Soviet agronomy) showed that mare than half the trees had died, Mendeliaxr genetic theory began slowly and cautiously to revive alongside Lysenkoism. Yet it was not until after Nikita Khrushchev lost power in 1964 that Qsenko was dismissed from his directorship af the Institute of Genetics and his journal Agrob%ologywas discontinued. He l at Lerlirl Mills unwas alluwed to keep the substantial a p e r i m e n ~farm til his death. Since then, Lysenkoism has disappeared almost Mrithout a trace from science in the SaGet Union. It had some influence for a time in Easwrn Europe and in Maoist China, but it never established a permanent hold anywhere, Lysenko" desire for fame and power seems to have ovewhelmed any scientific curiosity to seek the truth. In striking contrast to Mendel, who sought discussion sf his work but was starved of such stimulus, Lysenko failed ta respond to expert criticism. We may choose to call indiGdtxals like Lysenko, who have only a smaflering of scientific knowfedge and who mereIy go through the motions af experimental testing, bad scientists-or we may decide that they are not really scientists at all, His achievement was to retard Soviet genetics for a generation and handicap the development of mare efficient agricultural production. 'How, then, did it happen? An adequate account must go belyonid the persond qualities of Lyserzko or even of Stalin. It may be temping to try to explain Lysenko's attaining power over the scientific community by

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appeal to the Marxig ideology that officialy dominated all Soviet thought and practice. Mmy writers have noted that some of his speculations echoed the pre-Darwinian theory aE Larnarck (17154-18291, who proposed that characteristics acquired during the lifetime of an individual organism could be irrherited. Aritd it is plausible to see Lanlarckisnl as cangenial to Marxist ideology, since it suggests that human nature can be altered by socioeconomic conditions, unlike Darwinian theory, which holds that environmental irlfluences on an organism do not affect the genes passed on to its offspring. But considerations at this level aE theoretical biology or paliticd philosophy were not what motivated Lysenko himself. He clearly had little understanding of biological theory and even admitted to Stalin that he had never studied Darwin5 work, He was primarib a practical agriculturalist, whose rise to great power aver the scientific community was made possible by the nature of the Stalinist regime. The Soviet Unian had encouraged an elite af theoretical scientists, some of whom were thrortd renowed, like Va~lov* Chetverikov*PavIov, and Oparin. But the political leadership was irrcreasingly impatient with the tack of immediate pmctical use .for scientific investment, especially in the vital area of agriculture, This sitltaion provided an oppomnity for a new generation of ambitious young people to win promotion by claiming to have ways af increasing agricultural production. quickly It seems to have been this political arld economic background, more than any direct influence Eronl Marxist ideology, that made the whole Lysenko affair possible, fn. Lysenko we are pli-esented with an ill-educated but ambitious and somewhat unscrupulous would-be scierrtist who, given the peculiar political circumstances of his time, was able for a while to exercise dictatorial power over much of the scientific community of a huge stale, As long as he retained his political position, he was able to suppress teaching and research in the whole field of genetics. Such ideological interference in the very content of scientitic thought is an aberration from what we think of as normal practice. 1.1 has been assumed to be fairly raw in the history of science: the cases af Gafilea and the Catholic Church (see 8.1) and the Nazi rejection of Einstein's physics (see 9.1) are usually cited as exceptiond. But we had better be prepared to ackrluwledge that social and political factors can also affect scientific belief in more democratic contexts, especially where the subject matter involves deeply ingrained convictions (see the discussion of Burt on intelligence irr 6.2). Even if unusual, Lysenko's ease is instructive; in science, as elsewhere, we learn a great deal abotlt bow something works by examining how it can go wrong.

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Kurchatow's Loyal Service to the Soviet State Throughout the Stalinist years sf terror and dogma, physics in the USSR remained relatively unscathed. Realizing the vital military importance of physicists, Stalin excused them Rum the "'pslitical education" that was compulsary for all ather scientists. Igor Kurchataw (1903-1960) was a member of the first generation of Soviet-trained scientists, having graduated fiurn the U~~iversity of the Crimea in 1923. Four years later he moved to the Leningrad Physical-Technical Institute and went on to become head of its nuclear physics department, He and his team built the first cyclotron [partide accelerator) in the world, and like physicists in other countries, they realized the possibility af chain reaction and nuclear fission in uranium, M e n Hitler attacked the Soviet Union in 1941, all. available scientific resolxrces were thrown into war production. Often this meant using the expertise of people who had been interned in labor camps, and a system af ""prison laboratories" and aircrafi:Pactories grew up that was to outlast the war, A large laboratory was established under Kurchatsw's supervision in Moseavv; and it was later named the 1. V; Kurchatow Institute af Atomic Energy in his honor. After the United States used atomic bsmbs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, Stalin had to acknowledge the success sf ""capitalist'bcienee, He ordered Kurchatow and his team to work flat out on a SoGet bsmb, By the end etf 1946, they had constructed the first atomic reactor E prison labor, same captured German scienin Europe with the aid s tists, and important espionage data from the West (notably via Klaus Fuchs, whs had acted as a spy inside the U.S. atomic bomb project). To the consternation of the Mrest, the first Soviet bomb was exploded as early as 1949; with the cmcial contribution of Andrei Sakharov (discussed in the following sectisn), they tested their first hydrogen bornb in 5953. Kurehmw also did much for the civil use of atomic energy and was irlstrrxmerrtat in the cetnstmdion of the USSR" first nuclear power station in 1954. The very rapid SoGet delrelapment sf this energy source, whose human and ecological dangers have been all too clearly demonstraed by the explosion at Chernobyl, owes nlrxc2.l to Kurchatm Obviausly?his scientific expertise and arganizatisnd ability was equaled by his loyalty ta the state; he was three times honored as a Hero of Socialist Labor, and his ashes were entombed in the KremTtin wall. But he remains a gray figure sfwhom almost nothing is known beyond his scientific distinction and his political subser~enee,There are many more of his type ir-revery country

180 I Scientists and the Tot.aEir;arl;anState

SakharovS Courageous Dissidence The life of Andrei Sakharsv (1921-1989) shows how in a totalitarian saciety-as the Soviet Union was until the fast year or two of his life-it can sometimes be possible for scienrists to use the special position their expertise gives them to exert an unusual degree af moral and political influence. As we have seen, physics remained relatively untouched by the excesses af Stalinism. By 1949 Soviet scientists were able to produce an atomic bomb. Sakharov completed his doctorate with extraodinary speed (by Russian standards) and was set to wark in 1948 to develop a thermonuclear (hydrogen) bomb. His technical success in this project was such that for a short time the Soviets had an advantage aver the United States, becatxse Sabarov had seen haw to make an H-bomb of manageable size, using a fission-lirsion-fissiontechnique, white $1 the Americans had was a device too huge to get s n an airplane, Thus, the USSR rapidly caught up with the United States in the nuclear arms race, In reward, Sakharov was elected a full member of the Academy of Sciences in 1953, at the unprecedented age af thirty-two. Reaching that position just as Stalin died gave him a unique opportunity He was privileged materially, of course, but also polilically in that the viral national importance sf his expertise in nuclear physics gave him a certain measure of independence, a freedom to speak out that hardly anyone else in the USSR enjoyed. Me soan realized how poisonous was the radioactive contamination produced by nuclear bomb tests in the atmosphere, and he pleaded with the S o ~ eleaders t to desist from them. When a three-year moratorium on such tests expired in 1961, he personalty lobbied mrushchev nor: to resume them, only to be told in no uncertain terms that he should stick to science and let arushchev handle the politics. He also took part in the scientists' campaign to free biafoay from Lysenko's still-persisting dictatorship. SabarovS concerns soon widened from scientific to social and palitical marters, He signed a collective letter warning against m y attempt to rehabilitate Stalin, He became a public defender of free thought and human rights and developed increasingly close contacts with. other dissidents. In 1968, he circulated within the USSR-and had published ir-rthe Wst-a remarkable manifesto entitled ""Progress, Coexistence and InteHectua1 Freedom,'hhieh suggested how the two superpowers could cooperate to solve the world's problems. After this, he was denied security clearance and was dismissed from his research position. Thus, by force of ofticial paliqphe ceased to be a working scientist, All throughout the 1970s he turned to the West far publicity about many indi.viditzalinjustices in the USSR, In 19"7, he was awarded the No-

Scl'entis:slsand the Toalitarian St;cete / 181

bel Peace Prize, but he was not permitted ta travel to receive it. He was warned ~o stop meeting with anti-soviet forces, and a period of official persecution began. He and his famity were subjected to all manner af harassment by the KGB, and in I980 he was arrested and sent into internal exile in C o r b There he underlook hunger striks several times in an attempt to induce the authorities to allow his wife to ga to the W s t for urgent medical treatment, For this act of defiance, he was subjected to the torture of Eorce-feeding (the authorities did not want to have his death on their hands). Support from the West, especially from some American physicists, was important in discouraging the worst excesses of the KGB and encouragiing Sabarov's everltuaf release. When MiMlail Gorbachev came to power in 1985, the system at last began to relent, and Sakhair~v'swife Elena Bonnel- was dlowedl to ga abroad, although he himself bad to stay because he had had access (some years before) ta military secrets. Under Garbaeherr's new policy af ~EC;ESMQS$, Sakhairov was released from internal exile, and he immediately took a leading glace amongst those campaigning Tor further reform. As someone who had for so long made eloquent statements for freedam af thought, human rights, peaceful eoegstence, and care for the enGronment and who had courageously endured the worst that the system could do to him, he had tremendous moral authority. He soon found a place in the new, apen, and genuinely lively parliament and immediately demanded even more rapid change toward democracy His national stature had become such that Gorbachev himself had to pay his respects at Saikharov's funeral in late 1989, No doubt he could have made more of a contrihrution ta pure physics had he not chosen to involve himself so deeply in social matters ar had he been born into a different political system in which such commitmer-rtwas not so urgently needed. But perhaps his moral and palitical achievement in the USSR will be judged as being at least as important as the scientific work he might athewise have done,

9.3 Scientistsin Contempor

Totalitarian Regimes The choices for scientists under present-day dictatorships =main stark. Consider the case of flussain Shahristani, an Iraqi nuclear physicist, educated in Britain and Canada, who refused to cooperate in building an atomic bomb .for Saddam Hussein, His expertise would have been crucial ta such a pmject, and if he had participated, Iraq might wel have had a nucfear weapon to use in the brief Gulf War of 1991. Shahristani was called in by ane of Saddam" lieutenants and told, menacingly, "ny-

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body who does not sefve his c o u r l ~ ydoes not deserve to be alive, so 1 hope you understand the message." He bravely rcpiied, "Yes 1 kulw what you mean, perhaps I even agree with you that we are all obliged to serrre our country; but X may have a different view of what constittxtes s e ~ c e " (Bhatia 1992). In fact, Shahristani's brains were of taa much pstential value to the regime far him ta be killed.,He was hideously and repeatedly torr-ured, and &rears were made against his wife and three small children. tib'herr he heroicauy maintained his rehsal to serve in the Iraqi nuclear program, he was sentenced to twenty years~mprisonment.He served ten years-much of it in solitary confinement-but was able to escape across the border to Iran in the confusion caused by Ibe bombing of Baghdad during the Gulf War. Other Iraqi scientists, to Shahristani's disgust, cooperated with Saddarn" regime quite willingly ar gave in under pressure. But one wolxld have to apply a very high moral standard indeed to criticize arryone for capitularirlg to such barbaric and ruthless methods. fn other countries, scientists who publicly dissent from the ruling regime also get into major trouble. In China, astrophysicist Fang Lidti, together with his wife Li Shtxxian (also a physicist), spoke out against the rthing Communist party at various times since the 1950s. At the time of the incipient democracy movement of the 19806, Fang Ljzhi was one of its intellectual leaders (some Chinese called him ""ourSakharov'". W ~ e n the movement was brutally crushed by tanks in Tiananmen Sqtxare, he and his wife took rehge in the U.S. embassy in Beijing and w r e later able to emigrate to the West. In this ease, it was 1101$6 much the content of his area of expertise as it was his being a distinguished scientist with Western connections that gave Lizhi the oppoguniq to be a leader of political opposition. The independent-min$ea, critical spirit required for the pmper practice of science (see 1.1and 3. 1) does not easily fit into totalirarian societies. But it is quite common for scientists (Eke many ather specialists) to keep their work in one mental compartment, separate from the other aspects of their lives, whether personal, political, or religious. Under harsh and brutal regimes, one can hardly blame scientists for getting an with their work, prudently keeping their heads down while hoping for better times, ft is only the dramal.ic and heroic cases of conflict and oppositian that we get to hear abow.

Suggestions for Further Reading Bernstein, J, E992, ""The Farm Ha11 Transcripts: The German Scientists and the Bomb," The Mew York Review, Cassidy D. C. E992. &certainty: The Lifii and Science cfWerrzer Heisevtberg.

Scl'entisB and the Toalitarian St;cete / 183 HeiXbran, J, 2986. me Dilemmas of an Uprigizt Man: M m PIanck as a Spokessnan for German Science. Joravsb, D, 29'70. The Lysenko Agai~: Jun&, R. 1958, Brighter Than a Thsusand Suns: A Personal Hismy ofthe Ammk Scienfisgs, Medvede~~ Z. 1969. The Rise and FaEl of7: L), Lyset-zko. Powers,T. 2993, HeisenbergS VVars:Tile Secret His folly qf ttze German Bomb. Sakharov, A. 1990, Memoirs,

Not many scientists attairr political powr, and in the rare cases in which one does, he or she ineviably ceases to be a working scientist. No one has enough time and energy to make a success af bath accupations, each being so demanding in its o m way. One example of this trade-off is Chaim Wizmann (2874-1952),the chemist who aided the British war effort as director of the Admiralty Labs from 1914 ta 1918 and extracted in return a promise from the British government to support the establishment of a hameland for the Jews, He then gave up science and devoted himself very single-mindedly and suecessfufly to the Zionist campaign to found the state of Israel, of which he became the first president, Very few scientists, however, exercise any significant political influence, and scientists will be bund to take as great a variety of attitudes toward the government and the political system of their respective countries as other citizens, We will be concerned here only with cases irr which there is same relationship between a scientist's expertise and political invoEvements. In the previous c h a p t e ~we illustrated the options open to scientists under totalitarian regimes. Mre will now look at some instructive case stlxdies of the involvement of scientists in democratic politics, A few have exercised considerable behind-the-scenes influence on government policy It is, of course, their knowledge af some relevant fieldrockets, bombs, nuclear energy, agriculture, or medicine-thait qualities them as expert advisers, But technical expeflise is not enough; to be influential, a scientist needs to have the ear of her political masters, and she is unlikely to get it unless she is in basic syrrlyathy with their aims (or at least presents herself as such). Most scientists are primariiy concerned with their own research and will be ready ta do anything (anydlixlg Legal, anycvay!) to get the means and the aeedonl to proceed with it, Scientists may campaign vigorously far better public .funding, they may argue behind the scenes lFor it, and they may lobby against governmental restrictions on their projects, As well, scierrtiscs may have strong views aboM how their specialized knowledge should be used and may l s b b to turn those .views into pol-

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icy, Biologists and ecologists tend to have policy concerns connected with their own topics of study, for example, halting pollution ofthe environment and the destruction sf species and ecosystems, and many scierrlists have p b l c l y committed thernsehes to such causes,

10.1 Scientists and Nuclear Weapons We shall now examine the role sf certain physicists in what is perhaps the mast famous (ar notorious) af all applications sf science-the construction of the first atomic bomb in the United States in the early 1940s and the postwar development of increasingly sophisticated nuclear weapons, First, a brief sketch of the scientific background is needed, From the beginraing of the mentieth centuqi,the work of Jaseph John Thomsorr, Ernest Rutherford, and Niels Bohr started to unravel the internal structure sf the atom. In the 1920s, classical physics was rapidly restructured by the develogrnerlt of quant-Llm mechanics. An amazirlgy gified generation sf theetretical physicists contributed to this irltellectual revulution, whose consequences still reverberate around the world. There were three main centers of fundamental physics research at the time, all of them in Europe-Rutherford's Cavendish Laboratory in Carnbridge, Bohr's Institute af Theareticat Physics in. Copenhagen, and a manytalented group in G6erllngen in Gemany, which included the young Heisenberg (see 9.1). Applications for their work were nat foreseen at this stage-it was pure science, done for its intellectual interest alone, Lord Rutherford n~aintaineduntil his death in 193"7hat talk of releasing atomic enerw was 'hoonshine.'". C). C, Nier, who first developed the technique used to isolate uranium-235, the isotope that hefed the first atomic bomb, noted that no one in government took basic atomic research very seriously in the early 1930s. The physicists we= "interested in finding aut what made things tick inside the nuclei af atoms" Wier 1978, interview for the Urriversiry of Minnesota alumrzi magazine). Nier noted that in srder to get financing to build accelerators in those days, they had t s appeal to possible medical applications,

Szilard: Worn'es About Nuclear Warfare Leo Szilard (1898-19634) was a Hungarian-born physicist who had to change countries three times, first to Germany to escape the uphewds in his native land and get a scientific education in Berlin, then ta England ta escape the rising tide of Nazism, and finally to the United Sta.tes to find employment, 11%1932, Sir lames Chadwick (1891-1974) discovered the neutron, and it was suggested that such a particle without eiec-

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tric charge might be able to penetrate the atomic nucleus. In 1933, just aker his Bight to England, Szilard seems to have been rhe first scientist to conceive af the possibility af a nuclear chain reaction if an element whose nucleus w u l d emit two neutrons after s w a H o ~ n gone could be found. Realizing the enormous enerw h a t might thus be released and being all too vividly aware of the darkening political situation in Europe (he had formed strong antimilitarist views after his early experiences in Hungary during World War l), Szilard suggested to pElysicists h a t they should stop publishing their results to keep them secret from potential enemies. But at this stage, before any real prospect of atomic ener&ywas apparent and behre the Nmis became a threat to their neighbors, nobsdy rook seriously this unusual proposal for restricting the free flow of scientific ideas, tn fact, atoms w r e being split in various labs wltbout anyone realizing it, The first chain reaction was probabk brought about in Rome bgi Enrico Fermi (1901-195.1). In 1935, Frkd6ric and Irene JoIiot-Curie received the Nobe1 Prize for their discovery of artificial radioactivity In their speech at Stocmolm, they suggested that scientists might now be able to cause nuclear transformations af an enormously explosive character, Yet even these dramatic words aroused only gassing interest. In 1938, Hahn and Strassmann, working in Nazi Germany, had dernonstrated that what had been happening in Fermi's experiments was the "bursling," or fission, of the nucleus of uranium. Eariy in the blowing year, Otto Frisch and Lise Meitner (a rare example of a w o m n who gained recognition on the frontier of physics) showed that large amounts of energy were libemted by such fissioxl, (See the discussion of Heisenberg in 9.1,) These papers were quicHy published, in accordance with standard scientific practice, Szilard (by then in the United States) confirmed to his own satisfaction that further neutrons were given off in the fission of uranirml, so the chain reaction he had envisioned realty could happen. Again he suggested a voluntary moratorium s n publication, and this time he was listened to, at least in the tmited States; physics had progressed, and politics had degenerated, since his previaus proposal. But as is typical at the m o ~ n li-antier g of research, sther scientists, in this case Fr&d&ricJoliot-Curie of France (son-in-law of Mcrrie Curie), were on the psinr of mrrking the same discoveries themselves, Displaying normal scientific keenness to take the credit (as well as French unwillingness to take advice from abroad), Jofiot published the result in Nature ~ E Aprii Z 1939. Tt seemed as if physics was presenting the world with a huge, new, and explosive force just in time for the war that now appeared inevitable. German pllysicists clearly knew about the theoretical possibiliry of nuclear fission, and when Germany .forbade the export sf X aX uranium are,

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it looked as if the Nazi government knew, too. If Germany were to acquire sole use of atomic bombs, it migflt mle the vvortd. Szilard and his csleagues (including Fermi and the youthful Edward Teller] were now urgently concerned with persuading the U.S. government to take the threat seriously But refirgee scientists who were not even U.S. citizens had no palitical clout in Mrashinson and no means of access to the highest authorities, The difficulty was eventually overcome by an introdtxction to President Roosevelt%friend and adviser Atexander Sachs, who encouraged Szilard to draft a letter to the president. As a sort af ""X-Elo'" on this fateful missive, Szilard and Teller persuaded Einstein (who enjuyed legendary scientific fame) to add his signature. Sachs finally succeeded in bringing it to Raosevelt's attention in October 1939, a month after the war began in Europe. Twa years of experimentation and bureaucratic discussion followed before the U.S. government eventually decided to try to develop an atomic bomb. Szilard's energetic persistence in bringing the new atomic potential to the notice sfthe strongest power in the world had at last borne fruit in a major governmental decision. Szilard then contributed t s the success af the "Manhattan Project'" (the code name for the U.S. effort to develop an atomic bomb), He and Fermi brougltt about the world's first corltrolled nuclear chair1 reaction in former squash courts at the Unhersity of Chicago in December 1942. It was not long before Szilard became concerned a'bolxt a new political States might make of the problem, namely, the use that the U~~ired weapon. As the production af the first atomic bomb neared compltetion, Germmy was already defeated by converrliond means, and US. authorities began to consider using the new bomb to finish the war against Japan. Szilard said afterward that "in 1945, when we ceased worrying aborlt what the Germans might do to us, we began ta worry about what the government of the United Stares might do to other counaies"' (Ruuz6 1963, "71. Once again he got Einstein's signature an a letter to Raasevelt, this time warning against an atomic arms race, but the ailing pfesident did not get to read the letter before he died. Szitard then tried to reach the new president, Harry Trurnan, but was only given an interview with lfamesE Bymes (who later became Trurnan" secretary of state), Ever the far-sighted politicd rhinkert Szilard laid before Byrnes his ideas for internationail control of atomic energy; involving partial surrender af national sovereignty to the extent of alowing Soviet inspection of U.S. irlstallations and vice versa. Only very recently have any such arrangements been seriously considered, but in an America still in the closing stages of a costly war and before the first explosion of an atomic bomb, they must have seemed uaerly fantaaic to an average puliticiarl like Byrnes.

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Szilard discussed the possible uses of the bomb with his feHow workers on the Manhattm Prdect, and their worries reached the University af Chicago, which appointed a committee of seven scientists to discuss the ""soeial and political consequences of atomic energy.'Yts chairman was physicist James Franck, but Szilard w s also a member; and it seems that his ideas strongly influenced the eloquently argued document that came to be k n o w as the ""Franck Report," With great prescience, they wrote, "If no efilicient irllernational agfeement is achieved, the race Tor nuclear armaments will be on in earnest not later than the morning after our first demonstration of the existence of nuclear weapons." The committee advised agairlst their immediate military use against Japan and recommended instead that the first explosion be on a desert: or a barren island, with U,N, obsewers, so that the United States could say to the throrld: "YOUsee what sort of a weapon we had but did not use, Mre are ready to renounce its use ir-rthe future if other nations join us in this renunciation and agree to the establishment of an efficient control," This report was submitled to the U.S. government, M,tlich refened it in June 1945 to a panel of four atomic exper&. The panet did nor support the idea af a demonstration explosion, and in August the first two bambs were dropped on Himshima arld Nagasaki. M e r the war, Szilard continued to try to infiuence political policy and was a leader of the initially successful lobby .for civilian control over atomic energ. But in most matters he had little influence, It was unlilcely that the U.S. authorities were goitlg to take advice from scientists a n matters af political and military policy. The genie of atomic power was trufy allt of the bottle,

Bohr: Failure to Influence Churchill or ftoosevelt Niels Bohr 11885-1962) was one of the grealest theoretical physicisa of this century. Perhaps more than anyone else, he can be credited with unveiling the rnygeriatrs inner secrets of atomic structure, Tbwarci the end afVVsrld War XI, as the Anglo-American atomic bomb project neared its fruition, Bohr's scientific preeminence briefly wan him the ear of the leaders of both countries. But as we shall see, he was no more able than Szilard to infltlence them with his fine ideas about postwar international cooperation. Bohr combined lave of his own small country, Denmark, with receptiveness to other cultures and currents of thought, After earning his doctorate at Copenhagen, he wem to England to s ~ r d with y J, ]. l'homson at Cambridge and with Errlest Rutherford, who was then at Manchester, Back in Copenhagen as an assistant professor before Mrorld War I, the

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brilliaxat young Dane was alwady beginning to revolutionize his srtbject. He took up Plancgs idea that energy comes in disr3rete indivisible packets and applied it to atomic structure, suggesting that an atom can pass abruptly between a number of possible states, emitting or absorbing a qumtum of energy irr each transition, After the war, Bohr was given a full professorship, and a new Tnstitilte of Theoretical Physics was built for him, which was to be his intellectual home for the rest of his life. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1922, Througtl the following decadethose golden years of physics when knowledge af the field moved s s far and so fast, with a galadcy of talents making variously brilliant contributions-Bohr and his inslitute were pivotal to this quickly developing subject. Wi5fl his impish humor, his apparmt inability to state a w h i n g clearly, and his unique intuition. about tiny but powerhl atomic realities, he teased out the meaning arzd vitldity of the paradoxical new theories. By 1939, it was clear that release af atomic energy was possible in a chain reaction involving fission of uranittm atoms, Bohr realized that the only problems remaining were technical, Despite tempting offers from the United States, he felt he had to stay in his native land and do what he colxld to keep his institute going. So he did not leave when the Nazis invaded in 1940. But as the tide of war began to turn against Germany, Danish resistance increased, and the Nazis started arresting Ieading citizens, Bohr escaped in a risky nocturnal passage ta Sweden in a small boat, In Stocbolm, a telegram soon came ta him from Lord Cherwell (Churchill's aaid~ssron sdence) with an invitation to England, the obvious but unstsed implicatiort being that he was needed to help with atamic work. A British plane flew ta neutrait Sweden to pick up this precious cargo sf nuclear expertise. Bohr had to sit in. the bomb bay, equipped with a parachtxte and flares in case of emergency ejection, The plane flew high, and Bohr was told to turn on his oxygen supply, but the helmet did not fit his huge head; he failed to hear the instruction and lapsed into unconsciousness, Mercifully, that unique scientific brain was unimpaiwd and soon at work in London, advising s n "Tube Alloys," the code name for the British atomic bomb project, Even at this early stage, Rohr was raisirtg worries he had about a postwar atomic arms race. Rivalry already existed between the British and American teams, and they competed ta recruit B o h ~But after agreement on fixll collaboration, the British consented to send ail their top pjtlysicists to the United States, and thus it was that Bohr crossed the Atlantic. He was met by the U.S. Secret S e ~ c and e instructed that he must call himself "Nicholas Baker" in the future, something he could not always remember to do. Bohr spent the summer of 1944 in Los Alamas, New Mexico, where a military laboratory had been

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specially constructed for the nuclear pmject because it was best for bath scientific and securig reasons to have all the research conducted at one location, There he found many old scientific friends hard at work, and it was decided that the best way to use Bohr's unique expertise would be to have him make a generat review of d l phases of the work to ensure nurrhing had been overlooked., Back in Washingon, Bohr found a chaxlce to air his concerns about the postwar situation as an advisor to President Raosevett. The president expressed interest, being aware that nuclear proliferation was a problem that he and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill would have to face sooner or liltet Bohr got the itrlpressiun that he was authorized to tell Churchill that the president would welcome suggestions on the matter, Thus, he was sent back t s Londan belieGng that he had ai chance to persuade the Allied leaders to internationalize aH use of atomic energy after the war and avoid the arms race between East and W s t that he feared, Unfortunately, the intemiew with Chlxrchill was a disaster, Bohr was not noted for his clarity even to physicists working in his own field (some have reported that it was often difficult to decide what language he was trying to speak!). Upon being ushered in to meet the buldoggish prime minister, Bohr began to speak in his l w , whispering voice, building up his argument slowly as in a seminar, but Churchill had no patience for any such academic performance, m e n Lord Cherivell tried to put in a helpful word, he and Churchill got into an argument of Citleir awn, which took UP much af the half hour allotted far the interview. Bohr did not even get as far as his main point, that the new atomic howledge forced the choice between a dangerous arms race or a new international order, Despairingly, he asked an his way out if he cauld send Churchill a memorandum of what he had wanted to say, but the tatterk reply was, '"t will be an honour for me to receive a letter from you-but not about politics." It is probable that nothing even the most eloquent lobbyist could have said wolxld have made much difference, Churchill was resoluteZy opposed to arry breach of the secrecy surrounding the atomic bomb, especiatly as regarded the Soviets. Back in Washingan and crestfallen, Bohr had a second chance when President Roosevelt expressed an interest in hearing his ideas. Accurdingly, he entered the Oval Office, armed with a carefully drafted memarandum, This time he met with what seemed a much better reception; the relaed, genial Roosevelt joked about Churchill's belligererrt moods and made some show of support for international control after the war, (The president was h o w n for his charm and his tendency ta let people think he agreed with them.) Yet when Roosevelt and Churchill met again in 1944, any sympathy the former might have had with Bahrk propasals

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disappeared like smoke in the wind. The two leaders agreed to maintain the utntlost secrecy about the incipient atomic bomb, discussed its use against Japan, and proposed that Angla-American work on it would cantinue after the end of the war. Churchill even cast doubt on Bohr's reliabiliv and loydry and accused him of breaking secrecy about the bomb. His advisars had t s argue very strenuously that any such suspicisns were completely unjustified. Why did Ruoswelt not follow up on his apparenr: s p p a h y with Bohr's ideas? There are several plausible reasons: He was getting physically weaker [he was to die in less than a year), perhaps he did not like to r increasdisagree with Churchill, and perhaps his distrust of S ~ l i rwas ing, But very strong polilical facmrs were also at work, which persist to the present day No nation likes to abandon an apparent advantage aver rivals, as the proposal for sharing atomic knowledge would have implied, Nor does m y state Mllingty give up any aspect of its sovereignty, as the enforcement of international control would have required. No leader seems able to resist for long the feeling that his colxntry must be as strong as passible.

Oppenheimer: Rise and Fall from Political Grace F. Robert: Oppenheimer (1903-1967) came to center stage vvith the construction of the first atomic bomb, He was the scientific director of the Manhattan Raject, which, by means of an unprecedented cancentraitiorz of scientif c and industrial resources, succeeded in raking a, theoretical possibility and mrning it into a usable wapon. But despite the public adulation that this achievement brought him and the influence on U.S. aomic policy that he exercised for a time &er the war, he was to fa11 from power in highly controversial circumstances. The precocious young Rabert Oppenheimer majored in chemistry at H m r d while developing a deeper interest in physics. He to England and then to Cije~tingenirr Germav in the 1920s, where he hund the casmopalitan atmosphere and the ferment of ideas more cangenial. He completed a Ph,D, and began to feel that he colxld make a real contribution to pttysics. On his return the United States, he took up a professorship at the University of CalilFarnia at Berkeley; where he built up an important school of theoretical physics from almost nothing during the 1930s. He was a hero to his students, at least to those who became members of his clique, Through friends like Jean Tatlock, he became involved in left-wing actiGties, At this time of sympathy with the Regublican side in the Spanish civil war, when not much was known ofthe terrible events inside the Soviet m i o n , many intellectuals admired the

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ideals of the Communist Party. Some of Oppenheimer's friends were members of the party, but he never joined it himself. As he approached his fortieth year, Oppenheimer knew that he had not achieved any great distinction in physics. But then came his chance to work on one of the most dramatic applied science projects of all time. In the early years of the war, together with other U.S. nuclear physicists like E. 0. Lawrence (1901-1958), the inventor of the cyclotron, Oppenheimer began to work on the theoretical possibility of an atomic bomb. In 1941, he calculated how much of the isotope uranium-235 would have to be brought together to produce an atomic explosion (the "critical mass"). By 1942, the U.S. government had at last put its weight behind the Manhattan Project, and General Leslie Groves of the U.S. Army was put in charge of it. Groves heard of Oppenheimer's research and was so impressed with his scientific and organizational abilities that he had him appointed as scientific director of the bomb project despite the objections of the security services, who were concerned about Oppenheimer's left-wing contacts in the 1930s. Oppenheimer exercised his persuasive charm to induce many of the best scientists in America to join him in this highly secret project at Los Alamos in the southwestern desert. From 1943to 1945, he helped overcome the many obstacles that lay in the way of a usable bomb: the theoretical problems; the technical difficulties; and last but not least, the management of a disparate group of hitherto purely academic scientists working under military discipline in uncomfortable conditions and cut off from communication with the outside world except under censorship. It was not surprising that relationships were sometimes strained. This was especially the case with Edward Teller, who had already foreseen the theoretical possibility of a fusion (hydrogen) bomb and seemed more keen to work on this idea than to get on with the job that was immediately at hand. By April 1945, the 'Rlsos" mission of the U.S. Army advancing across Europe had established that the Germans were nowhere near producing an atomic bomb. Thus, the original motivation for producing the bomb--to save the world from Nazi tyranny--evaporated. One scientist, Joseph Rotblat, left the project at this stage, but the rest carried on. The political and military authorities were not going to abandon the investment they had made just when there seemed to be real hope of a very powerful new weapon. And the scientists were fueled by the technical interest-and indeed, excitement--of seeing what they had worked on so long and so diligently brought to fruition. The first atomic test took place on July 16, 1945. The date was chosen in the hope of strengthening President Truman's bargaining position at the Potsdam conference. The Americans were considering using the

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bomb against Japan, arld at this stage, Upyellfleirner was coopted to an advisory scientific panel on the possible uses of the new weapon. h we have just seen, Szilard and others argued far a demonstration explosion followed by an invitarion to surrender; but it seems that Oyperlheinler did not object to the proposed use on Japan. The first bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945, and the secand (which was fileled bp plutonium, not uranium) on Nagasaki a few days later. Oppenheimer, like many of his colleagues in the Manhattm Project, began to feel a certain sense of guilt about the mass destruction they had made possible, In a lecture at M171 in 194L he spoke, in one of the memorable phrases he was so good at coining, of the physicists '"having known sin." Of course, the final decision to drop the bomb was made not by the scientists but by President Truman (with whom, as he said, the buck stopped), But the president had been given advice, and Oppexlheirner had been a member of the advisory panel. A weapon canstrueted .for one purpose-to prevent Nazi dominatioxl af the worldcame to be used for another-to indtxce immediate and unconditional Japanese surrender, Many have argued that another strong motivation was to impress the SoGet Union, which was all-eady seen as the Western powerskain rival in the pasmar world. M e r the war, Oppenheimer nominally returned to academic life but increasingly played a political role as an expert adviser behind the scenes, The newly folxnded Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) formed a General Advisory Committee (GAC) on scientific and technical matters, and he was the natural choice as its chairman. In the world ofwshington politics, Ize began as an amateur but quickly picked up many of the rules of the game, In political infighting, however, his caustic wit and haughty dismissal of opposing vliews made him some powerhl enemies, And meanwhile, in the atmosphere of "'cold war" "tb. the USSR, the FBI, in its persistent bureaucratic way, was maintaining its surveiEEance of Qppenheimer and building up its files an him. The most important decision on which he next had some influence was whether the United States should make a hydrogen b a d , which would use nuetear -Fusion rather than fission and be much mare powerful than the atom bombs used in Japan. Edward Teller had been enthusiastic about this idea ever since it was first conceived, and his chance to push for its development came when the USSR exploded its first atomic device in 1949, much sooner than expected. Teller and his supporters began to lobtry members of the GAC, but Oppenheimer thought a "isuper" h m b would not be feasible, being too big to be deliwrable by air and of no more militaw use than a large fission bomb, Moreove~;he was worried that the possibility of an even more powerful weapon wsuld capture the imagination af Congress and the militav as the only possi-

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ble answer to the Russian threat. The GAC concurred with this opinion, and two of its members (Fermi and lsidor Rabi) went haher, adding a minority report that condemned the H-bomb on ethical grounds. But this position was to hold for only two months. Pressure groups incIuding Teller were working behind the scenes to reverse it, Then it was disclosed that Haus Fuchs had been passing atomic secrets to the Russians for many years, irlcludirlg even Teller's ideas Por the hflrogexr bomb. Shortly thereafter, in early 1950, President Truman announced the decision ta proceed with work on the H-bomb. Teller m n t ahead with enthusiasm, of course, but the project soon faced technicat dimcuities that looked insuperable, Only when Teller came up with a new merllod Eor setting off Ehe fusion of the H-bomb in 1951 were these overcame, and when this breakthrough was explained to Oppenheimer; he said [in another of his famolxs phrases) that the idea was now so "technically sweet" that going ahead with it was now irresistible; they would think about what to do with it after its success (Row4 1965,03f. This is hardly the language of someone with objections on mmat principle to weapons thar could desrrvy large cities at one blow. It seems as if Qpgenheimerk earlier otajectians to the H-bomb were more pmgmatic than ethical, Oppenfreimer's dekat over this policy question was fullowed by the notorious security hearing of 1954.As the Cold War with the USSR developed in the late -1940sand early 1950s, suspicion of anyone in the United States with even remotely left-wing tendencies grew to paranoiac extremes. Senator Toe McCarthy; in particular, led the movement to find "communists" and have them removed from their jobs. At this time, J, Edgar Hoover" FBI presenfed its files on 0ppe"lheimer to President Eisenhower. They documented Qppenheimer's le&-wingassaciatisns in the -1930~~ his duplicity when interrogal-ed by securiity officiats in the 1940s [he had tried ta protect li.iends and acquaintances from their inquiries), and his opposition to the H-bomb mare recently All this was used to arme that he should no longer be tmsted with matters of national security. Me elected not to resign votuntarily from his official positions but ta face a full hearing, which soan took on, all the worst aspects of a trial. His past was combed through \ruitfr mei-ciless &tention to every rxrrRatterirrg detail. Many distinguished scierzrisrs testified on his behdf, but in one of the mast crucial pieces of testimony;,Edward Teller, while not accusing Oppenheimer of disloyal.ty; said he did not trust his judgment and would prefer that matters of rlationat security were in other hands, The verdict went against him, and aXI his government cannections were severed. He retained his academic position as director of the Institute for Advanced Study at Princet on University [where Einst ein

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was), but despite his devoted s e r ~ c to e the war effort, he was now publicly disgraced, One obvious moral of this hscinating and many-faceted tale is that the scientists who develop an application of science cannot ensure that it will be used only for ends h e y approve. h o t h e r is that the scientist who tries to exercise political influence is as much subject to the vicissitudes of paliticd fortkxne as anyone else,

Telkec H-Bombs and Star Wars If one measures influence in terms of billions of dollars spent, Edwal-d Teller (1908-) may well be the most powerful scientist of all time. He has been the prime scientific mover behind two enormous projects af US. defense policy-the creation of the hydrogen bomb in the 1950s and more recently, the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), or '"tar Wars" as it was p~puflarlyknown, It would seem to be not merely his scientific expertise that has given him this irtnuence brlt the strength of his personality and his anti-Communist atlicude, which won him much fawr with U.S. politicians and military leaders. Teller" political attittxdes m r e presumably formed early in life as a result of his bitter experiences with anti-Semitism and diaaforship in Europe. Because he was Jewish, the brilliant young Teller was denied entry to universities in his nMiw t-fungary He had to go to Germany for higher education (as well as his compatriots Leo Szilard and mathematiciarl John van Neumann, who also ended up in the United States), Teller was one of the many visitors ta Bohrk Institute of Theoretical Physics in Copenhagen, and he also formed a friendship with rhe aristocratic German physicist CarX E van Weizsacker, But as Hitler rose to power, Jews were persecuted by sttxdents with Nazi sympathies, even in hitherto peaceful German universilies like GBettingen. Teller found sanctuary in the United States. His experience of discrimination and persecution clearly left hint with a ~ l r o n gfeeling of revlltsiotl against totatitariarl regimes, which he later applied to the Saviet Union. aware af the possibilities Like some other physicists, Teller was ~Gdlyof nuclear fission, and he and Szilard were the ones who tracked down Einstein at his Long Island vacation home in the summer of 1939to get his signature on the f a m ~ uletter s to President Roosevelt*But Teller was soon thinking further ahead, Sometime in 1941 the idea of a mueh more powerful bontlb occuned to him and Femi over lunch: Perhaps a fission '"rigger" could create enough heat to induce hydrogen atoms to fuse together, as they do in the sun, releasing vastly more ertere than even a fission bsmb, which was itself still only a theoretical possibilify, The following

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year Teller joined a group ito study the theory of atomic bombs, and after a while he began to monopolize the discussion with talk of the "superF' bomb, at a time when they were nowhere near a practical fission version, Then they thought of a still more frightening possibility, Calculations suggested that a fission reaetion might produce enough heat to induce fusion between hydrogen and the nitrogen in the atmosphere, Could the first sornic bomb ignite the air itself and thus put an end to all life on earth? It would be an understatement to say that much depended on getting these esoteric theoretical arguments right! Compared with bfowing up the whole world, even Nazi domination would be the lesser evila&er all, the latter could hardly last forever. Someone deteced an apparent in the calculations But how sure could they be of either verdiCt? At ane point, they estimated the chances of atmospheric ignition at three in a million, a risk that some of the group were apparently prepared to take. Teller claimed afierwards that his mistake in calculating that an atomic bomb might ignite the air was quickly corrected, and that the question did not worry them therea&er, (This story dramaticdly illrjlsrates the problem of what attitude to take in the face of a small, not precisely quantifiable risk of a stupendous disaster-a problem that recurs in many other contexts, such as evaluating the safety of nuclear reactors, the release of genetically engineered orgmisms into the environment, and nuclear deterrence as a defense palicy) Teller was summoned to join the Manhattan Project at Los Mamos in 1943, He admired Oppenheimer as its director but wns unable to get along with him, and neither would he conform to the military discipline imposed on scientists working there. He seems to have always been a maverick, temperamentally incapable of taking orders from anyone. He was supposed to be helping produce the first fission bomb, but he was obsessed with the possibijity of fusion, In the end, all the Los Alamos authorities could do with him was to let him get on with his own ideas irrdependently af the main project. His relationship with Oppenheirner deteriorated. Even their memories later disagseed, for example, over their aflittrdes to the petition organized by Szilarcf.askirrg the president not to use the bomb on Japan without g i ~ n gthem a chance of surrendering first-which 'Teller claims to have supported. Mter the war, when Oppenheimer had left h s Marnos, Teller was offered the second most important post there. But he judged that he would not have been free to work on his beloved "super" b m b , so he went to the Uni\lersity of Chicago inswad. From there, he campaigned for his pet project, arguing that just as Hitler could have gotten the atomic bomb first, so now there was a risk that the S o ~ e t would s beat the United Stses in the race to develop the hydrogen bomb. Tslter found little suppart until the explosion of the first Soviet fission bomb in 2949,

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after which his persistent promotion of the H-bomb found the political wind blowing in its favor. There was a brief protest against the decision to make a hydrogen bomb by scientists as distinguished as Einstein, Szilard, and Hans Bethe, but to no avail. Such was the political atmosphere of the time that an issue of ScientificAmerican containing arguments against making thermonuclear weapons was confiscated as dangerous to national security. The H-bomb has since been a fact of military and political life. Ironically enough, Teller was not involved in the final birth of his "baby." Though he returned to Los Alamos to work on the development stage, he (once again!) did not get along with his colleagues there, and so he left. Thus, it came about that the prime inventor of the ultimate weapon sat alone on the coast of California to watch for the shock wave that was evidence of its first explosion far out in the Pacific. Shortly thereafter, Teller and his influential friends in Washington were pressing for the foundation of a second nuclear weapons laboratory. The proposal found favor with the air force (interservice rivalries were, and remain, an important part of the hidden infighting behind weapons policies). So started the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory, with Teller as its guiding light (althoughhe formally occupied the post of director for only a brief period). At last he had his own show to run. At the time of the notorious security hearing about Oppenheimer, Teller was the only scientist to testify against him. His most damaging statement was, "If it is a question of wisdom and judgment, as demonstrated by actions since 1945, then I would say one would be wiser not to grant clearance." Teller's long-standing resentment of Oppenheimer's influence over scientists and politicians-and in particular, of the obstacles he put in the way of the development of the H-bomb--were compressed into that one crucial sentence. What was supposed to be a decision about security clearance had become a political trial, a test of loyalty to what was now the government line. After the hearing, Teller was ostracized by much of the U.S. physics community for his part in the affair. Through the years since those notorious episodes, Teller has remained at the forefront of U.S. military physics, ensconced in his base in the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory. He has been invited to deliver many prestigious lectures and has adapted some of them into books for the lay reader. In these works, he has argued for the necessity of nuclear deterrence and the safety of nuclear power and asserted the duty of the scientist to find new knowledge and explore its possible applications. He wrote that the only other duty of the scientist is to explain the knowledge and techniques as clearly as possible, leaving it to the people as a whole to decide what use, if any, to make of them (see the quotation

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from him in 2.6). This, of course, soltnds admirably democratic-who could disagree with it? But it is worth asking how far this ideal was applied t s the actuat devefapment af the H-bomb ar af the atom bomb that pli-eceded it, Were the American people given any choice? The crucid decisions to dewlop, test, and deploy the bombs were made before the public knew about the matter at all, Influential individuals like Teller lobbied vigorously for certain decisions, He is not the sort of scientist who does his work and then sits back and hands it to the people (or their elected representatives), saying, "Here are the scientific results; you do with them as you think best." Obviottsly, he had very definite views about how science should be applied and maneuvered very effectively over the years to get his ideas accepted by those in power. The same pattern is found in Teller's m m recent brainchild, the SDI program, which President Reagaxz first announced to a wondering world in 1983.The prospect was put before the h e r i c a n peetple of an effective shield against incoming nuclear missiles that would shoot them down, B la Star Wars, by means of a computer-based system of nuclear-powered lasers, W o could criticize the ideal of deknse, after dl?Wll, apparently many people, Criticisms have varied from straightforward doubt that any such system could ever be perfectly effective (for if one or two missiles get through, millions of people may still die) to suspicion that the whole thing was only a cynical public relations front for an attempt to defend U.S. missile sites so that a nuclear war coltld be "won," Matever the h11 truth of this matter, one thing is certain: SDI was not dreamed tlp by Ranald Reagan the day before his speech. Teller and his associates had been at work for many years, exploring the technical possibilities and tryirlg to keep the military irrterested.,Vast sums were expended, and the program was continued, though with less impetus, under President Bush, Many academic scientists refused to participate and campaigned against it. Most n w agree that it never could have worked. In 1985, it was shown at Bell Labs to be theoretically impossible .for SDI to filnctiorz as a complete shield against incoming missiles, since the decision-pmblem for the computers would h w e been rnarhernaticdly irrsoltxble, Research then switched to much less ambitious partial de-fcszzse, Some may argrle thal the whole dzing was less siniser than it seems, beirrg berica's peculiar way of fttnding ftrndamen~lphysic~esearchand g i ~ n government g subsidy to the economy Defenders of the program now argue that it was a brilliant bluff, because U.S. expenditure on SDI drove the USSR into bankruptcy irr trying to keep up -with the arms race and so brought about its downTaI1. But that is wisdom after the eventSDI was obviously not originaly conceived as a bluff: The full story of SDI remains to be told, and the verdict is not yet clear. But it is not ai case af the public deciding how to use science-and hardly

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of the elected representatives deciding, either. Far better or for wome, ceaain scientists like Teller, if they make the right corrtacts and have politically favored attitudes, can sometimes exert a significant influence s n government policy They cannot then pretend to have no more respansibilify than any other citizen,

10.2 Genetic Engineering

and the Lobbying Scientist Biology has come of age. It was once looked down upon as a junior among ffte sciences. The jibe earlier in this century was that mcept for physics, science was only ""staimp csllecting," that is, natural history that describes the contents of n a r e without theorizing about them (but that vel-dict hardly did justice to Daminian evolutionary theory). But in its new, molecular form, biology has became ane af the mast swiftly advancing areas of science. After World War 11, there was a discernible movement of scientists Erom pttysics inta biolow. This shift occurred partiy because of the feeling expressed by Maurice Wilkins (whose part in the DNA story we mentioned in 6.1) that military applications had spoiled the beautiful subject of physics. But many sensed that biology was where some sl"the most interesting new scientific research and exploration could be done-witness the attitudes of Crick and VViltson, also described in 6.1, In the 1950s and 1 9 6 0 ~following ~ up on the elucidation of DNA, molecular biology was probably the fastest-growingarea of science. Biology has now reached the stage where commercial [and even military) applications are burgeoning, The result is that biologists have had to .face up to awkward questions about the financial, social, and political context of their work, as we shall now see, WatsonS Defense of Genetic Engineering Mre followed the brilliant start sf Tames Watson's career in. 6, J * In the 19"Ts,well established as director af the prestigious Cold Spring Harbor Lafioratory, be ernered a phase of public controversy bmugflt about by the advent of the first techniques of genetic engineering, In 1913, Stanley Cahen, working at Stanhrd University in collaboration with Herbert Boyer of the University of California, performed a pioneering series of experiments that suggested the feasiltili~of vlicing genes from one organism into another, Having extracted the gene-carrying DNA from bacteria, they found that a restriction e n v m e would cut the lang DNA molecules in certain places, that a ligase erlzyme would stick the pieces together again, and that it was then passible to insert the recombined

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DNA into other bacteria, ln later variations on this theme, Cohen and Boyer spliced a section of DNB from a higher organism (a toad courzted as ""higher'?for this purpose) into the DNA af a bacterium, and the toad gene was copied in new generations of the bacteria. Thus, bacteria, and perhaps higher organisms, mi&t be reprogrammed and remodeled by the insef-tionsf extraneous genes. As soon as these techniques were shown to be practicalb effective, worries were eqwssed about the safety of using them on microorganisms, elren under contrslled conditions in the laboratory. Paul Berg and his grolxp at Berkeley thought of splicing together part of a cancer virus vvith a bacterial virus that could get into the bacteria inhabiting the human inestine, Was there not a risk that extremely dangerous bacteria might inadtrertently be createdwight they turn out to be carcinogenic or highly inkctious and perhaps resistam to all known antibiotic9 In one of the more lurid scare stories at the height of this public controversy, Mayor Vellucci of Boston frightened many people when he told some of his political enemies at Harmrd: ""Cod knows what5 going to crawl out of the laboratory?They might even come up with a disease that can't be cured, s r even a monster! Is this the answer to Frankenstein's dream?" "(qlxoted in Langone 1978, 110) Overdramatized as such fears may have been, the molecular biologists hemselves could not prove for certain that disaistraus side effects would not result from applying the new techniques, But they had an obvious professional interest in going ahead, for they wl-r:ewer to use newly available tools to do all sorts of scientificaify interesting (and potentially rewarding] research, This is a type of situation that has occurred elsewhere (for example, consider the debate over the safey of nuclear power stations), and it will recur again and again as science and technslogy proceed, The powers that be-whether they be in government, industry; or science itself-have an irlerest in using n w tedlnologies, and though they rypically try to reassure the public by saying that in their expert opinion the risks are very small, they cannot (when intelligently pressed) prave that there is r?o danger at all. So who is to decide u\iherber the risk is worth taking? 'Fhe debate over the dangem of recombinant DNA tedrnolow brought out different attitudes toward our relation to nature, At issue was the wisdom of such a very basic kind of intervention in biotic nature, with the prospect of guiding, as it were, the forces of evolution itself. Nofiel laureate George Wald, in a public debate sponsored by the National Academy of Sciences, apposed recambinant DNA research in general, aqzring: "A primary danger is that the deliberate production of 'ddesirable' changes in certain organisms migllt result in rhe disruption of the infinitely complex and delicate balance among living things, a balance

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which has slowly evolved in nature. A sudden disturbance of natumit relationships could precipitate a disastrous and irreversibfe bre;rkdown of our ecosystem'' "9X, 10)- Similarly Robert Sinsheimer, then prskssor of biology at the California Institute of Technology, warned against introducing man-made organisms into "our precious and intricately WOven biosphereF7(19"T, 2540). The concern about =combinant DNA experiments was a special case of the general worry that interference with a complex natural system might disrupt delicately balanced relationships, with disastrous results. The commonly expressed warning is that we sholxld not interfere with natural systems when we lack sufficient krrswledge of the consequences. The respsnse by some scientists that recombinant experiments were not redly dangerous appealed to concepts of what is ""naturaI,'"errg and Singer argued: "There is no scientific fact or theory that predics or suppoas the exisrence of a natural barrier @Q gene interchange by diffetrent species); there is no reason to suppose that sealing this hypothetical barrier with recombinant DNA methodology would have the consequences Sinsheimer imagines" [(f976?2542). The case of recombinant DNA research was an unusual one in that the scientists themselves proposed a pause in research while the implications of the new technique were assessed. In a letter to Sil.iencct published s n July 26,197'4, Berg and a number of leaders ofthe field, including Watson himself, proposed a moratorium on all experiments (of certain carefully specified kinds) using the new gene-splicing techniques until the passibIe risks could be evaltxated more precisely. This restriction could only be voXuntaqt for altholxgh it came from the U.S. Natiand Academy of Science" Committee on Recornbinant DNA, it did not have the force sf law in the United States, and there was no way if colxXd have been enforced w o r l d ~ d eNevertheless, , it was observed for a while, providing a rare example of scientists voluntarily hslding back from the usual race for priority in discovery. The moratorium Aid have ai certain moral force in that axryone who tried to jump the gwn on his or her scientific rivals by experimentirrg irr the supposedly dangerous a r e a csufd benefit from doing so only by publishing the results-but then it would be clear to the scientifie community that he or she had bmken the irrformal rule, The Berg letter led to ai famous conference aibsut the safety issues in generic engineering, attended by most of rhe worlds leadislg- molemlar biologists, at the Pacific resag of Asilomar in early 1915, Understandably; they were far .from unanimous in their views. Same vigorously claimed a right to free scientific inquiry; but others such as Sinsheimer continued to argue the need for safe@restrictions. As Sinsheimer wrote a&erwards:

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Here, I think, we have come to recognise that there are limits to the practice of any hulrtan activity;7'0 impose any limit upon freedom sf inquiry is especially bitter for the scientist wkase life is one of inquiry; but science has became too potent. It is no tonger enough to wave the Rag of Galileo, . , , Would we wish to claim the right af individual scientists to create novel selfperpetuating organisms Iitcely to spread about the planet in an uncsntraltabIle lnanner for better or for worse? I think not, 11975, 151)

The majority af attendees at the Asilomair conference, worried that more irksome legal restrictions might be put on their proposed research if they did not act to police themselvesl agreed to classify certain experiments as riskier than others and to recommend t w types of safev rules: physical (itlvolrringspecific laboratory handling procedures) and biolagical (using slrairls olbacteria that were to be artificiaily enkebled to reduce their chances of survivtrt should they escape into the natural enviraxlment). The matter became axle for public debate, political action, and bureaucratic gmcedures, h i d ~despli-eadsuspicion of the whole governmental and scientific establishment (this was, after allI the era of the Warergate scandal, which 1Fol-cedthe resignation of hesident Nixon), many of those most active in public campaigning were keen to put restrictions on research, The U.S. National Institutes of Health issued formal guidelines, restricting use of recornbinant DNA techniques by drafting an elaborrate set of rules, Watson, along with many of his colleagues, soan came to feet that encouraging the public debate had been a mistake, "We were teenage jackasses,'%e said of the scientists (including himself) who had called for the moratorium. Me meant that by crying wolf, they had created undue public concern over entirely hypothetical dangers. Watson argued that instituting rthtes restricting mperiments to certain so-called safe areas gave a quite misleading impression that d l other experiments were unsafe. The issue became deeply politicized, and Watson (never ane to mince w r d s ) said that the whole episode had given far too much publicity and innuence to ""an odd coalition of spaced-out environmental kooks and leftists who see genetics as a tssl for .further enslaving the masses'"Watsan and Tooze 1982,3463). There ensued an effective lobbying campaigrl to relax the restrictietns an recornbinant DNA research, which was stlpp~rtedby scientists who wanted to go ahead with research and by would-be biotechnalogists who foresaw profirs in applying the new techniques (as we'lf see in llle next section). Warson played a vigorous part in persuading Congress not ta impose fixrther Limitations on research and to relax those already imposed. As experiments and applications have proceeded, the initid fears have not been borne aut, and VVatson's judgment seems t s be vindi-

Sciecsntis;cfand Public icP8liey 1 203

cated. Nothing terrible has happened-yet. Both the doomsday threats of unleashing epidemics and the promise of wonder cures for cancer and disease turned out to be greatly exaggerated.,The worries expressed about genetic engineering in the 1990s tend to be more about ethical, legat, and commercial aspects of generic engineering than about the safety of laboratory experiments. However, as biotechnology is scaled up to industrial levels and operated by less c a ~ f uhands l than those of research scientists, the potential for biohazards will certainly need watching. The deeper a scientific theory gets into nature, the more power it offers to human intervention, and the more possibility there is of something goirrg wrong on a big scale. The dismptiw effects of irrtroducirlg foreign [not genetically engineered) species into different ecosystems remind us how easily environmental balances can be upset. The opposition of campaigners such as Rifkin, crude as they sometimes arc (see 2.21, may work as a safety mechanism,

Cohen'sPart in Lobbying Congress Stanley Cohen was one of the first molecular biologists to demonstrate the feasibili~of genetic engineering. He was also one of the earliest to realize its financial possibitities and apply for a patent. That there were tempting cammercial prospects was already obvious. Xf human genes could be spliced into bacterial DNA, then perhaps the altered 'bacteria could be used as tiny biological facmries-to make medically useful substances, .for example. Maybe the genes of plants or farm animals could be repmgrammed to increase productivity It seems that Cahen was at first reluctant to apply Eor a patent and thus be open to charges of trying to make money from his scientific discoveries, especially at a time when the controversy over the safety of genetic engineering was reaching its height. But he was persuaded by the people at Stanford m i v e r s i ~Office ' ~ aETechnalom Licensing that if his gene-splicing process were not patented, the new techniques would more likely than not become trade secrets, hidden within private companies rather than open to public use through patents. Accsrdingly, the application was filed just before the deadline of a year that U.S. patent law allows after first public disclosure. The proposed patent was nol: to benefit Cahen and Boyer as indiGduals but the two universities of Stanford and California, Nevertheless, when this move became public knowledge in 1976, consternation arose that these ttivo irrstitutions were proposing to make a profit from a discovery wbase basis had been laid by so many other people" work and fixnded largely by taxpayers' money. Lawsuits were lhreatened by those who had collaborated with Cohen and Boyer but were not included in the patent application, The patent

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was, however, issued in 1980 [under the Frankensteinian title ""Pocess for Producing Biologically Functisnal Molecular Chimeras"-a chimera is a mythical monster with a Lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail), ft aXtows academic scientists to use the gene-splicing techniques willrout charge. And for commercial applications, the universities" Lawyers cunningly set the License fees at such a Level that it was mare attractive for potential users to pay up than ta try to evade the patent; as a result, the income from it has been substantial, at least by university standards, These controversies over the safety risks and the commerciaXization of recobinant DNA techniques have been ex~ensivefydocumented, and we already have reviewed them. The episode we shall now consider occurred in 1977, when would-be genetic engineers Like Cahen heitped persuade the U.S. Congress to water down safety restrictions on their work. This is an instructive example of scientific expertise being used exert political influence, in this case to hrfher the interests af molecular biologists. (The courts face a graLving probfern of so-called junk science, where each side in a case calls in its purpoaed expegs and no eEfttctive procedures exist for deciding the reliabitity of supposedly expert testimony) As we have seen, the moratorium on recombinant DNA experiments aroused public fears that many scierltists dismissed as irrational. A second consequence was that proposed U,S. legislation inconvenienced the research that academic scientists wanted to do, white the safety of irrdustrial processes usizlg recornbinant DNA was not considered. But rather than addressing these wider problems, many of the molecular biologists set out to persuade U.S. Legislators that the proposed rules were unduly restrictive of scientific research. They had many motives-intelXectual curiosity; certainly; but also an interest in furthering their scientific careers. And as we have noticed, financial interests were nett a million miles away, (Like many others, Cohen had became associated with commerce by joining in 1975 the scientific advisory boarcl of Getus Corporaion, n w merged into Cfiiron,) NW we come to the episode we promised to highlight. In 1977, draft bills were put before Congress proposing various degrees of regulation for experiments on DNA. In an attempt to persuade senators and representatives to adopt the least restriaive Legislation, some n w research findings were presented shoLving that the dangers of recambinant DNA had been much exaggeraed. One of the papers most useful far this purpose was written by Colren and his coworker S. Chang, In it, t h q reported the spontaneous recambinatisn, inside a li~rxgbacterial cell, af pieces of DNA from different species that had been experimentally inserted irlto the cell. But since the paper itself was as unintelligible to lay readers as most madern scientific publications are, it had to be summa-

Sciecsntis;cfand Public icP8liey I 205

rized in ordinargi language, and this is where the scientistskowpl interests appear to have influenced the result. Members of Congress and the press were given to understand that recombination of DNA can happen quite commonly in nature, that it must have been going on for ages, and that it therehre can hardly be dangerous. The Washin.g&i?Post (September 28, 19"T7")quoted Cahen as saying that "Mother Nature has been capable all along of doing in cells what scientists can now do," and senators were heard repeating this line, But the Cohen-Chang experiment had not proved that DNA recombines randomly in nature all the time; it had only shown that if bits of DNA were artificially introduced into a cell, they might combine there. Mu direct evidence existed that fragments of DNA could get through cell walls in nature. Hovuever, even those like Ren6 Dubss, who said that he initially had ""at quasi-religious h o s t i l i ~to experiments combining genes f r m different organisms, because 1 felt that this was contrary to the ways of nature," came to realize that ""gnetic exchange occurs frequently in natural conditions" and that it is likely that bacteria "can incorporate DN;4 fragments from the animals and plants in which they reside" ((1974,238)' Cohetl was accused by some of misrepresenting the situation to serrre his interests. Dr. Roy Curtiss 111, professor of microbiobow at the University of Alabama (who vvas among the most cautious of the scientists at the beginning of the safety debate, though he has later revised his views), went sa far as ta describe Cohen's part in this affair as "one of the most imperious, despicable, pieces of political science that 1 know of"" (quoted in. Lear 19"T8,2423*Whatever the misinrl'ormallon was, the general concern raised by this incident is that the molecular biologists interpreted scierlrific results in such a way as to innuence politicians to do what the former wanted, namely; to pursue their research without legal remiaions. The scientists were no longer disirltere~edseekers after tmth; they had become players irr the games of pwer, in science, politics and business. Cavalieri (1981) labeled the whole episode ""Fram Truth to Power."

Political, Legal, and Ethical Entanglements of Bioscience A patent suit by the Unitremity of California [UC) against pharmaceutical

coworation Eti LiIly and Company illustrates some of the problems affecting bioscientific research today when the applications become big business, The suit charged that LiXly had rehsed .to hoxlor UC's patents on xrledrods for making h~txxtaxrinsdin. Tens of miltions of dollars were at sake, UC: resea~hershad succeeded for the first tinle in sequerlBng the entire insulin gene sf the rat, which made it relatively easy to sequence

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the human insulin gene, Plt the time in 1977, they had to study rat instead of human DNA because federal widelines prohibited using human DNA, By 59"1, the human gene was cloned and inserted into bacteria, which then would produce insulin, 1111987,ten years after applying for a patent, UC received commercial rights for insulin production. But UC lost their suit against Lilly, which argued that UC scientists had misrepresented the or&ins of their insrtlin data to the U.S. Patent Office and had violated the National Institutes of Health (NIH) guidelines for gene cloning. Scientists at U 6 San Francisco had used some of the methods developed by a competitor, Harvar-dk salter Gilbert, and Lilly had stared its ttxpertise in irlslxlin chemistry with the UC team. Lilly had begun marketing synthetic human insulin irr 1982.Judge Dillirz (in a hhtmetawnf, ruled that UC's rat gene patent trial in Indianapalis, ZLillyFs was invalid becatxse the gene's sequence differed from the human gene that Lilly had used. In addition, the judge condemned UC researchers far using a forbidden vector plasmid that had not been approved as safe by NIH, accepting Gilbert's expert p mess testimony to this effect. The latter charge was later reversed on appeal, but &en the case was closed in 199L instead of making millions on patent royalties, UC had to pay $12 million in legal costs, hrsorrller application of biutechnolagy that has entangled scientists in political, legal, and ethical issues is the development of genetically modified (GM) crops. For example, genes have been inserted into corn to produce toxirrs against pests, which has raised concerns that the foreign genes might cause health problems, such as allergies, and have adtrerse effects on the enGronment. Crops modified to pmduce toxins might kill beneficial insects. Defenders point the prospective benefits of genHic engineering and argue that no dangers to health have been scientifically demonstrated. Genes cloned from daEodils and bacteria have been inserted into rice to make a hybrid that is more nutritious, The genes produce beta carotene, which could help relielre a deficiency of tarni in A that afkcts millions of children in developing nations, and they enrich the available iron by coding Eor an enzyme that breaks down phvate, which normally inhibits the absorption of iron from rice in the diet, Proponents fear that production of CM rice might be delayed by the kind of worries that has prompted European countries to consider bannirlg irnportation of GM crops, Greenpeace has urged consumers to boycorr aU "'tmnkenstein food" that is produced lxsirrg biotechnologq: and activists in England have destroyed field trials al"GM crops. Research scientist Arpad Pusztai in Scotland stirred up much controversy in Britain when he arg~xedthat potatoes engineered to contain a natural insecticide normally b u n d in

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snowdrops were unhealthy because they suppressed the immune systerns of rats. Reviewms from the R o y d Socieq rejected his ctairns as mbbish, and he was dismissed from the Rowett Institute for Agriculture in Aberdeen. His case was taken up in an editorial in The Lancet (May 19991, which questivned the maives of the large and power(zu1companies promoting GM crops, such as Morzsanto Corporation, suggesting they are motivated more by profits than altruism. The editorial also criticized the U.S. Food and Drug Administration for not being suficiently concerned with testing the safety of GM food.,Getting the balance right in these cases is terribly difficult. Some public alarms about safety may be exaggerated, but there is dways a darlger that concerns Eor profit and convenience in the short: term will overcame worries about passible undesirable side egects in the longer term,

The Human Genome Projecl A vast new phase in the story of molecular biology has opened with the Human Genome Project (E-IGP), The plan for mapping the structure of the approximately 80,000 human genes was first proposed as a national project in 1985. In 1990, the HCP began as an international project cam-

milled to identiQing all rhree bitliorl base pairs that make up human DNA, which includes the 95 percent ""junk DNA(9in addition to the operational genes, Writing the xatlcleaides using the A, G, 6, T alphabet of DNA, the complete sequence of the human genome w u l d fill one hundred large telephone baoks. Completing this rather large undertaking by the target date of 2005 will require analysis of same fi&eeng i g a b ~ e of s data generated each day by an international group of research teams. The HGP is unusual in that it includes the development of the technalo m needed ta achieve the aim, Biotechnolo~? using computer innovations, has risen to the task, and the prOject may actudly be completed several years earfly Surprisingly, this ambitiolxs project was first propased by a group of physicias at the nuclear weapons lab at Los Marnos, who prestrmabty were concerned abaut the hture of their jobs and propased switching from studying mdiation damage to doing something more positive. fn 1985, Sirrsheirner, who had become chancellor of the Universiv of California at Santa Cruz, was looking .for some large project to help put his university on the scientific map. He must have overcome his earlier trepidation~about genetic engineering, for he invited some of the wortdPs leading experts in maXecular genetics to discuss the idea of building a new insl-jrute for mapping and sequencirlg the approximately three billion ""ftters" of rtre hurnan genetic code. Many of the scientists thought

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Scientists and Public P~kicd,

this impmeticable, but (as we have seen in 8.2) Walter Gilbert was sufficienrty impressed by the project to propose undertakirrg it with his private Gensrne Carparation. He enGsioned the project as "a monumental step in the study of human biolom-the ultimate answer to the commandment "know thyself': . . . IW]e will be creating a new biolog for the next century . . , Tt will be immensely powerl"ul'7McKie J9-138,110). Congress began to take an intewst in the Human Genome Project, bath as a grand scientific-medieat initiative that could be described as ""reading the Book sf Human Life" and as samething that could help maintain the h e r i c a n lead in biotechnolow for years to come. In 1988, Congress allocated $3 billion to be disbursed over a period sf fifteen years to complete the project. James Watson found himself at the very center sf the issue, and, once again, by accepting the position af director of the Office of Iiuman Cenome Activities thin the U.S. National Institutes sf E-Iedth,he denlonstrated his commitment to scientific research, apparently unfettered by social worries. He campared the HCP to the mission in 1961of sending a man to the moon. "We used to think our future vvas in the stars. Now we b o w it's in our genes." Watsonk resignation as head af the project amid altegatisns of conflicts sf interest involvirlg shares in biotechnology compmies provides Rtrther e\iiderrce of just how ethically and politically fmugllt the HGP has become. Questions haw been raised abaut whether the HGP represents the wisest use of scientific funds at this time, DaGd Baltimore, for example, protested that the msney could be better spent on smaller scale medical research projects. Despite the great promise sf gene therapies for cambating a host of diseases, controversy continues about the possible uses of the knowledge of humm genetics. A major concern is the use of genetic screening, which might discriminate against thase carrying genes that could express undesired traits. Sinsheimer had already expressed trepidation about the rapidity of scientit'ic advance: "How far wiH we want to develop genetic engineering? Do we want to assume the basic responsibility for fife on this planet-to develop new living forms for our own purpose? Shall we take into our awn hands sur own future evoluti0n?'"C19"1~ 151). Knowledge gained from the Human Genome Project promises (or threatens) to give us the power to tinker with the basis sf human nature itself, Attitudes toward such knowjedge exhibit strong ambivalence; s n one side, the consewalive fear of urlkxrowrl dangers carulsels resmint, but curiosity, the drive Cor adventure, and the scientific and technotogical urge to try d.lpossibilities bid some people to press on*lr is difficult for a scientist to conceive that certain matters are best left unknom, at least for a time.

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Watson, as one might expect, is enthusiastic, remarking in his contribution to h=evIes and Hood's The Code of Codes (H921 that "1 don't want to miss out s n learning haw life warks" "65). Intem.ewed on the British television science program Hol-inon,Watson said (witb the 'geloquence" that the medium tends to induce): "It's too interestirzg,To get the anstiver: It's like arguing for matherhaad. I mean, you want to know it, Because it-the DNA-is, you know, the program for human existence, So, really to understand ourselves, we're going to realty have to understand our DNA," Along similar tines, The Code of C ~ d e also s contains an article by Giilbert entitled X Vision of the Holy Gmil." AXthouxgh the phrase "of the Holy Grail" was inserted by the editors (but nut, it must be admiaed, rejected by Gilbert-see Mueler-HiH 1993, $OGi), some find such hyperbolic claims to be rather disturbing. In what sense can learning more about the molecular processes of genetics help us really understand ourselves, not to mention the meanings and values in human existence? Critics sf the project argue that even if full sequeneing of the human genome is achieved-at considerable cost-the real work lies in the interpretation, The developntent from DNA in the germ cells to the whole organism is not as simple as following a blueprint. The reIatian between the genes and the characteristics they ""codefor" is complex, generally irlvvlvirlg in&ractions among a number of diEerent genes and environmental factors, Besides technical difficulties in achieving the promised therapeutic results, a number of ethical issues have been raised. Some obsenrers are worried that research and applications will be overinfluenced by commercial interests. As we have seen, the issue of conflict of interest was a factor in VVatson's resignation in 1992 as head of the NZM Office of Human Genome Actieties. Others are deeply disturbed by the possibilities of human beings acq~xiringcontrol over their own genetics (see our mention of Rikin's views in 2.2). Hans Jonas viewed the project as a threat to "the integrity of the human image." Fearing entry into unknown territory with unpredictable consequences, he pleaded that scientists resis tbe ""Pomerl.lean urge to open hndora's box" (1985,337). In a reGew of nine works s n the Human Genome Project, Harvard population biologist Richard Lewontirl expressed deep skepticism about how the project will be used. He sees the "ideology of biolsgicril determinism" hrking in the kind sf enthusiasm far the project expressed by Watsan and Gilbert (19931,"12). The project is now beirlg sold to the public by the promise of a revolution in medicine, where knowledge of the structure and function sf genes wouxld lead to the control of genelic diseases and g-eneric predisposirions to cancer and other maladies. Warson and Cook-Deegan

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stated that "the principal goal of the human genome project is to assist biomedical researchers in their assault on disease" (1990,3322). When genetic "engineering" is construed as "gene therapy," it sounds much less threatening-as suggested by H. Vasken Aposhian (1970,106). Consideration of just one case is impressive. A single, recently located gene is said to cause breast cancer in 85 percent of women having it. Because 10 percent of all women are estimated to carry the gene, about half a million women in the United States alone could possibly benefit from an early warning. Gene therapy has already been attempted. In 1990, a four-year-old child suffering from a rare hereditary blood disease was provided with an enzyme missing from his immune system by injecting genetic material by means of a virus vector. But laymen (and -women) are understandably confused when scientists disagree with each other about the wisdom of pursuing the Human Genome Project. The public's ideas of the benefits and dangers is often based on grossly inadequate conceptions of the ways that genetics works. In a 1986 Hams poll, almost two-thirds of the U.S. population surveyed confessed that they knew very little or nothing about biotechnology. Nevertheless, 44 percent approved the project of altering the genetics of children in the future to make them more intelligent or better at sports. For all its scientific sophistication and promised benefits, the Human Genome Project seems to be making some already difficult social and medical issues even more complicated. The HGP has recently faced more competition from private sources. Biochemist J. Craig Venter, formerly employed by the NIH, announced in 1995 that he was forming an Institute for Genomic Research to sequence the human genome ahead of the HGF? His challenge has not been taken lightly since he was the first to publish the entire sequence of a bacterium (Haemophilus influenzae, which causes meningitis), and he followed with the sequencing the genome of several more bacteria. He used a new technique of "whole-genome shotgun cloning," which skips the direct mapping of the genome, instead breaking it up into millions of overlapping random fragments. After determining the sequence of the fragments, computers are used to piece together the data to recreate the entire sequence of the genome. Some members of Congress wondered why the HGP should be funded with public money if the job could be done more quickly with private capital. Supporters of the HGE however, are skeptical that Venter can produce a sequencing of the whole genome as accurately as that required by the HGF? He hopes to make a profit by selling access to his database, which, unlike in the HGF! would include information on variations between individuals, allowing physicians to tailor treatments to patients' needs. Like Walter Gilbert, Venter argues that patenting

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genes-but not the human genome itself-doesn't thll-eaten scientific progress; it only guarmtees that data is wailable publicly

10.3 Ecology and Crusading Scientists Ecology is the study of interrelations between organisms and their errvironments. The "new ecology" bystems ecology) emphasizes functional relarions among the basic units of an ecosysrem, which consists of a large number of i~xterdependentpoputations of organisms living together in. an environment, This branch af science has only recently become prominent, though it has roots in the work of Darwin. lt examines how the organisms in an environment interact to make up a large and complex whole, as apposed to physiology and motecular biolog, which study the subpaE-ts and processes within individual organisms. In ecoIogicai studies, it is often hard to draw a clear line between objective, disinterested descriptions of a species or an ecosystem and expressions of concern for its preservation and functioning, We all have ideas about what makes a human individual (or society) stable and healthy; and it is well-nigh impossible to keep such value judgments out of biology when we study the functioning of plants and animals. Ecalogists and ethologists have tpically displapd a tendency to campaign for the c~nservaionOf their subject mater: ecosystems and their constituent species. The concern may be simply to preserve the environment to maintain its economic value .for .Future generations. Many environmentalists today, howevex; promote the idea of ""deep ecology": that natural syaems should be regarded not just as resources for human use but as haTling intrinsic value, independent of their relation to us, For example, British telerrision ecologist Uavid Bellamy (formerly a lecturer in butany at Durham University, until the media discc-tveredhis popularizing talents) was to be .found risking arrest for obstructing the construction of a darn that threatened a unique ecosystem in Tasmania, and American ethologist Dian Fossey became so protective of the mountain gorillas whose behavior she was studying in their natural habitat in Africa that she alienated the Xocaf,populaion and was murdered. Prokssional ecalogists and ethologists are not the only scientists to show concern for the environment and to get involved in public campaigning, We have seen in 9.2 h w Russian physicist Andrei Sakllarov, worried about the radioactiTlity produced by H-bomb testing in the atmosphere, bravely began to press his political masters to desist from it, which Zed him into vvider criticisms of the socioeconomic system of the

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USSR, We shall now look at some examples of such environmental crusading by scientists in the West.

Carson: The Web of Life Mare than anyone else, Raichel Carson (19QL1964)can be described as the mother of the environmental movement that began in the 1960s. Her book Silent S p r l ' e (1962) awakened public concern about the hmards af the indiscriminate use of pesticides and thereby aroused general interest in enGronmental issues, Carson received a mater's degree irr marine biology from Johns Hopkins Urliversiw in 1932 with a thesis on the embryolog of the kidney in catfish, She wanted to do scientific research, but as a woman she faced the usual difficulties of the time in getting a decent position in science, whether at a university, in private industry, or with the government, She Aid manage to get a pasitisn with the U.S. Bureau af Fisheries (later the Fish and Wildlife Sewice), and her talent as a writer led to her becoming the bureau's editor-in-chief of inhrmation services. She began writing an the side, partly to help suppart herself and her mother. Carsan became something of a literaw celebrity when her book The Sea Around Us-wilh its beautilial descriptions of the ocean's ecosystems-was serialized in The New Yorker in 1951. This was followed in 1955 by me Edge @the Sea, which made vivid the infiicaite irzrerconnections that support the bdance of nature. Carson's writings are excellent examples of combining the best sf the literary and scientific cultures. Her passionate protest against the uxlconstmined, desmctive use of pesticides in Silent S p P i w serialized in The New Vorker in 1962, raised a storm sf controversy, Carson was moved to write the baak by reports af the devastating effect of DDT on bird populations. DDT had been used effectively in World \NBr 11 to eradicate the mosquitoes that caused malaria and in agriculture to control a variety of insect pests. There was hope that DDT would be the miracle chemical that w u l d rid the world of harmbl insects, The U.S. Department of Agricul~rcentlrusiaslically promoted its use, along with various ather poisons that were by-products of wartime research on chemical weapons, Only a few observers saw danger in the unrestrained use of such ctremicals, fn 1945, Carson's suggestion to Reader's Digest of an article s n the effects af DDT s n the environment was rejected. She purstxed her inquiry; however, spending four years galhering evidence of the damage that pesticides caused to Her theme was the conviction that ""inature the natural en~ronment* nothing e x i m alone" "(earson 1962, 51). Her strong rhetoric against the irrdiscriminate use of pesticides is ilIustrated by her comment on an irrcident af spraying beetles in IXlinisis that resulted in the poisoning af a

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number of mammals and birds; such cases "raise a question that is not only scientific but moral. The question is whedrer any civilization can wage relentless war on life without destroying itself, and without losing the right ta be called ciGlizedn"19. She depicted the uncontrolled use of pesticides as wa1-fare against nature, rejecting the traditiorlal notion h a t nature exists snEy for the csnvenience af humans, The agrculttxral chemical irldttstry reaced vehemently ta what it perceived as a rhreat to its existence. Carson was accused of being nolling more than a hysterical woman, a sentimental nature lover without professional credentials who was trpng to week the agricultural economy* On CBS repares in 1963, spokesmen for the industries that manufactured pesticides condemned Sl'hnt S p r i ~ gas beirlg guily of "gross distortions sf the actual facts, completely unsupported by scientific experimental evidence and general practicd experience in the field" WcCay 1993, 81). But Carson's specific arguments were never refuted, e w n if her rhetoric might be criticized as exaggerating same af the possible consequences of the indiscriminate use of pesticides, She never opposed all uses of them but vvas artacking Ibe lack of sensitivity to their complex and sometimes very destructive effects s n ecosystems. k ~ b l i cpressure motivated by Silent Sprivzg led in 1963 ta a repart on pesticides by President Kermecty's Science Acivisory Committee, which supported most of her arguments. Carson's beautifinl and persuasive writing amused public interest in enrj.ironmentaf concerns that previousiy were largely confi~~ed to a relatively small number of conservationists. Her sounding the alarm helped bring about legislation to protect the enGronment, in particular the establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA),

Environmental Crusading by Commoner and Ehrlich Efarry Commoner (1917- -) and Paul Ehrlich (1932- ) are ttivo American biologists who have devoted much of their prokssionirt work to dnwing public attention to the problems of pollution and overpopulation. Commoner was one of the first sciertrists ta become a pttblic c m p a i p e r not just for any particular ecosystenel but Eor the ecosphere as a whole (though he caireliilty documented particular cases such as the death af Lake Erie), He was trained as a biochemist and started his scientific career it1 an oflhodox manner, doing research on the chemicd and physical basis of processes characteristic sf functional living cells and on the biosptf~esisof tabaeco mosaic virus, But when he became director of the Center for the Biology of Natural Systems at Washington University Sr. Louis, he used his position as a platform .for what might be described

2 14 I Scientists and Public P~kicd,

as a crusade to change the throrld-or at least to alert evex"yonetsattention to the need to change worldwide social and economic practice, Commoner argued that the scientist as ""custodian sf the knowledge eveE-yoneneeds to exercise his a m conscience" has the responsibility to '"et the information to the public" (1971b, 181j. In a series of books written for the general public, including Sdence and Survival ( X 9661 and The Closing Circle: Nature, Man and C7Belznology (1971a),he documented the increasirrg threat to human weU-being and suMval caused by our systematic misuse sfthe ecosphere, He sees paXlution of the environment and the overpopulation problem in the Third Wrld as twin sylrlptoms of a woddwide system of economic exploitation. There seems to be a (perhaps suspiciously) smooth twnsition here from scientific analysis of what is actually happening in the worldwide ecospem ta a radical politicaecorlornic diagrlosis of what needs to be changed. Qmmoner argued that the "present course of human civilization is suicidal" Q(JS"i"a,2951, and he could see snXy two options for us: (1)"rational social organization of use and dis~ibutionof the eartIrt's resources" "(requiring central government control) or (2) ""a new barbarism" "98). His concern is to alert everyone to the problem rather than to recruit his readers into any particular political par@. But naturally enough, he has been involwd in social, legal, and polfticaf action. He .founded the St. Louis Committee for Atomic Information, which tried ta ensure that the public's voice was heard in inquiries into the sitirrg of nuclear power stations, Later this group became the Committee for EnviranmentaE Information, which published the magazine Ent~ironmeat and helped show that nerve gas that the II.S, Army proposed to dump intu the Atlantic could be safely de~oxifiedinstead. Commoner has atso sewed as chairman of the board sf directors of the Scientists' Institute for Pt~blicInformation and was involved in the successful legal action in 1971 to compel the U.S. Atomic Energ Commission ta disclose information abaut the environmental efkcts sf its proposed fast breeder reactors, The line of argument that Commoner has followed is indicated by the metaphor sf ""re closing circle,"We have, he contended, "broken sut of the circle of life" " 2 ) . He enunciated "laws of ecology" in an effort shik our attitude tolivard nature ham the Efaconian view in which it is something to be conquered and mastered by humans for sur awn uses, to a respea for. n m r e , with human beings holding "stewardship'hfihe earth. Commoner's first law of e c d o a , '"Everphing is connected with everfllnixlg else," expresses his holistic view of nature (33). The suggestion is that if we disturb natural systems, there is a danger that they will collapse. Aldo Leapold (1887-1948), an early leader irr h e r i c a n conservation, expressed an even more far-reaching, holistic view of values in

Sciecsn tis& and Public icP8liey I 2 15

nature in a famous chapter entitled ""TheLand Ethic" in his baok A Sand C"orrntyAfmannl::'X thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability; and beauty of the biotic community It is wrong when it tends otherwise" 949,262). Public environmental ctebaes are generalty not conducted in scientific discourse. The appeal is rather to the feelings by means of symbols that have emotional appeal. We seem to need such s p b o l s t s motivate practical action. For example, in the highly publicized debate over whether the possible extinction of the spotted awl in the U.S. Northwest would be wome than the !ass of jobs if logging its habitat were curtailed, the owl is seen by those wishirrg to preserve. the habitat: as a symbot of general enviranmental degradation, the destruction of wildlife habitats, and decreasing biodiversity. The holistic vision held by marry envirorlmexrralists sometimes irtcllnes them to take an all-or-nolling view of policies. For emmple, in arguing far a ban an. all logging in federally owned virgin forests in the United States, along with banning all use of het-bicides, pesticides, and fertilizers, Tim Hermach, head of the Native Forest Council, used this analogy: "You can? save a cancer patient's life by incrementally removing the malignant cancers from his body You either go in and take out 100 percent of the malignancies or the patient diesr"Letto 1992, 26). A general problem in informing the public about en~ronmentalproblems is striking a balance b e ~ e e neffectively aroutsing interest-which may irlvolve dramatizing the dangers by sketching scary scenarios of consequences if we fail to take action-and accuracy in conveying the best knotvledge, indicating the passible dangers and outtlining policies with some indication of relative risks, costs, and benefits. If the only motivation fox: presem'ng the eneronment is an appeal to self-interest, the problem of the ""lagedy of the commons" mardin 1968) may arise. If access to a publicty w n e d resource-like a common pasture-is unrestricted, people may be tempted to overuse it, thus destmyirlg the resource [as a pasture may be mined by avergrazing). Paradoxically, the wry artempt by individuals to m d m i z e their benefit [as "rational" egoists) leads to a loss to everyone. Hardin saw this as a pervasive problem wherever costs are commonized but benefits are privatized. For example, general polhltion of the environment may result when "the rational man finds that his share of the cost of the wastes he discharges into the commons is less than the cast ofpuribxlg his wastes before releasing titern" (1968, 1245). Hardin's solution is "mutual coercion mutually agreed upan,'bsay; by imposing taxes on pa'llution. that would m o t i m lirrlirixlg its prodttction, h u l Etrrlich, professor of biology at Stanford University, made a scientific reputation by his work on butterflies, in which. he examined their

2 16 1 Scientists and PubEic P~kicd,

moryhology and classification as well as their reproductive biology and its relationship to larval hoQlants, But he rapidly extended such academic study of population biology to concern about our future s n this planet and became a public crusader like Commonerr Ehrlieh made a specially of documenting the human population problem in books such as The Population Bomb (1968) and The Population Explosion (1990),willen jointly with his wife Anne. He founded an action group , in his heyday he was giving as marry called Zero Population G r o ~ hand as a hundred public lectures a year and many mare radio and tele~sion broadcasts. We had a tendency to overstate his case deliberately by painting doomsday scenarios of famine and war to gain attention and arouse concern. Same of his forecasts have been far off the mark, having more the character sl"prophecies than scientifically based predictions. The danger of such crying wolf, of course, is thal the crier loses credibility and the irnpol-tance of" his message may be missed, Ehrlicfi saw the so-called green revolution as a paradigmatic case sf a "technological fix'Ym social problems thal ultimately makes things worse. Geneticists succeeded in breeding new strains of the major food grains, wheat and rice, which promised to help solve the problem sf feeding the world's g r o ~ n popularion. g Cultivation of these new grains was successful in greatly increasing their yield in Third World cowltries. But many problems arose .from unintended consequences, illustrating the maxim that you "'can? do just one thing," These more efficient grains required more chenlical fertilizer, which is not only more errerw intensive but can also result in pollution problems, with runoff into rivers and lakes affecting their biota. In the process of selecting for efficient producrion, genetic diwersiq was decreased, with the consequence that the new strains tended to be less resistant to insects and disease. So their use resttlts in greater use of chemical peaicides with potential dangers to humans and the ecosystem. Economically, the green revolution tended to serrre the interests sf agribusiness, leading to the formation af large estaes that made the rich richer and the poor poorer; Those who w n e d ail this land found that it was more profitable to raise cash crops g .food for the nafar export than for domestic consumption, l e a ~ n less tive popularion, Finally pop~dationshave continued to increase, creating the need for yet more efficient food productiorz, The results were mixed: Faad production was increased but not Mrithout unintended side effects, Should scientists themselves pay more attenrian to solving social problems? The popular conception. sf scientists as wizards with magic formulas might suggst thal we sirrlpiy let them study our problems and come up with solutions. To plan consciousty, we need knowledge. But

Sciecsntis;cfand Public icP8liey 1 21'7

complex systems, from individual organisms to ecosystems, pose great, perhaps insuperable, difficulties for accurate scientific analysis and prediction, The record of scientists (and nonscientists) in predicting the consequences of new technologies is not very encouraging, In his 1955 presidentid address to the American Association for the Advancement af Science, Warren Waver cited same of the reasons why living nature does not yield to the kind of analysis that has been so impressive in the pbsical sciences: "PWl)lsicdnature . . . seems on the whole 'loosely coupled,' that is, simple physical systems can be analyzed into parts, focusing on two or three isolated variables at a time, and we often can use linear approxinlatiorls to get useful information," Organisms, by contrast, are highly complex coupled systems, so "it flakes many variables describe a man or a .virusf'(1955,1258). Many scientias have gone on ecological campaigns since the pioneering days of Commoner and Ehrtich. The worst scenarios have rzot yet materialized, but the problems of paljution and population are abviousity very far from solved. Some changes in public awareness, legislation, and irrdustrial practice have been achieved [not counting merety cosmetic changes like eatling an arm af government ""theDepartment of the EnGronment," or introducing "peen" "ernes in advertisements on TV). Presumably, some credit for this must go to these initial crusading ecologists-though it is very hard to be sure abaut causal eonnectisns b e ~ e e social n phenomena, Taward the end of his incisi\ie book ScientificK~owIedgerand Its Social Problems (19"i"), ferry Ravetz hailed Commoner's work as a model af what he calls "critical science" as opposed to "inndstrialized science," the now more typical h r m of scientific research fixnded and direaed by the great powers of state or industq (see 1.4). The ""critical" ~ i e n t i s tare s those who are not contmlXed by such powerful paymasters. They have the financial and potizicd independence to be able to document irr a scientificaify professional manner various facts (for example abaut pollution or industrial or military safety hazards) that may be appropriate matwrs for public concem but that may be very inconvenient for the powers that be to acknowledge or have publicized. And since there is little point in doing this work unless the results are made public, critical science wilE of course involve an element of politics, The hope is that action will fallow naturally ham analysis. A recent example is Jeremy Leggetl, m i l e a geologist at London UniversiVt he devoted some of his time to exposing the fallacies in official arguments that underground nuclear tests were not reliably detectable (at the time, the Ministry of Defence was trHng to justiQ the British government's opposition to the Comprehensive Test Bar1 Treaty). Leggett

2 18 I Scientists and Public P~kicd,

has since left academic employment to become chief scientist of the campaigning organization Frierlds sf the Earth. The era sf professional critical science has arrived.

Suggestions for Further Reading Bfzmtzberg, A., and G, Owens. E976, Enerw and Gon$icf: The 1;Veand Emw ofEd-

ward TeEteu; Easjea, B, 1983, Faithering the U~xtCtinkable:N a s c u l i ~ iScienfis& ~, and the Nuclea-r Arms Race, Jun&, R. 1958, Brighter Than a Thousand Suns: A Personal H i s m y o f t h e Ammk Scientists. Miehelmsre, P; 1969. The Swgt Years: The Robert Oppenheimer Stove Pais, A, E 99 E, NieE BohrS Ernes i n Physics, Philosopfy and F"o Et"@.

Cavalieri, L. E 2981. The Double-Edged HeEiix (especidly ch. 7 ) . Kwles, D, J., and L, Hood, eds, 1992. The Code ofeodes: Science and Social Issues i n the Human Geno~neProject; Krimsky S, 1982. Genetl'c Alchemy: The Social History of the Recornbinant DNA Controversy; Lear, T. 1978, Recombinant DNA, The U7.ttold Smry: Lowrmce, W, W. 19136. Modern Science and Hunaan Values (ch. 5). Lyon, T., and F": Gomer. 1996. Altered Fates: Gene?Therapy and the Retooling of HUm a n LVi, McKie, 8, 1988, The Geneticligsclw: 7Re Stay qf the New Genetics, Watson, j. D, and J. Tooze. 1981, Tlze DNA Stay: A Documentary History of Gene Cloning. Yoxen, E. 1983. The Gene Bzssiness,

Carson, R. 1962. Silent Spn"ng. Commoner, B, E966, Sdence and Survival.

. 19"1 The Closing Circle:Nature, iVIajkz and Technology Dixon, B. 1973, W k a t Is Science For? Ekrlich, R 1968. Tke B p u k a t b n Bamh Ehrlich, E, and A. Ehrlich. 1990. The PspuEation Explosion, McCay, M . A. 2993, Rachel Carsan. Merchant, C. 1992. Radical Ec0Eog-y: The Sear-chfor a Livable M/"srld, Ravetz, J. 197 1. Scief~tific Knoculedge and I& Social Problems. Tobias, M,, ed. 1985. D e w Ecology

1 1.1 Emergence of the Behadoral Sciences The scientific revolution of the seventeenth century awakened the vision of a ""seienee of man," widening the application of the new scientific method to human beings, One ofthe first ta propoe a scientific inquiry into human nature was David Hume. Tn 17339, he offered his Treatise on Hu~vzanN ~ t u r eas "an attempt to introduce the experimental method of reasoning irlm moral subjects.'Wume hoped to establish a science that would "not be inferior in eertainty'knd "much superior in utility" than any other. He later argued that just as ""a philosopher [Newton!] . . , determined the laws and forces by which the revolutions of the planets are governed and directed" W too we might discaver "the secret springs and principles by which the human mind is actuated in its operation" (1955, 24) One of these principles that Hume developed was the association. af ideas. Hume's work stimulated much discussisn in philosophy but David Wartley is considered the founder of assoeiationism in psycholog. Z (1"T49),Hartley promoted ai principle In his work Qbsgrvat-ionsO I ~Man of association as the basis of his psy&ofo~.Independently of EIurne, Hartley was inspired by Newtonian mechanisms to conceive of vibrations of tiny particles in the nexllous system that give rise to sensations, He proposed a parallelism of mental ideas and brain processes, decfarirlg that the vibrations in the brain were the "physiological counterpart af ideas" "(~oring 1958, 1961, His principle of association states that repeated occurrences of a senssion together Lvitfl a corresponding idea can give the sensation the "power" to excite the idea in the mind. General ideas, .for example af moral qualities, arise by a compounding sf simple ideas, HartleyS principle of association influenced the philasophical psychology of fererny Dentham and fames and John Smart Mill (father and son), and it was taken over by the psychslow sf conseiousness that developed in the late 1800s in Germany* psycho log^ received new impetus from Darwids iheory of evolution, which suggested a bialogieaf basis of human behaaor. Darwin himself

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applied his theories to human nature in the Descent ofMan (1871) and The Expressio~of tlze Emotions in MGR and Animals (1872). Tfle beginnings of a science of psychology emerged in Germany aut sf biomedical science in the nineteenth century, Theodor Fechner, coming from a background in theology and medicine, tried in his Elements of PsychopIzysr"cs(1860) to formulate an "exact science of the functisnaf relations of dependency betmen body and mind,'YHe pmpased as a psychological law an equation relating material stimuli to mental sensations, It was WlheXm Mrundt 651832-19203, however, who was the first scientist to be caled a psychologist, He founded the first 1aborratal-y for experimental psychology in 1879, dedicated to the experimental treatment of psychologicai pmblems. His work marks the beginning of psycholom as a distinct science, separated from its roots in philosophy and medical physiology, Wundt began as a physiologiisl but then trlrned his attention let conscious thought, using self-observatietn, Like LZiillam James at the same time in the United States, W n d t thus depended s n galhering data from introspec(ion. Psycholou since then has developed radter differenriy from the natural and bioIagicat sciences. It has tended ta .fragment into many schools-ysychoarzaly~.ic~behaviorist, neurophysiologicaf, social, existentialist, cognitive, and so on-which often seem to lack any cammon theory ar paradigm, Perhaps the latest wave af evalutionairy psych~lom will Eead to a unification of the discipline, but it has hardly done so yet. The social sciences continue to pose the questietns: m a t art: the limits af science? Can there be a science sf man? Can science explain and predict human behavior in the way it predicts and explains the behavior of physical system9 Natural science s e e k causal explanaliona But can we adequately understand human thought, feeling, and action in terms of their causal origins?There continues to be resimnce to the very idea of a behavioral science. Social science texts arc: often sensitive to their status as science, whereas a physicist never asks: Is my research really science? Someone might question whether it is good science or interesting science, but not whether it is science at all. Psychologist Edwin Boring, musing on the failure af psychology to live up to the hopes of its founders to discover fixndamental laws about mind and bebavior camparable ta thsse in the natural and biological sciences, concluded that ""tere have been n s great psychologistsFpnone approachixlg a Newton or a Darwin or an Einstein. There have been many distinguished psychologists, of course, but none that quite live up to those names. Freud is generally considered "great,"h t his seientific status is far from agreed upon. There appear to be no universally recognized e v e r t s in psychology that people feel confident in asking haw ta explain, predict, s r control human behaiviar. Ambitious theories

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in psycholow have not been lacking, but none of them has been able to rival the theories of physics in evidential confirmation and pracrical applicability, Some people are concerned rrather that the social and behatn:oral sciences might become too successful in discovering ways to control behaGor, The presumption of such sciences ta authoritative knowledge af humarr beings challenges the authority of religious and cttltural traditians to p r a ~ d eunderstanding of human nature and human behavior. In the psychological explanations of both Freud and Skinner, discussed in the foltswing sections, reason, faith, and spirituality play no fixndamental role in motivating human behavior; This has aroused fears that attempts to study human nature scientiBcally threaten essential humanist and spiritual values that are expressed in art, literature, and ~ l i gion, In response ta such concerns, a movement calling itself ""hmanistic psyc;hology'hrose in the 19GOs, led by Abrahanl Maslow, Car1 Rodgers, and others. As a ""third force" h addition ta Freudian and behaviorist psychology, humanistic psychology proposes to study the whole range of uniquely human experience that incorporates the values af free choice, creati~ty,and self-realization af indirriduals, Same af the debate over the relation of science to such values will be taken UP in the final chapter, ""Sience and Values.'"

Freud:Warxld-Be Scientist of the Ematisns l2

Qne very influentid model sf psychology emerged with the founding af psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), He is a giant figure in ~ e n t i e t hcentury thought. His writings comprise over a miHion words, and there is a vast literamre ciling and discussing his ideas. Freud viewed his work as a scientific theory of the human mind, and he might rank as the most influential scientist of all time-except that many consider him less a scientia than a philosopher or literary humanist. Freud showed an early interest in science, first intending to study chemistry, lllen sbiftirlg to physiology and anatomy He was especially impressed by evvlrxriunary ideas then in vague at the University ofVienna, He was attracted by the challenge that Darwin had posed sf understandixag mm's nature in the light of hrtmans having w o h d from lawer forms of life, Freud's first scie~ificpuMicatian, at age twenv-two, was on the structure of the spinal card of a primitive fish. He showed his capacity for tireless research in a project to find testicles in male eels, Many earlier efforts had faifed, but his persistence was rewarded after four hundred dissections,

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Freud studied medicine in Vienna in the hope of pursuing sciemific research, He worked in a pbsiological labsratory for several years, then in a psychiatric clinic, studying brain anatomy After medical schaol he specialized in rreurology, stttdyirlg causes of brain damag-rs, In 1805, Freud made a decisive turn to psychiatry bile studying in Paris under the French neurologist Jean Charcat, who was treating women with hysteria using hypnotic suggestion. (At the time, women who acted srangeiy outside the social norms, were commonly labeied hysterical.) When he returned to Vienna, Freud started a private practice in ""nervous diseases" and was much, impressed by a case in wtlic'n a Viennese pbsician fosef Breuer claimed to have cured hysterical paralysis, He irrduced the woman [Bertha Pappenheirrt, h o w n as 'Rnna 0,"who went on to become a champion of women's rights) to reenact under hwnosis the traumatic guilt aroused while nursing her dying father-the guilt that had set off the hysteria. The fact that the cure seenled ta be attained by merely talking suggested to Freud that he look to psychological rather than physiological causes, He interpwted this talk as uncovering distressing memories that the woman's mind had actively suppressed, not simply happened to forget. This idea inspired his catharsis therapy; in which the patient's mind is purged of disturbing emotions when memories of traumatic experiences are brought to consciousness. The case was traumatic for Breuer because (as he told Freud later), he recognized but coulddt accegt the sexual origin of her problem, Frtttld later srtbstituted h e association far hypnotism and intruduced the furlher technique of dredging up unconsciaus thoughts by interpreting a patient's dreams. In an early work, "Projed for a Scientific Psychology," not published until after his death, Freud tried to find a pbysialogical basis for psychological processes and thus ta model the mind as a kind of machine. The activity was regula~edby the principle that the mind always acts to minimize ""unpfleasure,'?hat is, to reduce excitation. He stated his intention to 'Ywmzish a natural-scietzrific psycholow?that is, to represent psychical processes as quantitatively determined states of specifiatrle material particles" 0895, 359). Freud abandoned this project to base a psychologicat theory on the plzysiology of the brain when he became convinced that many of the mental disturbances he encountered in his practice did not have an organic cause, Freud applied his psychoanalysis, as he began calling his therapy, to relieve nervous disorders in his patients. He hypothesized that neuroses originate in childhood experiences that have been repressed into the unconsciolits because they involve sexual desires that the person cannot admit to having, He noted that many of his patients repofled traumatic sexual experiences as children, which often involved .family members.

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He began to believe that ses played a central mle in neurosis, At first he accepted patients' accounts of childhood seduction as acmally having occurred, but later he came to believe that they were mostXy fantasized experiences. Freud himself was troubled by molestations [probably imagined) in his own Eamily. Pafily to relieve his own neurotic problems and to better understand psychoanalpic therapy; in J89"Te began two years of self-analysis, Because of the dificulty in applying free assaciation to himself, he turned to analyzing his dreams. Each morning he wrote down his dreams of the night before and then later .free associated with what he had recorded. Freud's first mgor w r k , The 1fzterp;rretrrlionoJ-Dre~ms, appeared in 1900. ln it he revealed what he considered his greatest discwry: Every dream is the expression of unconscious wishes, especiatXy sexual desires, He claimed that we all have in us a lawless ~ l d - b e a snature t which peers out in steep. The Latin motto heding his work translaes lossely as "If l can't bend heaven, 131 raise hell," Dreams p r o ~ d e da royal road to unmasking the unconscious, if one could decode them. It certainly doesn't seem that all or even most dreams are wish hffillments, but Freud argued that they are disguised fulfillments of repressed wishes. It requires a kind of detective work by the psychoanalyst to reveal the hidden meanings. Freud's work was the first systematic attempt at a scientific account of the significance of dreams-earlier: traditions had generally interpreted dreams as visions of the fi~ture,messages from the gads, or unintelligible vagaries of the mirrd. Inspired by Darwin's evolutionary theory, Freud saw the drives of selfpreservation and sexual repmduction as crucial in determining human behavior. Human personalities, he hypothesized, d w l o p in swges, with sexuality expressed from birth, In the oral stage the newborn's gratification is by feeding. The anal stage is shaped by toiler itraining, If there is fixation on the "anal retentive" stage, the individual [as an adrxlr) will, Freud held, tend to be stingy and hssy about order and cleanliness. At a very early age boys de-velop a sexual attraction to their mothers, He called this the Oedipus complex, after the ancient Greek m ~ ofh Oedipus, who unknowingly killed his father and married his mother, A husband" most dangerolxs rivals ntight be his children. Freud's attribution of sexuality to young children as a central faetor of their personalily development was highly original and shocking at the time. A filndarnentat concept in Freutd's theory is the "unconscious" as a resewoir of primitive desires. We are ofierr unaware of the true motives that drive human behavior, Only by the techniques of psychoanalysis, he arwed, can we gain xcess to our hidden motives, by interpreting the repressed desires expressed in dwams, free association, jokes, and verbal mistakes (Freudian slips). Psyehioanalysts have ~ e w e dmany things

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as sexual symbols, For example, cigars have been corrsidered phallic symbols, A student once asked Freud if his cigar smoking had any symbolic significance for him, Puffing reflectively, he responded: ""Smetimes a cigar is just a cigar." Freud conceived of the rnind as a dyrlamic batrleground of conflicting forces, canceptualized in his later theory (1920s) as the id (the "It") and the ego (the "1''). The id represems the primal biological drives, especially sexual impulses-the libido [Latin for ""lust"). The id operates a n the ""peasure principle," "eking gratification. now without cansideraion of consequences. Shce the id lacks m y means-ends logic, to survive we need a conscious ego to mediate between the id and the environment. We develop an ego system that operates on the ""reality principle,'%hich takes cansequences sf actions into account, selecting means to saris@the id's desires, fxl constraining the id's desires, the ego builds defenses repressing consciousness. But the defense mechanisms themselves are unconscious. Since the concealment itself is concealed, it takes the detective work of the psychoartalyst to unmask the conflicts underlying mental disorders. Freud further postulated a superego as a kind sf voice sf moral canscience of do's sand don'ts. The superego internatizes moral standards derived from parental and sacial constraints on a child" behavior, The superego makes one feel guilty when its prohibitions are violated. The goail of his psychoainalytic therapy became to ""restore a harmonious balance between the parts of the mind," Freud's first academic recognition came in 1909 when he was ineted to lecture in the United States at Glark University; F;Jegathered a grolxp of disciples and organized an international ol-ganization of psychoanalysts, Although he practiced psychoanalysis a n patients all his life, he devoted much of his prodigious energy to guiding the psychoanalytic movement and to writing, His views seemed to fir the spirit of the times, and his popularity and influence increased, especially in the m i t e d States, which came to have the greatest number of psychoanalysts. He was man of the year on the cover of Time in 1924. American essayist JasephW a d Krutch wrote in the New York Times in 1926 that Freud was "with the possible exception of Einstein, perhaps the most talked of scientist alive today" (Gay 1988,459).He had hopes of a Nubet Prize in literature. This award never materialized, but he did receive the coveted Goethe prize in 1930. His influence extended to the use of psychiatrists to judge mental competency in courtrooms. Freudian psychoanalysis reached a high point in the 1950s-typified by HoXiyoad films with psychoanalysis as a theme, for example, Witchcock's ""Sellbolxnd," "th lngrid Bergman interpreting the dreams [designed by the surrealist Dali) af Gregory Peck.

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Freudian concepts have become embedded in our language: and beliefs. They have permeated art, literature, and popular culture, Artists, poets, dramatists, and critics a11 used Freudian jargon. Literary critic FIarold Bloom concluded that Freud had "'ustxrped the role of mind of our age, so that more t h m forty wars after his deatfl we have no common voc;abulary .for discussing the works of the spirit except what he gave us" "(1982,63f. One reason for the attraction of wirers and artists to Freud's ideas was his magnificent creative in~agination,His writing is sametimes very personal; indeed, his theory was partiy inspired by an analysis of his o m ~ s h e and s dreams. Freud5 works are full of charm, wit, some wisdom, and a good deal of dogma. Me was a maswr expositor of his ideas, and some of his works worrld remain literary classics even if his purportedly scientific theories were rejected. He himsef f thought that some of his case histories read more like short stories than serious science. But unlike most writers of fictisn, Freud tried to systematize his obsewatians in a comprehensive theory ofthe mind, A reflection of the attraction and resistance ta FreudS revelations on the hurnan psyche is Ibe large store of humor that has g r w n up, including some dreadhi puns-like ""Hatf of analysis is anal" "arty Indik in Byme, 1988, 328). Freud, in the first serious work on humox; Jokes and Their Relation fa the URGO~SGE'O~~S (19051, propssed that j a b s serve as sakty valves for releasing unconseiaus wishes that the ego does not openly acknowledge. Ogden Nash's "The Seven Spiritual Ages of Mrs. Marmaduke Moore" is an example sf the penetration of Fretldian ideas into popular culture, inctuding his sexism, Mrs. Moore passes from childhood Methodist, to marrying an Episcopalian, Divsrced at tllirry she "found peace in the sweet Bahai and Bahaief' For@! and still an. abancaloned wfe. Shefelt old urges stirring t-o Iqe. She dipped her locks in a borntl of henna A n d booked a passage *rough Vienna. She paid a professor a fzuge emolument 7"0 demonstral;e what h k ponderclus ~jolumemean& Returningtshe preached to r;tze unempkwd The gospel wcording t~ St. Freud,

After ""gingYogin at fray and haGng at sixty ""imersed herself in the Oxford Group," the moral is et ear: Wzenseven@stares her in theface SheYll Fzavefound some other statc? of grace,

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Nahmmed may be her Lord and Or Zeus, or Mithros or Zoroaster; For when a lady & bad@sexed God knows w j ~ agod t is coming next.

In later life Freud moved on to explanations of human nature and behavior and the unconscious motives underling all art, literature, and religion. After World War I had shaken the general faith in progfess in Europe, Freud began to emphasize the irrational basis of human nature. He introduced the concept of a death instinct as the source of the aggression in conflict with the life instirrct of the liloido, kcording to his theetry, the frustrations of hurrsm existence arisi~rghorn the conflicts of the different .forces in the psyche can't be eliminated. Mre are all itf-it's a mater oCdiPferent degrees of adaptsion, Aggression, Freud carTle to believe, was an innate instinctual disposition of human nature, Civitization depends on repression of our brute instincts; yet repression causes mental distur;&ances,He did not have a very lofty conception of basic human nature, remarhng: "'I have found little that is good about hurnan beings, In my experience most ofthern are trash"' (quoted in Byrne 1988, 194).

Freud was no friend of religion, dlougtl the psychsandyic movemerzl: bears some resemblance to a religious cult. The British writer G, K. Chesterton dubbed psychoanalysis ""confession without absolution" (London Obserz~er,December 9, 1934) wherein the patient transcends the anxiety of guilt by recognizing a kind of naturalized original sin. Freud did ialentiq sin with g11il.t. He diagnosed religion as "a universal obsessional neurosis'"h& is ""a derivative of the most primitive instincts" "96.3, "1"). The need .for reIigion originates in the infant's sense of helplessness, with God as an idealized father answering the desire for protection, He scorned mysticim, declaring that he never felt any religious experience of God, of the unbounded, the infinite, or being one with the world. He Gewed such ""oceanic""feelings as regressions to the infant" not distinguishing his ego kom the rest of the world. He concluded that religion is "a mass illusian" h a t offers escape .from the miseries of life by derryirlg reality. Freud did not, h m v e r , arwe directly that God doesn't exist. Though he was a nonbeliever, he separated questions concerning the truth or Ilaisity of religious beliefs from their psyehoEogical origin, Freudian concepts seemed to offer a new understanding of almost everphing, from religion to education, poetry to ad-vertising; no area of modern fife was left: untouched. He offered explanations for the origin. of society religion, art, and literature, applying his pqcttic revelations to the whole range of human history, Culture, he argued, is a product of

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sublimation. Myth, religion, and morality are all a r z z p t s to find compensation for satisfactions lacking in rediw Works of art are "the imaginary gratifications sf uncsnsciaus wishes" 0961, 44). Artistic creati~ty is ultimately motivated by what the artist really wants: sexual satisfaction, If be is sexually unhlfilled, the artist creates wishful c o n s t r ~ c t i o ~ ~ s af his fantasy life, Thus for Freud, art is a kind of substitute gratification. If an artist were cured of his ""neumsis,"he might lose his creatirrity; Scientific curiosiw was $so supposed to originale in sublimated sexual curiosity. Freud's personal sense of values reflected the middle-class morality of the Victorian era in which he was brought up, but his work seemed to chattenge traditional humm values. He argued that 'ban's judgments of value fallow Airectfy his wishes for happiness-that, accardingiy, they are an mernpt ta support his ildusions with arguments" (119G1, 92). He brought inta the open dark irrational drives at the base of human nature, which were foreshadowed in the romantic reaction to the Enlightenment faith in scientific ~ i o n a l i $ His theory ehibits human bellavior as ultimately determined by irrational impulses, Our actions are neither free nor motivated by reason. Reasan is a servant of the id, which is a "'seething cddron of lust, blindly seeking graificarion" (1933, 74). The primitive urges of the id are in constant conflict with the restraints af civilized society All values, morality, religion, and art spring ultimaely from unconscious desires of sexuality arzd aggression. Yet Freud worrtd not have approved of using his ideas to suppoa unrestrained sexual .freedom in srder to make people happier and hedthier mentally, He believed that "the price of progress in civflization is paid in forfeiting happiness" ((1961,62). Moral martrrity consists of arengthening the ego3 control af the irrational impulses boiling up from the unconscious. The goal of psychoanalysis is reminiscent of Socrates" maim: Know thyselfl Freud advised patients to "look into the depths of your own soul and Xearn first to know yourself" "917,1143). However; he suggeaed novel means ta selE-knwled~, And what one comes ta understand about the self does not at all suggest the Socratic thesis "'Virtue is knowledge," that true understanding would naturally lead to virtue, Freud offers rather the revelation of the dark abyss of the unconscious, rooted in evolutiorlary driws to survive and reproduce. ffe had a tragic wlife. He offered no message sf salvation, either ar at least a stoical ~ e aE indi~dualfyor for society He saw no cansolation from philosophy; no hope Rom religion. He claimed only to transform neurotic misery into ordinary unhappiness. In a letter to Marie Bonaparte, when he was eighty-one, Freud declared that "the moment a man questions the meaning and value of life, he is sick, since neither has any objective existence" [(Freud,E. L, 1968,436).

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fn the last half of his life, Freud experienced much personal suffering along with the gmat international success of the psycboanal~icmovement, He had developed cancer af the mouth and jaw in 1917 and undewent thirty-three painfrll opemtions, By the end of his life, he was in constant pain, W e n the Nazis marched into Vienna in 11938, his property was confiscated and he was forced to flee ta England. Before they let him go-only in response to international pressure and a 20,000 pound ransom from Princess Bonaparte-he had to sign a statement that he had been well treated, But the sl"ten-cited story (first related in Ernest lfones'sbiography) that Freud sarcastically arlded: "'I can heartily recommend the Gestvo to anyone" was not true. Wllerr the document turrled up after Mrurld War Il, it si~rlplybare Freud's signature (Ferris 1997,393). Freud worked to the end, He wrote his East work, Moses and Monslheistul, when he was eighty; He carried on his correspondence up ta a few days before his death at age eighty-three. His son Erns claimed that his father never failed to answer any letter, usually within ai day. In 1939, dying of cancer, Freud told his physician that his life had become ""nothing but tarare and makes no sense any more. . . , Talk to h n a , and if she thinks it's right, make am end sf it" "erris 1997,397). Freud's ideas hawe alwrrys been a subject of great controversy botb within and outside the psychoanalpic movement. He refused to allow his disciples ta question his basic doctrines. His demand for absolute loyalty to his dogmas does not sge& well for his scientific objectiviity; 'tn science, pupils are ideally supposed to freely criticize ideas; of the master, though this is nst ailways true even in the physical sciences, A number of Fretxd5 early disciples left to found their o m schools of psychology. Alfred Adler, once a member of Freud's inner circle of Vielinese psychoanalysts, was excammunictnted in 1911, forbidden even to call himself a psychoanalyst, He had dared to question Freud's thesis that infarztile sexual development is decisive in determining persondity Freud Eater referred to Adler as ai pygmy and his follswers as buffoons. The S ~ s Garl s Jrrng was seen at one stage as Freud's successor, Freud spoke of him as his anointed son. It has been suggested that the Christian and very Aryan Jung was chosen to make psychoanatysis mare appealing outside the largely Je\ivistl circle of Viennese psychoanalysts, But there was a falling out, and Jung broke away to develop his own iriffuenrial school sf psychology. Jung had argued that dreams reveal creative airchetypes, not primarify sex drives, and he also questioned the central role of the Oedipus camplex. A curiaus story concerning the enmity between Jung and Freud is related in ai biography af the Irish novelist lfarnesJoyce. lfoycewas influenced by Freud, but he did not like him as a man of science. ('3 do not believe in any science," he declared.) Jung was asked by am editor to write ai preface far a German edition of Ulysses, He

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complied but w o t e disparagingly of the novel. lfoyceasked a friend why lung was so rude to him. The friend replied: ""Trmslate your name into German" "ay = Freude] (Etlmann 1959,641). Freud is a man of many faces, judging by the way people praise and vilify him and his work. He has been called brilliantly original, a rare genius, a would-be scientist of the mind, an artist, and a moralist. But he has also been called ruthXess, obsessed, paranoid, a liar, a witch doctor, a quack, and a fmud. The adulation and hostitiq that he aroused suggests that deep-seated values touching the human condition are at stake, He seems best characterized by the following o orons: conservative revolutionary, atheistic prophet, romantic rnedlanisr, scientific literary humanist. The geneticia J, B. S. Haldane rekrred t~ Freud's theory as a ""haf-f-science,""saddling the boundaries between science and the humanities. Psphoanalysis is a theory of personality and a teehniqlxe of therapy and it suggests a philosophy of life, Psychoainalysis has suffered many accusations, Psychoanalytic therayy, minus the tedrnieal jargon, is said to be just a method long practieed by the shamans and medicine men of primitive societies. Freud's theories are said to be immoral, sheer inventions, .false ar empty, and unfalsifiable, He has been accused of attributing some of his own dreams to patients and of asking leading quesrians of patients that would elicit the kind ofl-espanses that would fit his theories. His dependence on his memory of analysis sessions-for he never took notesmay have introduced distortions. Freud, like marly psychoanalygs who followed him, resorted to attacking opponents by psychoanaaf-yzingtheir motives, He diagnosed the revolts of his disciples as mor.lv&ed by a wish of sons for the death of their father. Of course, some critics put Freud himself on the couch, diagnosing his theory as merely a product of his o~vn repressions and complexes, ilrt his collection of twenv biting criticisms of Freud and all his works, Frederick Crews concludes that "the book shows psychoanalysis to have been a mistake that grew into an irnposture" "998, ix). Freud$ originality has o f en been challenged. He remarked that his priority in the discavery af repression, anticipated by the philosopher SchopexzZlauer, was dtxe to his not being a wide reader, h t his writings reveal eaerlsive reading in philosophy and literature. His originality lies in taking ideas, many of them foreshadowed at least vaguely by earlier thinkers, and linking them into a comprehensive theory of mind, One can see an early anticipation of FreudS idea of a mind beset by conflicting .forces in St, Paul: ""Eo not understand my awn actions. Far I da not do what X want, but X do the thing X hate, . . . So then it is no longer I that do it, but sir1 which dwells vvithtin me'' [(Romans7: 15).At a celebration of his selrentieth, birthday, when he was acclaimed as the discoverer of the

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unconscious, Freud disclaimed the title, cammenting: ""Thepoets and pMlosophers discovered the unconscious; what I discovered was the scientific method by which the uncanseious can be studied.'We saw his coxltribution in systematizing the irrsights of the poets and philosophers usirrg"a few psychological furmulas" (Trilling 1950,34), m a t was Freud's evidence for the truth of his theory s r .for the effeetiveness of his therapy? Ele claimed to have arrived at his theory of psychoanalysis irrductively generalizing Tram data of his patients and horn self-analysis,but this kind af eedence is insufficient. In medical science the efficaq of a treatment requires controlled studies, especially when there is the problem of placebo effects. One study showed that people felt better after merely waiting in line for psychoanalytic treatment (Time, April 2, 19799).Adalf Grunbaum (1984) argued at length that Freudians have failed to demonstrate a causal link between repressed memories and later neurosis or between psychoanalytic therapy and cure af mentat disorders. To rel"ute Freud's theory af dreams, Grunbaum looked to disconfirming evidence. Since repressed wishes are supposed to be the ultimate causes of dreaming, if Frcud3 theory were true, psychaanalyl;ie treatment would reduce the frequency af dreaming, But the frequency of dreaming is not reduced, Therefore, Freud's theory is false, Recenl: smdies of the brain processes during rapid eye movement (REM) dreams suggest, contrary to Freud, that "&earning is more &in to a regrxlax; internally generated delirium than it is ta neurosis" "eonard 1998,631. REM states of the brain begin early in the development of the fetus. They may have the function sf establishing brain pathways, Wowever, physiological analysis of the causes of REM states do nor necessarily preclude the sigrlificance that Freud aflributed to the accompanying dream images and stories. The idea that the underlyirlg- "real'kearaing of behavior is the opposite of the apparent snrface meanirrg is exasperating to the rationd scientific mind: It lash as if we can prove anptiing if we can assume both p and not p. Karl Popper concluded that psychoanalytic theory was not scientific because, as consrued by Freudians, it is unfalsiiiable. We cornpared the ubiquitous spurious confirmatians of psychoanalysis to those of a a r o l o ~Some . psychoanat~icirrtesywtatiuns indeed seem rather far-out, Arzli-Semitism, Freud declared, is an expression of gentiles' uncsnsciaus dread af circumcision, Christianity has the latent content af a dethmnement of the Father by the Son-an Oedipal wish futfillment, Churchill's toiler training has been cited to account far his putting Britain back on the gold standard-anal retention associated with hoarding, Frend had argued in a 1911 payer with classical scholar Ernst Oppenheirml that "in dreams irr folklore, gold is seen in the mast rmambiguous way to be a symbol of Eeces" "C191 1, t 8'7).

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One of the most serious accusatiisns concerning Freud" work has been raised by JeffreyMasson, who for a time was director of the Freud archives. He argued in The Assault on Truth (1984) that Freud mistakenly abandoned his early "childhood seductisn" "this, that illusory memories of childhood sexual abuse are expressions of infantile wishes for sexual relations with the parent. He had originally accepted patient reports of being semally at_ltxsed as children as literally true, but in 1896, he decided that most such repms were fantasies of repressed infantile sexual wishes. This conclusion resulted in a crucial shift of his thinking to a focus on the inner workings of the mind, Masson sees in this reversat the "root of the presew-day aerility of psychoanalysisr' (1984, 144). He maintains that Freud's abandonment of the seduction theory diverted attention .from the many real and tragic cases of child abuse, Xn defense of Freud, it has been armed that he didn't doubt that actual sexual molestation of various degrcles occurred, but that what is relevant in causing later menta! disturbances is the fantasizing reactions of the child, not the actual events, The problem of child abuse raises difficult questions that go beyond the problem of determining what is fact and what is fantasy. Judgments of criminality or immorality concern not just the gross physical events but the interpretation, the context, and the intentions. Freud3 conception of women is not popular with feminists. For example, he thought that penis envy plays a dominant role in womerlls psychological development. We denigrated women as caarared mates, a rather literal example of his aphorism that "anatomy is destiny." Women in Freud" view are inferior to men since they cannot attain fix11 maturity. They are said to be vain, self-centered, lacking a sense of justice, and they are ""morally inferior." This view seems to reflect the pasition of women in Freud's society rather than describe their essential natlxre. Concerning Freud's notion of the impoamce of penis envy in the psychological development of girls, Gloria Steinem remarked that feminist w o m n "envied not men's anaomies, but their male-only earling power'"1992, 117). Late in life, in a letter to his friend and patron Princess Marie Bonaparte, Freud seemed to show same doubt about his views on fhr~men.Ele confessed, half seriously, ""Thegreat question that has never been answered and u\ihich 1 have not yet been able to answer, does despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is "at a woman want?' k might be noted that bolxrgeois Victorian sexist that he was in many respects, he did designate his youngest daughter Anna Freud (1895-19821 as his intellectual heir, She was the only one of his six children to pursue psychoanalysis, achieGng a measure of fame herseIG working particularly in child therapy. She was open ta making actual observations of children's bbeha~or,something her father never did, "

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ff one reads Freud as science, one is likely ta be disappointed. There is e evidence that his theory can predict or be used to rnodrather l i ~ l hard iQ behavior, Freud sometimes made claims that exempfi1Fy his lack af scientif c rigor: ""applicationsof analysis are always confirmations of it as well" "tandard Edition, 22:146). Even if his practice o&en fell short of good science, he belielred that science provides the only path to enlightenment abolxt the hlxman condition: "It would be an illusion to suppose that what science cannot give us we can get eIsewherem"(1964,92).m e n science turns inward to enlighten human nature, the problem of selfreflecting knowledge arises. (The Viennese satirist KarX Kraus remarked that "'Psychoanalysis is the disease it purports to cure'"Zohn 1990, 171.) How can the krrower ot-?jecrivelyknow his own subjectivig? Mow can we explain what is most intimately known in terms sf what is indirectly known? Freud tried, with limited success, to foflow the common pattern in science of explaining what is experienced in terms of what is not experienced.,Waitever the final judgment is af its scientific value, much af his work has actzie-ved enduring acceptance: his revelaions of very real unconscious conflicts; that W often deceive ourselves about what we want; haw tough it is to fallow the Socratic advice: Know thyself Freud's ideas strike a resonance in our inner experience. His theory of mind "feels closer to the experience of living, and therefore htraing, t h m any ather system currendy in play" rime, November 29, 1993). Construing his works from the standpoint of imaginaive literamre might help explain why he has so csrnrnonly ""proved thrilling to academic humanists" "(~rews 1998, xxvi),Although Freud claimed to discover the underlying causes of behavior, he might be better interpreted as revealing meaninghi themes in the association of ideas that resonate with our feelings and intuitions, From this perspective, he p r o ~ d e sinterpretive understanding of our mental life as opposed ta a causal scientific analysis. (See Habermas 1971 on Freudian psycholow as a '%ermeneutic actiMtyFksapposed to a science.) W H. Auden's "In Memory of Sigmund Freud" wel ewresses his place in twentieth cenitully culture: I f ~ f i e v he t w m wrong and at times aabsLlrd 7"0 us he is no more a person lVow but a whole climate ofopbion.

In his popular lectures on psychoanalysis, Freud described the place of his work in the history of science as delivering the third "severe blow" to human vanity. First, human kind was displaced from the center of the universe by the New Science of Capernicus through Newon. Then Darwin reveded our animal origins. Finally, ""probably the most woundir~g" blow, Freud's discovery sf the unconscious showed that "the ego is not

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master in its own house'"(E952, 2961, He wanted to be a no-nonsense scientist, but he became more of a speculative romantic. Thougfl he always insisted that his psychoanalytic theory was scientific, he expressed dolxbts that his persondiq fitted the role of scientist. He w o t e in 1900 to his comrade Wilhelm Fliess: ""Im not really a man of science. . . . I am by temperament a conquistador. . , with the curiosity; the boldness and the tenacity that belongs to that type of persan'7Ferris 199'7, 169). Adventure into the unknown to conquer new areas of knowledge is, frowever, a prominent motive of the great men and women af science. Shortly behre his deadl, in exile in England, Freud was invikd to sign the charkr book of the R u y d Sociev, Me proudly remarked in a letter thar his signature was joir-ring the good company of lsaac Newon and Charles Darwin. In intellectual adventure, he is their equal; in scientific achievement, he is not.

1 1.3 Would-Be Technologist of Behavior Burrbus Frederiek SIcinner (1904-1990) was the mast influential psychologist in the behaviorist tradition and one of the best known and most discussed psychologists after Freud. He presents an interesting contrast to Freud. The two had very difEerent backgrounds and develaped quire different conceptions of human nature, but they shared ai driving ambition ta propagate a scientific p s y & o l o ~thar would reveal the true causes of human tsehavior; Skinner" early interest was not science but centered on music and literature. lit>out the only draracteristic as a youth that might have suggested his scierltific career was a great curiosiv in how things work. From childhood, he loved inventing little gadgets. His greatest early influence was Mary Craves, a cultitrated high school and Sunday school teacher who attracted him to the humanities. W e n he mentioned in his eighth grade literature class his father's remark that Francis Bacon was the real author of Shakespeare" plays, Miss Graves sent him ta the library to investigate the question, Me gat interested in Bacon, later remarking that he became a Bacanian and adopted the ""abidingprinciple that knowledge is power" [Bjork 1993,241. A1. Hamilton College, a men5 liberal arts schaol, Skinner pursued his literary interests. After eoHege he tried for a year to became a writer: He gave it up when he finally realized that he "badnothing to say." He aXw q s rekrred to the year before entering graduate school as his "Dark Year," "me spent living a bohemian lik in. Greenwich Village and in Paris. He Gewed his becoming a behaviorist psychologist as a matter of "extraordinary luck," His ir-rterest ir-rpsychslow was sparked by coming across a remark of Bertrand Russefll that "Dr. Watson's Behaviorism is the

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spearhead of (the] attack'" on traditional philosophy. RusseH later expressed surprise that he had triggered Skinnerk intemst in Watson: "1 thought 1 had demolished behra~orism""iener 1996,241, John Watson (183-1958) initiated the behaviorist movement of psychology in 1913with his paper '4Psy&olo~ as the Behaviorist Views it." He reacted against the use sf introspection, demanding that psychotom study observable behaGor, not consciousness, Watson was impressed by the work of Russian physiologist Ivan Pavlcrv on conditioned responses in animals. In the best known example, F)avfovgat ai dog to salivate air: the sound of a bell by associaing the sorlrld with presentaton of food. The sound of the bell was the "conditioned stimulus" that caused the "conditioned response" of the dog's salivating. Vtiatson took up Pavlov's paradigm af conditioned reflexes as ai substitute .for the association sf ideas. Behaviorism associates not mental ideas but environmental stimuli with bodily responses. He applied rhe techniques used in studying animals to experiments in conditioning children, His notorisus claim was: Give me a dozen healthy infants, well-formed, and tny o m specified world to bring them up in and I'll guarantee to take any one at randoan and train him to become any End of specialist X rurighr select-doctom; lawer, arisf, merchant-chief*and yes even beggw-~nanm d thief, regwaess s f his tdenfs, penchants, abilities, vocations, and race of his ancestors f Watson 1924).

Mratsan wanted to bring the efficiency of engineering to salve social problems, but his academic career as ai psychologist was cut short by a scandd in 1920, He had conducted some unpublished research on human sexual response, using himself and a female graduate student as subjects, m e n his wife found aut, she sued fox: divorce. He was dismissed from his post at J o h s Hopkins and forced to turn to a career in advertising to supporf his new wife, the former lab assistant. (His sex research indirectly fostered the much later investigations af Alfred Kinsey, who picked up the idea of doing scientific research into human sexuality from a student of Waitson, the psychologist Kart Lashley)Wa&on conlinued ta write in psychotom but the further development of the vision af social engineering through behaviorism was left to B. E Skinner. Skinner followed Warson's stricture to avoid any reference to thoughts, emotions, desires, ar any mental states. He treated the brain like a black box, where we can obseme the inplxts and outputs but not what goes on inside. Because we can't directly see a brain state, Skinner limited himself to seeking functional relations between ai stimulus input and an output response. He spent many years studying conditioning under narrowly corltrolled conditions. He used a ""Skinner box," a small cage in which a rat s r pigeon cauld make simple responses. W e n a lever was

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pressed or a window pecked, a food pellet was released at the experimenterk discretion. A "positive enforcement" occurred when the frequency of response (like pressing a lever] increased when associated with a rewarding stirzlullls (getting a food pellet). Skinner spent marry years smdying in fine detail the effects of different schedules of reinforcement. He found, .for example, that it makes a big difference in the reinforcement of a pigeon's behaviar if reinfarcement comes in oneminute rather than quarter-minute intervals. He was a master oftraining animals, He could get pigeons ta play ping gong or mecute exotic dances, He was hired by the n a y ta train seals as 'katchdogs" for submarines. To train an arlilrlaf to p e r h m a complex task, he '"slraped" the emitted responses by reinforcing successiw approximatians af a desired behaGor, He discovered that learning can occur by accident. matever behavior immediately preceded the aypearance of a food pellet tended to get repeated. This is how he taught pigeons t s execute complex dances, Skinner appealed t s this kind of conditioning to explain superstitions, such as an athlete or a gambler perfoming a particular ritual to give them luck. If they had happened to do something before competing, that behaiaar was reinforced and became ritualized. Skinner's major contribution to behaviorism was his concept of operant canditioning. He studied "operants'"behavi~r of an organism that operates on the enGronment ~ t l consequences r that may =inforce the behavior. He refined EdLvard Thorndike" ''law of effect" concerning learning by trial and error: Responses that get rewarded tend to be repeated. Since for Skinner a reinforcement is whatever increases the probabili~of the response it folows, a response is simply a kind of beh a ~ o that r gets reinforced, Qperant conditioning, unlike Pavfov's reflex conditioning, selects our behaGor by rewarding it, BehaGor is not just reflexive reactian to what the environment stimulates yau to do now, it is a consequence of what the erreronment did for you in the past. Operant conditioning can be understood by analogy to Darwinian natural selection-a comparison that Skinner himself emphasize& In contrast to a naive teXealaa, adaptive traits of organisms arise because they serve the organism's needs to survive and reproduce. Darwin explained the presence of an adaptive trait by the fact that irr the past organisms having the trait did surTljve in greater numbers. Likewise, reinforcement aloesn" strengthen a particular preceding response, as if a future goal aaracts the response. Rather, reinforcements have selected responses in the past, which increase the probability af similar responses under similar conditions in the fixture, Skinner wol~ldanswer why the chicken crossed the road not by reference to its goals but by inquiring into how crossings in the past were reinforced, He advises: If you

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want to know yotxr o m purposes, watch for the consequences of your behavior, Asked late in life about influences an his work, Skinner replied: "We are all to some extent Freudians-as I: am still to some extent Presb~erian,I: don? thirlk ether one is admirable but merely irlevitable after a given historyr7Wiener 1996, 1"T"i7)From Skinner's perspective, Freud's real coxltribution to scientificpsychoXom was s h o ~ n that g many features of behmior that previously were considered accidental and thus inexplicable could be related to circumstances in the history of the indi~dual.Far example, Freud explained h n a OS reluctance ta drink, even when thirsty; disgust on an occasion Mihen she saw a dog drink from by her forgo~~en her lady conlpanioIis @ass,M a t Sknner hund most valrtable irr Freud was his ""pinring to hitherto unnoticed external causes in the enlrironmental and genetic history of the individual" "956, "19). Althsuglr his behaviorist principles we= developed largely from studies af rats and pigeons, he claimed that they generalize to human beings. One can test the power of positive reinforcement and see results that are not entirely obvious. For example, a class of srLtderlts can exert control an a teacher without her knowing it, If she moves about when lecturing, if the students smile more when she is on one side of the mom, f r o m more when she is or1 the other; she wiU drift to the side that elicits the smiles-whether or not she is aware af doing this, For modi1Fying specific behavior patterns, Skinner5 methods have often proved rather effective. If you haw a problem with addiction, insomnia, compulsions, and pho~ quicker, and cheaper bias, beha~oristtherapy may be m o effective, than Freudian psychoanalysis, A practical motto that fits Skinnerian therapy is that it's easier to behave one's way into a new way of thinking than to think one3 way into a new way of behaving. Skinner opposed controlling behavior by punishment, finding the carrot to be better than the stick, Positive reinhrcement of desired behaGor is preferable to punishment because it is more effective. Negative reinforcement strengthens behavior by withdrawal of stimuli (it feels good when someone stops beating you) But beating a child to extinguish bad behaviar aften anly leads to a temporary suppression. Punishment causes the individual to try to avoid the gtxnishment rather than inducing specific proper behavior. It tends to inhibit all behavior, leading the individual to withdraw, Rats "freeze u p ' h h e n shocked far behaving a certain way. Punisitlment may also have the negative side effect of teaching violenl: behavior, m&ing the individual more aggressive. The best animal trainers appreciate Skinner's ideas and rarely use punishment, Parents are often not as considerate in tmining their children. Skinner a ~ u e that d even the mild negative reirrbrcement of critical remarks on student papers is less effetctive in improGng writing skiits than

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remarking positively on the best aspects of the student%;work. His motto for education was: accentuate the positive! He expressed disappointment that his behaviarist technolom was aften ""kept out sf sur schools by false theories of learning bnd] teacher unions who are Luddites and are afr-aid that this [new technalog~]is going to deprive them of their jobsF7XSjark1993,187). FulfilIing some of his early ambition to be a novelist, Skinner wrote Walden T~uo(19481, which portrays what life in a utopian community based on his conditioning principles might be like, His ~ s i o sf n a beneficent Brave NewV\IOrld prompted a number of attempts to model communities after Watden Two. They served to bring out some of the rnq.riad problems that would arise irr red-life application of his ideas to redesign a culture. Most af the communities were short lived, only two have survived. 'Fwin Oaks was founded in 3_96"7n Louisa, Virginia, It was supposed to realize ideals of the beftaviorally "engineered'htupia depicted in Wakden Two. Though inspired by behaivisrist principles, Twin Oaks seemed to Skinner to show a "muddling through'" by using practical principles that "stood the test" [Wiener 1996, 110).TIre second enduring attempt to establish a community an Skinner's principles was Los Horcones ("the pillars'Lof a new society), founded in 19'72 in Sonora, Mexico. A Mexican couple took in twenq retarded and autistic children, Skinner was impressed with the way the children turned out*"They make an effort not to punish . . . and it shows, . . . I've never seen a group of kids who so genuinely loved each other and were so cooperative" (Wiener 1996,111). By understanding haw human behavior gets conditioned, so SEnner argued, we could solve all rhe problems of socierp 11: scienrific technolagy can put a man. s n the moan, why can't it improve education in the public schools? He was an optimist on the pmspects of reforming society: ""Ifhillk we have mity to understand ourselves to reach a golden age," h t only after svercoming an ""autmsded conception af man," We colxld, he insisted, create a new kind of man in a utopian throrld if only we would apply eEective behavior technology, But to apply the tedlnalagy sf aperant conditioning technoloapwe must give up the illusians af individual freedom, moral responsibility, and h u m n dignity because these discract from what will work in aGhieving gods, For Skinner the only factors determining human as well as animal behavior are a genelic disposition for conditioning, past reinforcement hisretry, and the present environment. Me rejected the very notion of free wil! as animistic-as if there were an inner man. in the mind who wills an outcome that the physical man executes, Do we then have to consider a further ""iner man'kithin the first inrrer man? He viewed cansciausness, thoughts, and feelings as mere epiphenomena-they arise as ef-

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fects of conditioning and play no role in determining human behavior. He argued that if psychology were a science of conscious experience, then it would indeed require a special methodalog-y;But a psychology thal strrdies only publiciy ohervable behavior is really part of biologgi and should use methods appmpriate to biolo@cat science. Even if we could samehaw observe inner states af the mind ar brain states, Skinner coxlterlds that we woltld still have to faif back on his conditioning dreary. Reference ta mental or brain states would only be usehl in uberstanding how behaviar can be modified if we could then discern the enGranmental causes of the brain states involved in particular behavior, Skr"11nertried to reduce the whole of mordity to control by conditioning, Since bsth blame and praise belong to the environmerzt, an individual "is not responsible. . , . [Ilt is useless to praise s r blame him" "(1965, 448). He conctuded that there is "no foundation whatsoever for any kind of legal system, for any religious belief, any moral code'"sirrce we are irrcapable sf choosing between right and wrong. There is no ""freeinner man" who can be held moraly or causally responsible for an indiviidual's behavior, He h u n d no place irl his scientific account of human behavior far ""a self as a true originator ar initiator af actionF"(19"T, 225). AIX there really is ta his concept of a self is a collection of response tendencies, We would live happier lives, he advised, if we would simply admit that all aur behavior is always ultimately cantraHed by our environment. Mre don't select our own beharrior; the environment does, Critics object that Skinner" idea of an engineerttd utopia would reduce human beings to the level of rigidly conditioned animals, Remarks like ""operantconditioning shapes bebiaGor as a sculptor shapes a lump of clay" (1953,91) did not endear him to humanists who do value h e darn and dignity. Skinner's ideas have aroused nearly as much scorn and heated condemnation as Freud"* A =view in Lfe in 1948 declared that the values expressed in Waiden Tiucl were a greater threat to Wester11civilization ""tan nuclear physicists and biochemists combined" (Bjark 1993, 155).Author Ayn Rand likened Beyoad Fredorn and Dignity to a 'Yrankenstein's monster: a corpse patched with nuts, bolts and screws from the junkyard af philosophy, Darwinism, Positivism, Linguistic analysis, with some nails bp Hurne, threads by Kwssel and glue tay the New York Post" [(Rand 1984, 137). Professor of psychiatry Thomas Ssasz, speaking at a symposium at Reed College, was so outraged that he called Skinner a "'murderer" who woutd deprive people of a meaningful life by reducing art, freedom, and all of man's ideals to mere behavior. Poet Stephen Spender referred to his works as "fascism without tears.'" Though his a m response to crilicism was generally mild, a review in the London Times Litemry Sldpplement gave a more vigorous deknse, declaring Skinner "an enemy only to empty and spineless humanism, with

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its endless repetition of well-meaning precepts without any rbought as to their translation into practice" (Hall 2972,68). Same find it ironic that he received the Humanist sf the Year Award for 1972 (aver ofojectionsf from the American Humanist Association. Skinner declared that "if humanism meant notlrirlg more than the maximizing of personal freedom and dignity; then 1was not a Humanist*If it meant trying to save the human species then I: was" "984,343). The pretension of reducing human naturt: to an aggregate of environmental csnditionings seems both ridiculous and offensive to most people. But Skinner did offer insights that have some explanatory cogency For example, he explains addiction to gambling as a case of variable ratio schedule of reinforcement-when rewrds come at random, even if rarely, behaviar occasisnally followed by the reward is difficult to extingttist~,His pigeons under intermittent reinfozernent (lengthening variable-ratio schedule), could be led to peck for food a thousand times before being rewarded, A principle sf "if at first you don't succeed, try, try again-provided you occasionally succeed'heems to be built into conditioning programs of animals, irlcludirlg human beings. He also finds here an explanation of the behavior of scientists who persist in working on a problem despite repeated failure. Behavior that is occasionally reinforced, in irregular schedule, resists extinction, This may well be part of the story but hardly justifies Skinner's conclusion that neither ~Xtpowernor character has anything to do with the renowed tenacity of scientists in their research. W e n Skinner ventured to show that even human language consisted of conditioned responses to the social environment, Noam Chomsky took him to task for "irresponsible ctaims" that "'dissolve into triviality or incoherence." Chamsky, who set off a revolution in linguistics Mrith his trarrsform~ionalgrammarpwrote a scahing review of Skinner's Verbal Behnuior and in a later review of Beyoad Freedom al-lcnl Digr-tiv elaborated "The Case Against B, E Skinner" "9"11). Chomsky argued that Skinner" pprogrm to account Eor verbal behavior as a product of environmental condi(ioning is empty Skinner couldn't on his terms speciQ what it is that a child learns in acquiring a language, in becoming competent to speak, He gave no more ttlaxr a wave of the hand in specirying the behwior that correspetnds to elements of language, haw these elements are structured, and haw new sentences never previously experienced can be understood. Chomsky posited capacities for language as an innate human quality The hndamental grammatical structures that underlie all languages are not learned but are genetically programmed in the human brain. The most glaring gap in Skirrnerk account of human beflavior is finding no place at all for reasoning or rational persuasion in affecting hu-

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man behavior, He saw no rote for cognition in motivating behavior. fnformation processing is important in the way people interpret situations, In addition to a history of operant conditioning, people exhibit cognitive learning and make systematic, logical irtferences, Skinner viewed deduction as merely ""driving new reasons from old . . . [which] depends upon a much longer verb& history" "971,96). But we can use general principles in learning how better to learn. In not taking account of r e ~ o n i n gmediated by language, he misses what most distinguishes the b e h a ~ ooEHom8 r sapiens from uther animals, Are we truly free when we express our wants if these wants have been irzduced by advertising or propaganda? Skirzner said that he "wants people to feel freer than we do nowt%brrl added that to achieue this ""we must understand what we mean by freedom and dignity" "all 1972, 65). He was often challenged to t e l us who controls the controllers, who shal design the designers of his rrtupian world? His usual answer: "We all control and are cantrolled5'-by our environments, by fear of ptlnishment, peer pressure, and advertisements, Who sets the standards for the good sociev and what is the source of the standards?Mtence the motivation to introduce the eneronmental changes that would control behaviorXoward what end? Here his vision comes ta a stop with the ultimate goal as simply survival of the community. And what criteria identify '"he community5"genetie, cultural, or political? Few find Skinner's answers satisfactory, but alternative answers lead into complex and controversial issues in moral and political philosoplry. Skinner the man generally struck interviewers as a complex personalitst sensitive, literate, and full of ideas, It is ironic that he conducted his life by carehlty reasoned planning and wanted ta design a rational society despite his insistence that reason plays no role in guiding human behavior. According to his theory, neither reason nor feelings shape our behavior; if5 all environmentat conditioning. AtIrougfl Ire rejected the very concept of freedom, he highly valued autonomy with uncoerced, voluntary decisions for himself and others. He atways tried to apply his ideas to his own case. In a paper entitled '40nBaving" Poem," he argued that a poet can no more take credit for a poem than a goose can for an egg it lays. So when an aged Sknner was honored at a conference of psychologists, with typical modest arrogance, he dismissed the praise just a far his achievements. "it's not my fault that 15msuch a genius-1" product of my enGronment,"

Suggestions for Further Reading Qsrk, D. 1993, B, E Skinner: A Lqe, Boring, E, G, 1950. A Hkmry cfExperimenfakPsytthol~a.

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Crews, E , ed. 1998. Unamtkorked Freud: Doub&rs C~onf-ronr a Legend. Ferris, P; 1997. Dar, Freud: A Lve. Gay, E 1989, Fre~id:A Lggfor Our Erne. Grunbaulrt, A. 1984. The Fourzdariolzs afPsychoar2aElysis: A PhilossphieaE Critique* Robinson, F": 1993. Freud and His Cvi~ics. SdIaway, E J, 2991. Freud, BiaEogZ'st qf the N i ~ j dB: q o n d the Psychoanatytic Leg-

end. Wiener; D. N . 1996. B, E Skinner:.Benign Anarchkt.

Our discussion of various contrastirzg images of science in Chapter 2 reRects the remarkable ambivalence people have shown toward science. It can. be the subject s r source of unbounded optimism or probun$ pessimism, hope or fear, adulation or repugnance, Sometimes science appears like a buuntiful goddess and sometimes more like a demon. For some thinkers, it is an impersonal, remorseless .force that undercuts all values, yet for others it repli-esents an influence promoting distinctively humanist values, The common human tendency is to think in. black-or-white terms, especially where our values and emotions are involved. The subtle questions about science and human values surely deserve a more discriminating response, Yet most people find it hard to cope with a camglex, nuanced, undogmatic, provisional, open-ended answer. Perhaps none of us can entirely escape the tendency to polarize our feelings, attitudes, and beliefs-but we can make an effort ta enrich aur understanding of some of the difficult qttestions about science and its uses and misuses. This book is designed as an encouragement, and a tool, to do just that. In this concluding chapter, we shall take a more critical look at those various images of science and scientists that we sumeyed in Chapter 2,

12.1. The Fruits of Scienc Optimism and Pessimism It should be obvious by nsw that we cannot rest content either with the Baconian optimism toward science discussed in 2.1, s r the Frankensteinian pessimism of 2.2. In their simple forms, both attitudes focus on one part of rhe truth but igrlore orher crucial aspeas of the total picture, The agpfication. sf science has already produced manifold human benefits, that much is clear-and the potential exists for many more. But science has also been put to many negative, desructive ends, most obviausly in warfare and weaponry, but also in the unintended, primarily

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secondary effects of radioactiGty and many other kinds of pollution, Vet even in the seemingly negntive cases, the overall cost-benefit result is far from obvious. If some argue that warfare would have been much more destructive since 1945 if we had not had the deterrent effect of nuclear weapons or that our standards of tivirrg would have been much lower if we had not had the products of those industries that have atsa polIuted our environment, can we prove them wong? Some traditional humanists scoff at Charles Percy Snowk claim, outlined in 2.5, that industriailizatim is the haye sf the poax; that scientific technology has generally bettered the conditions of the masses and is the only m y of makirrg further progress in this direction, Ailthough we may deplore the very real evils of the sweatshops and child labor of the early Industrial Revolution, we should also note that people came from the country seeking such employment as the lesser evil. Me can get a glimpse from Daniel Defoe" jolxrrlals of 1725 of the often brutal eonditions under which the majority of men, women, and children lived before the late eighteenth centusy in England, And we should remember how average standards of nutrition, health, and longevity have risen substantially over the past two centuries in the industrialized West*We might ask whether contemporary problems caused by poHution are worse for the average person than the health risks that accompanied the plumbing and garbage disposal in medieval towns. Those who express nostalgia for life in a prescientific culture tend to assume that they would be members of the privileged elite, not laborers or serfs. On examination, it is nst very clear what a cry of ""back to traditional humanist values" rereally means, Has the understanding offered by traditional culture outside science improved the lot of the average person? Mre must note that some of the greatest atrocities in history have been carried out not by those corrlmiaed to scientific values but by those putrposing to be faithful to traditional religions; the Aztec mass sacrifices, as well as the massacres sf the Aztecs themselves and other native Americans by the conqnistadors; the h r n i n g of heretics by the Inynisition; and the massacres of the Armenians in Turkey in 1915. In recent times large-scale abominations have been committed in the name sf political ideologies that hardly reflected the influence of science: the sawing of lniltiuns of Ukrai~liansin Stalin's Soviet Union and the irrconceivable horrors sf the Nazi death camps, The cruelties and slaughters of prescientific history are so numerous as hardly to a t t r x t atlention. However, news bulletins regularly remirrd us that the science and technology of our own time have not prevented the worst sf human nature from manifesting itself in horrible ways, Critic Lionel Trilling found "bewildering" Snow's claim that the traditional culture largely "manages the western warXd" "61962,465). Does this

244 1 Science and Values

make the traditional, nonscientific culture "'ansliverablefor all the anomalies, stupidilies and crimes of dle Wesern world:"" he asked (468). Snow didn't realXy say this, though he did suggest that the traditional culture has contributed little to impede the stupidities and crimes of those in power: Another literary critic, E R. Leavis, ridiculed Snow" 'hessage, the sum of his wisdom" that there is ""scial hape": What is the "social hope" that transcends, cancels ar makes indifferent the inescapable tragic condition aE each individud? Were, if not in i n d i ~ d u H. Lawenrael diagnoses aXs, is what is haged for. . . to be located?. , . [De [Snow$ conft~ian]in. his supreme novel, Women in Love. . . [insisting]on the truth that only in living individuds is life there, and indi~duallives cannot be aggregated ar equated or dealt with quantitatively in any way. f L962, 38-39]

fn response to LeaGs's criticism, Snow could have arwed that some aspects at least of indiGdual lives can be dealt with quantitatively-as is done in the social sciences, And surely we can make some sense of ""scial hape" far the indiGdual beyond her limited life span, in a feeling af participation in the pmspects for the future generations, or at least for her own progeny W a r then about the dehumanized anti-utopias mentioned in 2.41 One cauld argue that such repressive d y ~ o p i a da s not truly represent the spirit of a scientific society h we have seen in $1, science depends essentially on the attitude of critical questioning being applied to theories and beliefs about the world-involviing a willingness to test them against the evidence of absermrion and to develop, amend, and even radically change them if necessary Science must remain open to such. imeltectual progress; otherwise prwailing theory becomes merely arr orthodox system of belief, and science proper ceases to exist. One might argue that even the maintenance of some sort af social stability is in the long run more effectively achieved by the apparently less stable democracies, which atlow changes both in governments and in ideas. Regimes that try to repress all political or intellectual change may succeed for a while, but when change eventtxally comes, it is likely to prove Golent, uncontrollable, and revalutionary; W will have to learn to live not only Mrirh the uncombrtable fact that there can be both beneficial and harmful appiications of science but with the even more uncomfortable thought that it is o&endifficult to tell which are which, However, there is no need to lapse into a skeprical or hopelessly quietist attittxde that what will be, will be, and there is nothing we can do abom i&It is perfectly possible, and surely most humanly rational, to maintain an open, yet critical attitude:

Scl'et2ceand Val~$c?s1 245 1. We should welcome the benefits that science and technology c m offer, while being aware that not all so-called benefits are as rrnproblernatic as they seem, and that elren the best-planned tecltnslogies have unforeseen, unintended, and unwanted consequences, 2. We should also be avvare that there will atways be forces in the world, bath in indiGduals and in institutions, that will tend to use the powers of science for their own ends, whatever those may be, and not necessarily Eor the benefit af humanie

The verdict that any particular technological development is or is not worthwhile must therefore be forever provisional and open to reevtrluation in light of new evidence. In this way, n s permanent answer can be given to questions about the uses of science, any more than about the truth of scientific theories themselves. W e n we consider the mativations of scientists, we had better be prepared to recognize that these, too, will often be mixed and camplicaed, not open ta evaluation in simplistic black-or-whi& terms. The pattern displayed in each af our case studies in the central chapters of this book illtxstrates this point. In all of them, we can find more than one motive operating, Has the vision faded of the scientist as a dedicated, incorruptible researcher, perselrering in the quest for truth without thought af rewad? We found the ideal of puce curiosity aXnroa completely realized ir-r some of the classic scientists, such as Mendel, Marie Curie, and Einstein, who were discussed in Chapters 4 and 5. But scientists are only human, It wuEd be unrealistic not to recognize other; more worldly motives that they exhibit: the need to earn a living; competition for appointments, promotion, grants, and prizes; ambition to influence the development of the subject; the temptation to make big money by paterztirlg inventions or setting up commercial companies; and the attractions af status, fame, influence, and power in the wider international communila!,We have seen all these in Chapters 6 thmngh 10, A few scientists may exbibit the obsessive, aggressive, destructive, macho tendencies expressed in the Frankensteiniaur image-just as some people (mostly men?) do in the wider communi-ty;But there seems ta be no good reason to believe in any general association of such personaliq traits with scientists. If anphing, the reverse would seem to be the case, The motivation of pure curiosity; the strong desire for knowledge just for its own sake, and a consequent respect both for the evidence of observation and for the rational arguments af other scientists are still prominent, especiaHy [even necessarily) among the most creative scientists, Of course, scientists have always ehibited a variety of rnotivations. But some absewers are concerned that with the indrxstriaEization sl"science

246 1 Science and Values

(see 1.41, the aims of science are shifting away from these traditional ideals because of the way scientific research is currenllp conducted and funded, a topic pursued further in. 12.6. Despite many reservations, however; most people on reflection tend to beliew in scientific progress, as affirmed in the motto of the Universiq of Chicago: "Cwscit scienlia, vita excolaturD-"Let knowledge grow sa that human life be enriched."

12.2 Does Science Undercut Humm V d ~ e s ? What about the charge (raised in 2.3) that science undexuts traditional values? Many have vviced this accusation-we cite just a few examples. Counterculture historian Theodore Roszak elaborated &lake's entreaty ""Nay God us keeplFram Single vision $E Newton's sleep!" arguing that the scientific vision presents each of us with ""te experience of being a cosmic absurdity; a creature obtruded into the universe without purpose, continuity; ar kinship" "~~taszak19"12,154).Philosapher Hans Tonas saw the "'categoryof the sacred" as "'most thoroutgNy destroyed by scientific enlightenment'' (1984, 23). British science journalist Bryn Appleyard called for a ""hulxlbling of seience" "because it has humbled man by robbing him of "the xxryrhs, metaphysics and illusions necessary Eor art" (1992, 170). Appleyard complained that science has created "the vision af main as a fragite, cornered animal in a valueless mechainismF"l 12) and that this ""hllow mechanistic vision . . . now threatens to destroy us" (248).

Some, however, have argued quite the apposite, American physicist Xsidor Rabi in a lecture at Columbia University on ""The Philosophical and Social Implicalions of 20th Century Physics'"ectared that science is "the anly valid undertying knowledge that gives guidance to the whoEe human adventure. Those who are not acquainted with science do not possess Ibe basic human values fiat are necessary in our time" ( q u a d in Time, May 26, 1963. Jacob Branowski expressed a more moderate view on science's positive eEect on values when he argued that "science has humanized our values. Men have asked for freedom, justice and respect precisely as the scientific spirit has spread among them" "965,90). Of conrse, much more coutld be said about rXlese large issrles than we can attempt in a book like this, Philosophers have debated the nature of values for more than two millennia-and there is today an explosion af publications on the sub/ect. But when beginning to reflect on these matters, we shorrid realize that ifwe agfee that in some sense scientific rl-reories give us truths about the world, we need not accept the view that there are no different perspectives on reality. Such "scientism," a pejorative label fur the view that h w l e d g e obtainable by scientific method exhausts all knowledge, goes far beyond science. Seientism is a highly

Scl'et2ceand Val~$c?s1 24'7

qtxestionable philosophical thesis when constmed as the reductionist claim that whatewr is not n~entionedin the theories of science does not exist or has only a subordinate, secondary kind off-edity, Making the distinction b e ~ e e primary n and secondary qualities [explained in 2.3) need not lead us to say that the latter do not exist. Colors may not be mentioned in theories of physics, ar if they are, they are explained in terms of differential reflection of various wavelengths of light, But that does not show that it is untrue, wrong, or misleading for us to continue ta describe things as eolored, The same goes for the other seeondary qtxalities: sounds, heat and cold, tastes and smells, 7'0 explain why X is the case in terms of what in the physical structure of the world mrrkes Xoccur, is not to explain Xatvay, as if Xwere not really there to be explained after all, Science explains an event bp extlibiting general connections between some of its properties and properties of other eventa In thus relaeing a given property to others, scientific: explanation may give us a new understanding of the pmperty, but it does not eliminate its redity; Much the same argument can apply to many other quaiities that mare obviausty involve value. Consider aesthetic values, We describe certain combinations of colors or sounds as harmonious or discordant, exciting or drab, happy or sad, conventional or original, Are these value-laden terms necessarily undercut by the thought that what we thus describe can also be described in terms of physical properties of wavelengths and arnptiludes of light or sound? Accepting the truth of the pbsical story does nor: imply that there is no justification for aesthetic responses and evaluations, Creative sBerrtists often find inspiration m d great beau5 in what 0thers see as dreary or threatening. Physicist Richard Feynman saw great value in the scientfic worldvim that can lead one "to imagine things infinitety more marvelous than the imagining5 of poets, dreams of the past" "958,262). He felt inspired by the .vastness af space and time, the dance of moXecules, and the evolution of life, Far Fepman, science had the thrili of% "grand adventure"; the awe and mystery of nature was Eclr him deepened by scientific knowledge, Noting that few unscientific people seemed to share his feelings about science, be lamented that '"this is not yet a scientific age" because poets and artis& rarely try to deal with the world of science (262). The reason why more people aren't singing scienceQraises, he surmised, is that they can? read the score of the music. Feynman's remarks suggest that those who view science as undercutting aesthetic: values fail to appreciate the values he found in eonternplating the world of science, But he did not address the question of whether the aesthetic values to be found in science can substitute for those that most people find in art, music, and literature. Most people are

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interested in the practical results of science, not very much in the ideas behind the applications, Evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins argues that Keats, in his poem "Lamia" bee 2,3), "'could hardly have been m o w~r ~ n g "in believing '"chatN e W n had destroyed all the poetry of the rainbw by reduBng it to the prismatic colorsF"61998, X ) , We need to inquire, ftowevex; in just what way b a t s was wong. Dawkirnss elaboration of a scientific explanarion of what causes the appearance of a rainbow hardly evokes the feelings sf awe and beauty that Keats saw threatened by a scientific analysis of our perception of a minbow. fithough we can appreciate the value of both perspectives, one does not replace the orher; and we cannot unite them into a sir-rgleexperience. What W should say is that cornpetition between scientific descriptions sf nature and artistic perceptions only arises when we make inferences about their connection. m a t many critics find lacking in science is "uultinrate expla~~atians," that is, explanations in terms of purposes. The Italian humanist scholar Giarnbattista Vim (1668-In$$)claimed in The New Science that we cannot really know the external world through science; we only know what we are acquainted tnrirh "from the inside," such as our own motives and purposes, Thus we can know human affairs in a way that we cannot hluw nature, kcordirrg to Vicv, only God c m ""krrow'hattrre, because He created it, and only the one who makes a thing truly understands it (1982, 198).Thus, true knowledge of art and literature is direct, immediate perception of particular things in individual experience. A similar argument is put forward by the poet Archibald MacLeist-E,who tried to specif?ra kind of knowledge that only literalure can provide, He firmly rejected Bertrand RussellS; statement of scientisrn; "Whatever can be known can be known by means of science" "945, 834). MacLeish insisted that "'poety is also capable of knowledge . . . a kind of knowledge of which science is nett capable.'' Me saw science as giving us knowledge "by abstraction," Poetry dses not abstmct; it rather ""presents the thing as the thing," which gives us (irz the English poet Matthew ArnoldPs words) ""a full, new and intimate sense of it'7MacLeish 1956,49-50). A desire to reject scientific iireeductionism'kean already be found in Socratesbeaction to the speculative natural philosophers of ancient Greece. W e n asked if he believed a certain legend, Socrates, in Plato's P ~ G ~ I - replied: US, T might proceed to give a scientific account.

, , , Tf our skeptic, with his somewhat crude science, means to reduce every one of the legends to the ~ need a deal af time for it. I myself have cerstmdard of p r o b a b i l i ~he7tf t & d y no time for the business, . . . I can't as yet %know myselEtba the in-

Scl'et2ceand Val~$c?s1 249 scription at Delphi enjoins, and so long as that ignorance remains it seems to me ridiculous to inquire into extrmesus matters. (1961,229~3

tn the PLaonic didogue Baedo, Socrates staited: T once heard someone reading fro111 a book by Anaxagoras, and asserting that it is mind that produces arder and is the cause of evemhing. This explanation . . . made me suppose, to my delight, that in Anaxagaras I had found an a u t h o r i ~on causation who was after my own heart. . . . As I read an I discovered that the fellow made no use of mind , , , but adduced causes like air m d aether and water m d many other absurdities, It seemed to me that he was just about as inconsistent as if solrteone were to say, the cause af everything that Socrates does is mind----andthen, in trying to account for my sever&actions, said first that the reason why I am lying here now is that my body is composed of banes and sinews, and that the bones are rigid. . . and since the bones move freely to their joints the sinew by relming and contracting enable me somehow to bend my limbs, m d that is the cause of my sitting here in a bent position. (1961,9Tb)

Socrates' concern was ro emphasize that some reasons for human acrietns are not a mager of mere pfrysiological causation. We abandoned physical investigatisns in favor of phritasophical inquiry into ethics and politics-seeking, for example, the essential nature of justice, (The philosopher of science Karl Popper [l9631 saw Western philosophy taking a wrong turn here and advised a return to the pre-Socratic concern with the natural thrortd.) The Socratic hope was expressed in the dictum '"vifiue is bowledge," thou@ not the kind of kfletwfedge offered by naturaE science. m a t then are we to make of moral values and social values in the light of science? Suppose we accepr that in some sense it may be possible in principle to describe and explain the warkings of human bodies and bmixls-presumably in the vocabrlfary of physiolo~yand cellular biology and perhaps genetics and molecular biology as well. Does this irrvalidate the evaluation of some attitudes and actions as better than 0thers, as more worthy of admiration, emulation, and promotion? Once again, the possibili~of one level of description need not undercut the rationality ar intelligibiXity of the other, In practice, nor: even the mast hard-nosed exponent of what is sometimes called "the scientific attirude'kan avoid making evaiuations of his own and other people" hehaivior in terms of rationality, ethics, s r political wisdam, Scientists themselves certainly evaluate each other in these ways, Xike everybody else, as we have seen irr many of our case studies.

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As we noted in 2.4, some see in science a threat to human freedom. The progress of science seemed to confirm a general thesis of determinism, that all events, including human actions, are determined by causes and these causes are governed by natlxral laws, If human behavior is then in principle predictable, what room is there for free choice? What then becomes af morality, since without freedom there can be na moral msponsibility? [The advent of quantum theory, which posits irreducibly probabilistic determinations of events, merely exacerbates the problem sf free will-what kind af freedom is there if a choice sccurs by chance?) The classic answer to this concern is to distingrxish among the causes of human acrion: A free action is not one that is uncaused but one that is uncoerced. Actions are free to the extent that they express our swn desires-as J, S. Mill put it, ""liberty consists in h sciendoing what one desiresn"(936, 549). In this sense, the g r o ~ of tific knowledge enhances human Ereedom rather than inhibits it if it is used to realize sur desires by showing us how to wercsme abstacles in atairling aLlr goals, Freedom on this analysis is a malter of degree, althougtr in moral and legal judgments we ofterr categorize betlavior as simply free or not, The real threat to freedam that remains lies in the capacity that scientific knowledge can prorride for some people to exert controt over others. Insofar as science irlcreases the capaciv to predict human behavior, it could be used t s manipulate people" behavior ta serve the interests of others, A subtle problem arises with the passibility of using propaganda, acivertising, and conditioning to create "false needs" "(as Marcuse called them), needs that are in some way alien t s a person's proper or natural desires. What critics find most sinister in Skinner's program for social engineering is a shaping of our very wants and inclinations to behave. The psycllological theories of the causes of human behavior discussed in Chapter I I raise furlher questions concernirrg human freedonr. Both Freud and Skinner viewed as illusory our common. intuitive .feeling af freely choosing courses of action. Freud held that the conscious self can only serve the unconscious, instincltxal drives of the id. Skinner denied that there is a free self because he recognized n s mental self that makes decisions, He argued that our choices are governed by conditionings that trace back to environmentail causes over which we have no control. Humanistic psychalag-y; by contrast, locates our sense of freedom, the self-direction of our actions, in an emergent self that can by raiond reflection integrate the desires that guide our choices. Increased knowledge af one's awn mativations could, on this vTiew, enhance human freedom, In all these accounts we should be wary of the genetic fallacy, of reducing what somedling is to its causal origins. This fallacy is dear in the case of mathematical truths, matever causal processes in the brain

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might be found to correspond to our calculating, say, that 5 + 7 = 12, they cannol: conaitute the truth of clle equation.

12.3 1s Science Vdue-Neutrd?: As we saw in 2.6, one standard response to the question of haw science relates to values is to say that it is fundamentally and necessarily valueneutral. A distinction is made between the theories about laws of nature that pul-g science gives us and applied science or technoloa, in which humarr beings marripul~eand change the wodd, trying to fulfil1 their various desires or goals. Theories are thought to be a matter of knowledge, but values, which people try to promote by practical action, are often assumed to be a purely subjective matter and not a topic -Forkxlswiedge. We identified three distinct theses thin this belief in science's value-neutrali~Let us now consider them criticaifly, in reverse order. The applications of science are, ta use an s&-repeatedphrase, "for society to decide.'"ut how can decisions about how to apply scientific howledge be made by society? Can scientific research and its technological applications be under the democratic control of the citizens wha ultimately pay for it and are affected by it? There is really no such agent as ""sciety" to make such decisions; that is, society is not an entity that can arrive at a decision, at least not when no practical possibility exisls far aH cirizens to meet together and consider what should be done. The decisions of socieq are redly the decisions sfvarious institutions-governments, courts, corporations, banks, universities, churches, political parties, pressure groups, and so onand, of course, the decisions of individuals. In democracies, there are processes sf election-and in some countries, rekrenda on specific issues-by which a decision of some sort is extracted from a mass of individually expressed prekrences. But this kind of mechanism, wluable and, indeed, essential as it may be .for choosing a gwernment and far making corlstit~ionalchanges, cannot for obvious practical reasons be used to produce a decision on every detailed question of rlle application of science, There are good reasons for wonderirlg how far contemporary scientific r e s e a ~ hand its technological application is (or cotrid ever be) under the democratic cantrol of the citizens. Much vital research is now conducted under conditions of military or industrial secrecy, By the time the results of such research become publicly known, it is too late far anyone to argue that the effort and resources might have been better directed elsewhere, Such can be the situation facing a newly elected politician being briefed about the technolo@cal programs that have been going on behind the scenes. ""Experts'%iXl advise him, "This is a

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project on which much has already been spent, which is soon to come to fruition, and which it would be madness to abandon at this late stage, just when we are abaut ta gain an advantage over our rivals." The industrialized natrlre of so much modern scientific research and ~cflnology requires a long lead-time for development, a large number of people with specialized expertise, and as a consequence, a great deal of money. As a result, a scientific project typically acquires a momentum of its o m that any outside force, even a clear mdority of public opinion, will encounter extreme difficulty in stopping. Artother factar favoring tilose responsible far directing research is that they can usually determine h w the matter is presented to the public, because of its very technical nature and the secrecy that usually surrounds it*With the aid of those skilled in the ways of the mass media, public opinion can be "molded." Consider, for example, how the Strategic Defense Initiative (see 10.1) was presented to the Arllerican public as ""Sar Wars," thus associating it in the public mind with movies in which the goodies beat the baddies by clever technology. Wtlo collld disagree with SDI under that description? Let us consider now the secand paint of the .value-neutral conception of science: tJze claim that the only thing valued by the scientist is knodedge for its own sake. She would have to be a very "'pure" sciemist indeed who was content ta hide her light under a bushel, who did not care in the least about her scientific reputation and professional advancement, not to mention the influence and rewards that success can bring. V e v few of the scientists we have discussed wauid count as pure in this sense! But the areas in which funding, appointments, promotion, fame, and reward are to be found are determined by social forces outside the control of the indi~dualscientist. In the past, perhaps, the deciding factor was simply the pmfessionail judgment of his peers, and the =sources necessary for research might be pro\rided by the awrage wliwrsity laboratory But in many areas of science the picture has now changed enormously-the era of ""big science" has come, as we noted in 1.4. The leading edges of research and development now rquire large teams and expensive equipment to push them .Farward,Therehre, bard choices have to be faced about the direction and LLIrlding of research. Because of the h~tgecosts invoked, the concentration of research into larger units and its contml by large institutions seem ineGtable, Because governments have became increasingly involved in this process, a political element now entem into decision making even &out the purest scientific r e s e a ~ hScience . is becoming a business; medical science in particular is now often spoken of as part of the medical industry In his Herbert Spencer lecture of 1973, Popper expressed the concern over the change in the spirit of science

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tbait oceurs when ""to many dollars khasel too few ideas," ""Big science," he warned, "may destroy great science'" (1975,96). So elren though scientists may wish to say that their only professional commitment is to increasing human knowledge, they will now have to recognize that the funds for their research will probably be given with a close eye to possible applications, be they military, industrial, medical, or whatever, Doing research under these conditions cannot be said to be value-free. By accepting funds Erom certain sources-and agreeing to make their results available to those hnding them-scientists are participaing in social processes by whidz knwledge, and hence power, is given to certain social groups radler than others, Eor example, to industrial corporatio~ls,defense depmmenrs, or national institutes of healch. They may even have to make a difficult choice between doing their researeh under these conditions or not doing it at all. If they participate in the process as actually irrstitutiondized, they display tacit acceptance of those institutions' values. The Frankensteixl image nwer was very plmsible far the merage scientist (and rhe rare fanaticat individual is fairly easily controlled). m a t we need to worry about much mare is the power sf the institutions that increasingly direcl scientific research and it appficaitions: the reseal-ch councits, the commercial companies, the rich private foundations, the armed s e r ~ c e sand , the goverment departments, Such bodies may be made up of reasanably well meaning indiGduals, each of them earning their living and doing their duty as they conceive of it, yet the irrstitutions can act like corporate Frankexrsteins, pursuing power or profit regardless of social consequences, The fear is that deeper scientific knowledge will tend to put more power into the hands of those who are already powerful and who may well misuse it. Governments, the military, and indtxstrial corpomions may acquire even greater capacity to affect (for better or for worse) our w w of life, our hod, our health, and the en~ranment, Finally, let us consider again the first element in the conventional picture of the value-neutrality of science: t h t sBence can only deal with objective facts, not values. A sharp distinction.between facts and values has been commonplace in twentieth-eentlxry thought, not just in the philosophies of positivism and exlstentiatism, which have dranatized it most, but as a background assumption that conditions much everyday thinking. This division raises a deep ghilasophicaX issue-and a highly contravel.sial one-that we have already touched on in 12.2. The widespread assumption that all moral (and political) values are subjective should certainly not be allowed to pass without question. Such a view represents a major claim in the theory of meaning, knowledge, and

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metaphysics-that an unbridgeable chasm lies between the standards governing scientific claims and those governing moral claims, Should our values be isolated .from scientific knowledge? Cannot values be studied scientificaHy?Are there no true beliefs abottt values? Much evil stems from irrational fears that scientific knowledge might help dispel, In practice, scientific knowledge has tended to refine our moral sensibilities, By better understanding human nature, by studying real human differences and common shared evolution, by examining the values expressed in different cultures, false beliefs on which intolerance arld hatred are often based can be dispelled. The critical thinking of science can sweep away the rationdizatio~lsused to jtlstiv slavery, racism, and gender bias, for example, by showing beliefs in inferiority of intelligence to be false, In support of environmental conservation-in addition to the pragnlarc cansequences-respect for life in general is enhanced by understanding the common evolutionary origin of hurnan life with the rest o f l i ~ n gnature. We shall not try to settle here the debates abaut the objectivity of values that have been goirlg on at least since the time of Socrates. But it is worth noting that the thesis of a unique abjectivity of science might be attacked in two different ways, It may be suggested that science itself does nett realty have the kind of o b j e a i ~ commonly q agributed to it, or it might be claimed that discussion ofmlrxes can in principle be as objeetive as scierltifrc discollrse is commonly thought to be, An example of the latter kind of argument can be bund in the work of Jurgen Habermas, who questioned what he called ""scientismF"the positiGst thesis that our very standard of what is to count as knowledge should be deGzled in terms of the naturd sciences. He recommended ""rfiection" on the ends m q consider af our actions, and in particular on the qplications that we r making of scientific howledge. His hope seems to be that if the conditions of communicatian of howledge, opinion, and argLlment are ideal, then the discussion af values can approach the standard of rationality commonly recognized in the sciences, We will next look at a proposed w w of settling value questions rationdly: cost-benefit analysis.

12.4 Numerate and Ecolate Thinking X n addition ta changing the way peagle live by helping create new tech-

nologies, science has affected how people think, how they make decisions, and how social policy is made. The kind of economic cost-benefit analysis that is commonly applied today by government agencies in policy decisions evolved from attempts to apply scientific reason to social policy. lererny Bentham (1'148-18321, a British witer and legal reformer, promoted what came to be called a utilitarian view of what determines

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right decisions, He proposed a principle of utility that bids us "approve or disapprove every action accorcfing to the tendency which it appears to have ta increase ar diminish the happiness of whoever's interest is in question" "962,2). His idea was that a course of action is right if it leads to the ""grearest happiness far the greatea numberr'(142). Bentham viewed people as motivated by the ""springs af human action'? pursuit of pleasure and avoidance of pain (1).The benwolent legislator should farmulate policy with the aim of m;txlmizing the general welfare as a sum af the interests sf the indiMduals in the community* fn contemporary decision theory, a "'rational'kehoice is commonly taken to be that which maximizes the agent's utitity, given her preferences and beliefs, or in the case sf social policy decisions, the course of action that mairnizes the utility far society, A rational policy gelds patential benefits to society that outweigh the potential. costs, If there is risk involved, if the good or bad consequences are estimated to occur with various probabilities, then such factors are also taken into account, The principle of maimizing utility bids us choose that course of action wilh the greatest utilily, where utility is calculated as the sum sf the products ofthe probabilities and assigned quantitative values of its cansequences, In this approach ta making decisions, science is supposed to csntribute information concerning the eEects sf alternative courses of action along with their prob&itities, Once quantitative values are placed on the various consequences, the calculation can be automatically made, yielding a "rational" decision. The procedure is: 1. Identify a problem and Eormulate goats. 2. Specify a set of dternaitive courses of action, 3, Assign probabilities (risk factors) ta the outcomes, 4, Assign values (numerical measures sf utility) to each outcome in a consistent, systematic way.

5.Calculate the utility of each course of actian: the net cast-benefit as the sum ofthe products of probabilities and values of the outcomes, G. Choose the course sf acrian with the greatest utility

This procedtxre for making a rational choice is illustrated by the foXlawing very simple example. Sltppose the problerrl is whether or not to enter a contest where you can win a million dollar prize. TE the entry

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form tells you there are ten million expected entries and each entry is assumed to have an equal chance ofwinning, the probabili~of your entry Mrinning is axle in ten million. If the cast af entering is taken to be simply the poslage, say S.33, then the expected net utility on entering the contest is the sum: 1 ten million& times one million dollars minus $33, or $.l0 - $ 3 3 = $--23, an expected net loss. Tf your goal is to maximize yollr expected gain, it is not a rational bet, This does not take into account the value of any pleasum in venmring to win or the cost of time taken to enter, 'Fhe cdeulation is much more difticult for decisions where the probabilities are not accurately known and the costs and benefits are not easily quantified. For example, shoutd you have a flu shot?A ratisnal choice depends on such factors as your age, your health circumstances, and the estimated threat, A rational social goticy of flu vaccination depends on the overall costs and benefits for society. Such a ""scientific" approach ta making decisions has a number sf rational virtues, It makes us more aware of the value judgments implicit in the choices; it encourages us to consider a variety of atrernatives and their consequences; and finally it takes risks into cansideration in etear; quantitative terms, The rrational decision advocate asks us to be numerate; Don't ask simply whell-ler something is safe; ask huzu safe. Do the probable benefits outweigh the probable costs? Qnce we raise these questions, the Delaney herzdment to the Ptlre Food and Drug Act appears inrational--'%cientifically indefensible,'"^ Hardin (1985, 42) remarked, since it requires a total ban on any additive ta human food that is s h o w to cause cancer in any fraction of ~ n rodent y at any concentratisn, W always face risks, so we shauld try to make the best trade-offs. The ""objective"risk depends s n the probability and selrerity af the consequences, Thtls, the raional fear of fly;ixtg should generally be less than the fear of driving on the highway. By 1950, the risk of death Rom smallpox in the United States was less than that .From the vaccination against it, so it was no longer "'ralional"to get vaccinaed. The institutionalizatiorz of science has encouraged incorporation of risk-cost-bene-liranalysis into policy making. Such analyses are requil-ed by Eaw in the regulation of risks by governmental agencies such as the EPA and are commonty used today to evaluate allernative medical procedures. Risk-cast-benefit analysis has also been used by the courts to adjudicate government regulation. In 1989, the Environmental Protectisn Agency banned the use of asbesms irr various products, such as piping and roofing. A federal court struck dawn the ban, arguing that the ban would cost millions while saving less than an average of one life per year. Judge Stephen Breyer noted that toathpicks, which cause about

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one death a year due to accidental swaHo~ng,pose a greater risk than the asbestos products in question. The ""objectiverationality" of cast-benefit analysis does not appeal to eveE-yone, Norman Cousins [19"7) expressed the rewlsion felt by some lizernry humanists: "'The world will end neither vvith a bang nor a whimper [as in T.S. Eliot's poem "The Hollow Men"Put with strident cries af "cost-benefit ratio' by little men with no poetry in their souls, Their measuring sticks will have been meaningless because they are not big enough to be applied to the things that really counr'"19"T, 8). Biologist Lewis Thomas (1973) voices a more moderate but still concerned reaction to the increasi~lguse of cost-benefit calculations in environmental policy, notirzg that "it goes somehow agairzst the grain ta learn that costbenefit analyses can be done neatly on takes, meadows, nesting gannets, even whole oceans, It is hard enough to confront the environmental options ahead, and the hard choices, but even harder when the price tags " (19n 121). 3, are so ~ s i b l e " Serious qtxestions can be posed about how cast-benefit studies are made, what they really tell us, and what their proper role in decision making is, m a t range of consequences needs to be considered, and how far into the future? How do we make allawance for future values? Do we have the right to impose our value judgments on future generations? There are problems with the very idea af quantiQing certain values, Eor example, in putting a price on human life, or tryirlg to assess the worth of preventing a species from going extinct, W: have intuitionsan which philosopher Tmmanuel Kant constructed his ethics-that moral human agents have a "dignity beyond price": In the realm of ends everything has either a price or a dignidy. matever has a price can be replaced by something else as its equivalent; an the ather hand, whatever is above all price, and therefore admits sf no equivalent, has a dignity. That which is reZated ta general human inclination and needs has a market price. . . . But that which constitutes the condition under which done something can be an end in itself does not have mere relative worth, i.e., a price, but an intrinsic worth, i.e., dignity, (1959,5345352

Hains Tonas (1984) expresses Kant" ~ e when w he insists that " ~ n l yawe af the sacred with. its unqualified vetoF"(1984, 23) goes beyond the calculations of militarian ethics to urrcanditional caegoricat judgments of what is right and wrong, VVe often have to make decisions in situations of uncertainty in which no reliable way can be found to assess the probabilities of same of the consequences because of unpredictable factors that may be involved,

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Science and Values

including human error and malice. This type of situation [for example, over the safe~yof nuclear power or genetic engineering) will recur again and again. as science and technology proceed, The powers that bewhether government, ixldtlstvf or the scientisrs themselves-may hawe an irlterest in using a new technolom, and though they will tyyically try to reassure the public by saying that in their expert opinion the risk are very small, it is unlikely that they can demonstrate that there is no chmce of danger at all. If there is a small risk of some utterly horrific disaster, who is to decide whether such a risk is acceptable? fn quantifyrng values, the hope is that they can be cashed out arithmetically in some common currency but wllo is to assign those numbers, and what if people disagwe about them? A risk-cost-benefit analysis cannot settle such questions without controversy. They are necessarily a malter of judgment, arld dit-ferent people will often make very different judgments. So either a solution is imposed by h o s e how have the power to do so, or the issue becomes ai matter of politics. Questions of justice may arise concerning the distribution of casts and benefits. A strong ethical argument can be made for saying that it is those who actually bear the risks-those adversely affected if something should go wrong-who should decide whether the risks are worth taking, (This is part of the ethics of informed consent in medical testing.) W e n the public at large is affected, the issue has to be political; it cannot be solved simply by a mathematical caIculation. Cost-benefit analyses are only decisive when we krsw the risks and can reach consensus on the values, Nevertheless, it seems eminently-rational when making policy decisions to ask, Whal are the consequences and how do we evaluate them? The ecologist Garrett Hardin (1985) has suggested that in making policy decisions we need both the "numeracy'" of economic benefit analysis and "ecolaqp"which looks at the big picture and takes a long-range view of the consequences, recognizing human fallibility and the limitations of our knowledge.

12.5 Is Science Objective? Let us now look at some arguments wairrst science havirlg the kind of otrjectivity that rnoa people think it has. Objectivity has traditionally been considered a central Grtue of science, After all, science is supposed to be public knowledge, Its findings are restable by any qualified observer. But as W h e seen in the m a y case studies, scientists exhibit a varieQ of personal motivatisns. Haw then can science claim to pursue knowledge wx"thout personal bias"Ecience has nor progressed 'oy prohibiting scientists Rom having an emotional interest in lheir work. The methodoloa of science corrects for personal bias by upholding rigorous

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standards for accepting research findings and hvpotheses, We should distinguish the various values that drive scientists iml their research from values expressed Mrithin the scientific community in the process of accepting or E-ejecting experimental findings and theoretical claims, A scientist might strongly support a hypothesis for a variev of reasons, for example, because it seems intuitively right to him or even just because it makes him feel good, However, when he proposes a hypothesis to the scientific community, he must give colwincing evidence that is relevant to its truth, But some critics have questioned the puqorted objectiGty of science on a deeper level, They see science as just one idealow arnorlg many Paul Feyerabend 11978) has adopkd a radically relativist position, according to which science is one ""lradition'kmong many others, such as ancient or primitive worldviews and various religious or political belief systems. His crucial ctaim is that these various "traditions" cannor:be rationally compared for truth, since all such judgments about truth or rationality can only be made from within one tradition. Along with this relativism concerning truth, Feyerabend recommends '"political relativism," namely, a "free s a c i e ~ in " which all traditions are given equal rights and equal access to educaion axld other positions of powr, He sees this as irlvolvirlg a strict separation bemeen science and state, like that presently acknowledged between relgion and state in most Western democracies. f-fegrants that early modern science "was an instrument of liberation m d enlightenment," but he believes that science today '"inhibits .freedom of thought" 0C19"T5 157-158). , Part of his concern is the particular character of contemporary scientific research: "Most scientists today are devoid of ideas, full of fear, intent on producing some paltry results that they can. add to the flood of inane papers that now canstitutes 'scientific progress2n many areas" "(165). This splendidly provocative challenge to the conventionai wisdom about the supreme rationality of scientific method deserves a more carefttl answer than we have space ta give here, but consider the folowing problem with his position. If Feyerabend is entilled to distinguish between camparisons of rival theories within a tradition and comparisons between traditions themselves, claiming that no rational comparison of traditions is possible, he had better articulate criteria of iderrtity far these so-called traditions, He has to be able to tell tits when a change in concepts or beliefs is merely a change within a tradition and when it constitutes a change .from one tradition to another. Which description, far example, would he apply to the Copernican revolution in astronomy, ta the advent of DaMnian theoxly or of relatirl-ity physics, or to the difference between orgarlic and psychodynamic accounts of mental illness?Without p r a ~ d i n ga principled way to answer such questions, Fey-

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embendssclaim that judgments of rationality apply only within traditions has no clear content. Those who, like Feyerabend, reject the very concept ofabjective truth can be accused of committing the slippery slope falfacy From the fact that no one, scientist or othemise, can be completely objective in the sense of achieving theory-free observation ar value-free interpretation, it does not Eollow thal the concept of objective truth is empty Some of those who criticize science as biased-for example, as being in favor of patriarchal values-may hope to achieve a truly objective science by rrlaking us consciaus of tacit value assl~xrlpriorlsthat distort scientific judgments, But if a proper science, free &orn prejudices and distorting values, can be conceived, we must first have some basic notiorz ofobject i ~ t that y is ~ o l a t e dby the bias s r distortion, Herbert Marcuse, whose thought became briefly fashionable in radical movements of the 1 9 6 0 ~rnade ~ an onsiaught on scientific and technical rationality and its social consequences that is perhaps even mare radical than that of ffqeralrend, He claimed that the way in which ""sientific-technical rationalilg and manipulation are welded together into new forms aE social control" i s not just the result af a specific social application of science but was already "inherent in pure science" "11964, 146). We added that "'dte science of nature develops under the technological a prdonl' which projects nature as potential instrumentality; stuff of control and organizarion" "(15 and that ""sience, by virt_~&e of is own meehod and concepts, has projected and promoted a universe in which the domination af nature has remained linked to the domination sf man" "1166). Yet he went on to say that science could somehow become radically different: "Its hypotheses, wilhortt losing their rational character, would develop in an essentially different experimental context (that of a pacified world); consequently, science would arrive at essentially different concepts of nature and establish essentially different factsr' (IC;S-l651),

Marcuse's Gsion of an alternative form of science, which w o ~ ~establd lish different concepts and facts Efom those presently acknowledged, also seems very schematic and philosophically undefended., He awes us an account of what he sees as definitive of science in whatever forms it may take and of which features of present-day science he thirlks could be altered, and haw It is nst clear (from his jargon-inksted prase) that he does more than gesturc: at this, C_)f caurse, research might be pursued in some areas rather tharz others-for reasons of finance, social need, military pressure, ethical inhibitions, ar scientific fashion. But Marcuse's thesis appears to be that even an a given topic, an alternative way of doing science would yield different iheories about the nature of the world, Presumably he does nst mean simply that there can be complementary

Scl'et2ceand Val~$c?s1 26 1

theories of the same phenomenon (such as wave or particle theories of light). Such differences for him would seem to fall u\iithin rile "'domineering'hay of doing science, to which he wants to suggest a radical alternatiw. But unless he can characterize this alternatiw in clearer terms than abstractions like "being," "'fogos," and "erss," we may wonder whether he has any significant alternative to offer. These radical views are worth memionirlg both because they point out probterns about the way science is currently being applied and because they chdienge common philssophical assumptions about the nature of science and of knowledge generally But it is one thing to ask prrzvocative questions and another thing to give good answers to them, If both the wisdom of pmsent applications of science and the vatidity of scientific method as the way to find truths about the natural world are questioned, how are these two bnds of criticism of science connected? It is unclear whether either Feyerabend or Marcuse has a coherent position to defend.

12.6 Values Guiding Science In 12.3 we questioned the canventional vvisdom that science is valueneutral. Even if a scientisr is motivzlted solely to altain howledge for its awn sake, same value judgments have to be made simply ta engage in research. When research programs are chosen, the selection reflects a decision about what is worth knovving and thus r m d s implicit values, Scientists dsn't ccalleet just any facts at random. The average weight af the grains of s m d on a beach or the size of the sandbugs might be estimated, but unless such facts are thought to be relevant to testing some wider theory sf geology ar biolompwhy should anyone want to bother wasting his time making such intrinsically boring measuremenrs? Even on topics where theoretical or practical interest is more plausible, like the patterns sf clouds s r the positions af stars in the sky or the bane structure of fossil fish, it is reasonable to ask how much time and effort is worth spending on such matters. W y should anyone want to know something? For what reasons, to what ends, is a particular reseazh pmject undertaken? These questions clearly involve values. Nobody expends time, effofl, or resources withaut f-ta.cl-ingsome goal that is seen as valuable, All intentional human aetion-scientific activity included-involves goals or desires of some sort. So why should anyone want to learn about the inner workings of nature? People are sometimes curious about things for no apparent reasan. Children twicaXly asks tots of "Why?'>qlxestions, and adults too may worlder why the moon goes through pfrases, why the tide returns twice a day, s r why a tortoiseshell cat can have kittens af quite different calors.

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If someone is ""just curious," the motivation for waxzting that knowledge is simply to saris@ a harmless human whim But scientific research is mstivated by more than idle, uninformed curiosity; though it can start from that, Biscaveries are sought for their theoretical interest or their practical applications-or both. Mie can thus distinguislr three basic reasons for a scientist wanting to know something: I. Simple curiosity, which for no further reason may set offixrquiv

2.Theoretical lintel-est?based on relevance of a problem to understanding and explaining other phenomena 3, Potential usefi~lngss.for a e h i e ~ n some g practical human purpose

These are the obc.iarrs Ends of rewons scientists propose in favor of pursuing a program. But there may also be reasons against proceeding with certain search, About m y scientific inwesrigation we can also ask: M a t arc the costs of findirlg out? Various kilzds of cost may be involwd in gaining an itern of knowledge, not d l of them monetary: 1.Any scientific inquiry however humble, takes someone's time and effort, Even the nineteenth-century rural dean, batanizing s n weekdays, can reasonably have been asked why he devoted himself to his paslime rather than ministering to the needs of his parishioners. Charles Darwin's family though secure in his private income, may well have wandered why he had to devote quite so much effort to his fossils and papers instead of spending more time with them (see 6.1 and 8.1).

2. Whenever research r e q u i ~ more s than trivial resources, questions can obviously be asked about whether they might not be better used elsewhere, whether within ar outside science. Lavoisier was not given the directomhip of the nationat arsenal in eighteenth-century France just to indulge his scientific curiosity (though he took full advanage of . French government obGously the anpartunities theretoy p r o ~ d e d )The expected him to be useful for military purposes (see 8.11, The German bankers and irldustridists who gave money ro establish the h i s e r Wilhelm Geselfschafi in in9J 1 made a judgment that this investment would grove useful ta them and ta Germany (see '7.2). Much modern research demands wry considerable resources of labor, technology, energy, and therefore money. We are now at the stage where it is ai matter sf national and international cantrwersy whether we should dwate large resources to push back the frontiers of particle physics by building yet more powerful accelerators.

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3. Sometimes there are human costs to the process of scientific research itself. Gathering data in dangerous places or doing experirnerrts with radiation, paisans, Iriruses, or microbes exposes scientific investigators to obvious risks, There may also be risks to the wider public, for example, if some pest or poison or infection we= to escape irtto the environment, A major problem about rationally evaluating such risks is that they often cannot be ~alisticdlyestimated in advance of the resuIts of the research itself, Consider, for example, the contraversies ir-r the 1970s about the new techniques of genetic engineering, which we considered in 10.2. 4, The animal rights movement has f o ~ e r e d constraints on the use of animals in biomedical research. Extremists have called .for ending all use of animals in scientific research, Most projects now have strict guidelines for caring for anirnals and rninirrlizing their suffering. Technology; such as computer mode'ling, often proGdes alternatives to the use of animals, but in some cases, such as developing vaccines, animal testing is required by government regulations. People have become particularly sensitive to the use of monkeys in research as they learn more of their sixslllari~to hrlman beings, NlH began breeding chimpanzees in 1986 for use in stuctyirrg AIDS, but it m s discovered that chimpanzees infected with HXV rarely develop the symptoms of AIDS. When an overpopulation of chimpanzees for laborratally use developed, euthanasia-which would probably in earlier times have been used without being questioned-was rejected as unethical. Instead, NIH developed a "retirement pmgram'2a suppart and shelter one thousand chimpanzees for the rest of their lives. Scientists generally agree that unnecessary pain sboutd be avoided, but they argue that we should weigh the cost of animal suffering a.gainst the benefirs for sllvirlg human lives, Scientists today are increasingly mart: of the need ta foster a positive image of treating animals with respect as ""partners in research'" in order ta maintain public support.

5. Sometimes research may ~ o t a t basic e ethical principles. Experiments on people can be conceived whose results might be scientificaHy irlteresting but that would be totally unelhical to perliorm. For sample, d e p r i ~ n gchildren of various features of normal upbringing and social stimul~ionmight help to discover ta what degree human behaviol: is inborn, genetically deermirled as opposed to cufturally variable. Bur any such deliberate deprivation of children is marally ruled out, W may think that only Nazi doctors would do such things, but the recent revelations of experiments on the erfects of radiation performed on members ofthe American public Mritha~tconsent through the 1940s

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and 1950s shotxld make us aware of the constant temptation to break the bounds of ethics in the name of science. In other cases, there may be disagreement, both among scientists and the general public, about whether the intrinsic interest and possible benefits of the scientific research should be alowed to override ethical principles in particular cases, Examples might be research on human embryos, the issues of fairness to human patients involved in clinical trials of new drugs or medical procedures, issues of deceiving subjects of ~ Golatisns of privacy of personal experiments in social p s y c h o l o ~and data abotxt individuals, Even when questions about the immediate costs and benefits and morality af a research project are answered, hrther worries may arise about how the knowledge will be used. The proposed process of research may be acceptable, but a diEfererlt set of considerations may be applied to the consequences of its success, m a r are the likely uses and misuses of new knowledge? 1. In same cases, the intended uses may be beneficial, but there may be u n i ~ e n d e ddisadvantages as wdl. A new dmg may be designed to cure or alleviate cemin diseases, b-crrthings currid go wrong in many ways. It may have unpleasant side effects, which cannot &ways be foreseen. If a patent on a drug is about to expire, it may be in the campany's financial interest to produce and patent a new wrsion, regadless of whether the modification is of any medical benefit. The Mridespxl-eaid use of indi~dtxaHyeffective medicines can have demographic effects beyund anysne's expeaation. Should the fact that reducirlg infant mortality may contribute to overpopulation, with consequent stawatian, lead us ta restrict efforts to save the babies?

2.A scientist may want to know something, bath .for its own intrinsic interest and for the possibitities of beneficial applications, and yet the institutiond or social situation may be such that she may have serious worries about likely misuse of the new knowledge, W can expect that government or industry will use new dis~overiesand inventions for their awn purposes, with which rhe individtzai scientist may weH disagree*(Physicists like Szilard first struggled to bring the possibility of an atomic bomb ta the attention of the U.S. authorities, only to find a few years later that they could not influence the mililary use of the new weapon-see 10.1).There may sometimes be good reason to predict that if a certain new techniqtxe is made plxblicly available in a society; it will fue used in w w about which one might have serious mord qualms. An addictive tranquitizer that is of benefit in managing very disturbed

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individuals may be indiscriminately prescribed by overburclened doctors to speed the exit of ul-rhappy patients horn their offices. Ttze availability of procedures to determine the sex of fetuses could lead to widespread abortion of females in countries where boys are preferred. 3. Even if W do not have speci$c misuses ir-rmind, there may be social choices, which on the whale we might pxl-efer not to have to .face, that: colxld be forced on US simply by the further advance of scientific undersanding, For example, however scientifically interesting the mechanisms of human genetics may be, do we redly want to be given the opporanit!, oT, and hence the respansibifi~Tor, deciding the genHic characteristics of our offspring?Agairr, would we welcome the technical possibility .for employers and insurance companies to classiQ people according to their pnetically based tendencies, as s h o w by a prirltorlt of their par~icularset of genes? It will be said that this is a matCer for ""sciety" to decide. in socieq? Do we want the necessity for such decisions to be thrust upon US? DOwe want our political parties and legislatures to be bogged down with having to hame complex policies and laws for a host of such possibilities, when there are many other urgent matters for decision and social action?

So the process of scientific research cannot be freed of value considerations. The general reason is that, like any other human acti~ty,scientific research irlvolves choices of how to spend time, energy, and resources. The special reasons are peculiar to the high casts, institutional control, and social applicability of scientific r e s e a ~ hthat have arisen in the late ~ e n t i e t hcentury and that promise to accelerate in the hture, In the era of big science, with systems of appointment, promotion, and rewards for scientists increasingly determined by external economic and political forces, it is doubtful that science is driven primarily by the simple quest far truth about nature far its own sake, For all these reasons, there is today a pressing need for public as well as professionat philosophical inquiry into the scientific enterprise, for discussion of the means and goals, casts, and risks, as well as the benefits of scientific knowledge, Universal agreement will likely never be achiewd on how to make wtue judgments regarding the conduct of science that would adjudicate all the conflicting interests typically involved. These questions can only serve as a guide to considerations that usually need to be taken into account ir-r policy decisions about scientific and technoIogicail developments. Surely it would he desirable, taking a cue from a centraf Gatte in the scientific tradition itself, if everyone aEected by such decisions-the general putulie as well as scientiss, teclrnologists, industrialists, government officials, paliticians-were to make

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their value assumptions explicit so that these could be challenged and debated in an open political process,

Suggestions for Further Reading Antony L., and C, byitt, eds, 1993. A Mind ofOne"s1.1-1n:Feminist Essays ~n Reason and Objecdivip, Bf oar, D. 1976, Knowledge and Social Imagerjl. Branowski, J, 2965. Science and Human Values, Feyerabend, F": K. 19"1. Sdezzce in a Frge Socieq. Habemas, J , 19'7l. Krzawledge and Human I~zteresfi, Hardin, 6.1985. Fil8e:ersAgainst. Folly, Lehrer, K., ed. 1987, Science and Ethics. Lawance, W. W. 2976, OfAcceptable Risk: Science and tlze Determination of Safe@. Wilson, E. Q, 2998, Gonsilience: The U n i q cfKnowledge. Woolgar, S. 1988. Knowledge and Refiexiviy: New Frontiers the Sociolegy of Kr~otuleckge,

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Index

hcademie des Sciences, 147 Acquired Emrnune Deficiency Syndrome (A41DSf129-134 hdams, ilenl~y;19,6I Adler, Alfred, 228 Advertising, 1 Agrieuttural science Fritz IIaber and, 140 George Washington Caxver and, 137-1 40 Green Revolution and, 211i-218 14auisPastcur and, 118-1 21 Rachet Carsun and, 212-213 Trofim X'ysenko and, 1 74-1 78 AIDS (Acquired lmxnune Ileficiency Syndrome), t 29-134 hlcllemy, 42 Algebra, 62 AEmagesf fPtolemy),52 Alphabel, phonetic, 6 Americas, 7 Axz A~lnfovrzicnlneaf.ise on Pke Movement of f l ~Heart e and Blood (Williarn IIaweyl, 115 0 9 1 A~taforny (Elerophitus),X 15 Anmien der Plzysik (Albert Einstein), l

58 " h a 0,"22Z2,23Gi

h n e , Queen, 101 Anti-Semitism Mbert iiinstein and, 60, 166, 168 Edward Teller and, 195 Fri tz klaber and, 142 in Germmy during 192rls, 166-167 Max Planck and, 166-1 67 Phillip f,enard and, 167-168 Wcrner Heisenberg and, 176 Anti-utopias, 30,244. See also Utopians Aposhian, I l, Vdsken, 210 Appleyard, Dryan, 246 Applied science, See also Technotoa beha~oralsdences and, 219-22 1

B. B Skinner and, 233-2120 Count XZuxnford and, 136- t 37 definiritsn sl; 2 tluman beings and, 21 9-241 f,ouis Pasteur an, 1X8 profits from, 143, 158 public hedilrb and, 1l5 reseacb funding and, 42-43,251 scientific motivation and, 46 Simund Freud and, 221-233 social influence csn, 35,244 Arabs, See Islam kcbimedes discovery reactions of, 45 influence of, 6,51--52 s n prclgress, 14 Aristarchus of Samos, 85 Arislatle di\rision of lnotions by, 26 Gden and, 117 C2aliles and, 144, 146 ideaf of knowiedge and, 42 rise of modern science and, 6 William I Idrvey and, 117 Amaid, Mar thew, 248 ktists knowicdgc presented t,y; 248 suereotpes of, 31-32 Tlze Assnulr on l"rutlk (Masssn),23l Astrotog johmnes Kepler and, 53 scientific camrnunities and, 40 scientific vdidity of, 4,s secret societies and, 42 Astronomy discoveries in, 52-6O,9&99 Galileo and, 145-146 Atomic bomb. See Nuclear weapons Atomism, theory sf, 27 Auden, FV. IT,, 232 AverrhoPs, ? Avicenna, '7"

280 I Index Bacon, Francis B, E Skinner and, 233 Cl~arlesI l a r ~ nand, 92 Frankenslel'n and, 20-21 institutiondizatirm sf science and, 9 reactions against, 25 s n science and human progress, 14-1 8, 23,214,242 on scientificmotivation, 4142,44,54, X 13 supporters csf, 34 view toward science and, 242 Baltimore, flavid, 10G108, 129, 208 Beadle, George, 45 Beaverbrook, Lord Williarn, 111 Uecyuerel, f fenri, 70 Behavioral sciences, 219-24]. See also Psychnlogy Uellamy, David, 21 1 Bell, Jocefyn,98-99 Uellsc, I l i l l ~ r e32-33 , Bentham, Jeremy, 219,254 Bergmann, Ingrid, 224 Uerg, Paul, 21111 Bernal, J, I],, 8 Uernstein, Jererny,97 BerthoXlet, Claudc: I,ouis, 135 Belhe, I-Ians, 197 Bqond Free&rn and Dignita, (%inner), 2311 Bioengineering, 47 Bicjgen, 158 I31acket-t,M. S., 78 Black, loseph, f 34, 135 Ulake, Wifliam, 24225,246 I31ood, eiircubation of, 1 15-1 18 Bloom, IIart~ld,225 Uudian, l>aGd, 124 Bohr, Nids Nbert Einstein and, 60 atomic studies of, t 85, t 88-1 91 Edward Teller and, 195 Wemer I feisenberg and, 170 Bonaparte, Rincess Maric, 227,228,231 Uundi, 1 lermann, 57 Bonncr, Iilena, 181 Bonner, Jarnes, 45 Uurcherds, Kichard, 64 Boring, Edwin, 220 Bosch, Cart, 140 Boultan, Matt.ilcw, 135 Boyer, FXerberl, 199-200,203 Uuyle, Kohert, f 17 Bragg, Sir l,amence, 95 Br&e, Tycha, 53,55 B m v New ~ MIi)rld (Ald~us f fuxley], 30 Breuer, losef, 222 Ureyer, Stepben, 256

Broad, wJ.,X04 Brt~die,Maurice, 123, 124 Branowski;,Jacob, 31 Burr, Sir CyriX, 161-105, 16'1 Bush, C;etsrge, 198 13ymcs,farnes E, 187 Cabanis, Pierre, 29 Cafvin, lahn, 117 Cancer research, 129-1 :30$150-15ZI 199 Capitalism, 7,8,152 Carnol, Sadi, 136 Carson, KachcI, 212-213 Cawer, George Washington, 137-140 Carver; Moses, 137 Cavalicri, I,, E, 204 Celcbdty*Spe Fame C h a d ~ e kSir , lames, 185 Chain, Ernsl, X 10-1 12,155-X58 Chang, S., 204 Charcot, Jean, 222 Chargaff, Erwin, 9'1 Charles It, King, 9 Chemical rvarfare, 143 Chemie C;runenthd, 156-158 Chewelf,I,ord) 189, 196 Chesterton, G. K., 226 Chemerikov, S, S., 173, 174,178 China dissenting scientists in, 182 t~listoyof technolow and, 5 Chirac, President, X30 Chcsmsky, Nsam, 239 Christianirq: See also Religion beliefs about progress in, f 6,20, 34 rise af modern science and, &'?",7-8 scienlisls and, 53 vision sf prt~gressin, 14 Churchilf,Winston S,, 189-1 91,230 Clifford, W. K., 14 Clinfun, Bill, 144 The Chirzg Circle:NaPlrra Mart arzd Techvzolagy (Harry Commoner), 214 The Code of Codes (B. f , Kevles and I,, PXood), 209 Cohen, 12obert,33 Cohen, Sttmlcy, 199-200,203-265 Cutd fusion, 160-l64 Cotd War, 18 Cuturnbus, Cbristopher, 7 Commoner, Lfarry, 213-218 Communism Chinese scientists and, 182 1. f'lc~bertOppenheimer and, 191-192, 191-192 Soviet scientists and, 163-171

Curnpetitian for research funding, 143, 150, 152 bemcen scientists, 8&90 Curnte, Auguste, 29 Crsntrol,grcrups, 4 Copernicus, Nicolaus astrunttmicat discoveries csf, 52,55,85, 259 Francis Bacon and, 15 Gdilea and, 144,146 Johannes Keptcr and, 52 reactions against, 24 rise of modern science and, 56,841 I6 Sigmuad Freud and, 232 Crsrpurations science funding and, 12,252-253 scientific rnorivakion and, 113 Crssimo de Medici (lluke of 'ruscany), 145-146 Crsst-benefit analysis, 254-258 Cousins, Norman, 257 T;he Craft ofExpel-E'unenMIP!zysl'cs :S M. S. Wlackett), 78 Creighton, Harriet, 74 Crews, Frederiek, 229 Crick, F7rancis,94,911-137,199 Crabvtlrer, I. G., 41,45 cttmmings, 6, e,, 25-26 CLIT~G, Eve, 4 53 Curie, Madarne Marie scientific carccr of, 69-72 scientific rnorivatian oE 152-153,245 Curie, Pierre, 70-71, f 52-1 53 C~lriosityand scientific motivation, 40-4 1, 45-48,4"377,246,262 Curtiss, ftoy; 111,204 Cyril Bmrt, Psjfc!~okogist (L. S , FXearnshavv), 103 Dsrrwin, Charles, See aim Evolutionary thcury 13, E Skinner and, 235 class position on, 1I ecolog)r and, 2l l family of, 262 Francis Galton and, 101 Gregor lohann Mendet and, 67 hereditary lheory of, 168,259 influence on psycholog-)j.and, 219-228 notoriety of*38 prioriq in discovery and, 87,91-93 psychotogy and, 220 resexch funding of, 148-150 Sigmund Freud and, 223,232,233 Dsrrwin, Erasmus, 148 Darruinism (Alfred fZttsselI Wdlace), 93

Davies, criticisms of science by, xiv on roie of obsewatio~tin science, 5 Davy, Sir klumphrey, 137 Uwkins, Kichard, 248 Ilecisian theory, 255-256 Uefoe, IJanid, 243 Ilelbruck, Max, 82 Democracy applied science and, 36,244 role of scientific debate in, 131-132 scientific cornrnuniry as model for, 33, 244 scienlific molivalion and, 42 separation beween science and state in, 259 Democri [us, 27 Uescartes, Rend criticism of philosophy by,15 integration csf science, velocity and, 8 rise of modern science and, 29 Descent @!Man (Darwin),220 Dentsche Ph-ysik f Phillip f ,enxd), 168 d'FXotback, Baron, 29 UingdI, Xohn, 106 Iliscoveries announccmenls of, 160-161 prioriq in, 84-87,;t62,168,200 reactions to, 45 Donne, John contrasted with Bacon, 16 criticisms of science by, 23-24 Usstcjyevsky, I'yodor, 30 The Donblie Helix ((]lamesWafsonf,94,96 Dryden, John, 24 Uubos, Re&, 204 Duchesne, Ernest, 83 Uuesberg, Peter, 131 Ilyxlamite, 153 Dyscopias. See Anti-utopias Earttlqt~akes,3 Easfea, Brian, 22 Ecolacy, 254 Ecology; See Envirc~nmenualism Tlze Edge ofthe Sea (flacbelCason), 212 Edisan, Thornas h,,l l , 33,113,139 Education, 237 Ehriich, Annc, 216 Ehrtich, Paul, 21S218 Einstein, AIhert, 57-60 anti-Semitism and, 60, 166, 178 Babartl McCXinlack and, 17 s n competitiveness in science, 86 Ernmy Noether's dgebra m d , 62,63 s n Euclid" ggerlmetry, 51)

282 I Index experimental testing and, 66 fame and, 109-1 10 formal education of, l l Friitz;Haber and, 142 lehannes Stark and, 169 on Madame Gurie, 72 Max Planck and, 165-166 notoriety of, 38 Phiiipp Z~nardand, 167-168 pr;ycholoa and, 220 on rise of modern science, 5 scientific rnorivarion rtf, 43,48,49,245 ff ,S, atomic research and, 187, 194, 197 Eisenhower, Dwi@t Dmid, 194 Ekments (Euclid], 50 El~merzrsof Psyckop~i):yslcs (Fcchner],220 Eliot, T. S., 257 Enders, John, 124 Enfi@renznent Baconian Gews sf science and, 92 new physics and, 24 reactions against, 27 Environmentdilisrrt cost-benefit analysis and, 257 George Wdshington Carver and, 137-140 involvement of scientists in, 185,211-218 negative views of science and, 16-17, 18, 22 Tipidcmiologp132 ESP (extrasensoryperception), 1,4 Tithics. See Moraliiy Euclid, 6,50, 51 Evcsltttionay theory Charles 13ardn and, 87,91-93, 149,199 Ernst Chain and, 156 Gregur lohmn Mendet and, 67 EAstentidutism,30,253 Experimentlll testing, See also Research early popularity of, 9-1 0 haud in, 101-108 human subjects in, 26:3-264 intsljectctal curiosity and, 49-17 pseudescience and, 39,176 scientific reputation and, 84 scientific thearies and, 3-4 stereatxles of scientists and, 33 TixpIorers, 7, l6 T;heExpressl'sn ofrl~eEtnot-iiansin Artirnab and Man (Dawn), 220 Extrasensory perception (ESP), X, 4 T7abrizio,Girolamo, 117 Facrors offlze Mind {CyritBurl), X02 Fame and scientific motivation, 108-1 12, 121,126,130,246

&raday; Miehael electromapetic induction and, 90 on image of scicnrists, 4.4 Royal hstitute and, 137 Fechner, 'I"heodor, 220 Feminism Saeonian views of science and, 16 ~ 96 priority in d i s c o v e and, Siigmund l%eud and, 231 Fermi, Enrico hydrogen bomb protests of, 194 nuclear reaction studies of, 170,186, 181,194 Feyerallend, 13aulK., 259-260,261 Feynman, Richad, 64,247-2412 Fishcc R. A., 68 Fitzroy, Captain Robert, X48 Ffamsteed, John, 100 Fteischman, Marlin, 160-164 Ffeming, Sir Nexander fame and, 1 10-1 12 scientifk career of, 80-83 Ffiess, WilheIm, 233 Flarcy, IIoward, anribiotic studies of, 86, 110-112,155 Ford, IIenry, 139 Fossey, Dian, 211 Frmds, -r'homas, 123 Franck, fames, 188 FrnnkensreE'n,or the Modern Prounerllzeus ( M a y WoXIstonecraft Shclley), 20-22, 200,245,253 FrmMin, Benjamin foseph 13riestleyand, 80 spirit of science in Americm rwalution and, 17 Franklin, Itosalind, 94-96, 98 Fraud, scientific cold fusion claims and, 162-1 64 examples of*101-108 I,csttis Pasteur and, 120-l21 Mobcrt Gallo and, 129-1 30 William 'l". Summerlin and, 150-1 52 FrencfiAcademic, 9 French Revolution and scientists, 80, f 47

Freud, Anna, 231 Freud, Simund, 11-12, 231 R, B Skinner and, 236 human values and, 250 life and influence of, 220,221-233 Frisch, Otlo, t 70, 186 Frost, Kaberl, 96 Fuehs, k3aus, 179,194 Fuller, Buckminster, 18

1:unding Antoine-laurent 1,avoisier and, 146-1 47 campaigning for, 184 Charles Darwin and, 1148-1 50 for combating AIDS, 132 competitiveness in, 86, 143,150,152 fraud in, 186,150-152 Galileo and, 144146, 150 of high-techacllo~scienrific research, 12,4243 increasing import ance of, 47-48, 251-252,262 for medical researct~,1 14, 118, 124 scientific independence and, 140,217 for SoGet scientists, 173 Galen, 111, 115-118 Galitet), Gdilei Archirnedes and, 51 data-fudging of, 104 distinction bemeen ""primar~~.'knd 'kecondary" qudities in, 26-27 exlperirncntd testing r>f,78 inertia principal of, 54 lehannes Kepfer and, 53 notoriety of, 38 persecution of, 14.4, 146, 178 profit-taking and, 152 research funding of, 144-146,156 rise of modern science and, 6,8,26--27, 29,49,56,84 Gallo, Robert, 129-130, 132, X34 Galtr~n,ITrancis, 101 Galvani, 14uigi,45 Geison, Gerdld, 120 Genetic engineering DNA discoveriesand, 94 negative views s f science and, 22-23, 1 13,200 scientific controversies about, 199-21 1, 263 social ramifications of, 265 Wlter C;itbert and, f 513-160 Genetics Barbara McClinrock and, 74-77 discoveries in, 6G69 TroCirn Iysenko and, 1 74-1 78 Gename Corporation, 159-160,208 Geor-geWahs'ngronCarl~er:Scienrisr and Symh~l(LindaMcMurray), 139 Germmy emergence of psychology in, 220 Friitz Haber and, 140-142 industrialization of science in, 12 Kaiser Wfhelm Gesellsebaft and, 262

Nazism in, X8 professionalization of sdence in, 10 scientists and Naism in, 3635-1 73 Germ iheory of disease, 118 Gibbs, J s s i h , 11, 60-61 Gibbs, Wolcott.,61 Gifbert,Wdter, 132, 1513-160,2118,209, 210-21 5 Goethe, fohaan, 27-28 Geethe prize, 224 Good, Robert A,, 156-1 52 Gorbachev, Mikhail, 181 Gosling, Maymond, 97 Gould, Srephen fay 8 Graves, Mary, 233 Greece mcienr world view in, X4,X9-20,42,49-51 astrtslrsgicat tradition in, 53 practice of medicine in, 114, X X5 rise of modern science in, 6,7 Green revotulion, 2 16-2 1 R GRID, See AIDS (Acquired Immune Deficiency S ~ d r O m e ) Groves, Genenrf Ixstie, 192 Grunbaurn, Adolf, 230 Gutcnhcrg, lohannes, 6 I Iaber, Eritz industrialization of science and, 12 fosi* Gibbs and, 61 Max Planck and, 166-167 scientific career of, 140-142, X65 I Iabermas, jurgen, 254 Elaeckel, Ernst, R7 Hahn, Olro, 110,186 I Iddane, J. 13. S., 229 Hatley Edmund, 89,YQ I Iardin, Garrett, 215,256 Elarding, Warren G,, 72 Hare, K,, 81 I Iartley, Ilavid, 2 19 Elarvey, William, 44,115-1 18 I lawking, Stephen, 56 Elcarnsl-baw,f,. S,, 103 Heal, kinelic lfieary of, 136 I Ieisenherg,Werner, 60, f 69-1 73, 185 Elclmholrz, FXcrmann von, 35,42 HempeX, Carl, 35 ETenry*Joseph, 85,90--91 HensXcrw fohn, 14.8 I Iermaeh, Tim, 215 Elcrophilus, 1 15 Herschet, Wittiarn, 86 I Iertic, IIeiarieh, 91,167-168 Hewish, Anlany, 98

284 1 Index Hilbert, David, 62 Himmler, Heinrich, 170 Hippocrates, 114-1 15,127 Hi tchcock, Alfred, 224 Hitler, Adolph Albert Einstein and, 60 Fritz Haber and, 142 Johannes Stark and, 169 Max Planck and, 165-167 Phillip Lenard and, 168 U.S atomic research and, 195,196 USSR war production and, 179 Werner Heisenberg and, 171 HIV (Human ImmunodeficiencyVirus), 129-134 Homosexuality, 132 Hood, L, 209 Hooker, Joseph, 93 Hooke, Robert, 88-89,100 Hoover, J. Edgar, 194 Horstmann, Dorothy, 124 Hoyle, Fred, 99 Hull, David, 86 Human Genome Project, 159-160,207-211 Human ImmunodeficiencyVirus (HIV), 129-1 34 Humanism and science, 31-34,242,243 Humanistic psychology, 221 Human nature, science of, 219-241. See also Psychology Human values. See Morality Humboldt, Alexander von, 148 Hume, David, 34-35,56,219 Hussein, Saddam, 181-182 Hwdey, Aldous, 30 Huxley, Julian, 28 Hwdey, T. H., 45 Huygens, Christian, 88 Hypotheses, 2 Imanishi-Kari, Thereza, 105-108 Immunology, 123,151 Industrialization Ernst Chain and, 155-158 power technology and, 134-135 science and, 12-13,33,39,251-252 scientific motivation and, 113,140-142, 246 Influence grantsmanship and, 143 of scientists, 46-48,84, 10&105, 113-1 14,245246,251

Inquiry into the Cause and Erects of Variolae Vaccinae (Edward Jenner), 122

The Interpretation of Dreams (Freud),223

"Invisible College," 9 Iraqi nuclear weapons program, 181-182 Islam, 7 James 11, King, 108 James I, King, 16 James,William, 220 Jefferson,Thomas Edward Jenner and, 122 spirit of science in American revolution and, l 7 Jenner, Edward, 121-122,125 Jokesand Their Relation to the Unconscious (Freud),225 Joliot-Curie,FredCric, 170,186 Joliot-Curie,Irene, 170,186 Jonas, Hans, 209,246,257 Jones, Ernest, 228 Jones, Steven, 162 Journals, scientific discovery announcements in, 160-161 innovative work in, 11-12 scientific reputation and, 47 Joyce, James, 228-229 Judaism. See also Anti-Semitism Albert Einstein and, 109 early beliefs on progress in, 14 monotheism and, 7 Juenger, Friedrich, 30 Jung, Carl, 228-229 Junk science, 204 Kaiser Wilhelm Gesellschaft formation of, 140,262 industrialization of science and, 12 Max Planck and, 166,167 Karnin, Leon, 103 Kant, Imrnanuel, 257 Keats, John, 25,248 Keller, Evelyn Fox, 74,76,77 Kelves, D. J., 209 Kennedy, John E, 213 Kepler, Johannes experimental testing and, 66 Francis Bacon and, 15 Galileo and, 144 Isaac Newton and, 89,90 rise of modern science and, 6,8,56,84 scientific career of, 1l , 52-55 Kevle, Daniel, 107 Khrushchev, Nikita, 177,180 Kinsey, Nfred, 234 Klein, Felix, 62 Klein, Hilbert, 62 Koch, Robert, 119,131 Kraus, Karl, 232

kutch, Joseph m u d , 224 Kuhn, "I"homasS,, 11,79 Kt~rct~atow~ Xgor, 179 l,aEbrge, OLiver, 44 14amarck,Jean-Baplistr:de, 87, 178 l,arnarr, 1Ieddy, 11 Iamb, C:harlcs, 57 I,andsleinel; Karl, 124 l,ashley, Karl, 234 I'aue, Max von, 169 I,avoisier,Antoine-L,aurent disctrveries of, 79-80, 135 scientific career of, X4&147, 262 l,awence, E. 0,,192 I'awrence I'ivermore Ilaboratory, 197 I,eavis, E R., 244 l,eeuwenlroek, Anton van, 122 I,eggelr, lercmy, 217 l,eibniz, Gottfried, 88,90 I'cnard, Pl~ilipp,167, 167-168 I,enia, Vladimir, f 73 l,etspcrld, Ado, 214 14cwontin,Miclrard, 209 l,e?xelf,h d e r s , 863 Iin~ts,88 Uslec Juseph, 83 IJzhi, Pang, 182 I'ohbying, 184-1 85, 199-21 1 I,ocke, John, 17, 25 1'0s IIorcones, 237 Iyelt, Charles, 92, 149 lysenko, 'Trofim Denis(jGeh, 139,174-178, 180 Maei:aLane, G w , 82 Macteish, kchibald, 248 MaGcians, 42 Maksimov, N. h,,, 175 Malpighi, Marcello, 117 Mdrhus, Thsmas cvol~ltianarytheov and, 92,93,149 s n populatictn growh, 19 ManhaMan Project. See Nudcar weapons Mareuse, Herbert, 30,260,261 Marxism, 18. See also Communism Marx, ICarl, 12 Maslow, Abraham, 221 Masson, JeErey, 23'X

iMizkhemaric~lPrixtciples ofh'arum! P/zilosophy (IsaaeMewon). See Principia Mathernarics bicttogical application csf, 67 Emrny Noether and, 62 Francis Bacon and, 15

rise of modern science and, 'I scientific uses sf, 49-52 Maxwelt, fames Clerk, 1f McCarthy, loseph R., 194 McClintock, Lfarbara, 74-77 MeI'uhan, MarsfiaXI, 6 McMurray, Linda, 139 Medicine disctweries in, 8@83 Ifurnan Gensme Prt~jectand, 2119-210 uses and misuses of research for, 263-264 utility of science in, 114-1 34 Medicine, dternative eqerirnentaf testing and, 4 orthodox science and, l risk assessment and, 256 Meitner, Iisc, f 70, 186 Mendel, Ceorge Johann, 6&69 Barbard McCLintock and, 74, 75 data-fudging of, 9 04 DNA discoveries and, 94 sdentifie motivation of, 245 scientific reputation of, 84,85,89 Soviet genetics and, 176-17'1' Michurin, 1,V,, 176 Microbiology, 118-121 Micro~aphia[llobert 1 10tskc),89 Middle Agcs education during, 31 131ato'sinfluence during, 50 technolo@ed advances during, X5 Mill, lames, 21 9 Mill, John Stuart, 219,250 Monad, lacques, 28 Monot4leisrn, 7 Monlagnier, fuc, 129-130 Montagu, Lady Mmy Wc>rtley,122 Morality AIDS and, X32 B. I' Skinner and, 238 cost-benefit anatysis and, 257 evtsltttionay theory and, 87 fruits of science and, 242-246 genelic engineering and, 199-21 1, 265 fonas SaXk and, 127 negalive views of science and, 23-28,30, 242,246-253 orthodox science and, X pesticide use and, 212 profi tmaking and, 156-160 Siigmund 1:reud and, 227 values and, 34-36,242-266 Morgan, Isabet, 125 Morgan,'l: IZ., 74

286 I Index Morse, Sarnuel, 91

Moses and Mnorheism (Freud),228 Fame; Motivation, scientific,See C~~riosity; hffuence; Profit Motive; Reputation Muckter, lk., 158 Mysrerium Cosmograp~zicrrm(Jol~annes KepLer), 53,55 Mytils, 20-2 1 Naegeli, Earl, 68,85 Napoleon, Emperor 140uis,121,122 Nash, Qgdea, 225 (NSF), 39 National Science Fo~~ndatian Navigation, 7,9 Nazism atrocities under, 243,263 beliefs in scientific prt~gressand, 18 Emmy Noether and, 63 scientists and, 165-1 73, 178, 186-187, 189 Sigmtrnd Freud and, 228 Neuxnann, Jaha van, 195 Newcsmen, 'rhomas, 134 7"lreN ~ EScience U (Giarnbattista VicoJ, 248 N ~ W ( J11. ~A., , 61 NeMon, Sir Isaac Albert Einstein and, 57 data-fudging af, 104 experimental resting of, 66,?8 fame and, 38,108-109 Francis Bacon and, 17 Frankenstein and, 20 Gdilelo and, 144 Johanncs Kepter and, 54 professional career of, 3, R, 11,29,55-57, 87-90 psychology and, 219,220 reactions against, 25,27,246 rescarct~funding of, l44 Richard Dawkins and, 248 rise of modern science and, 6,8,10, 84 scientific reputation of, 84,87-90, 100-101 self image of, 4 5 Sigmund Freud and, 232,233 'f"humas lefferscsn and, 17 unscrupulous use of power by, 100-1 01 Nier, A. O, C,, 185 79134 (C;eorgc OwefI), 36 Nixon, Richard -d., 202 Nobel, iitfred, l5:3--155 Nobcl, Ernil, 154 Nobet Prize Mexander 1:Ieming and, 110,111 Andrei S&arov and, 18@l8I Lfarbara McC:Lintock and, 74,77

Chandrasekhara Venkata R m a n and, 72 cold fusion studies and, 162 creation of, 15.3-1 55 DNA discoveries and, 94,943 E:r&d&rir: and lrene loliot-Curie and, 186 Fritz f-faber and, 340 Ishmnes Stark and, 167, 169 fonas Salk and, 126 Marie Curie and, 69 Niels Bohr and, 189 13billipI'enard and, 4 67, 168 priority in discovery and, 86 pujsat-discoveri~sand, 99 rewarding individuals through, 13 Sigmund I:rertd and, 224 Waller C;ilherf and, 158 Werner E Xeisenberg and, X 70 Nsether, Exnrny (Amdie), 62 Nostalgia, 243 1Votesfio;m dm&rground (Fyodor Rost~yevskyl,30 Ncruuun Orgatturn (FrtmcisBacon), 16 NSE 39 Nuclear weapons cold fusion and, 161 industrialization of science in the I f , S, and, 12 Iraq and, 181-182 negative views of science and, 18-19, 22-23, f 13,242-243 scientists and, 185199 Soviet devetopment of, 179, X80 Werner 1Ieisenberg and, 1'7'0-171 Objectivity of science, 258-261 Qbservcltio~soflMckn (David I Iartley), 2 19 Qbservaloire Royd (Paris),9 Oedipus complex, 223 Oparin, A. l,, 174,178 Qppenheimer, I. Roherr Edward 'l'e11er and, f 92-194, 197 on physicists, 44 s n science and reason, 33 scientific career of, 191-195 Qppenbeim, Ernsu, 230 Qpticb (Isaae Mewton), 89 The Origin of S p i e s by Mc?axzs of NaPlrrwl Selection (Charles Darwin), 87,92,93, 149 Qrwell, George, 30 OW'l'oole, Margor, 105-108 Pappenl-lcirn,BertX-~a, 222 Pased, Btaise, 24 Pasteur, I,suis, 83, 118-121 Palenls AIDS research and, 130

Index / 287 Alfred Nobel and, 153-154 cold fusion and, 162 Ernst Chain and, 155-156 genetic engineering and, 159-160, 203-205,210-211

Harvard University and, 159 Joseph Henry on, 91 Marie Curie and, 153 pharmaceutical research and, 113,264 profits from, 143,152,246,264 steam power and, 135 Patronage, 143,145-146,150 Pauling, Linus, 94,97 Pavlov, I. l?. 174,178,234,235 Peck, Gregory, 224 Peirce, Charles, 3 , s Penicillin Alexander Fleming and. 80-83 experiments with, 110-1 12 patents for, 156 PenrPes (Blaise Pascal), 24 Perutz, Max. 34 Phaedo (Plato),249 Plwdnu (Plato), 248 Philosophy existentialism and, 30 Francis Bacon and, 15-17 morality and, 246 positivism and, 30 rise of modem science and, 8,9,27,28 scientific reductionism and, 248 value-neutral science and, 36.253-254 Philpott, Dr., 105 Physics discoveries in, 57-60,69-72,136-137 G e m a n discoveries in, 165-173 nuclear weapons and, 185-199 rise of modem science and, 6 Russian discoveries in, 173-181 Physics and Pl~ilosopl~y The Rewlution in Modern Science (Heisenberg), 173 Pirsig, Robert, 32 Planck, Max Barbara McClintock and, 76 Fritz Haber and, 142 Johannes Stark and, 169 Josiah Gibbs and, 60 Niels Bohr and. 189 Phillip Lenard and, 168 scientific career of, 165-167 Plato on change as degeneration, 14 scientific influence of, 6,51,54 Socrates and, 248 Plutarch, 51 Poincark, Henri, 42

Polio, 123-129 Politics. SeeaLFo Public policy cold fusion claims and, 162 ecology and. 211-218 genetic engineering and, 199-21 1 G e m a n scientists and, 165-173 involvement of scientists in, 4748,106, 121

present-day dictatorships and, 181-182 public policy and, 184-198 relativism in, 259 research funding and, 251-252 Russian scientists in. 173-181 Pons, Stanley. 160-164 Pope, Alexander, 24 Popper, Karl criticisms of science by, 3,249,252-253 Sigmund Freud and, 230 The Poprtlation Bomb (Paul and Anne Iihrlich), 216 The Poprrlarion Explosion (Paul and Anne Ehrlich), 216 Population growth, 19 Positivism, 30,253 Power. See lnfluence Powers, Thomas. 172 Predictions, 3-4 Price, Derek de Solla, 57,113 Priestley, Joseph Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier and, 146 Benjamin Franklin and, 17 lames Watt and. 135 scientific career of, 78-80 Pn'ncipia (Isaac Newton), 10,56,89,100,108 Principle of limited sloppiness, 82 Principles of Geology (Charles Lyell), 149 Prin ting press, 6 Pme~dingsof the Momvian Society (Gregor Johann Mendel), 68 Professionali7ation, 1G12.47 Profit motive and scientists, 135,143, 152-164246

'Project for a Scientific Psychology" (Freud), 222 Protestantism, 7-8. Seeah Religion Pseudoscience, 39 Psychology B. E Skinner and, 233-240 Cyril RUN and, 101-105 development of, 3,4,219-241 Sigmund Freud's work in. 221-233 Rolemaic astronomy, 4 Ptolemy, 52 Public Knowlalge (John Zlman), 40 Public policy applying scientific reason to, 255-256

288 I Index influence of scientists on, 47-48, 184-218 Pusztai, Arpad, 206-207 rlylhagoras Albert Einstein and, 57 Xsaac Newon and, 57 lehannes Keppler and, 53,54 scientific influence of, 50-51 string theory and, 63 TZabi, Isidor; 194,246 Radioactivity, 70-7 1 TZamm, Sir Chandrasekt~araVenkata, 72-74 Rand, Ayn, 238 l'laverz, lerry, 217 TZayleigh, T'ard John, 86 Reagan, Ronald, 130, X98 l'leductisnism, scientif c, 248 Reformation, 7 l'lelativism,259-260 TZetigion applied science and, 35 Einstein's understanding of science as, 43 evslutitsnary theory and, 92, 149 historic atrocities and, 243 orthodox science and, I persecutions of scientists and, 117, 144, 146,147,178 psychology versus, 22 X rise of rnodcrn science and, 7-8,34 scientific rnorivarion and, 58, 163 Sigmund Freud and, 226 Supreme Council of Newon and, 29 Renaissance, G The Rep~bLSEic[Plato),51 Reputation of scientias, 41,126-47,84--112, 120, 1311, 252 TZescarch, See also Experimental testing alternative types of hawledge and, 255-258 commercial motivation for, 113, 132, 152-164 criteria far scientists and, 39 determining value in, 35,261-266 enjoyable tinkering and, 77-78 funding for, 4 3, 1 t 3, 124, 133,143-1 52, 252-253 grueling aspects of, 44 high teel-inolo@ and, 12,118 institutianafizatisn of, 252-253 political retativism and, 259 publication ol; 33,47,8?-91 restrictitsns on, 200-203 risks resulting from, 263

social influence on, 244 value considerations and, 242-266 Retror6l"mses, 129-131 Qn the Reuoluf7'onsof fllzeHeave~l/ySplzere (Copernicus), 52 RiRin, fcremy,22-23,263 Risks, scientific, 254-258,261-266 Rodgers, (M,22 t Roman ticism, 24-26,31-32 Roosevelt, I;'ranMin D, Tfenry Wallacc and, 238 polio and, 123 U,S, atomic program and, 187, 196, 195 Rosalind Franklirz and 9hX (Anne Sayre), 96 Rosxak, Thsodore, 246, See also ff tapians Rotbtat, Joseph, l92 Royal Institution of Lcsndr~n,137 Royal Observatory at Greenwich, 9 Royal tlwiety sf 1,ondon for Improving Natural Knowledge chartering of, 9 Isaac Newan5 leadership off 100-10 1 memberslzip of, 16 priority in discovery and, 89 Rumford, Count, 136-1 37 RusseU, Bertrand Albert Einstein and, 109 B. E Skinner and, 233-234 on science and knowledge, 3,28,248 Rutherford, Ernest, l 85, 188 RyXe, Marlin, 99 Sahin, Blbert, 127-1 28 Sachs, Mexander, 1117 Qrz the Sncl-etl' DE'seasp (f Iippocrates], 115 Saint-Simon,Comle de, 29 S&ari-csv, Andrei, 179, 180-181,211 Salamon, Micl~aet,164 Salk, )arras, X21 Ptme and controversy, 122-129 work with AxIIS vaccine and, 133 A Sand c=clu~z@Alvncnnac (iflds Lecspold), 21 5 Sarlon, George, 17-18,3X Sayre, Anne, 96 Scheele, Karl, 85 Schwarz. John, 65 Science definition of*1-5 experiments and enjoyable tinkering, 77-78 induskrializalion of, 12-13 sbjectivicy and, 258-261 professioadizarion ofpf 0-12

profiting Srorn, 152-164 progress and, xiii-~v values and, 242-266 Science and Surr~ir~al (Barry Curnmoner), 214 SriePzfi$c Krlowledge arzd I& Social Problem (JerryRavetz), 217 Scruggs, 13ud, I63 SDI (Strategic DeSense Initiative}, 195, 198-199,252 7"lreSea Amnnd U;E (Rachcl Carsanf, 212 Seaborg, Glenn, 4% Sedgewick, Adam, 148 Servetus, Michael, X 16 Sex discrimination, 212 Jocelyn Relf and, 98-99 Rosalind FranMin and, 94-96,98 SL~alrristani,llussain, 181-182 Sbdespeare, Williarn, 233 ShelleyIMary Wotlstenecraft, 20-22 Shuxian, f,i, 182 Siderius Mlrrcirds (Gafilea Gdilei), 145 Silevz t Spring (Kachel Gasan), 2 1% Singer, M,, 201 Sinsheimer, l'lsbert, 2111,202,207 Skinner, R* E human values and, 30,250 life and influence r~f,233-240 scientific curiosity and, 4 S 4 6 Sklodowska, Mrrrie. See Curie, Madame Maric Sluaa-KetreringCancer Cenrer, 150-152 Sm;lllpctx, 122-123 Snow, Sir Charles Pcrcy on benelirs of uechnolom, 243 (in science and humanism, 31-34 on social hope fur individuals, 244 (in traditional literary cuIture, 243 7"lreSociaiaE ReEario~zsafSciePzce (1, G. Crawlher), 4 l Sricrates, 227,232,248-249 Sommerfield,Rmold, 169 Ssviet tJnion n ~ ~ c l cthreat ar from, 193-1 94,196,198 scientists inl 173-1 81 Spearman, Charles, 102 Spendcc Stcvcn, 238-239 Ssasz, Thornas, 238 Srdin, Joseph, 139,243 Fraaklin I). Roosevelt and, 191 So-viet pbsicists and, 179, 180 Trofini 1;yscnko and, 174, 176-I 77 Standard of living scientific contributitsns tcs, 243 scientific rnarivarions and, 47

Stark, fohanaes, 167,169, X70 S t e m engine, 1 3 4 l 3 6 Stcinem, Gtoria, 231 Stereotypes, 31-32 Stern, Curt, 75 Strassman, T7rr"tz,170, 186 Strategic1l)efenseInitiative (SDI), 195, 3 98-1 99,252 String theory, 63-65 Tlze Sm~calreofScientific Reuolurions Uhomas Kuhnf, I l Qn the Srruct~reoftlie Huunan Body (AndreasWsaliurj), 4 36 Summerlin,William 71, 150--152 Symmetry, 62 Tlze Sysrertz cfNarl~re(Baron d'l TIol bacl-?),29 Szilard, Leo Edward 'retler and, 19:5-197 misuse of scientific knowledge and, 264 sdentific career of, 185-188, 193 Tatlock, Jean, 191 'f"eehnslngy;See atso Applied science Chartcs Percy Snow's views of, 243 in C:hina, 5 Count Rumford and, 136-137 definition of, 2 future shock and, 30 medievat advances in, 15 predictions about, 217 rise of modern science and, 6,8 risks from, 200,242-246,254-258, 261-266 scientific rescarcl-?and, 12 theclretical science and, 42, X 13, 134-136 VLadimir Lenin and, 173 Telescope, 8, 145 Teller, Edward on sciendfic responsibility, 36 Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) and, f 95, 198-199 U.S. n ~ ~ c l cprograms ar and, 187, 192-194 on Werner Fleiscnhcrg, 171 Temrin, 1Ioward, t 29 'f"ennysan, Alfred I.t~rd,139 Thalilcs, 6,56 Thalidarnide, 156-158 Theories, scientific dekrelopmenr of, 2-5,38-39,49, 199 fraud and, 10f -l 88 Louis Pastcur and, 120 metaphysics and, 261-262 nationalism and, 167 relationat nature af, 247

290 1 Index saciaf control and, 260 thafidr~mideand, 156-158 Rreory ofCcllors EJol~annGoetl-~c), 27-28 Thermoctynamics, I36 Thomas, LeMris, 257 'Thompson, Sir Ilenjamin. Sec?Rumford, Count 'Thornson, Sir fosep1.afofin, 168, 185, 188 Thornson, Williarn (Lord Kelvin), I l Thorndike, Edward, 235 Rnzeus f131ato),50 Tc~ussainr,120 'Transplantations, 15t -1 52 Transposition, 75 Peatise on Hzlman ~Vatzkre(flume),219 'Trilling, f,ianet, 243 Truman, FIarry S., 187, 192-194 *Y'urgof,hne-Rr~hert-facyues, 17 Twin O&s, 237 U ~ ~ S(Jo~cc), S ~ S 228-229 Uncertainty principle, X 69-170 lJnited Slates atomic programs in, 187-199 reputation of science in, 91 Universities dichotomy of science and humanities in, 31 professionalizalian of science in, 10 profits from research conducted in, 159, 203-204 women seienrists leaching at, 62, 71 1JSSK. See Soviet IJnirsn Utilitarianisnl cost-benelit analysis and, 257 lererny B e n t h a and, 254 scientific xxorivarion and, 42-43 lJtc>pians,29-31)

Vaccines, 121-1 29 Vdfue-neutrd science, 36,25:1--254 Values, See Morality Vdvilc~v~ N. I,, 173, 114, 178 Vcllucci, Mayor, 200 Venter, E. Craig, 210-21 1 VerbalBelzaz~ior(Skinner), 239 Vcsalius, Adreas, 1 9 6-1 17 Vico, Giambattista, 248 Voila, Nessandro, 45

Wallace, Alfred Russet, evolutionary theory and, 07,92,148-149 Wall ace, t-Icnry, 138 Wdlis, John, 9 mshington, Urscsker 'E, 138 Waterston, f. J,, 86 Watsun, Jarnes cancer rcsearcti and, 152 DNA studies of, 94-97 genetic engineering and, 199-203, 268-2 2 0 liVausan, John, 233-234 Watt, James, 134-1 36 217 Weaver, Warren, B8, Weber, Max, 35 Wedgetvaod, Emrna, 148,149 Wedgewood, Josirsh, 148 Wedgewtsod, Susannh, 148 Weinberg, SSreven, 28 Weizmann, f:h&m, I R4 Weizsacker, Cart E von, 195 Wr""(YevgenyZamyalinf, 30 Weyl, I Iermann, 62,63 Whewell, WiXliam, 10, 56 Whitehead, Nfred North, 51 Wig'tltmm,W E? I),, 61 Wilkins, Maurice, 94-9"1 199 Wilson, Earl, 119, 125 WinchctU, Waller; 127 Witches, 16 Workaholics, 44 W r l d War 1 Albert Einstein and, 109 beliefs in scientific progress and, 18 Fritz Haber and, 142-142 scientific disctjveries and, 80 Sigmund 1:reud and, 226 World If beliefs in scientific progress and, 18 German alomie capability during, 170-17tl18C~187,192 Sigmund 17reudand, 228 1J .S atomic research during, 187-1 94 Wundt, Willhelm, 220 Zamyalin, Yevgeny, 30 Zen and the Art ofM~~;urcycIe Majnfenanw

(Rohert Pirsig), 32

Zi~nan,John, 40 Wdde, N., 104 WaEden B41o (R, E Skinner), 237,238 Wajd, George, 200

Xisnism, 189, 184

Zoological fzFliIosop/z*yf Jean-Bapf iste dc X,amarck),87