Two dominant models of criticism are identified and analyzed. One is selfconsciously normative. It conceives of criticism as subject to strict logical rules. The other views itself as essentially descriptive and accounts for the critical activity in terms of social factors. In spite of their different origins and purposes, it is argued that both models share a reductionistic thrust, which minimizes the role of the critic qua agent. It is further agreed that neither provides an adequate account of critical activity and its role in science.

The paper offers a reconstruction of one aspect of Bakhtin's philosophy, focusing on a deep-seated ambivalence that has been largely overlooked in studies based on his late works. Bakhtin's early work, 1920–23, is set within a distinctly metaphysical framework, an outlook that seems diametrically opposite to what has become known as the Bakhtinian conception of culture. That ideological rift is manifest in the different treatment of Dostoevsky's works (and, by extension, the different attitude to the secularization of Western culture) in these two phases.

Extrapolating Bakhtin's perspective onto Dostoevsky's work, the paper briefly outlines a theory of modernism as a “crisis of authority,” with particular emphasis on the role of closure — i.e., retrospective framing, both literary and existential — in the absence of metaphysical grounding.

Finally, the paper offers a comment on Bakhtin's wholesale assimilation into the postmodernist canon, in an attempt to problematize it and to reformulate some relevant and persistent questions on the significance of narrativity in human existence.

Muslims share with others both the interest in and the concern about genetic engineering. Naturally their reactions and views stem from general Islamic dogma and from Islamic medical ethics, but they are not unaware of Western scientific data. Particularly relevant is the Islamic religious prohibition against “changing what Allah has created.” Muslim muftis try to offer practical solutions for individuals. Islamic law is concerned about maintaining pure lineage. Consanguineous matings are very common, but induced abortions are usually ruled out. Cloning has reawakened among Muslims an old debate over the positive as well as hazardous aspects of genetic engineering.

One of the earliest arguments for Copernicanism was a widely accepted fact: that on a horizontal plane a body subject to no external resistance can be set in motion by the smallest of all possible forces. This fact was contrary to Aristotelian physics; but it was a physical argument (by abduction) for the possibility of the Copernican world system. For it would be explained if that system was true or at least possible.

Galileo argued: only nonviolent motions can be caused by the smallest of all possible forces; hence resistance-free horizontal motions are nonviolent; this confirms Copernicanism insofar as it designates the rotations of celestial spheres (being resistance-free horizontal motions) as nonviolent.

Galileo's argument was compatible with (and supportive of) the specific Copernican version of impetus mechanics; but it was also compatible with a (somewhat qualified) principle of inertia. Thus it promoted decisively the transition from impetus mechanics to classical inertial mechanics.

Argument

At the beginning of the twentieth century, the Russian mathematician Andrey A. Markov extended the laws of the calculus of probability to trials that were dependent on each other, purely theoretically. In two articles from 1913, which are presented here in English translation, he applied his theory for the first time to empirical material, namely text. After a presentation of Markov's methods, results, and possible inspirations, the introduction investigates the dissemination of his ideas to Western Europe and North America in detail. The experimental application of his method to various types of text finally determines its scope.

Argument

This article explores the relationship between ideology and statistical knowledge in Soviet Yiddish scholarship during the first Five-Year Plan and Cultural Revolution. Specifically, it examines the political status of Yiddish-language socioeconomic research as a tool of state building in the shtetls (small market towns) of the former Pale of Jewish Settlement. Historically, many Jewish inhabitants of the shtetl worked as economic middlemen between city and countryside, a function that became politically untenable after 1917. The Soviet regime sponsored Yiddish socioeconomic data collection in order to monitor its efforts to transform the occupational structure of shtetl Jewry. Accordingly, this data was expected to demonstrate the steady self-disintegration of the shtetl as an obsolete artifact of the old regime. In fact, these Soviet Yiddish narratives inadvertently highlighted the endurance of the shtetl in Soviet life at both the concrete and discursive levels. A close reading of these sources provides insight into how a segment of the Soviet Jewish intelligentsia attempted to align itself within the new state's scientific establishment by fusing modern Jewish social scientific knowledge with Marxist-Leninist principles. In the polemics of the “shtetl problem” we find an example of how Soviet yidishe visnshaft registered the constantly shifting perceptions of ideological orthodoxy and deviation among Jewish Communists, and provoked international debate among Jewish demographers and economists as to the political use and abuse of statistics.

German twentieth-century history is characterized by stark changes in the political system and the momentous consequences of World Wars I and II. However, instead of uncovering specific kinds or periods of “Kaiserreich science,” “Weimar science,” or “Nazi science” together with their public manifestations and in such a way observing a narrow link between popular science and political orders, this paper tries to exhibit some remarkable stability and continuity in popular science on a longer scale. Thanks to the rich German history of scientific leadership in many fields, broad initiatives for science popularization, and a population and economy open to scientific progress, the media offered particularly rich popular science content, which was diversified for various audiences and interests. Closer consideration of the format, genre, quality, and quantity of popular science, and of the uses and value audiences attributed to it, along with their respective evolution, reveals infrastructures underpinning science communication. Rather than dealing with specific discourses, the conditions of science communication are at the center of this article. Therefore I focus on the institutions, rules, laws, and economies related to popular science, as well as on the philosophical, moral, and national propositions related to it, and also on the interactions among this ensemble of rather heterogeneous elements. This approach allows a machinery of popular scientific knowledge to be identified, in Foucauldian terms a dispositif, one which is of a particularly cultural nature.

According to a long-standing interpretation which traces back to Max Jammer's Concepts of Force (1957), Ruggiero G. Boscovich would have developed a concept of force in the tradition of Leibniz's dynamics. In his variation on the theme, basic properties of matter such as solidity or impenetrability would be derived from an interplay of some “active” force of attraction and repulsion that any primary element of nature (“point of matter” in Boscovich's theory) would possess. In the present paper I discuss many flaws of this interpretation and argue for an alternative point of view, according to which the crucial aspect in the development of Boscovich's natural philosophy is his early definition of forces as “mathematical determinations” to have a certain state of motion. This is consistent with a Newtonian background and has as its epistemological consequence a certain agnosticism about the nature of forces and a “mathematical neutralism” (mathematics as a neutral tool, allowing for a plurality of interpretations).

Of Euclid’s lost manuscripts, few have elicited as much scholarly attention as the Porisms, of which a couple of brief summaries by late-Antiquity commentators are extant. Despite the lack of textual sources, attempts at restoring the content of this absent volume became numerous in early-modern Europe, following the diffusion of ancient mathematical manuscripts preserved in the Arabic world. Later, one similar attempt was that of French geometer Michel Chasles (1793–1880). This paper investigates the historiographical tenets and practices involved in Chasles’ restoration of the porisms, as well as the philosophical and mathematical claims tentatively buttressed therewith. Echoes of the Quarrel of the Ancients and the Moderns, and of a long-standing debate on the authority and usefulness of the past, are shown to have decisively shaped Chasles’ enterprise—and, with it, his integration of mathematical and historical research.

The thesis of the paper is that there is no “abuse” of science as suggested by the legend of Galileo but only a mutual opportunism characterizing the relation between science and politics.

Any scientific research depends on the accessibility of its subject matter, plus material resources. The absence of internal constraints, the hunger for novelty, translate into a powerful drive to secure both. The coupling between science and politics in our time is based on a mutual dependence: resources and accessibility are exchanged for solutions to problems and legitimation.

Scientific disciplines are highly sensitive to their environments with respect to the possibilities of extending their power of definition and of thereby obtaining resources. The ability of the sciences to expand their power of definition depends on the political “context of relevance.” The context, such as a socialist or fascist ideology, selects against certain sciences. But for a government to be able to favor one school at the expense of another there have to be competing factions within science, and their conflict has to be to some extent unresolved.

Modern democratic systems differ from totalitarian ones insofar as their interest in science is ideologically vague and primarily economic in nature. This does not mean that the same mechanisms of mutual utilization do not operate.

The article argues that Frederick II of Hohenstaufen and his court played a unique role in the transfer and diffusion of Arabic science (with its Greek, Hebrew and Christian elements). Scientists at the court translated and elaborated upon it. Moreover, there existed a two-way traffic of scientific knowledge between Frederick and his court scholars, on the one hand, and several oriental courts and their scientists on the other hand. Thus the reader gains a view of Frederick's scientific activities from the Arab perspective, too.

Frederick's contribution to the existing biological sciences of his time was his “Book of Falconry”, which was exceptional in the then contemporary approach and methods employed in those fields. Even in this treatise on falconry, Frederick drew upon the fund of knowledge of Arab practitioners. This chain of arguments concerning Arabic science is situated within the setup of Frederick's oriental political practice and sumptuous court life.

Sociologists of Third World science, who share the dominant assumption in the philosophy of science that the “culture” of specific substantive fields of scientific inquiry is invariant across the globe, have, after a period of blind optimism devoted to building a critical mass of scientists in the developing countries, relapsed into a bleaker mood and see the Third World as a peripheral region lacking in “creativity” in its research programs.

Challenging the doctrine of the universality of scientific practice by means of an in situ study of an Indian physics laboratory, an attempt is made to bring to light a particular community's shared ideals of knowledge (provided by the specific historico-cultural Indian context) which animate the everyday practice of its field of study and fashion its choice of problems, style of professional communication, attitudes toward experiment, etc. These local ingredients should not be understood as deficiencies with respect to some arbitrary norm (mostly taken as the practice in the particular field of inquiry in the “developed” world) but as what differentiates research practices in different parts of the world.

A scientific work presupposes a body of texts that are a condition for its intelligibility. This paper shows that the study of intertextual reference — of the ways a text indicates its relation to other texts — provides a fruitful perspective in the study of science that deserves more attention than it has hitherto received. The paper examines intertextual reference in early nineteenth-century mathematics, first surveying a variety of mathematical texts in the period and then examining in detail W.R. Hamilton's work on quaternions.

Three questions are addressed: (1) What forms of intertextual reference are employed? (2) What is the range of intertextual reference? (3) What are the functions of intertextual reference? The answers to the first two questions provide an unexplored perspective on the institutional changes in science during the period. The transitional status of the period in the development of later professional science is reflected in the relative openness in the forms of intertextual reference employed and the range of texts to which reference was made. In virtue of these features the period is particularly fruitful in the study of the functions of intertextual reference. With some major qualifications, the paper defends a Mertonian view that intertextual reference needs to be understood in terms of the claim to intellectual property rights.

Soon after finishing his studies in 1900, Einstein makes a tactical retreat to the Patent Office in Bern where he develops a plan for returning to the academic fold. He is assisted in this by a central figure in the Zurich establishment, Alfred Kleiner, who grooms him for the return. More generally, I argue that Einstein's role in the emergence of theoretical physics as a discipline results from the interaction of two developments, one external and institutional, the other internal and personal. Certain institutional constraints influence Einstein's early academic career by providing a professional opportunity to which he can adjust his career plans. The existence of this professional context for Einstein's early work in physics plays a role in encouraging him to pursue the speculative work in physics that became his distinctive hallmark. The other side of the coin is that Einstein's personal legitimation as professor of theoretical physics in 1909 also confers legitimacy on his speculative research, which in turn infuses the term “theoretical physics” with new meaning. The key factor uniting Einstein's personal development with institutional opportunities is the special relationship that he enjoys with Kleiner, who serves as the focus of interactions between the external and internal developments described in the paper.

I felt happy but a little apprehensive when I received the suggestion from the editors of Science in Context to write a comment on my book Categories of Medieval Culture quite a few years after its first publication (1972) and translation. It is always difficult to comment on one's own work, for in such a case there is seldom the necessary degree of “distance” between the author and the commentator. I offer this paper rather as a short account of the direction of my thoughts.

Stylistic analysis of an admittedly speculative scientific article can suggest what is involved in the social act of speculation. Walter Gilbert's influential paper “Why Genes in Pieces?” serves as an example of the conflicting demands of the need to display politeness and the need to display the urgency and excitement of the issues. Socially significant stylistic features emerge in comparison with another paper Gilbert co-authored, where the speculations occur in the discussion section of an experimental report, and in comparison with another, more typical “News and Views” article by another author. The stylistic features include the use of impersonal subjects, the hedging of verbs, the unusual uses of the present tense, and the reliance on repetition, rather than conjunctions or pronouns, for textual cohesion. Later references to the article assimilate it to various lines of research without suggesting its speculative style.

Between 1838 and 1863 the Grimm brothers led a collaborative research project to create a new kind of dictionary documenting the history of the German language. They imagined the work would present a scientific account of linguistic cohesiveness and strengthen German unity. However, their dictionary volumes (most of which were arranged and written by Jacob Grimm) would be variously criticized for their idiosyncratic character and ultimately seen as a poor, and even prejudicial, piece of scholarship. This paper argues that such criticisms may reflect a misunderstanding of the dictionary. I claim it can be best understood as an artifact of romanticist science and its epistemological privileging of subjective perception coupled with a deeply-held faith in inter-subjective congruence. Thus situated, it is a rare and detailed case of Romantic ideas and ideals applied to the scientific study of social artifacts. Moreover, the dictionary's organization, reception, and legacy provide insights into the changing landscape of scientific practice in Germany, showcasing the difficulties of implementing a romanticist vision of science amidst widening gaps between the public and professionals, generalists and specialists.

This text is a reflection on the fate of a special kind of scientific object - anatomy collections - and their place in contemporary times. Though the phenomenon of keeping and displaying such collections is generally dying out, those specimens which survive continue to puzzle and fascinate us. To understand the current status of such collections, and the nostalgia evoked by the specimens within them, I argue, we should approach them as modern ruins. This allows us to think of them as places of absence, pointing to unfinished lives and unfinished scientific projects. The paper begins with the story of a preserved human face from the Francis I. Rainer anatomical-anthropological collection (Bucharest), and continues by discussing the fate of that collection, and of anatomy collections more widely. Ultimately, the paper asks, what is it that we want to preserve: specimens, practices, or research philosophies?