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Revolution in Historiography of Science
Revolution in Historiography of Science
EACH of these two works, in its own peculiar way, bears testimony to the
change in our contemporary views about the nature of history of science
that has taken place in recent years. Indeed, to believe Professor Kuhn,
these changes amount to nothing less than "a historiographic revolution
in the study of science" (p. 3). Moreover, what gives this revolution a
deeper and more pervasive interest affects not only the historian's ideas
about our scientific past but has also a relevance for anyone's view of the
nature of science. Nor can we stop there. As both these texts amply
demonstrate, it is not possible to isolate opinions concerning scientific
knowledge from questions of the validity of the ideas that are involved in
the general theory of knowledge. Indeed, even this is somewhat to
misconceive the intellectual situation. Kuhn believes that the "exper-
iences", concepts, laws, theories and instrumentations of science are not
a single monolithic body of accumulated fact, patiently collected over the
ages, stripped progressively of erroneous accretions, but that instead -we
must regard the scientific enterprise as somehow fragmented into a
number of relatively (temporarily and ideologically) isolated periods,
during which some privileged theory, world-view, tradition, tends to
govern the selection of problems, standards of solution, the verdict of
experiment, a particular theory type, and a host of other like factors.
Now if this is the case, it must follow that the history of ideas,
including philosophical ideas, will likewise appear as a series of 'Gestalt-
views' in terms of which we shall tend to interpret more special enterprises
like those of history in general, and history of science in particular.
There are hints of this in Kuhn's book, though he has not worked out the
problems raised by this historical relativism in detail. He believes that
"the philosophical paradigm initiated by Descartes and developed at
the same time as Newtonian dynamics ... is somehow askew" (p. 120);
present-day "research in philosophy, psychology, linguistics, and even
art history", according to him, suggest that much. In other words,
there is not just one epistemological basis from which to judge history
and its methods, but several. If the Cartesian basis (or should we not
rather say: Lockean?), with its search after and optimistic anticipation
55
of "individual and stable data" (p. 120), "raw data or brute experience"
(p. 124), begets the sort of view of history that Professor Kuhn opposes,
then presumably a different view will likewise demand and be relative
to a different epistemological doctrine.
The ancestors of such an epistemology, inimical to the notion of "hard
data" and "scissors-and-paste history", are not far to seek; they include
Hegel, Bradley and Collingwood, and a host of minor idealist thinkers,
although their names do not occur in this book. On the other hand, we
must remember that they, like competing epistemologies, have their
fashions and their competitors. Now does this mean that Kuhn's own
theory of history is subject to a like "relativism"? We might formulate
our question by asking: Is there a world of objective fact, which we
confront with a series of alternative interpretations? Or is any sharp
distinction between fact and theory altogether misconceived-as Whewell
among the earlier philosophers of science already maintained, himself
only following up the logical consequences of an idealist Kantian tradition?
Are there as many worlds as there are "world-views"? Here Kuhn
sometimes hesitates. True, he tells us that "the proponents of competing
paradigms practice their trades in different worlds" (p. 149); but one
cannot be certain that this bold pronouncement is more than metaphor:
since there is indeed a harmless sense in which (to take a specific example)
"after discovering oxygen Lavoisier worked in a different world" (p. II7).
One cannot be certain, because the suggestion is less acceptable when
taken in a broad sense. And Kuhn himself seems then to shrink from
the extreme, for a few pages later, where once again he is discussing the
theory of combustion, he points out that despite the advent of a revolution,
much remains invariant; and we are told that "whatever he may then see,
the scientist after a revolution is still looking at the same world" (p. 128).
Still, these are broader issues. There is no doubt that within their
context, the main contentions of this book imply a refreshingly new
approach to both science and its history. If we accept them, we shall
no longer be tempted to look at past scientific achievements merely from
the vantage point of present-day textbook science; we shall be more
concerned to see them in terms of the problems, ideas, technological
backgrounds of their own day. No longer shall we find the historian of
science exhausting his task by chronicling achievements, only occasionally
stopping to point to some past "absurdity", some error of judgment or
mal-observation. On the contrary, it will be his pride-of-trade to explain
why some particular impasse had to occur. The "errors" of past scientists
will become manifest as the children of the necessary logic of scientific
history.
I have mentioned the distinction (or lack of distinction) between theory
and fact. Actually, Kuhn's doctrine is more articulated. For both fact
and theory are caught up in a stream of environmental flux of general
usefulness; and in order to preserve its specificity, we have to let it contract into
normal scientific theory. So whilst we might agree that there are trends
of scientific fashions, bodies of agreed methods and rules (cf. pp. 45-46),
and prestige research projects (physics one day, molecular biology
another), the picture is vaguer and messier than Kuhn's seemingly exciting
presentation at first sight suggests. Reading this volume, one gets the
suspicion that the author's facts are used to illustrate a preconceived
notion of historiography, not to prove it. Nor is this necessarily a very
damning criticism. As Kuhn admits (pp. 44-50), it is extremely difficult
to determine the paradigm by "direct inspection"; activities and theories
belonging to a paradigm have not in common a single set of properties
belonging to it alone and to no others; its rules and methods are usually
acquired implicitly and almost unawares.
II
If the notion of the "paradigm" tends to engender a more sympathetic
attitude to "older science", it has however still other far-reaching
implications for our understanding of the nature of scientific change.
Here, it sets out to abolish several apparent shibboleths erected by a
variety of evidently misguided philosophical schools, such as logical
positivists and their successors (p. 97), old-fashioned empiricists and
believers in "sense-data" and "brute" or "immediate experience" (p. 124),
verificationists (probabilistic or otherwise) (p. 144), as well as the
falsificationist disciples of Professor Popper (p. 145)-a truly formidable
array of scholars to take on all at once!
Now it might have been thought that since according to Kuhn's view
the distinction between theory and fact is no longer so sharp as entertained
by the more old-fashioned view of science, a paradigm-dominated period
would tend toward self-perpetuation. On the contrary however, the
effect of paradigm operation is quite the reverse; for although this may
dominate problem-search, methods of investigation, corrections of
answers, and a whole set of models in terms of which a given period
organises its research (stabilised eventually into "normal science"),
nevertheless the domination of a paradigm is never complete, so that
even as part of "normal science" there constantly arise "anomalies"
leading to minor or major "crises". To the degree to which the paradigm
postpones its own change or demise, pressures build up which eventually
lead to "revolution", much in the way in which this often happens in the
political history of nations.
For empiricist-minded philosophers, the important insight offered by
this view is to teach them that the notions of "verification" and
"falsification" (counter-instances) in their relation to theories, have been
misconceived-at least, in so far as they affect our understanding of
science. The naive view seems to be that positive instances are used as
to provide unitary theories, and to show that one can derive older theories
from later and presumably more adequate and more general ones, is that
according to logico-positivist doctrine a theory is not so much a
description of the facts (articulated by the use of deductive forms) but a
conventionalist device for "pigeon-holing" these facts (to use one of
Dr Agassi's labels). One of the chief objectives of the conventionalist
device is to try and explain, just like Kuhn, the relative incorrigibility of
the major principles of science, not to say their untestability. One may
then be tempted to infer that a conventionalist cannot conceive of
refutation of any kind. This would be a mistaken inference. Scientific
"conventions", logically speaking, are idealisations of empirical general-
isations (which is not to deny that as creatures of a certain "world-view"
they may not in fact have been discovered as "anticipations of nature").
As idealisations, they have their uses. "Conventions are conveniences",
to paraphrase Poincare, with whom this concept originated. Kuhn can
hence not refute conventionalism by insinuating the argument that on
logico-positivist principles a theory must be true, come what may. A
logical positivist may well agree that a theory has lost its uses, and be
quite prepared to abandon it.
It may of course be that Kuhn means to insist in principle on the
implausibility of ever being able to derive any laws or theories of one
period from those of another, both because logical derivations from later
theories never quite fit the earlier, and because the meanings of the
concepts employed in the two situations are not invariant-on the lines
argued in Feyerabend's celebrated chapter in Minnesota studies iii. 3
But the present text does not make this clear, partly because it occasion-
ally concedes that a new paradigm may only partially replace older
concepts and methods of interpretation as well as "world-views"; partly
because the notion of paradigm, as I have already argued, is not sufficiently
well delineated; and finally, because Kuhn's admission that a new
paradigm "permits prediction of phenomena that had been entirely
unsuspected" operates with a criterion which makes clear sense only if
it is granted that after all there is a certain relatively neutral set of data,
or "brute experiences".
To give a naive example: it is true that "standards of solutions" may
change; a new paradigm may redirect the scientist's gaze into directions
hitherto thought to be unimportant. But is will surely be admitted that
it was none the less always a fact that during a process of combustion
phosphorus gained considerable weight. True, this could be described
in different ways (including the "loss of levity"); but will it be denied
that to both the phlogistonist as well as Lavoisier the burnt specimen
would have felt heavier? It will of course be objected that this is not to
the point; that the phlogistonist would either not have noticed the fact,
or that had he done so he would have been able to reintegrate-it into his
III
The author of the second of the two works under review is a disciple of
Popper, and we might expect him therefore to defend some form of
falsificationism and thus collide with some of Kuhn's theses. In the
event this does not turn out to be the case; as with Kuhn, the positive
methodological underlying doctrine is very general and plastic and
adaptable to numerous interpretations. What unites Agassi and Kuhn
is their critique of old-fashioned "scissors-and-paste" history, and of the