This chapter contains an outline of the book and of its main argument. It concentrates on the deep structure of the Peripatetic science of perishable living beings, which consists in separate but coordinated studies of animals and plants. It provides the reader with an initial idea of the contents of the book with an emphasis on the epistemic requirements that shape the Peripatetic study of perishable life.

It is widely believed that Darwin’s Galápagos finches inspired his theory of natural selection. Nothing could be further from the truth.  Darwin’s failure to label his Galápagos finch specimens by island, and his lack of useful behavioral observations about the differing diets of these birds, limited his ability to argue that their diverse beaks had evolved by natural selection to fill different ecological niches. For these reasons, these birds are not even mentioned in the Origin of Species. As is well established by historians of science, and as is further supported by Darwin’s own testimony, his revolutionary theory of natural selection was inspired by his reading of Thomas Robert Malthus’s book On Population in September 1838, three years after Darwin’s historic visit to the Galápagos Islands and two years after his return to England on the Beagle.  What Darwin’s Galápagos birds, including the famous finches, helped him to understand is that species often grade insensibly into one another and that varieties, as he later argued in the Origin of Species, are “incipient species.” It was the largely underappreciated existence of this variability among species in nature that allowed Darwin to grasp how natural selection might give rise to new species. Inspired in part by David Lack’s (1947) influential book Darwin’s Finches, the pervasive myth associated with these iconic birds is a classic instance of how important scientific discoveries often become telescoped around a dramatic moment of eureka-like insight, obscuring what typically proves to be a more protracted and conceptually multifaceted processes of scientific innovation.

In this concluding chapter, I draw conclusions about several important aspects of nature of science by drawing on the topics discussed in the various chapters of the book. Such conclusions include: that individual brilliance and creativity can make a difference; the historical milieu of the individual is equally crucial; that scientists are humans with weaknesses and concerns like all of us; and that gender may influence one’s opportunities to contribute to science.

Why should we care about the reception of Darwin in France? We should care because it’s a fascinating case study of how science can sometimes take an unexpected path as it circulates through a society. The myth of the “conspiracy of silence” was born in the 1860s out of a seeming paradox. Although France was one of the first countries to support transformist theories, it was one of the last in Europe to recognize Darwin’s theory. The myth spread in the 1870s, when Darwin experienced his first rejection at the Academy of Sciences in Paris. According to this myth, not only did the French remain silent on Darwin’s thesis, but there was a conspiracy to nip in the bud any attempt to discuss evolution. In fact, while the debate was largely thwarted in elite scientific institutions, it was growing among the educated public. Public discussion was crucial to the spread of Darwin’s theory, even before the scientific establishment had embraced it. The introduction of Darwinism in France was not a failure. It simply took unusual paths. Indeed, it is usually assumed that the circulation of theories is top-down, that is, from scientific elites to the masses. Through the case of the circulation of Darwinism in France, this chapter aims to show a different pattern, one that restores to the public its role in the diffusion of scientific theories.

Many scholars agree that one of Darwin’s main accomplishments was the introduction of blind mechanism into biology, thus banishing moral values from the understanding of nature. The history of Darwin’s accomplishment and the trajectory of evolutionary theory during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries has led many to the conclusion that the principle of survival of the fittest has rendered human behavior, including moral behavior, ultimately selfish. As a result, many accept the idea that Darwinian theory, especially as construed by Darwin’s German disciple, Ernst Haeckel, inspired Hitler and led to Nazi atrocities. However, this claim is false. A close historical examination reveals that Darwin, in more traditional fashion, constructed nature with a moral spine and provided it with a goal: man as a moral creature. Moreover, Hitler’s own conception of biological processes was antithetical to Darwin’s theory; and the leading Nazi theorists rejected Darwinian evolution because of its materialistic character. The chapter shows that Darwin is wrongfully blamed for Hitler’s atrocities.

It is widely believed that one of Charles Darwin’s most important accomplishments was to have banished teleology from biology. Darwin’s view of teleology was a much-debated question in the 19th century, when both advocates and opponents of teleology equated it with divine design (Asa Gray and Karl Ernst Von Baer, for example). Darwin himself, however, did not think he had done so, and didn’t think that teleology should be banished from biology. This chapter will challenge the myth of Darwin the anti-teleologist by looking at two distinct kinds of evidence. First, we will look at his correspondence with Harvard Botanist Asa Gray, who praised Darwin’s use of teleological explanation. While Gray and Darwin agree on the value of teleological thinking in biology, Darwin disagrees with Gray that this counts as evidence for divine design in nature. Then we will look at Darwin’s own biology, especially his botanical works written after the publication of On the Origin of Species, to better understand his use of teleological explanation in biology.

In the decades following the forging of the so-called Neo-Darwinian Synthesis in the 1940s, a number of its philosophical defenders created a myth about what Charles Darwin was up against, a viewpoint called “typological essentialism” often attributed to Aristotle. In this chapter I first sketch the history of how this myth was created. I then establish that it is a myth by providing an account of Aristotle’s essentialism as it is actually displayed in his philosophy of biology and in his biological practice. It has nothing to do with the ‘mythic’ version. We then turn to what Darwin was really up against—a creationist anti-evolutionary way of defining the species concept that was common in Darwin’s time (that owes nothing to Aristotle), and to his attempts to re-orient thinking about it. I will close by reconsidering Aristotle and Charles Darwin: Does it make any sense to think about the relationship between two thinkers separated by more than two millennia living in such vastly different cultures? What did Charles Darwin himself think about Aristotle?

The general theory of science outlined in Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics mandates that the scientific enterprise proceeds in stages, and that the two main stages of any scientific inquiry are the collection of the relevant data followed by their explanation – the pre-explanatory and the explanatory stages of inquiry, respectively. Aristotle’s study of animals illustrates this methodological insight in an especially clear way. Moreover, the following epistemic principle controls Aristotle’s study of animals: the study of animals must start from the most organized and most determinate form of life and must take that as its starting point to generate results that can be subsequently extended to what is comparatively less organized and less articulate. This means that the study of animals must begin with a discussion of the human body. This methodological insight is at work in Aristotle’s History of Animals. However, its significance goes well beyond the stage of the collection and presentation of the relevant data; this chapter shows that this rule of inquiry also shapes the explanation of the zoological data in Parts of Animals, Progression of Animals, and Generation of Animals. The chapter also discusses the distortions created by the application of this rule of inquiry with a concentration on Aristotle’s explanation of animal locomotion.

In 1866 Alfred Russel Wallace, Herbert Spencer, and Thomas Henry Huxley teamed up to urge Darwin to replace ‘natural selection’ with ‘survival of the fittest’ in future editions of the Origin. They felt that the purely ex post facto process suggested by this phrase would undercut the creationist objection that natural selection is haunted by intentional design. However, this is inaccurate. Thinking of natural selection as survival of the fittest leads to confusions between Darwin’s theory and the closely related but different accounts of Wallace, Spencer, and Huxley. Darwin’s own conceptual framework relied on comparing natural selection to the artificial selection of plant and animal breeders to argue for a trans-generational process in which natural selection gradually shape chance variant traits of individuals into adaptations. The notion of survival of the fittest changed that to perceiving natural selection primarily as the executioner of unfit organisms, in the process allowing it to serve as backing for unrestricted capitalism (‘social Darwinism’), racist imperialism, and eugenics.

Darwin’s assertion in his Autobiography that the “old argument of design…as given by Paley…fails, now that the law of natural selection has been discovered” underlines an antithesis between two competing ways of explaining the appearance of design in nature, in one case laden with theological connotations, in the other providing a license for the expansion of scientific naturalism. The contrast between the two has often structured accounts of Darwin’s achievement and has made it easy to suppose that he had been consistently motivated by the desire to refute Paley’s argumentation. The chapter will highlight evidence for significant changes over time, from Darwin’s Cambridge days when he had been “charmed” by Paley’s reasoning about design that, at the time, he considered “so conclusive”, through  to the time of his writing  On the Origin of Species when the conclusion was still “strong in my mind” that there was an intelligent First Cause and when he was still defining “nature” as the “laws ordained by God to govern the universe”, a trope consonant with Paley’s theism. The diachronic trajectory falsifies any claim that Darwin had always been fighting against Paley.  Throughout the chapter, it will be stressed that the fact that Darwin’s theory of natural selection could be presented as a refutation of Paley does not logically mean that it had been devised specifically and deliberately to serve that end.

Charles Darwin is often presented as the person who “discovered” evolution, sometimes along Alfred Russel Wallace. In some cases, references are made to the writings of Jean Baptiste Lamarck or Darwin’s grandfather Erasmus, but these are quickly dismissed as speculative. It is thus Darwin who is left as the single individual who figured out that species emerge from natural evolutionary processes, rather than special creation. However, this is far from accurate. The history of the study of evolution before Darwin not only includes Lamarck but a much wider intellectual community in Europe that discussed the stability of species and produced many different views on the subject. The European scientific scene from the late eighteenth century to the mid-nineteenth century was complex, and debates about the transformation of species had already occurred around 1800. This milieu extended beyond naturalists in England and France to Italian geologists and botanists, German naturalists and anatomists, and Russian paleontologists and zoologists. This chapter calls attention upon  a number of authors and readers engaging in  broadly “evolutionary” conversations.