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The Accademia del Cimento in seventeenth-century Florence has traditionally been seen as the first European organization to employ an experimental programme, thus becoming a major participant in the so-called ‘birth of modern experimental science’. Such traditional accounts have also detailed the cultural, political and religious environment of the period that contributed to the Accademia's use of a supposedly atheoretical experimental method. However, despite the merits of such cultural histories, these stories do not portray the full details behind the Accademia's intellectual workings – how knowledge claims were constructed, interpreted and presented by the academicians according to their natural philosophical concerns. It is argued here that such an analysis will provide a more accurate account of the Accademia's activities than existing stories about the birth of an experimental programme or method. By looking past the experimental rhetoric produced by the academicians in their only publication, Saggi di naturali esperienze, we begin to see at play one of the major issues which made up the Accademia's knowledge-making process: the natural philosophical interests of this institution's participants, particularly Borelli, Viviani, Rinaldini and Marsili. Those interests are represented in the Accademia's experiments, including their work concerned with air pressure and the void.
In France 15 per cent of university professors are women. Though this percentage is not high, France ranks among the top European countries in this regard. We argue that the “relatively favorable” situation of French women scientists is related to the social structure of French society, in particular its child-care system, and to the stable permanent positions in academia, where people are hired in their early thirties. French women scientists experience less difficulty than other European colleagues to manage both a private and a professional life. We also argue that the weak position of French gender studies stems from its lack of institutionalization, and from the isolation of the single researchers in their specialized disciplines. Finally we argue that the French recent interest in the issue of women and science is specifically related to the general interest, since the mid-1990s, in the political parity problem.
European universities have been informally and formally closed to women from their founding in the twelfth century until the late nineteenth century. A few, exceptional women scientists received Ph.D.s and taught in these institutions before 1900: Laura Bassi served as lecturer in physics at the University of Bologna from 1732 to 1778 and held the chair in experimental physics at the prestigious Istituto delle Scienze from 1776 until her death in 1778 (Findlen 1993; Ceranski 1996). Anna Morandi Manzolini replaced her husband as lecturer in anatomy at the University of Bologna in 1755 (Messbarger 2001). Dorothea von Schlözer, daughter of the renowned Göttingen historian, received a doctoral degree for her work in mineralogy in 1787 (Schiebinger 1989, 257–60). These intermittent positions awarded to women were unique to Italy and Germany; none were granted women in England or France. Nowhere in Europe did women gain regular access to universities until the late nineteenth century.
The Rev. Dr John Walker was the Professor of Natural History at the University of Edinburgh from 1779 to 1803. Although his time in this position has been addressed by several studies, the previous thirty years that he spent ‘mineralizing’ have been virtually ignored. The situation is similar for many of the well-known mineralogists of the eighteenth century and there is a lack of studies that address how a mineralogist actually became a mineralogist. Using Walker's early career as a guide, this essay seeks to detail the making of an eighteenth-century Scottish mineralogist. The time frame under examination begins with Walker's matriculation at the University of Edinburgh in 1746 and it ends with his being appointed professor in 1779. The first section demonstrates that Walker's early mineralogical education at the Medical School and under William Cullen was closely linked to chemistry. The second section shows how he used chemical characters to classify minerals and to criticize the systems of Linnaeus, Da Costa, Wallerius and Cronstedt. Because Walker needed many ‘fossil’ samples to test the viability of his chemical mineralogy, the final section details how he used tours, patrons and correspondents to build his mineral collection.
Science is more sex-segregated in Germany than in other European countries or in the United States. Female students and faculty were admitted to German universities 30 to 50 years after they were admitted to universities elsewhere. This article analyzes why this was so. First, since the nineteenth century, science has enjoyed great prestige in Germany: German higher education was systematized at that time and has since then been run by the government. In addition, the early professionalization of science in Germany put in place demands for high levels of qualification and research, which made academic careers in science attractive to Germany’s social elites. Germany lacked a strong feminist movement. For many years women were excluded from the academic labor market. Even after women were admitted to universities, female representation in faculty positions was sporadic. Exclusionary strategies, often demanded by male academics, were implemented throughout the interwar years, culminating in the anti-feminist policies of the Nazi regime, and the expulsion and persecution of “non-Aryans.” After World War II this legacy of a conservative, often anti-feminist, faculty persisted. As a result, academic careers opened to women only after the tremendous expansion of universities in the 1970s. New feminist movements have finally motivated the government to introduce programs in the 1990s aimed at greater sexual equality.
I have just received H's coarse-looking little book [Man's Place in Nature] – not fit as somebody said to me, for a gentlemans table.
– Joseph Hooker to Charles Darwin, 1863
As Huxley sought a scientific career, first at sea and then in London, during the late 1840s and early 1850s, he drew on a range of models of manliness from the imperial culture of exploration and conquest and from the heroes of sentimental fiction. He also appropriated ideals of Victorian womanhood and domesticity to distance himself from and obtain moral authority over other forms of commercial and industrial endeavor. Isolated for much of this period from the metropolitan world of learning, he conferred a social meaning upon his scientific work through the novels he read, the journal he kept, and the extensive correspondence he undertook with his fiancée. How then did Huxley conduct himself with other gentleman practitioners whose company he now wished to join? How did he position himself within this diverse scientific community? Who became his models, mentors, and patrons?
At mid-century, the sciences in Britain had little of the career structure and few of the defining institutions of today, such as the large research laboratory with its team of experts, the academic department, or the university degree.
A tendency to excessive reverence for men of science … often subdues me, and, when I find myself unsustained in my inmost convictions, depresses and afflicts me.
– James Martineau, 1868
If Huxley's scientific identity was derived in part from the identities of the artist and man of letters, how then was the man of science defined in relation to the clergyman, the figure who in many respects appears his most obvious counterpart or rival? Until the early Victorian period, scientific practitioners had often been clergymen by vocation. Leading naturalists such as William Buckland, Adam Sedgwick, and John Henslow not only combined their respective geological and botanical pursuits with clerical office but actively incorporated their science within the Anglican tradition. Natural theology continued to provide a unifying structure for English science well into the nineteenth century. Even practitioners like Darwin, who chose not to pursue a Church living, and whose work was viewed by some as undermining the principle of design in nature, still occupied traditional positions in society that rested partly on religious foundations and exercised a quasi-religious authority in their local communities. The appearance of Darwin's Origin of Species and other works, however, has long been associated with the decline of religious authority over the mind, and as evidence of the gradual secularization of knowledge and the corresponding replacement of religious leadership in a variety of quarters by new professions.
I have nearly traversed half the globe and have found only error and discord till I came to your cottage, where truth and happiness reside.
– Bernardin de St. Pierre, The Indian Cottage
In 1846, Thomas Huxley received an appointment on HMS Rattlesnake, a survey vessel bound for the South Seas. In his shipboard diary, the twenty-one-year-old called himself a “man of science,” but the designation was highly tenuous. His official title was assistant surgeon, a low-ranking officer in Her Majesty's Navy. With only two years of formal schooling, Huxley had been apprenticed to general medical practitioners in Coventry and London's East End. With the help of a scholarship, he had taken courses at Charing Cross Hospital and had read comparative anatomy and physiology in the library of the Royal College of Surgeons. Having completed the first examination for the degree of Bachelor of Medicine at University College, but lacking the financial means to continue his education, he entered the navy in 1845. A position on a survey voyage afforded a young man an excellent opportunity for furthering a career in science; however, Huxley was not the official naturalist on the Rattlesnake. This title fell to the ornithologist John MacGillivray, whose father was a professor of natural history at Aberdeen. Such dredging and dissection as Huxley desired to perform would have to be supplementary to his medical duties. His scientific findings were not guaranteed a place within the official report of the voyage.