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An attempt to understand and analyze a unique nineteenth-century musical instrument – the enharmonic piano from the collection of the Glinka Museum of Russian Musical Culture in Moscow – directs a historian towards Prince Vladimir Odoyevskiy’s efforts to construct a special musical scale corresponding to the indigenous tradition of Russian music. Known today mostly as an author of Romantic short stories, Odoyevskiy was also an amateur scientist and musician, a follower of Schelling’s Naturphilosophie, and a mystic. He tried to design his new musical scale and instruments on the basis of experimental science and mathematics. Odoyevskiy’s life-long search for a synthesis of literature, music, positive science, and spirituality demonstrates how the adaptation and appropriation of European arts preceded and paved the way towards the appropriation of European sciences among the educated élite in nineteenth-century Russia. The tensions inherent in the process led to Odoyevskiy’s nationalist rebellion against the European musical standard, the equal temperament. His call for a different musical scale remained largely ignored in the nineteenth century, until the topic was raised anew by twentieth-century composers and musicians.
I believe that some pollutions are used as analogies for expressing a general view of the social order.
Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger (Douglas 1966, 14)
The possibility of crossing humans with other anthropoid species has been discussed in fiction as well as in scientific literature during the twentieth century. Professor Il’ya Ivanov’s attempt to achieve this was crucial for the beginning of organized primate research in the Soviet Union, and remains one of the most interesting and controversial experiments that was ever done on non-human primates. The possibility of removing the boundary that separates humans from other animal species, apes in particular, is loaded with important political meaning and violates cultural and ethical taboos. The history of Ivanov’s scientific experiment thus helps to reveal some of the twentieth-century’s important cultural conventions and hidden assumptions about human nature, species, and social hierarchy.
State patronage and the modernizing role of the government have been considered crucial for the development of science in Russia during both Imperial and Soviet periods. This paper argues, on the contrary, that the start of Russian agricultural science had predominantly local and non-governmental sources of support. Amateur experiments by nobles aspiring to become “cultured” landlords, university professors applying their scientific knowledge to their own estates, and the efforts by local community administrations, zemstvo, to compete for grain markets all contributed, by 1900, to the establishment of various stations for agricultural research. The Imperial government became involved in this process rather belatedly, with an effort to further stimulate and coordinate the institutional network of agricultural science. By 1917, this network included more than 300 breeding and experimental stations. Despite revolutionary violence and the loss of former patrons, most of these stations managed to maintain their functions throughout the Civil War and formed the basis of Soviet agricultural science.
Like almost everything in the Soviet Union, the discipline of history of science and technology altered dramatically during the social upheaval of Gorbachev’s perestroika, in some ways that were predictable, and in other ways that were not. One new direction of research that has since grown into a bourgeoning field – the social history of Russian and Soviet science – is represented by the articles in this volume. This short introduction cannot substitute for a real historiographical study, which will probably appear in due course (see also Gerovitch 1996, Gerovitch 1998, Graham 1993). This is rather a personal memoir about the origin and motivations behind the approach; as incomplete as a participant’s memoir can be, but with some benefits of retrospective hindsight. Ten years ago, at a time of great fluidity in minds and intellectual agendas, many developments were driven primarily by intuition and the sheer momentum of Zeitgeist; now, as things have become somewhat settled, there is time for more reflection.
Every new level achieved by technology attracted the attention of physiologists and turned their thoughts in a new direction; they often unwittingly modeled life processes in the image of contemporary engineering achievements.
–(Nikolay Bernshteyn [1958] 1997, 392)
This article reinterprets the debate between orthodox followers of the Pavlovian reflex theory and Soviet “cybernetic physiologists” in the 1950s and 60s as a clash of opposing man-machine metaphors. While both sides accused each other of “mechanistic,” reductionist methodology, they did not see anything “mechanistic” about their own central metaphors: the telephone switchboard metaphor for nervous activity (the Pavlovians), and the analogies between the human body and a servomechanism and between the human brain and a computer (the cyberneticians). I argue that the scientific utility of machine analogies was closely intertwined with their philosophical and political meanings and that new interpretations of these metaphors emerged as a result of political conflicts and a realignment of forces within the scientific community and in society at large. I suggest that the constant travel of man-machine analogies back and forth between physiology and technology has blurred the traditional categories of the “mechanistic” and the “organic” in Soviet neurophysiology, as perhaps in the history of physiology in general.
Post-Stalinist reforms resulted in dramatic changes in the ways of operation of Soviet science: one can say that they altered the very understanding of what science was, or should be, in the socialist society. A new vision came about as a result of political and rhetorical efforts of scientists, who pushed forward their various, often conflicting, agendas acting in accordance with specific rules of Soviet polity. The most visible part of the reform came with the 1961 administrative reorganization of the USSR Academy of Sciences. The related series of changes, however, was much broader and comprehensive, modifying the relationships between science and ideology, politicians and academic researchers, and establishing the very division between fundamental and applied research, which had been strongly rejected during the preceding Stalinist period.