In trying to understand why a chemist thought as he did, and drew one set of conclusions rather than another, probably the most important thing we need to know is what picture he had in mind of the way in which chemical reactions take place. There are, of course, many other things we need to know. For example, we need to know his social, economic and cultural circumstances, how he was educated and his ideas of the social function of science and in particular of chemistry; we need to know what scientific societies and institutions he belonged to and how they influenced him; and we need to know what he hoped to get out of his work in chemistry—fame or a living or personal satisfaction or a combination of two or three of those results. Indeed, it has become fashionable in recent years to consider those aspects rather than the nature of his actual chemical thought. Yet in the end, his mental picture of chemical change is surely the most important factor in determining what the chemist's results will be, and is therefore the most important factor for historians to understand.

It is now twenty years since James Watson published his personal account of the discovery of the structure of DNA and triggered the growing scholarly study of the roots of molecular biology. Watson himself was not concerned with the study of nucleic acids before he became directly involved but at least three detailed histories of the early development of molecular biology have subsequently appeared, together with books, papers and reviews from others who took part, or their partisan representatives. Of these three histories, only one does justice to Avery's work. His surviving DNA collaborator, MacLyn McCarty, believes that only Olby in The Path to the Double Helix deals adequately with Avery's contribution.

In two conferences, separated by the space of only a few months, in September 1966 and March 1967, Giovanni Polvani—at the time president of the Domus Galilaeana—and the council of the Domus, attempted a series of operations, all ambitious and difficult. The first, and to some extent the simplest, was to gather round the Domus all those who were working in a professional role or as amateurs on the history of science. Also invited were scholars who had become involved in the discipline through the territorial or thematic nature of their particular interests (as was the case with Luigi Firpo, Cesare Vasoli and others), or who had some special relation to the history of science of a more, so to speak, extrinsic kind, people such as archivists, librarians, and so on. Secondly, the organizers wished—and here was where the difficulties began—to start up a discussion (not limited to mere theory) on what people understood the history of science to be, what its relationship was with the history of technology, of philosophy, and with cultural history in general. As hinted above, the discussion was not meant to be on abstract theoretical terms, since it was designed to serve as a premise for an even more complex project, that is to set up a centre for the training of future historians of science. As often happens, in the heat of discussing the concrete problems which were the subject of the first meeting at Pisa (the sources of the history of science, limited to Italy, and only to the fourteenth to sixteenth centuries), there emerged difficulties, various orientations, evaluations and declarations, which were both meaningful and enlightening.

Those who criticize the theory of thought-styles do admit their existence, but would rather see them as an obstacle to an “objective” perception, a kind of malum necessarium to be eliminated. Through an analysis of the example of serology it is, however, possible to demonstrate that the specific sociological structure of the community of serologists and the history of this discipline are intrinsically connected with a particular serological thought-style, and that the very content of scientific knowledge in this discipline stems from its thought-style. It is impossible even to imagine a styleless scientific knowledge.

Hugo Dingler lived from 1881 to 1954. During the academic years 1901–2 and 1903–4 he studied mathematics and physics at the University of Munich. He spent the intervening year (and then the summer of 1906) in Göttingen, where he studied mathematics with David Hilbert and Felix Klein as well as – for the first time – philosophy (with Edmund Husserl). In 1907 Dingler completed his doctorate in Munich with Aurel Voss with a dissertation on general surface deformation. His Habilitation followed in 1912, also at the University of Munich, but only for the prospectless field of “Method, Didactics and History of Mathematical Sciences.”

Although Ludwik Fleck is today recognized as one of the pioneers of the historical sociology of science, his historical and epistemological writings, most of them dating from the 1930s, long remained practically unknown. They were rediscovered following the mention of Fleck's principal work, the monograph Genesis and Development of a Scientific Fact (1935) in the preface of Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962), and thanks to the efforts of W. Baldamus (1977) and his student T. Schnelle (1982) and of the editors of the English translation of Fleck's book, R. K. Merton and T. J. Trenn. Fleck's work was studied by several scholars and was the subject of two meetings: “Colloquium Ludwik Fleck” (Hamburg, 1981) organized by L. Schaffer and T. Schnelle, and a symposium organized by R. S. Cohen (Berlin, 1984). Some of the papers presented at these meetings were published in Cohen and Schnelle 1986. Today, more than fifty years after the publication of his principal study, Fleck is on his way to becoming a “classic” of the sociology of science and of epistemology.

The article explores the reasons for the rise to prominence of Newtonian natural theology in the period following the publication of the Principia in 1687, its continued importance throughout the eighteenth and first half of the nineteenth centuries, and possible explanations for its rapid decline in the second half of the nineteenth century. It argues that the career of Newtonian natural theology cannot be explained solely in terms of internal intellectual developments such as the theology of Newton's clerical admirers or the impact of the work of Hume or of Charles Darwin. While such intellectual movements are undoubtedly of considerable importance in accounting for the rise and fall of Newtonian natural theology, they do not of themselves explain why British society was more receptive to particular bodies of thought in some periods rather than in others. Hence this article – in common with a number of recent studies – attempts to draw some connections between the growth of Newtonian natural theology and the character of Augustan society and politics; it also attempts to link the decline of this tradition with such nineteenth-century developments as the growing separation between church and state and the secularization of the universities and of scientific and intellectual life more generally.

Focusing on the celebrations of Newton and his work, this article investigates the use of the concept of genius and its connection with debates on the methodology of science and the morality of great discoverers. During the period studied, two areas of tension developed. Firstly, eighteenth-century ideas about the relationship between genius and method were challenged by the notion of scientific genius as transcending specifiable rules of method. Secondly, assumptions about the nexus between intellectual and moral virtue were threatened by the emerging conception of genius as marked by an extraordinary personality – on the one hand capable of breaking with established methods to achieve great discoveries, on the other, likely to transgress moral and social conventions. The assesments of Newton by nineteenth-century scientists such as Brewster, Whewell, and De Morgan were informed by these tensions.

In this answer to “Evolutionism as a Modern Form of Mechanicism”(SiC 2(2): 287–306) I discuss the strange double use the authors make of their reference to Kant in order to deny the relevance of far-from-equilibrium thermodynamics, and more generally, of the physical irreversibility question in the problem of evolution.

On the one hand, the authors quite legitimately use a materialist version of Kantian apriorism in the guise of “means of cognition” presupposed by any physical theory. But on the other hand, they accept a theoretical interpretation of physical irreversibility (as introduced in physics via statistical supplementary conditions) whose precise historical function was to occult the intrinsic difference between the cognitive means of dynamics and those of thermodynamics in order to promote a mechanistic unification of physics.

I thus argue that at stake is not the case of such or such a physicist transgressing the border between philosophy and natural science as defended by von Borzeszkowski and Wahsner, but rather the very interpretation of irreversibility accepted by most physicists (including von Borzeszkowski and Wahsner) since Boltzmann. In contrast, Prigogine's enterprise could be understood as an attempt to take the notion of cognitive means seriously, by approaching the problem of evolution (and not by proposing a theory of evolution) via the problem of the relevance of these means.

I conclude with comments on the strategic role Kant is still made to play today by physicists who wish to transform dissents in physical theory into philosophical ones and by philosophers who wish to judge scientists instead of trying to understand them.

The idea of evolution doubtlessly marks a revolution in our way of thinking. It is the most recent achievement of philosophy and forms the basis of the modern world picture. Current discussions concerning the status of science now convey the impression that any scientific discipline that wants to satisfy modern requirements must also become a theory of evolution. These discussions ignore the reasons which once induced Kant to desist from reformulating classical mechanics as a theory of evolution and instead to found his critical philosophy, according to which the epistemological starting points of natural science and philosophy are different in principle. In other words, there is no examination of whether the reasons given by Kant are of a principle nature so that they are still valid today, but rather, ignoring Kant's arguments, it is taken for granted that a different physical theory than classical mechanics could achieve this.

Because nonlinear thermodynamics in particular is often presented as a candidate that justifies hopes of an evolutionary physics, the position of this branch within the structure of physics will be investigated here. It will be seen that a historical component is introduced into physics via initial, boundary, and other supplementary conditions, but that this does not mean that historicity has been grasped in laws, which is of course the point of a scientific theory of development.

It is demonstrated that the conclusion drawn for physics by some authors from nonlinear thermodynamics, according to which physics today becomes an evolutionary physics incorporating the cognitive subject, is wrong. The progress made by modern thermodynamics is, without doubt, significant. The widespread philosophical interpretation of thermodynamics rests, however, on an antiquated ontologization of physical concepts and thus on the usual procedure of mechanicism.

If one tries to introduce the conception of evolution into natural science by leveling the difference between philosophy and natural science in a mechanistic manner, then the dialectical evolutionary conception which represents a new epoch of human thinking degenerates to an evolutionism, where lawfulness is replaced by accidentalness.

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.

The peculiar situation of epistemology has often been remarked upon, meaning that sort of epistemology which issued from English empiricism and whose father is taken to be John Locke. Epistemology in the general sense has existed as long as there has been scientific philosophy, and in truth it has always formed the basis and core of all scientific philosophizing.