I'm ok with living a lie

I don't really understand the concerns with the "save the phenomena" approach. While at first it sounds like a red flag to teach theories that are obviously wrong to the masses, they didn't have many options. As Kate said, early astronomers didn't have the instruments necessary to confirm their theories, so realistically they could have either a) done the best they could and believed it or b) done the best they could and admitted that it was still probably wrong. I think it's much better to acknowledge science's shortcomings openly.

Instrumentalism

I am curious about to what extent instrumentalism is still present in modern science. With instrumentalism, the value of a scientific theory is judged by its ability to account for the phenomena and the simplicity of the theory. In the modern development of theories that are impossible to test (impossible because we lack instruments precise enough to test them, etc), isn't it true that modern scientists still prefer simpler, more beautiful and more elegant theories over more complicated alternatives? Should scientists attempt to offer solutions to problems that we currently cannot test the validity of? 

Astonomy vs. Physics

"...the body of the Earth, large, sluggish and inapt for motion is not to be disturbed by movement..."
(Crowe 140 quoted from Brache)

If the Earth is too large, too sluggish for motion, how large are the other planets in Brache's system? How large are the sun and the moon? He can't think that we see the celestial bodies in real size, but they can't be very large in his mind. This kind of goes with the idea that the universe is small.

"Save the Phenomena" or save the lies?

Like many of the other posts on the blog, I was curious about the usefulness of "Save the Phenomena." It seems to have its pros and cons. On one had, it was used to emasculate Copernicus' theory, but I also think it is valid to state that in astronomy (particularly back in the days of Copernicus or Ptolemy) it was impossible to empirically prove anything when it came to astronomy because they didn't have the tools necessary, so I can see the value in making mathematical observations and trying to think about a system that would fulfill those possibilities. I was also wondering what Bacon would think of this system. After all, he was made long lists of observations but was very focused on learning the truth about the universe. Can something useful mathematically actually lead us away from the truth and deter our quest for knowledge?


P.S. I saw a statue of Tycho Brahe and he had a nose in it. I feel as though I've been lied to.

"Save the phenomena"

In regards to the previously mentioned questions about the "save the phenomena" theory, I just want to expound a bit. How much has this theory been applied in science? Does it promote a positive or negative end? At first I read the Crowe commentary on "save the phenomena" and I thought that these scientists were just fooling themselves. But now I can see "save the phenomena" might actually have a real purpose in the advancement of science. What do we think about this? How would it help science?

Does Instrumentalism Have an End?

Crowe says that the instrumentalist is not concerned with whether or not a particular hypothesis is actually true, but whether it could "saves the phenomena" (that is, adequately explain the celestial motions as they are seen from Earth). In addition, he says that the instrumentalist should value a simple explanation over one that is more complex. It seems to me, however, that little can be accomplished using this approach since it does not identify a point at which a reasonable hypothesis should be accepted as truth (even if it does value some over others). After reading Copernicus' theory, Osiander does not accept it as truthful but merely states that it is just another explanation among many. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if the instrumentalist is always saying "well it may not be true," when, if ever, does he or she come to accept some hypothesis as true? Can an instrumentalist approach still exist in the face of overwhelming evidence for a particular view?

Replying to Jared

I think it makes sense that early astronomers had little sense of the vastness of the universe. The most knowledge in science that people had in that time concerned the world around them. They had no basis for exploring the heavens other than the few theories they could posit about it. I can't say for sure because I wasn't there to know their feelings, but I feel as though it's possible that the rest of the universe was just overshadowed by scientists' curiosity and fascination in the world around them. In this sense, they may have been so intrigued by our physical world that they could not comprehend how small it really is in relation to the universe. All of the intricacies of physics and nature must have seemed so perfect and convoluted that God could not have not created the earth as the center and focus of the universe.

Why a small universe?

A common theme that I keep seeing popping up in all of the astronomical explanations and models that we discuss is the need for astronomers and philosophers to put bounds on the universe. The universe seems to always be contained within a sphere. That is fair enough, as based on what we can see from earth that makes a lot of sense. But at the same time there seems to have been an inability to accept that there could be great distances in the universe. Brahe could not accept “the absurd notion of a vast and useless vacant space between Saturn’s orbit and the starry vault” (Crowe, 140). Why not? Crowe talks in his Philosophical Interlude chapter that astronomers followed instrumentalist or realist attitudes. Why can not an instrumentalist accept this fact if it works? And why can a realist not at least allow the possibility of this explanation? There is no empirical evidence to support it, seemingly, but there is also no empirical evidence really to support their position. And on second glance, the fact that you cannot observe parallax of the stars as they move around the sun actually is evidence that there is this great vast emptiness between the planets and the stars. So what is holding people back from breaking from this bounded vision? Tradition? Religion? Something else?

PS

I do want to add that Crowe seems to stress that the choice between Ptolemy's system and Copernicus' system was based upon the 'aesthetic criteria' more than it was upon the philosophical and theological conundrums that the new system introduced. Living in the 21st century and therefore knowing of the mathematical and scientific developments that will follow and somewhat justify the Copernican system, I find the theological and philosophical implications of Copernicus' heliocentric theory more compromising than his mathematical short comings.

It's sort of a a blue pill/red pill situation.

While introducing the Copernican revolution, Crow comments that, "[Copernicus'  new theories] transformed the Earth into a planet, humans into planetarians, and stars in to suns, thereby 'infinitizing' the universe" (Crowe, 83). He than comments, "It raised deep and disturbing philosophical questions and theological issues" (83). During out visit to the planetarium on Friday, I was shocked by the reality of just how insignificant the Earth is as a planetary body in the scope of the entire universe. We are one of billions of planets in one of millions of galaxies. It is almost incomprehensible. My response to it lay somewhere between horror and awe.

As humans, we function on a day to day basis. We take exams, pay taxes, socialize, ect. Maybe some of us look at a bigger picture and make choices based on where we want to be in a year, five years, or twenty years. The things we do everyday are important to us. The goals we set for ourselves really matter to us! We are generally disappointed when we fail or fall short of our potential, or when others fail us. But if you look at our day to day lives, or our five year plans, in relation to the age and breadth of the universe, our lives seem somewhat trivial, and our actions seem trivial and our goals, which we work for in our lifetimes, look ridiculous. Why should we strive to be successful when, in the eyes of the universe, we are insignificant?

 I 100% understand why Copernicus' contemporaries struggled to except his new theories. The old theories were organized, logical and comfortable. Copernicus' new ideas were frightening.  

PS - for those who hate movies, the title of this posts references a scene in 'The Matrix'. I'm a nerd. What can I say? 

The Value of the Great Books

Reading Copernicus has really brought to my attention some of the "details" that typical history courses fail to address.  First of all, I was amazed at the philosophical influence found throughout Copernicus' work, and at how antiquated his ideas were.  I also found it interesting that his point in writing the book was not to prove the other theory wrong, but simply to offer an opposing view.

These are things that typical historical accounts of Copernicus skip over, because it is just easier to give the basics and ignore the details that complicate.  The value of a Great Books education, however, lies in reading the actual documents and viewing history from a new and more complete perspective.

Woah. Who knew?

I thought tody's trip to the planetarium was really interesting. It was helpful visually for understanding the texts and the information at the end was crazy. I thought that the comment at the end was especially interesting about why the thousands of galaxies were shaped like a bow-tie: because our galaxy is probably casting a shadow on the others and we can't see them. This got me thinking about science in general in a PLS way. What is our view of science? Do we have at least some idea of the big picture (this question kind of goes along with Andy's). Also, since we're always struggling for cohesion in science (perhaps at any price?), are we missing things, are we missing the big picture? Are we creating our own shadow and seeing things in a bow-tie shape?

In response to Andy's question....

In his post, Andy raises a good question: If Ptolemy was so convinced that his 'scientific understanding' was correct, and in fact, he was wrong, what basis do we have to believe that our current scientific understanding of the universe is anymore accurate than Ptolemy's? 

It seems as though it has not taken Physics 2000 years to identify the current problem with our conflicting understandings of the universe. String theory research attempts to compromise + combine our understanding of Macro physics with our understanding of Micro physics. The assertions of either of these theories can be legitimized through mathematics even though they are at odds with one another. The very existence of String Theory research indicates that we do not have a perfect understanding of our universe yet. 

Close enough...

In The Birth of the New Physics, Cohen writes that it is unlikely that Ptolemy actually believed that the planets moved in the complex epicycles of his model and that it was rather just a convenient way to try to predict the motion of the planets. He mentions that modern physicists do a similar thing when they must content themselves with formulas instead of the actual knowledge of how things work. So how much of our knowledge is totally theoretical and conceptual and how much can we practically prove? (since science can't technically "prove" anything as indisputable)

Simpler System

One thing that I never thought was that Copernicus' system was actually just as complicated in different ways then the Ptolemic's. I had always thought that Ptolemic's system was just overdone and manipulated to fit, but I never considered the repucussions that Copernicus's would have, would make everything so much more complicated.

Our Knowledge and the Earth as a Point

One thought that I had as I read Ptolemy relates to our own modern theories of the universe and science in general. For us reading Ptolemy's arguments that the Earth does not move--arguments such as "all objects not actually standing on the earth would appear to have the same motion, opposite that of the earth" (62)--these arguments and their results and implications seem absurd. Yet Ptolemy and others were so convinced by them. It just makes me wonder about the security of our own theories. We are so convinced by them, but perhaps 2000 years from now, people will look back on them as absurd. Can we find any assurance that our "scientific knowledge" is accurate, that is, that it reflects reality or "the way things really are"?

On another note, building off Mike's post a bit, I thought it was interesting that Ptolemy had a sense that the earth was only as a point in relation to the rest of the universe. On page 61, he says, "this great bulk of earth, when compared to the whole surrounding mass [of the universe], has the ratio of a point to it." Ptolemy, however, seems undaunted by this idea. Perhaps this is because he still believed the earth had a very specific and significant place in the universe, even if it was a very physically small one.

Ptolemy in Awe of the Universe

I have also enjoyed reading people's posts on the sky, and it seems to me that a common theme in many of these posts is a certain experience of awe that comes from looking up into the night sky.  In light of this, I felt that it was interesting that Ptolemy, despite having constructed a complex, comprehensive framework for understanding the immediate universe, seems to acknowledge that he is also in awe of the universe.  At the outset of his Almagest, he speaks of the mysterious quality of the "highest reaches of the universe" and notes their intimate relation to the divine:  "Now the first cause of the motion of the universe, if one considers it simply, can be thought of as an invisible and motionless deity; the division of theoretical philosophy concerned with investigating this can be called 'theology', since this kind of activity, somewhere up in the highest reaches of the universe, can only be imagined, and is completely separated from perceptible reality" (Crowe 50-51).  

I think it would be fair to say that despite our awareness of numerous advances with regard to knowledge of the universe, none of us would disagree with Ptolemy as he describes the universe as distinct from imaginable, "perceptible reality."

Personal vs Technical

I consider myself lucky to have grown up in a rural area where the beauty of the night stars remains unobscured. As a child, my family would take 2-3 week long camping trips where clocks and calendars were irrelevant (for me at least, my parents were undoubtedly aware of what day it was). While camping, star gazing was always one of my favorite activities, and I found space to be absolutely fascinating. I skipped school to go to Space Camp, owned a telescope, had a mini-planetarium that I would project in my closet and spent summers flying airplanes. I was truly interested in the sheer beauty of space and those moments when I seemed to be absorbed in it's enormity. For me, those moments were intimately connected with something transcendent or spiritual and had little to do with understanding the celestial motions, etc. When reading "Theories," I found it difficult to synthesize my personal experience of space with the technical one that Crowe was explaining.

Infinity

First of all, I've really enjoyed reading everyone's sky posts.
The sky, and nature in general, has always been very intriguing for me. I grew up i Columbus, Ohio, pretty much right outside of downtown, and so I could never see very many stars from my home. However, my grandparents' lakehouse was the perfect stargazing location: in the middle of northern Indiana away from any big cities. In the middle of the lake the stars are perfectly visible. I've always enjoyed looking at them and trying to pick out the constellations with my cousins.
However, as they do for almost everyone else, the stars mean something more to me than just beautiful lights in the night sky. They make me think of the infinite universe that we are living in. I love the stars. I do not love the concept of infinity. It's a concept that cannot be grasped by the human mind, and though I realize that there are many concepts beyond my grasping, this one makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't know why I'm so bothered by it exactly, but when I look at the stars I prefer to view them aesthetically and though it is the opposite of what a PLS major should do, I try not to think about the vastness that lies beyond them that is irritatingly far beyond my comprehension.

Night Sky

Growing up in New Jersey, the results of stargazing have been rather mixed for me. With all the light pollution in the metropolitan area, it is not always easy to have a clear night sky. Generally, though, if I ever took the chance to look up at the night sky, I was usually able to see a lot of different constellations. When I was younger, I used to take my Dad's telescope out into the front yard to look at some of the stars. Back then, I was only able to identify some of the most recognizable constellations like the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. I also used to look through my uncle's telescope at the night sky when I was visiting my extended family. This all happened when I was very young, though. I took a more concerted effort when I was in high school to identify some more constellations in the night sky. Some nights I would just sit on my front lawn with a book of constellations and see if I could spot them in the night sky. I was able to find several, including Cassiopeia, Orion, and Gemini. It was difficult for me to see too many others, as I've said, because of the light pollution in the Northeast. During Appalachia, though, I was able to go to West Virginia, and I spent one evening stargazing with my group, and the view was unbelievable. He were able to see the constellations with unparalleled clarity.

The Constellation Orion

Although the New Jersey night sky is more conducive to smog gazing than to star gazing, it is still easy to recognize constellations like Orion in the Garden State sky. I learned to identify Orion on Mrs. Herring's sixth grade SCIENCE class, and ever since, whenever I've taken the time to look up at the night sky, I've tried to spot the familiar constellation. 

When I am in my backyard, Orion seems to consistently hang out in the direction of my neighbor's swimming pool (actually, there is a really funny story attache to this. if you want to hear it, ask me about it in class. it's about the perils of suburban star gazing). At Notre Dame, I've noticed that the constellation seems to hover over the graveyard by the main entrance to campus. Right now, Orion is sitting relatively low in the sky, but if you look for his belt, I bet you will spot him in no time. Even in South Bend. 

The Beautiful Wisconsin Sky

I feel as though I have been blessed to have experiences opposite to those of you who are from cities. Growing up in rural Wisconsin, I was blessed to be able to experience aurora borealis numerous times, and a bright starry night seems a given to me.  Looking up at the night sky was an integral part of my childhood, as I spent much time outside with my family and at Girl Scout camp (yeah, I was awesome). My greatest experience with the sky thus came when I came to school at Notre Dame and was no longer able to count on being able to look up and see the night sky I had taken for granted.

Recognizing how special a gift it is to be able to see the stars every night from my home has truly changed how I treasure my moments outside at night.  

On a different note, I also learned how to use a sundial thanks to my great-grandfather.  Although this skill has been lost, I do remember being totally intrigued at the idea that you could tell time without a clock and wish I could still tell time using a sundial.

Astronomy throughout the ages

Having been born and raised in Mexico, I grew up reading in class about the ancient astronomical discoveries of the native tribes in Latin America before the Spanish conquest. What really amazes me is how precise and accurate their calendars have proven to be even now, several centuries after they were first compiled. I've actually visited the astronomical pyramids and seen how complex and extensive their research was. The Mayan calendar was first developed in 3114 BC and runs up to the year 2012. So far every single important celestial event foreseen in the calendar has proven correct. Not only that, even rather recent natural phenomena has been recorded in there. It's baffling.
How did such an ancient culture gather such knowledge through observing the skies? What is that link that so acutely ties man, through the centuries, with the cosmos?

I'm incredibly curious to cover how this kind of theoretical knowledge in class, and how it has been refined through the Copernican era until now.

Outer Space

One of my first “outer space” memories was the eclipse that occurred when I was in Kindergarten. I remember the teacher warning us to not look up at the sky because it could damage our eyes. It was then that I first realized the power of outer space. It made me feel incredibly small. It sounds cliché, but the stars and planets make me realize how vast the universe is and all of the infinite number of possibilities that can exist out there. I do not want to sound like I am advocating the existence of aliens, but just that the world that I know compared to the size of the universe is incredibly small. That eclipse also made me realize the power of the planets. The size of objects like the sun and the force that causes planets to move is almost unimaginable here on earth.

The Hawaii Night Sky

I think my most awe-inspiring moment of seeing the night sky came when I went to Hawaii as a kid. I'm from Cincinnati, and on a clear night there you can see only brightest and closest stars. In Hawaii, though, I was amazed in looking up at a sky that was completely covered in bright, twinkling lights. There were so many stars that I could not find the Big Dipper or any of the major constellations. It is incredible, and somewhat intimidating, to think that what I saw one those nights is only a very minute fraction of the universe. The universe has millions of galaxies each with millions of stars, and each one of those stars could have several planets revolving around it. I know this is very cliche, but thinking about such vastness makes me realize my immense insignificance in the overall scope of the universe.

Man's participation in the stars

The thing that I always found the most interesting about the night sky was man’s quest to explore it. As a kid I used to love to hear about how NASA was actually entering space and I thought going to the moon was the coolest thing. You could see the stars and think about how beautiful and awe-inspiring they are, but then you think about how man can actually measure all that, bring mathematics to bear upon it, and even go up their themselves. Beyond my own interest, there is even a whole branch of fiction, tv shows, and movies that try to comprehend what it would be like to enter into the heavens and imagine what life would be like upon the template of the stars. Man becomes the only creature on earth that can look up at the stars and think: “Whoa.” And further we gain more information about it all the time through scientific investigation. So I guess the best part of the stars for me is the fact that the human race can feel like an active explorer, studier of, and participant in something so beyond us.

Starry Night

I actually have kept track of time by the stars. Not so much by the stars, I guess, but by the moon. This summer, I was working at a sleep-away summer camp in Kansas, outside the small town of Williamsburg, which is about 45 minutes south of metropolitan Kansas City, Kansas. Basically, it's in the middle of nowhere, and you can see the most beautiful night sky I've ever seen. That's counting the night sky in the middle of the desert and at the Grand Canyon. (You can also see a killer sunset, better than a sunset over the Grand Canyon or over the Pacific, but that's another matter. You might not guess it, but Kansas is a really beautiful place.) Anyhow, I definitely kept track of time by the phases of the moon. The camp was kind of like a retreat, so each group of kids only stayed for one week (a week is actually pretty long for a retreat, especially for 7th and 8th graders). We were always on a strict hour-minute time clock day-by-day, but day of the month never really mattered much. We could tell you what day of the week it was, cause the kids showed up on Monday and left on Saturday, but no one could ever keep weeks straight because the date didn't really matter. However, a couple of weeks into the summer, we realized that we could figure out what week it was based on the phases of the moon. We would remember when the last time we had a full moon was (cause the starts weren't quite as good) and when we had a new moon (you'd have to remember a flashlight and the stars were spectacular). That gave us a general idea of what week it was in the month. I've become much more aware of the moon at least even after coming home from camp. I wouldn't say I tell time by it, but it's definitely something that I feel present to at this point.

Also, can we go over the difference between the sidereal period and the synodic peroid of the moon? And the difference between the synodic period of a planet and the zodiacal period?

(Sorry for the somewhat long post. Talking about camp is one of my favorite things.)

What? Stars?

It's interesting that we are studying the night sky in a place where it almost never gets dark. There is always this eerie orange glow (pollution?) that masks the stars in South Bend. Like Andrea said, the night sky is seldom given much thought when you are young and alive and busy, but at Notre Dame you don't even have a choice to watch the stars and ponder.

Though I don't do much star watching here, my most memorable experience was in high school when my family and I went on a sailing trip. We lived on a sailboat for a week and rather than sleep in the stuffy hull, I would spend my nights on the deck of the boat. Not only was I rocked to sleep by the waves as I gazed at the most perfect view of the stars that I ever hope to have in my life, but several times during the night I would have to get up and take cover as it rained for a few minutes. The stars and the ocean were just so overwhelming that I felt connected with the world around me and didn't care if I was occasionally woken up by rain. At Notre Dame, I get frustrated when the humidity messes up my hair.

Night sky

The night sky is certainly awe-inspiring, yet I feel as though it is harder to appreciate when living in a city, which has so many distractions. The stars are harder to see and one feels so much farther away from nature. It's as though they don't have much bearing on our lives besides a passing interest. Professor Goulding's question about whether we have ever measured our time with the celestial bodies as opposed to clocks got me thinking. We live every day according to a number on the clock, when measured time was actually originally derived from the movements of the celestial bodies. I can't imagine ever just relying on the phases of the moon or the earth's rotation to measure my life. Our lives are so busy that we just stick to numbers on the calendar, and this is how we mark special events. We know people's birthdays, for instance, by numbers, but we don't really bother to know what it means in terms of the celestial bodies.

Reflections on Stars

I have had a few personal experiences when I was out in the country and able to see the stars well at night. It really is an overwhelming and awe-inspiring sight. The first thing that struck me was just how many stars there are. It gives new life to the old phrase "as numerous as the stars." But the sheer beauty and grandeur of the night sky lit up with stars is amazing. It isn't hard to understand why they were the subject of so much study and thought. Thinking about Rob's post about scale, I am almost startled to think about the size of the universe. How small we are compared to the earth, which is tiny compared to the sun, which is minuscule compared to the rest of the universe. And if I may be allowed to be a bit theological, it is amazing to think that God loves each one of us so much, and yet we are so small and seemingly insignificant in the universe. Also while reading the first chapter and trying to imagine the interactions of the planets in our solar system, I found myself thinking that there must have been an intelligent designer involved in creation. How could this have been just an accident?

Scale

Reflecting on Professor Goulding's posts I guess the thing I think about most when looking at the sky, especially the night sky, is how great and grand our universe is. We go through the everyday dealing with petty problems and concerns, achieving accomplishments which are important for us, and suffering with difficult defeats. While these are usually all that occupy our minds, reflecting on the grandiose of the universe brings our lives back into perspective. The seemingly momentous problems we deal with everyday become unimportant, and personally, it allows me to keep my problems and my life in persective.

Three viewpoints

I think Kate brings out a great point. These three viewpoints (scientific, philosophical, and historical) are what make the study of astronomy (as a liberal art) applicable to our discussion in PLS and this course. I always thought it was amazing that the ancient indigenous tribes of North America had invented such tools as a calendar just by looking at the stars.

Besides that historical context, I think many of the philosophical proofs for God we have encountered in PLS take into account some of these majestic works of nature. The interaction of the stars, the planets, and the sun have always for me been a great mystery.

The Sky

I have always been impressed and interested by the night sky. I think Professor Goulding is right about how overwhelming and grand the stars can be for us and how they must have been every night for the ancient philosophers and scientists. Unfortunately, very few people get to experience the stars in this sense because so few of us can get far away enough from city lights. Two experiences with the night sky stand out in my memory. One, was several years ago when I saw the aurora borealis (which I originally thought was a forest fire). This was truly awe-inspiring but less applicable to this conversation because it is a rather uncommon phenomenon. My second experience was actually just this summer. I was in a tiny town in southern Argentina where they are miles and miles away from any city lights. The stars, with or without the moon, were so bright that you could literally go hiking or walking just by their light. Naturally, I took advantage of this and on one of my many outings to appreciate the abundance and close proximity of nature in this area, one of the locals began to give me a small history lesson on the stars of the southern hemisphere (it is truly striking how different their night sky is). We talked about the southern cross which was used for centuries in navigation. There was something about being in that underdeveloped town and seeing that night sky which was overwhelmingly big and full of stars that caused me to face the extent and grandeur of the cosmos. I realized that the stars were both a catalyst for philosophical discussion and a necessary tool for human survival.

Reflections on the Sky

Sorry about that last post, somehow I made a typo when I was entering the title and I unintentionally published it. If anyone knows how to delete a post and wants to tell me, I would be glad to get rid of it. Actually, it appears that the accidental post is all gone, aside from a large blank space where it once was. Anyway, here is what I was going to say.

I can remember gazing up into the heavens various times throughout my life, particularly when I have been in more northern, less densely-populated parts of my home state of Arizona. Unfortunately, I cannot recall any specific instances, but I do remember observing various astronomical events, such as the passing of comets, etc. during my childhood. Nevertheless, it is interesting to me that I probably spent just as much time observing the launching of space shuttles and other vehicles and instruments of science when visiting family in Florida. Perhaps this speaks to the increasing prevalence of humanity's quest to harness and further understand the natural world, a goal which continues to extend into the heavens.

Three Viewpoints

In the introduction, Crowe claims that there are three ways one can view his work: scientifically, philosophically, and historically. What prompts human beings to initially look up at the sky (science, folklore/culture, awe, faith, etc.) may vary, but in my opinion, these three viewpoints are connected and interrelated. What about the "heavenly sphere" encourages thought in these varying fields?

Lab materials for Friday

Attached are the instructions for Friday's lab, which starts at 2 pm. Printed copies of this will be available tomorrow at the lab itself.

Note that the 9:30 section should go to room 221, and the 10:45 section to room 214.

See you all tomorrow.

Lab materials

Next Monday's reading

The reading for Monday is a no-frills presentation of the basic astronomical phenomena, as they can be seen with the naked eye. (The visit to the Planetarium next Friday will help to make these more vivid). Please read the chapter carefully, noting anything that you find difficult and in need of discussion in Monday's class. You should also attempt all of the problems that Crowe scatters through the chapter, to ensure that you are making sense of the material. I'll work through some of the problems in class, and will expect your input.

It may seem arbitrary to trace the history of science via planetary astronomy. In part, we do this because it is a standard approach to the history of science, for which there are many resources. There are also historical reasons: the history of science as a discipline was pioneered in the nineteenth century by astronomers and mathematicians, who left a lasting stamp on the shape of the standard narratives of scientific development. Also, other Great Books programs -- the pioneering program at the University of Chicago, and that of St John's College -- built their scientific curricula around mathematics and astronomy; to some extent, we are following in their footsteps.

But there are much deeper reasons for turning to the heavens. We inhabitants of the urban western world have all but lost contact with the sky. At night, we see no more than a handful of stars; and we hardly make a connection anymore between the seasons and the appearance and disappearance of stars. From day to day, and night to night, many of us never even raise our eyes towards the heavens.

Yet if you have ever seen the night sky from the desert, or mountains, you will know just how overwhelming it can be. We have to remember that, for most of our ancestors, this was their experience every night. It is little exaggeration to say that the night sky imposed itself upon ancient scientists as their primary field of study. For them, as well, the relationship between the changing stars and the shifting seasons (and between the movement of the planets and terrestrial events -- what we would now call astrology) was of vital importance.

So, in blog posts this week, I would like you to reflect upon your own relationship with the sky. For instance, can you recall moments when you felt something like the same awe that the ancients held? Or are there astronomical events that have had a particular significance for you? Do you ever measure out time, or your life, by the sun, moon or stars, rather than by clocks and calendars?

I don't really know what kinds of answers any of you will have for these questions, and I look forward to finding out. We'll talk about some of them on Monday and Wednesday; I hope that, collectively, we can build up a sense of the significance of the sky, and will gain a clearer picture of why the course is striking out in this particular direction.

Really?

According to Bacon, we must challenge Aristotle, and certainly not take his word to be truth without a thorough personal introspective look on the subject. It seems to me that Aristotle's arguments seem very straightforward to us: i.e. if a body is heavier, it falls more quickly through a liquid substance. I'm sure there is something to be learned from the past, but to be very broad and skeptical: is there really something to be learned from past scientific inquiries which seem common sensical to us or have been proven many times? Or in the case of those that have been overturned, such as a stationary earth as was discussed by Cohen, is it worth pursuing a subject that is so readily dismissed?

Cause of motion

Aristotle says that "everything that is in motion must be moved by something" (241b). This question is mostly a point of clarification. Does that allow for something to be moved by itself? Can something contain within itself the principle necessary for motion? Does Aristotle mean that everything that is in motion must be moved by something else? If he does, how does the idea of a first movent fit into this? Is the first movent itself in motion?

It seems to me that the first movent would have to be at rest because if the first movent itself is in motion, then it would need something to put it into motion. However, it is the first movent, and therefore, it does not have anything to put it into motion. On the other hand, I don't see how something can put something else into motion while being at rest, because putting something else into motion is a process of motion itself.

Is Ignorance Shameful?

As I read I. Bernard Cohen's "The Birth of a New Physics," I was reminded in some ways of Snow's "Two Cultures" lecture. Snow asserts that a literary man's inability to recite the Second Law of Thermodynamics would be just as reprehensible as a scientist's inability to relate who Shakespeare was. In other words, the literary man and the scientist should, at least, have a basic understanding of each other's area of study. Similarly, Cohen states that "for scientists of the past the inability to to answer these questions [regarding motion] were a sign of the times, whereas for moderns such inability is, alas, a badge of ignorance." Moreover, he argues that "unless you can see your way clearly through these problems without a moment's thought, you do not really live modern physics in its fullest, and for you the statement that the earth rotates upon its axis once in 24 hours cannot actually have its full physical meaning." I am not sure if Cohen is directing these statements solely towards the professional scientist, but with regard to the casual scientist [that is, people like us] they seem a bit harsh to me. The fact that past experiments have clearly established the laws of motion does not mean that they are, or necessarily have to be, universally known and understood by all. There are many reasons why a modern man would not be unfamiliar with these precepts, and such a man's "badge of ignorance" would not necessarily reflect a foolish or stubborn attitude on his part. Furthermore, a modern man's inability to understand these ideas "without a moment's thought" does not necessarily mean that that man can never "really live modern physics to its fullest." The laws of motion and of thermodynamics are not easy to understand, which is why it took so long for scientists to articulate them in the first place. Thus, it is perfectly acceptable for one to wrestle with these laws even though he/she knows them to be true, and failing to grasp them without any hesitation does not mean that such a person will be forever unable to grasp the "full physical meaning" of the earth's rotation on its axis. This was simply my initial reaction after reading Cohen's opening chapter, and I realize that I may be reading a little too much into it. I'm open to any thoughts/interpretations.

Bacon - Science and Religion

"By that time six or seven days were spent, and I was fallen into acquaintance with a merchant of that city, whose name was Joabin. He was a Jew and circumcised, for they have some few families of Jews yet remaining among them, whom they leave to their own religion. . . . But yet setting aside these Jewish dreams, the man was a wise man, and learned, and of great policy, and excellently seen in the laws and customs of that nation." (New Atlantis, 257-258)

"'We have certain hymns and services, which we say daily, of praise and thanks to God for his marvelous works, and form of prayers, imploring his aid and blessing for the illumination of our labors and the turning of them into good and holy uses.'" (268).

In the New Atlantis, Bacon draws a clear link between science and religion. In the closing lines of the New Atlantis, the Representative of the Solomon House states that they praise God and thank him for the scientific discoveries that they make everyday. For the residents of Bensalem, scientific discoveries are an important insight into the mind of God. Interestingly, however, in the modern world, there is almost a divorce of science and religion. As a matter of fact, the common belief of the Western world is that science and religion are antagonistic entities. My question is twofold. Does Bacon assert a concept of science that is inherently Thomistic? For Aquinas, reason and faith ultimately agree. For Bacon, in the New Atlantis, at least, scientific discoveries uncover truths of the divine. My second question regards the Joabin. Why does Bacon choose to insert a Jew on a Christian island, and why does he choose Joabin to answer some of the questions of the sailors about the island?

Scientific ethics

Pesic's Labyrinth states "Bacon relies on what is most revered and 'natural' to moderate the disorienting effects or altering nature" and that "he aniticipates an alliance [of science] with Christian humanism" which would "weaken if Christianity or classical learnign were to decay." pg. 55

In The New Atlantis, Bacon describes rather radical forms of experimentation, using"poisons and other medicins upon [animals]" to "find means to make commixtures and copulations of different kinds" pg. 263.

What is this 'natural' standard by which scientists are to define what is acceptable or not in terms of modifying nature and its creatures? And who is in charge of establishing it? It seems the humanism Bacon relies on to solve the ethical and moral questions on experimentation is rather unsteady ground, depending on the shift of social thought. It seems that this kind of experimentation is endorsed by the divine, according to the legend of how the New Atlantis developed, but where does Bacon draw the line on what forms of experimentation are acceptable or not? And where would he expect others to draw it? What happens if Christian humanism does decay?

New Atlantis as Myth

We have discussed several times how Bacon's view of myth goes back and forth.  We haven't discerned whether or not he wants us to study myth as a testimony of truths that people knew when they lived closer to nature or whether Bacon doesn't take myths seriously after all.

Given that Bacon is constantly reminding us how much work he has to do in so little time and how important it is to him that we read as much of his work as is possible before he dies, I wonder if Bacon wrote "The New Atlantis" as a contemporary myth that we the interpreters may study just as Bacon studied the Greek myths.  If so, why was it so important to him to write a myth instead of an analytic or technical piece like "Preparative?"  Is it because he does believe in the power of myth in scientific study?

Sarcastic or sincere?

Last class, we briefly discussed how literally we can interpret Bacon's writings since many of his claims/references/examples appear to be either a) exceedingly arrogant b) exceedingly pious c) exceedingly bizarre. In The New Atlantis, we encounter fresh examples of Bacon's may/may not be sarcasm:

For example, the tale of how Christianity came to Bensalem is outlandish to the point at which there could not be a scientific cause for floating pillars of light and lost texts of knowledge. Is Bacon mocking the supernatural powers Christians accredit to religion?

Later on, when introducing Joabin's character, Bacon comments that this 'good' Jew, "would ever acknowledge that Christ was born of a Virgin, and that he was more than a man. And he would tell how God made him ruler of the Seraphims who guard his throne" (Bacon 257-258). Is Bacon seizing this as an opportunity to point out some of the more far fetched (from the viewpoint of science) beliefs of Christians? Or is he serious?

I am leaning towards sarcasm, but I am not one hundred percent convinced. Thoughts?

Marriage and Virtue in New Atlantis

This is partly in response to Kate's post. I was having similar concerns with Bacon's conception of society in the New Atlantis. I don't quite understand how the initiation of his scientific method could provide the backbone for a society so perfect in many other respects.

As Kate mentioned in her post, the absence of eros in marriage was a problem for me. It seemed like the people of Bensalem were very mechanical (scientific in a sense). They did not seem concerned with people ruled by emotion. For example, they do not have the "depraved custom of infidelities, and the delight in meretricious embracements" (259) so rampant in Europe.

So on one hand, we have Bacon proposing that if his scientific method were implemented in an isolated (yet connected) society such as Bensalem, then the scientists could understand and predict nature. He writes, "And we do also make predictions of diseases, plagues, swarms of hurtful creatures, scarcity, tempests, earthquakes, great floods, comets, temperature of the year, and diverse other things, and we give counsel thereupon what the people shall do for the prevention of remedy of them" (268). On the other hand, the scientific backbone of the society seems to control the emotions and passions of the very citizens, so that they cannot help but be virtuous.

For me, then, two questions arise:
1. Is Bacon serious? Does he really think that these would be the effects of the implementation of his scientific method in an "uncorrupted" society?
2. If he is serious, can we now agree that he is a bit arrogant to assume that the implementation of his scientific method would bridle the passions of human nature?

Dark side of Bacon's method?

My question is about what the significance is of the description the governor of Bensalem gives about the downfall of the original Atlantis. Bacon calls the kingdoms of Atlantis “mighty and proud kingdoms in arms, shipping, and riches” (250). They were so proud and rich that they undertook great expeditions of conquest that failed, and they were finally crushed altogether by what he calls “the Divine Revenge” (251). Is this done for the reasons Pesic gives as arrogance and aggressiveness leading for the downfall, or is there something more?

I find it interesting that Bacon specifically says the ancient sources were wrong and what Plato described as an earthquake destroying Atlantis was actually a flood or deluge. Is this significant symbolically in that the Atlanteans were inundated in their own desire for more technology and knowledge? Is there a dark side of Bacon’s method that can go wrong and that needs to be avoided and feared?

Custom and Hierarchy

I would like to pose a discussion that is rather general. I found the sheer amount and the incredible intricacy of custom, practices, rituals, hierarchy etc. very interesting. I don't know if I was expecting to see a sparser lifestyle with a larger focus on all men having access to the knowledge of nature. Why isn't this picture more democratic? Why do these officials get to pick and choose what the people get to know and use? What does this presence of custom and ritual tell us about their place in the world of science and in a community dedicated to revealing nature? Is this depiction just a result of the fact that Bacon lived in a world of ceremony, monarchy, and intrigue?

Pesic's Authority

At the beginning of chapter 5 of Labyrinth he says that the author's ship in the beginning of New Atlantis was wrecked. This is obviously not the case. They were running out of provisions. This is a small and seemingly unimportant mistake. Except that it is obvious, this made me thing of what kind of authority he has. One thing that I now call into suspect is his reason why the island is underpopulated, because I don't remember the author really mentioning the island was self-sufficient. But I now have a hard time trusting everything Pesic says.

Science as the New Religion

My concerns regarding what exactly Bacon meant by the combination of science and Christianity are similar to those expressed by Peter. In the New Atlantis, the Father of Solomon's house that visits Bensalem seems to be only a glorified scientist. Both scientific and religious descriptions of the Father abound. Bacon insinuates throughout that science and Christianity can compliment one another, and with this I would agree. Bacon, however, believes that all of science's frontiers need to be investigated and broken, violently if necessary. Is their nothing in nature that science should not hold as sacred, as not able to be investigated? Christianity, at least today, holds that their should be some limits to scientific inquiry (cloning, gene splicing, etc.). What would Bacon say about these limits? To me, it seems, that he would disregard them.

A comment on literary style...

I suppose Leavis' little rant on the Two Cultures is still in the back of my mind, but as I was reading The New Atlantis, I was very aware of the unidentified narrator. I know that this work is incomplete to an extent, but I was surprised by how Bacon just plunges into the action at the beginning with no background information. We don't know who the Strangers are or where they come from (although we can assume they are christians from somewhere in Europe). This work reminded me a lot of Gulliver's Travels, with the difference being that we know a lot more about who Gulliver is. Do you think that we are supposed to assume that Bacon is identifying himself as the narrator? Or do you think that Bacon deliberately left the narrator ambiguous in order to shift the focus of the work to the inhabitants of Bensalem?

Bacon on Science and Christianity

Bacon and Pesic (in commenting on Bacon's New Atlantis) emphasize continually the alliance of science and Christianity. Pesic says on p. 50, "Bacon expected that classical and Christian learning would continue to flourish, and he depended on them as the foundations of humane sensibility. He would have been amazed how both have languished." What is it exactly that Bacon thinks that Christianity supplies science that it cannot provide for itself, and what would the intellectual divergence of scientists and theologians mean for Bacon?

Marriage in the New Atlantis

One of the virtues that Bacon emphasizes in his ideal people is chastity of mind, but Pesic blames this virtue as the cause of the diminution of the birthrate: "Both the Besalemites and the Europeans face the same problem, for different reasons: a diminution of the birth rate. In the case of Europe, this is the result of excessive eros channeled to debauchery, while in Bensalem, eros is absorbed by the chaste raptures of science" (Pesic, 53).

In my opinion, this hypothesis is supported by the passage concerning preparation for marriage which lacks the eros/passion one would expect from individuals getting married: "I have read in a book of one of your men [Thomas More] of a Feigned Commonwealth, where the married couple are permitted before they contract, to see one another naked. This they dislike, for they think it a scorn to give a refusal after so familiar knowledge, but because of many hidden defects in men and women's bodies, they have a more civil way, for they have near every time a couple of pools (which they call Adam and Eve's pools), where it is permitted to one of the friends of the man and antoher of the friends of the woman to see them bathe naked" (Bacon, 260). If the New Atlantis were a real place, this overly controlled sexual desire might prove to be problematic. Does Bacon really address this problem? Why is it included in _The New Atlantis_? What implications does adopting Bacon's experimental method have in this society?

The Feast of the Family

Bacon's New Atlantis is obviously intended to offer a view of what his new system of science could produce.  This is seen throughout the story and especially in the description of the House of Solomon. One part of the story, however, seems slightly out of place to me.

Bacon has an extended discussion about the Feast of the Family. At first I thought that this was an extension of his ideas on how religion should shape the society, in the way of family values.  It seems, however, that there is something else going on here. At one point the narrator says, "I had never heard of a solemnity wherein nature did so preside." What is the meaning of this quote and how can it help us understand why the description of this feast takes up almost 4 pages of Bacon's lifetime of work.

God-fearing Scientists

As I read Bacon's New Atlantis, I was at times overwhelmed by references to "strangers" and the unrelenting, caring attentiveness toward them demonstrated by the citizens of Besalem.  While it may be a result of their wariness of outside influences, I think that it may also be rooted in religion and a fear of the divine, in the same manner as the Greeks' regard for strangers.  After all, the people of Bensalem seem to be fervently religious without exception.

There is no doubt that Bacon's aspirations for his new science, as related in this myth, are ambitious:  "The End of our Foundation is the knowledge of Causes and secret motions of things; and enlarging of the bounds of Human Empire, to the effecting of all things possible" (Bacon 261).  Nevertheless, it seems that his fictional citizens' religious fervor and favorable treatment of strangers, and consequent fear of God, are an example of the fact that Bacon does not want to overhaul society as a whole.  Rather, he seeks to bring about change with regard to methods of scientific inquiry, as well as the way that science functions and the role that it plays within society.

In Bacon's Grip

For the past several classes we have debated in class the relative merits of Snow's and Bacon's attitudes towards progress and science, and as PLS majors there have been many dissenting voices championing the cause of the liberal arts. On page 79 Bacon discusses the importance of experimentation saying "the subtlety of experiments is far greater than that of the sense itself, even when assisted by exquisite instruments ... To the immediate and proper sense therefore I do not give much weight; but I contrive that the office of the sense shall be only to judge of the experiment, and that the experiment itself shall judge of the thing."

The point I want to make in this post is that however much we criticize Bacon's view of science, think he is arrogant, or dismiss his ideas of conquering nature, we must admit how profoundly our culture is affected by them already. What is the driving the investments on Notre Dame's campus? Research, Research, Research. What will make Notre Dame move up in the US news and world report rankings? Research. So what should every good student do? Research. Through our current form of education it looks like we have taken up Bacon's task whether we know it, like it, or not.

Republic of Bacon?

Bacon lays out a detailed description for his "reconstruction of the sciences" in his Great Instauration and the New Organon, but just how realistic is it of him to do this? He speaks at one point about how "no doubt the greatest wits in each successive age have been forced out of their own course, men of capacity and intellect above the vulgar having been fain, for reputation's sake, to bow to the judgment of the time and the multitude" (70). He also states that "these mediocrities and middle ways so much praised, in deferring to opinions and customs, turn to the great detriment of the sciences" (71). But just how "naked" can the mind truly become or revert to? Can we shut out the aspects of humanity that mold and shape us? Can we get out from under our own human constraint as he hopes to do with nature, which is "under contraint and vexed; that is to say, when by art and the hand of man she is forced out of her natural state, and squeezed and molded" (82)? Is this just an ideal, a Plato's Republic?

Bacon: Pro Science AND Pro Human...as long as those humans seek to progress

In "The Two Cultures?: The Significance of C.P. Snow", Leavis worries (although less articulately than we would like) that Snow's science of The Future will explicitly focus on progress while neglecting the humanity of humanity. Leavis may have felt more comfortable with the idea of 'science' had he read Bacon. Throughout the text, Bacon complements the ingenuity of humanity, saying things such as (the opening line of the preface to The Great Instauration), "It seems to me that men do not rightly understand either their store or their strengths, but overrate the one and underrate the other" (68). Bacon feels that science should serve humanity as opposed to the future Leavis imagines in which humanity becomes a slave of science. 

Than again, Bacon has some criticisms for the 'intellectuals' as well accusing them and their interpretation of Aristotelian science to have been "fruitful of controversies but barren of works" (71).  

Two Streams

On page 88 in The New Organon, Bacon distinguishes between "two streams and two dispensations of knowledge," namely, one focused on the cultivation of knowledge and one on the invention of knowledge. He states that these two "streams" do not oppose each other, but rather are inextricably weaved together. After reading this, I was surprised to discover that while Bacon believes both streams are necessary for harmony, he also seems to believe that one is more worthwhile than the other. After dismissing the cultivators of knowledge with a short wish of good luck, he makes a passionate call to all men "not content to rest in and use the knowledge which has already been discovered" to join together "as true sons of knowledge" and work towards better understanding nature. My question: can knowledge be separated into the two streams that Bacon suggests, and if it can, is one stream of knowledge more worthwhile, or more true than the other?

a more perfect use of the human mind

In The Great Instauration, page 73, Bacon Writes: "In like manner the discoveries of which have been hitherto made in the arts and the sciences are such as might be made by practice, meditation, observation, argumentation--for they lay near to the senses and immediately beneath common notions--but before we can reach the remoter and more hidden parts of nature, it is necessary that a more perfect use and application of the human mind and intellect be introduced."
What kind of development of the mind is Bacon referring to? Is he suggesting some sort of evolution of the mind that will come about through time, or can this application be brought about through conscious practice and concerted efforts?

Pure and Uncorrupted Natural Knowledge

In Bacon’s humble “salutary admonitions,” we encounter a conflict with C.P. Snow’s assertion that scientists must provide the definitive moral compass. In class, we discussed that Bacon’s position seems to abandon morality, leaving the judge of character to God. In The Great Instauration, Bacon interprets the naming of the animals by Adam as “pure and uncorrupted natural knowledge,” whereas the “ambitious and proud desire or moral knowledge to judge of good and evil,” caused man to rebel against God (75). Does Bacon believe that one can pursue the entirety of natural knowledge without regard to morality? Does he believe that the divine presence in his quest will be the moral guide?

Two short but hopefully important questions about Bacon's philosophy

Bacon believes we can have "certain and demonstrable knowledge" (89) and he also says that "all depends on keeping the eye steadily fixed upon the facts of nature and so receiving their images simply as they are. For God forbid that we should give out a dream of out own imagination for a pattern of the world" (84-85). My question is simply, is this really possible to know things simply as they are? Why can bacon make this claim?

Secondly, what are the implications of leaving behind philosophy as we know it and engaging in a mindset that operates "as if by machinery" (87)?

Bacon's Experiments of Light

In the _Great Instauration_, Bacon encourages his new scientists to "consider what are the true ends of knowledge, and that they seek it not either for pleasure of the mind, or for contention, or for superiority to others, or for profit, or fame, or power, or any of these inferior things, but for the benefit and use of life, and that they perfect and govern it in charity" (Bacon, 75). Through much of Bacon's work, Bacon's attitude seems to support Pesic's interpretation that true science involves a love of science instead of a cold, aggressive mastery. Indeed, Bacon claims that we become most godlike when we pursue science, solely for the sake of science: "[Experimenting] has sought, I say, experiements of Fruit, not experiments of Light; not imitating the divine procedure, which in its first day's work created light only and assigned to it one entire day; on which day it produced no material work, but proceeded to that on the days following" (Bacon, 72). In my opinion, the ancient philosophers advocate this love knowledge.

What exactly is the roll of ancient philosophy and philosophers in Bacon's new philosophy? What kind of foundation is necessary for Bacon's scientific method? Is Bacon's educational structure similar to Snow's or Gilbert's suggestion? Or is he a mixture of both?

Philo vs. Mechanical Arts

In the preface of the Great Instauration, Bacon voices his disgust with the progression (or lack thereof) of philosophy. Ironically enough, in a volume entitled "Selected Philosophical Works," Bacon argues that every new philosopher makes no significant contributions to the field. He says that they conform unquestioningly to set precedents, create a new -yet still faulty- philosophy, or are so busy discussing abstract ideas that they never even come to a conclusion. In contrast, he praises the mechanical arts, which he says "are continually growing and becoming more perfect." Because these arts have a physical aim, he says, their progress is tangible.

Is it really fair to compare the evolution of philosophy and the mechanical arts by using the same standard, however? Perhaps it is simply the nature of philosophy to be ambiguous. In the mechanical sciences, ambiguity would be seen as a flaw, whereas in philosphy this element nearly defines most inquiries and, indeed, the subject matter of philosophy itself. Yes, philosophical theories are varied and often eccentric, but could they be any other way?

The Arrogance of Francis Bacon

Sir Francis Bacon seems to me to be one of the most arrogant authors that we read over the course of our PLS education. After a thorough reading of the New Organon in Seminar IV and a re-reading of the preface to both the Great Instauration and The New Organon, I once again struggle with the authority Bacon gives himself. To begin with, he is writing a "New Organon," that will override the work of Aristotle. As he writes, "There as but one course left, therefore, to try the whole thing anew upon a better plan, and to commence a total reconstruction of sciences, arts, and all human knowledge raised upon the proper foundations" (66).

Now I will give Bacon lots of credit: his critiques of Aristotle are right on and his new methodology combats some of the weaknesses of Aristotle. But he seems to incorporate many fragments of knowledge not at all obtained from his method of induction. For example, if we look at his Natural History that is spelled out in the Preparative, he seems quite confident of his three divisions of Generations, Pretergenerations, and Arts. My question, then, proceeds from this organization: Bacon obviously begins to outline a very length, ornate project for himself. He believes himself capable of answering all these questions of natural history if he only has the time and resources necessary. But does he develop a system accessible to everyone? In relation back to the two cultures, does he develop a methodology only accessible to the tedious experimenter?

Does Science Need God?

In the preface of "The Great Instauration," Bacon says that his new method of inquiry will allow the human intellect to be "raised and exalted and made capable of overcoming difficulties and obscurities of nature." This statement seems to imply that human reasoning, properly applied, will eventually be able to unlock all the secrets of nature and thus assert his control over it. However, at the very end of the preface, Bacon prays that God will "vouchsafe to endow the human family with new mercies." I interpret "new mercies" to mean new knowledge, which would mean that the human intellect is ultimately dependent on God for coming to a complete understanding of nature. I am simply wondering to what extent Bacon believed that human beings needed the help of the divine to understand the world around them. Is his new method an absolute means to attaining such understanding, or does man still need God to tie up loose ends and aid him in this endeavor? Thoughts? On a side note, I was struck by a statement that Bacon makes at the beginning of the "Preparative." With regard to attaining a completely comprehensive natural history, Bacon admits that it would be difficult for him to write about such things that a mechanic or a sailor might be more knowledgeable about. However, his next statement is certainly eye-opening: "But I hold it to be somewhat beneath the dignity of an undertaking like mine that I should spend my own time in a matter which is open to almost every man's industry." Throughout the preface of "The Great Instauration," Bacon seems very concerned with appearing humble to his readers. This statement, however, seems exceedingly arrogant, as it implies that the work he is doing is not "open to almost every man's industry" and therefore raises him to a higher level than everyone else. I may be misunderstanding Bacon in this regard, but this statement was somewhat shocking to me after Bacon had tried so hard not to seem conceited and arrogant.

Science and Wonder

"Although Bacon did not perform significant experiments or formulate great theories, I will give him center stage. He foresaw a new engagement with nature, and was the trumpeter who summoned others to battle. As herald, he sounded crucial messages concerning what science should be . . . Reaching into antiquity, Bacon found depths that foreshadow the scientific quest into the depths of Nature. Reaching toward the future, he used the myth of Atlantis to evoke a new world. His writings are the mirror in which the enigmatic birth of modern science may best be seen "(Pesic 4-5).

Bacon clearly transformed the methodology and even the direction of science. No longer was nature something merely to be observed; rather, man should manipulate nature and drive optimistically into the future to accumulate knowledge about the world. Throughout human history, philosophy, and even theology, has held a monopoly on the explanation of both natural and human phenomena. With the rise of experimentation and testing, science has stepped up and taking its place as a primary investigator of natural phenomena. With the rise of science and experimentation, although optimistic and progressive, isn't there a sense of the loss of wonder? My question is twofold. By using the language of mythology, Bacon charges the quest of science for knowledge. Is Bacon too optimistic on what science can attain? Secondly, how cautious should we be when we proceed with science? More specifically, doesn't science ultimately reduce the world to shallow explanations and removes the mystery and wonder?

A time before illusions?

Pesic speaks of the need for a trial and refinement for seekers before they can be able to question nature rightly. He says: “Their sensibilities must be scourged of common human “knowledge drenched in flesh and blood”; they must achieve a kind of chastity immune to the seductions of mere appearances” (Pesic, 31). Bacon is looking for a process to “deliver the mind from its illusions” (Pesic, 32), which must have been accumulated over time. So then why does Bacon choose to use myths and parables as his means of communicating ideas when they would seem to be like those illusions and corrupting the message? In Bacon’s preface, he asserts that by using these parables, Bacon seems to be trying to return to a time before corruption had crept upon man. He says on page 608: “when the inventions and conclusions of human reason were as yet new and strange, the world was full of all kinds of fables, and enigmas, and parables, and similitudes: and these were used not as a device for shadowing and concealing the meaning, but as a method of making it understood…for as hieroglyphs came before letters, so parables came before arguments” (608). According to Bacon people then only cared about what appeared to the senses. The parables are then the most naked description of these important ideas. So Bacon is trying to avoid the myths and illusions that corrupt our understanding by returning to a time before we had to consider them at all. Is this the method to his seeming madness of messing with all these myths? He is not being tongue-in-cheek, but instead he is being a believer (perhaps idealist) in the idea that the human state-of-nature is good and uncorrupted by society like a Rousseau?

Ordeal of Fire

"Common iron prevails, more earthly than the 'noble' metals gold and silver, which cannot withstand the ordeal of fire. Though forcibly taken from its mother, iron emerges victorious, not destroyed but purified. It is the true child of Earth through tested worth, not just by right of birth." (Pesic 14)

These lines to me seem to be a profound symbolic statement, hinting on the direction that the sciences directed the world. I may be reading too much into it, but the elements paint a fitting picture on the value of scientific exploration. For science, most things to be useful must have a practical application. Iron is used for tools, not to look fancy or elaborate as gold and silver artwork. Iron is used for simple and sturdy equipment, such as plows to till the soil.

The interesting thing about this passage though is that iron can be transformed into something more useful. By trial of fire the iron can become stronger, while the "noble" becomes weaker.

Unsmelted iron was the natural sciences, coarse but still useful and good because they had a practical purpose. Perhaps the gold and silver are the humanitarian studies such as philosophy and politics. These cannot stand the ordeal of fire without loosing its integrity.

I have a couple questions: What exactly would the idea of fire consist of in this context? Does this ordeal have a positive or negative influence on the "blacksmith"? And why does he choose the words "more earthly"? Am I right in my interpretation that these words mean better or does Bacon recognize that "more earthly" simply means more applicable to this world?

Bacon and the Two Cultures?

"In Bacon's account, the scientist is not an unpolitical servant, meekly delivering his discoveries to his masters, but takes responsibility himself. Those who wield such power should be prepared and purified" (Pesic 33).

According to the above, Bacon says that there is no moral check from the literary culture on the scientist; instead, it is the duty of the scientist to provide his own moral check on his own works. However, unlike Snow, Bacon does not insist that this moral check derives from the nature of scientific inquiry itself. That would mean, therefore, that it is necessary for scientists to be educated on morality, since it is not up to the other culture or to the political realm to regulate the morality of science. Firstly, am I reading this right? Does Bacon think that science itself has no internal regulating morality, but that it is still the duty of the scientists (who are separated from science itself) to regulate their inquiry? Secondly, if scientists are able to regulate their own work, in what way should science interact with the literary?

Bacon, Pesic and Personification

Personification is the act of attributing human qualities to entities which are not human. Early on in Labyrinth, Peter Pesic quotes the philosopher Heraclitus when he explains that, "Nature loves to hide. Unless you expect the unexpected you will never find it, for it is hard to discover and hard to attain" (2). Heraclitus seems to speak of nature as a living being that can consciously avoid human introspection, and he is not alone in this attitude towards nature. Bacon also speaks of Nature more like a person or creature than an intangible entity. He knows that through 'vexation' Nature's secrets can be revealed, but also warns scientists against using 'brute force' in order to ascertain knowledge from Nature. Also, in his reinterpreted myths, Bacon anthropomorphizes many aspects of the quest for scientific knowledge. 

I feel that modern science views Nature and the unknown in a much less literary way than Bacon seems to view the mysteries of science. For example, physicists today still seek to understand phenomena like Gravity because it is a puzzle, but I feel that the physicists view it like a puzzle rather than a being that they must wrestle with. Maybe Bacon is being a little more tongue-in-cheek with his myths than I am giving him credit for...thoughts?    

A bit about last week-

In his discussion on  Prometheus, Pesic notes that a "certain chastity" is required of science to not be contaminated by fable, the result being that if science becomes contaminated it will seek "empty visions that lack power to help humanity." (36) 

In our previous discussions, we agreed that science's power is found mostly in its applicability; applied science has given us cures to ailments and a higher standard of living to name a few of its successes. Yet, science still fails to solve the existential truths common to all mankind. In this area it "lacks the power to help humanity" answer the question - what are we to make of living? Frequently in class, these discussions  moved towards the topic of the atomic bomb and its moral consequences, leading me to remember Gertrude Stein's famous response to those frightened by the atom bomb. Here, the literary intellectual provides an existential answer that science never has. (http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stein-atom-bomb.html) To Stein, the atom bomb is not interesting because of its ability to destroy. If we are to value destruction, how are we to value the living (those that are truly interesting)? Literature, here, comforts humanity by painting one's fear of the atom bomb as futile. In Snow's world, will science be able to comfort humanity? 

Myth of Cassandra

Bacon begins his collection of myths with Cassandra, or Plainness of Speech. For him, she represents speaking truth but not being able to convey her messages to others. Bacon recognizes the need for Apollo, or the God of Harmony in speech. Because she lacked this, Cassandra's prophetic admonitions were ignored. In Bacon's work, he introduces a new understanding of science, which requires accepting the harmony of nature. The scientist will be doomed if he gets caught up in learning too much about nature too fast, without pausing to contemplate the consequences. It seems as though this would upset the balance. The study of science, therefore, necessitates this sort of harmony between the scientist and nature. This is also represented by Pesic's analysis of Bacon's myth of Proteus, and the mutual struggle between Menelaos and Proteus: "The hero's struggle with Proteus is mutual, testing both of them. The seeker is not self-sufficient, not self-fashioning; everything depends on an encounter with forces beyond the self" (Pesic, p. 24).

Sciene: Is it a Monster?

In his discussion on the myth of Daedalus, Bacon addresses the motivation behind scientists. He says that, “envy...is strongly predominant in great artists and never lets them rest.” (734). Later he says that, “it is the prerogative of famous workmen to be acceptable all over the world.” (735). Bacon is acknowledging that all scientists do not work only for the sake of humanity, but have personal motivations. This motivation leads scientists to create both good and bad things for the world. Are these personal motivations good or bad for science and the world? Can the negative results be contained through government? Later on, Bacon calls science a monster. Pesic dismisses this to, “mean marvel or prodigy” (32). But has science become a monster in the world, creating devices like the atomic bomb that benefit few and hurt many more? Is this simply the nature of science or a product of personal motivation?

Lameness= Genius?

One of the more interesting and provocative insights in this book so far is the author's statement: "Bacon's connection of lameness with insight applies to other scientists; both Newton and Einstein achieved their greatest work because they could think excruciatingly slowly. Indeed, scientists have periods of illness or physical disability in childhood far beyond the proportion of the general population (Pesic, 34)."

The more I think about this thesis, the more I believe that Pesic is truly onto something. Disabilities, whether in childhood or later in life, perhaps really do slow us down and force us to look at the world in a different way. Indeed, Stephen Hawking, perhaps one of the greatest scientist/philosopher's of our time has a motor neurone disease that confines him to a wheelchair. What (or why) exactly is it that physical disabilities are so often associated with greatness in the scientific world?

Bridge and Struggle

In our discussions last week, we talked about Snow's two cultures science and literature, their relationship [or lack thereof], and how Snow sees himself as bridging the gap between the cultures. Now if we consider Bacon, it seems as though he bridges the gap much better. He uses myths or parables, as he calls them, to teach a scientific truth. On page 698 in the original pagination of the preface, Bacon says, "I mean the employment of parables as a method of teaching..." Perhaps this gives us some idea of what Snow had in mind when he spoke of the "creative chances" of bringing science and literature together (Snow 16). In any case, the way in which Bacon weaves together science and literature is striking next to the apparent separation that Snow observes.

Something that struck me in the Pesic reading was the idea that scientific inquiry was a mutual struggle between the scientist and nature. On pg. 20, he says "Bacon wanted a new kind of natural philosopher who would not merely gaze respectfully at nature, but would engage her in an intense mutual trial." As an allegory of this idea, Bacon uses the myth of Proteus, in which Menelaos must wrestle with Proteus before he can question him. Later on page 39, Pesic talks about Bacon's belief in "the purgation needed to approach nature's secrets without haste or delusion." Bacon's perception of scientific inquiry is one of a mutual struggle and of purgation on the side of the scientist. The scientist cannot expect to enter into the inquiry without being changed. In fact, that change is a necessary and integral part of the inquiry. All this suggests an intricate connection between man and nature, which makes sense considering that man is a part of nature. Perhaps in our discussion we can explore this connection and the tranforming process between man and nature.

Bacon, Bacon, Bacon, Bacon! (and a little Aristotle)

In several of his mythological explanations, Bacon considers the relationship between Art, Nature, and Divinity. While reading these segments, at times I felt that Bacon established a clear limitation of what man kind could accomplish. For example, during his clarification of the Pan myth, Bacon states, "Then again that match in music and the result of it exhibits a wholesome doctrine, fit to restrain and reduce to sobriety the pride and overweening confidence of human reason and judgment. For it seems there are two kinds of harmony and music; one of divine providence, the other of human reason; and to the human judgment, and the ears as it were of mortals, the government of the world and nature, and the more secret judgments of God, sound somewhat harsh and untunable; and though this be ignorance, such as deserves to be distinguished with the ears of an ass, yet those ears are worn secretly and not in the face of the world- for it is not a thing observed or noted as a deformity by the vulgar" (Bacon, 713). Yet he also attributes to human beings incredible power: "Bacon takes the Scripture to reassure the seekers of their divine license" (Pesic, 32). What implications do these segments raise for the preparation of the scientist? What political implications does this assessment of human nature have?

Bacon also stated, "whereas certainly in my opinion both Empedocles and Democritus, who complain, the first madly enough, but the second very soberly, that all things are hidden away from us, that we know nothing, that we discern nothing, that truth is drowned in deep walls that the true and the false are strangely joined and twisted together, (for the new aademy carried it a great deal too far,) are more to be approved than the school of Aristotle so confident and dogmatical" (Bacon, 749). In Bacon's opinion, did Aristotle step beyond the bounds of human capacity with his axioms? What precisely is Bacon's problem with Aristotle?

I like Bacon's scientist better than Snow's

Bacon, unlike Snow, acknowledges the human fallibility of the scientist and the awesome power of scientific knowledge and its pursuit to raise the scientist to new heights or to destroy him.  Perhaps one of the reasons Bacon is so sensitive to the drama of science is because he is well-versed in the drama of myth.  Within his study of myth Bacon learns the dangers of letting your passions run away with you, of challenging God's plan with your own, etc., and can warn the scientist of these things.  Snow would have his scientists miss out on everything Bacon learns from myth because to Snow myth is traditional and therefore not valuable.  Bacon gets an experience of both cultures, and his work is better for it.  I believe ours is as well.

Once again, the need for a balance

It is interesting that Bacon attempts to extract metaphorical, scientific meaning from ancient Greek myths.  His description of these myths as amorphous and highly malleable was also intriguing in light of his own attempts at identifying a sort of objective meaning within them.  It seems that while he is convinced of the legitimacy of the scientific meanings he identifies, he is also aware that nothing is definitive or certain with regard to myth.

Meanwhile, I found it even more interesting that Bacon's interpretation of myth further illustrates the need for a balance between the scientific and literary communities that we've been discussing.  In fact, Bacon himself refers to the utility of myth in conveying scientific principles in his preface:  "And even now if one wish to let new light on any subject into men's minds, and that without offence or harshness, he must still go the same way and call in the aid of similitudes" (698).

In general, Bacon tends to use myth as a means of illustrating various limits and regulations that must be considered when pursuing scientific knowledge.  In this way, he uses a humanistic, literary perspective to temper and regulate its scientific counterpart.

The Lost Beauty of Science

As soon as I began the Labyrinth reading it became clear to me that the style of scientific writing has changed drastically.  Gilbert especially uses erotic and romantic language to describe the effects of magnets. I think that the style of writing has led to the divergence of the scientific and literary world.  What other effects has this change in style and language had on modern science and how it is viewed by laypeople?

More blog problems

I've just discovered that you cannot have two Google accounts open at the same time. In other words, if you are logged in to the blog (under your own user name) and then log in to the Google Docs site with the class username, you will automatically be logged out of the blog - and may find that you lose work, if you are halfway through writing a post.

And vice-versa too; if you're reading the Wisdom online and log in to the blog, you'll find that you lose access to the document.

This is bad design on Google's part, I think. Just remember to logout from the Google docs site and the blog when you're finished.

Bacon Readings

The text of the Wisdom of the Ancients has been posted to the Google docs site, in the "Bacon" folder.

I would like you to read the following parts of the text. (I have italicized the names of the chapter that Pesic does not discuss in his book - these are extra chapters I've chosen).

Preface. Why is Bacon, the champion of a new way of understanding the world, interested in the ancients? Does he really think that myths contain the secret meanings he finds in them? What are his principles of interpretation?
Cassandra. The first myth in the collection. Bacon tried many very different genres and styles to put across his new thoughts about nature; none was successful. What is the significance for Bacon of the figure of Cassandra?
Pan
Orpheus
Coelum
Proteus
Cupid
Daedalus
Ericthonius
Dionysus
Atalanta
Prometheus
Sphinx
Sirens

What if the compass is broken?

A couple posts below Quoc interprets Snow to the effect that science is a ship, taking us to the future, and Quoc asks without a compass [from the literary/traditional culture] how will the ship know where to go. In defense of Snow, I would ask what happens if the compass is broken? Or perhaps a better way to phrase it, what happens when the compass tells you not to go anywhere, because this is exactly the attack that Snow makes on the literary culture and the turning point for why he places our future in the sciences. It is the literary tradition that contains a moral trap that leads man to do nothing. Snow says on page seven, " There is a moral trap which comes through the insight into man's loneliness: it tempts one to sit back, complacent in one's unique tragedy, and let the others go without a meal. As a group, the scientists fall into that trap less than others. They are inclined to be impatient to see if something can be done: and inclined to think that it can be done, until it's proved otherwise."

This is the difference between the two cultures. Quoc asks how the second law of thermodynamics will show you how to treat others. It won't. But there's no guarantee that the literary tradition will either, which is why Snow pointed to the cultural consequences of Keats, Pound, etc. What the second law of thermodynamics will do, however, is help you to create infrastructure in the developing world that will make people's lives better.

Now, as a PLS major, I am not going to abandon the literary tradition. If I did I would have some real problems on my hands. But I think that we should give Snow's claim some serious consideration and think about whether the literary tradition really is helping us to improve the human condition or not. And if it isn't whether that is something we should be worried about.

Trilling's Defense

"No the world will not be saved by teaching English at universities, nor, indeed, by any other literary activity.  It is very hard to say what will save the world, and pretty surely it is no one single thing.  But we can be perfectly certain that the world will not be saved by denying the actualities of the world.  Among these actualities politics is one.  And it can be said of The Two Cultures that it communicates the strongest possible wish that we should forget about politics.  It mentions national politics once, speaking of it as the clog upon the activity of scientists, as the impending circumstance in which they must work."

In Trilling's commentary on the Leavis-Snow controversy, he aptly points out that Snow has clearly oversimplified science's ability to rectify all the problems of the world.  In The Two Cultures, Snow looks to the future with a starry eyed optimism, for he holds the ardent belief that with correct amount of vigor and scientific enterprise, mankind can eradicate the problems from the earth.  He is so confident that scientists around the world share in the same culture that they would completely throw aside even religious and political ideology in order to work together to find solutions to the world's problems.  Trilling correctly points out, though, that science is not everything.  Countries like the United States and the Soviet Union have completely different political standpoints and entirely different histories and for one to believe that the sheer optimism of science can make entire nations forget their differences is quite naieve.  Trilling notes that the situation is complicated.  Let's say for argument's sake that there do exist two cultures; actually, can we make the argument that from the very beginning, Snow had made his conception of cultures too narrow.  Of course, there is the literary culture and the scientific culture, but can we consider the business world or the political world as their own cultures as well?  Snow feels that we can define a culture as a group of inividuals who share the same ideas.  Businessmen and politicians do congregate with their own.  If there in fact multiple cultures, what is the future of their interaction?  Can we say that the literary culture, or the political culture if we can posit one, should guide the scientific culture?  Should the scientific culture be allowed independence from the other cultures to continue their unbridled research?  How do we know, though, in this case if science will remain ethical, when it is free from the literary culture?

Doesn't a Ship Need a Compass?

Snow seems to believe in the optimism of science and its potential to create immediate and tangible changes to the living conditions of human beings via technology. In this sense, science is like a ship carrying its passenger "humanity"to a bigger and brighter condition. However, if the ship does not have a compass, where does it go? Snow stated that morality was intrinsic in the study of science, but he does not go on to explain how. As far as science is concerned, how does the Second Law of Thermodynamics show me how to live and to treat others? It is not in Literature that the history, experience, and lessons of humanity conserved more so than in the sciences?

Shouldn't literature be more emphasized now in modernity more than ever because of the increasing existential questions that man encounters in this age of scientific "progress"? It seems like even though many materialistic needs are met, the metaphysical and spiritual questions that man asks still retains great demand for answers....

Gooo Leavis Beeeat Snow

[From Jen Wulf, not Prof. Goulding]

Although his commentary did wax a tad vitriolic at times, I enjoyed Leavis' response to Snow. I felt, as many in our class did, that Snow grossly undervalued literature, despite his profession to be an equal member of both camps. In particular, Leavis was able to articulate one detail that bothered me about the Snow reading. He writes,

"...Snow, without any sense of there having been a shift, slips from his 'literary culture' into 'traditional culture.' The feat of innocent unawareness is striking and significant enough when he is talking of the contemporary scene. But when, with the same case he carries the matter of fact identification into the past-- the 'traditional culture' he tells us, with reference to the industrial revolution, 'didn't notice, or when it did notice, didn't like what it saw', the significance becomes so portentous as to hardly be credible."

Because he uses the words "literary" and "traditional" synonymously, Snow introduces an archaic and even conservative undertone into what it means to be literary. He mentions several times how science is concerned with the betterment of human life, especially in pragmatic terms, but does not put any emphasis on the humanities' contributions to life. Rather, as stated above, he makes members of the humanities' camp out to be blind or resistant to scientific advances and relatively useless as far as their own achievements go.

Whoa Leavis...take a chill pill...

I haven't read the Trilling article yet, so forgive me if anything I say is irrelevant (but I wanted to post before it got too late)... However, I wanted to comment on the nature of Leavis' criticism of C.P. Snow. As I began reading, I was struck by Leavis' scathing tone (as I'm sure most of you were as well). It definitely seemed as if Leavis had some personal vendetta against Snow: perhaps he was jealous because Snow was enjoying more acclaim than him. Instead of directing his criticism toward Snow's assertions in The Two Cultures, Leavis spends most of his time personally attacking Snow and mocking his literary career. Just as I was thinking how unprofessional Leavis' article was, I saw something in the introduction to The Two Cultures that was interesting. On page xxxvi Stefan Collini writes: "The literary critic, habitually attending to the fine texture of verbal detail, can at times barely be persuaded that something is being said at all if it is being said badly." I definitely think that is what happened in Leavis' criticism. He spends so much time analyzing how Snow articulates his ideas, that he fails to consider the ideas themselves very much.

The Imprecise Meaning of Culture

One of the many obstacles to fully developing the relationship between the scientific and literary communities is arriving at some understanding of their mutual relation to culture.  Trilling seems to think of culture as a sort of common ground shared by the two contrasting communities, but often struggles to define "culture" in very exact or precise terms.  He says that all human expressions (presumably whether scientific or literary) can be examined in terms of culture:  "The concept of culture is an idea of great attractiveness and undoubted usefulness.  We may say that it begins in the assumption that all human expressions or artifacts are indicative of some considerable tendencies in the life of social groups or sub-groups, and that what is indicative is also causative--all cultural facts have their consequences" (Trilling 9a).  

Meanwhile, Snow refers to a dominant "traditional culture" controlled by the literary community, and does not seem to see much room for scientific influence in the "traditional culture" as it currently exists.  What is the relationship between the different notions of culture articulated by Snow, Trilling and perhaps even Leavis?  Do any of their ideas of culture overlap?  For instance, would Snow's notion of the "traditional culture" be at all similar to Trilling's general concept of culture?

There are basically two schools of thought...or are there?

In his refutation of Snow's lecture, Leavis writes: "Snow, in exhorting us to put aside our individual living and live instead on 'social hope,' preaches as the way of salvation the characteristic modern mode of refusing to live on the spot where one is." Leavis equivocates living on the spot where one is with really living. This question made me consider the extent to which a social atmosphere is necessary for "really living." For both scientists and writers, they take pleasure in their own personal works, be it research or writing, but they also gain satisfaction from sharing their findings, stories, poems, etc. with others. Could this be a common link between the scientists and the literary culture? Are not both concerned with the natural phenomena occurring on this earth, either between human interactions or in chemical reactions, or whatever topic they are dealing with? The topic of specialization has been brought up before, and I think that this is necessary simply because every person is not suited for every position. I think that Leavis' fervent attack on Snow only furthered Snow's argument that the scientist and the writer do not understand one another. If this divide is so devastating as Snow posits, then to what extent would a simple appreciation of the similarities between all educated men and women and their goals help to bridge this gap?

"Education of the scientist"

"Yet when sir charles speaks of the need to break the "existing pattern" and to go on to a right education, he does not touch upon any such standard of judgement. Although he would seem to be the likeliest person in the world to speak intelligently about the instruction in science of students who do not intend to be scientists, actally he says nothing more on the subject than that ignorance of the Second law of Thermodynamics is equivilant to ignorance of Shakespeare, or that the Yang-Lee experiment at Columbia shoulf have been a topic of general converstation at college High Tables. 

Nor does he propose anything for the education of the scientist, except of course, science."

(Trilling, 10)

Is there justification for Snow's disregard towards the approach to scientific education? The scientific education that we have all gotten has been one of basic and intermediate understanding, what would Snow's interpretation be of our current system of modern science? Is there something to be said about the approach an English teacher would take towards his class versus a Science teacher towards his?