steven shapin_the accidental scientist (2004)
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Sigma Xi, The Scientific Research Society
The Accidental ScientistThe Travels and Adventures of Serendipity: A Study in Sociological Semantics and theSociology of Science by Robert K. Merton; Elinor BarberReview by: Steven ShapinAmerican Scientist, Vol. 92, No. 4 (JULY-AUGUST 2004), pp. 374-376Published by: Sigma Xi, The Scientific Research SocietyStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/27858429 .
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The Accidental Scientist
In 1733, France sent a team of sci entists to colonial Peru on a
momentous mission: to measure a
degree of longitude near the equator. By comparing this with a degree measured in France, the
academy could put to rest a long standing dispute about the shape of the Earth. Was it flattened at the poles, as Newton argued, or
elongated, as Descartes believed? The team's adventures are
recounted in Robert Whitaker's
meticulously researched The Mapmaker's Wife: A True Tale of Love, Murder, and Survival in the Amazon (Basic Books, $25). Whitaker captures the voracious
curiosity of the expedition's Enlightenment scientists, "set
loose in a savant's playground." Together they explore South America, catalog its wildlife, docu ment its culture and languages, and scale new heights in the Andes. Voltaire called their success
"a model for all scientific expedi tions to follow."
Whitaker contrasts this with the dark tale of Isabel Godin (shown below), who crossed the continent to rejoin her scientist husband in French Guiana after the expedition. Godin entered the Amazon jungle with a party of 40 and emerged four months later,
exhausted, starving and alone. Her ordeal in the forest highlights the real dangers of colonial explo ration and points up the achieve
ments of what France called "the
greatest expedition the world had ever known."?G.R.
374 American Scientist, Volume 93
Steven Shapin
The Travels and Adventures of
Serendipity: A Study in Sociological Se mantics and the Sociology of Science. Robert K. Merton and Elinor Barber,
xxviii + 313 pp. Princeton University Press, 2004. $29.95.
Aparadox lies close to the heart of scientific discovery. If you know just what you are look
ing for, finding it can hardly count as a
discovery, since it was fully anticipat ed. But if, on the other hand, you have no notion of what you are looking for, you cannot know when you have found it, and discovery, as such, is out of the question. In the philosophy of science, these extremes map onto the
purist forms of deductivism and in ductivism: In the former, the outcome is supposed to be logically contained in the premises you start with; in the latter, you are recommended to start
with no expectations whatsoever and see what turns up.
As in so many things, the ideal posi tion is widely supposed to reside somewhere in between these two im
possible-to-realize extremes. You want
to have a good enough idea of what
you are looking for to be surprised when you find something else of val ue, and you want to be ignorant enough of your end point that you can entertain alternative outcomes. Scien
tific discovery should, therefore, have an accidental aspect, but not too much of one. Serendipity is a word that ex
presses a position something like that. It's a fascinating word, and the late Robert King Merton?"the father of the sociology of science"?liked it well
enough to compose its biography, as sisted by the French cultural historian Elinor Barber.
The Travels and Adventures of Serendipity opens with an account of the word's origin. Writing on January 28, 1754, to the British diplomat Sir
Horace Mann, Horace Walpole?an
antiquarian and son of Prime Minister Robert Walpole?boasted about a re
Steven Shapin teaches history of science at Harvard
University and is the author of several booL? about the history of early modern science.
cent discovery he had made in an old book of Venetian arms:
This discovery I made by a talis man, ... by which I find every thing I want, a pointe nomm?e [at the very moment], whenever I dip for it. This discovery, indeed, is al
most of that kind which I call
Serendipity.
As Walpole himself was the author of the term, he felt obliged to give Mann its derivation:
I once read a silly fairy tale, called The Three Princes of Serendip [the ancient name for Ceylon, or Sri Lanka]: as their Highnesses trav elled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and
sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of: for instance, one of them discovered that a mule blind of the right eye had travelled the same road lately, be cause the grass was eaten only on the left side, where it was worse than on the right?now do you understand Serendipity?
The word did not appear in the pub lished literature until the early 19th cen
tury and did not become well enough known to use without explanation until sometime in the first third of the 20th
century. Antiquarians, following Wal
pole, found use for it, as they were al
ways rummaging about for curiosities, and unexpected but pleasant surprises were not unknown to them. Some peo ple just seemed to have a knack for that sort of thing, and serendipity was used to express that special capacity.
The other community that came to dwell on serendipity to say something important about their practice was that of scientists, and here usages cut to the heart of the matter and were often vigor ously contested. Many scientists, includ
ing the Harvard physiologist Walter Cannon and, later, the British immunol
ogist Peter Medawar, liked to emphasize how much of scientific discovery was
unplanned and even accidental. One of Cannon's favorite examples of such
serendipity is Luigi Galvani's observa tion of the twitching of dissected frogs'
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legs, hanging from a copper wire, when
they accidentally touched an iron railing, leading to the discovery of "galvanism"; another is Hans Christian Orsted's dis
covery of electromagnetism when he un
intentionally brought a oirrent-carrying wire parallel to a magnetic needle. Rhetoric about the sufficiency of rational method was so much hot air. Indeed, as Meda war insisted in The Art of the Soluble, "There is no such thing as The Scientific Method," no way at all of sys tematizing the process of discovery. Re
ally important discoveries had a way of
showing up when they had a mind to do so and not when you were looking for them. Maybe some scientists, like some book collectors, had a happy knack; maybe serendipity described the situation rather than a personal skill or
capacity. Yet what Cannon and Medawar
took as a benign nose-thumbing at Dreams of Method, other scientists found incendiary. To say that science had a significant serendipitous aspect was taken by some as dangerous deni
gration. If scientific discovery were re
ally accidental, then what was the spe cial basis of expert authority?
In this connection, the aphorism of choice came from no less an authority on scientific discovery than Louis Pas teur: "Chance favors the prepared
mind." Accidents may happen, and
things may turn up unplanned and un
foreseen, as one is looking for some
thing else, but the ability to notice such events, to see their potential bearing and meaning, to exploit their occur rence and make constructive use of them?these are the results of system atic mental preparation. What seems like an accident is just another form of
expertise. On closer inspection, it is in sisted, accident dissolves into sagacity.
But the conjunction of chance and ex
pertise was, indeed, part of Walpole's original definition: The three princes made their discoveries "by accidents and sagacity," and the example of the mule was one that Sherlock Holmes, or Umberto Eco's William of Baskerville, using what the philosopher Charles Sanders Peirce called "abductive infer ence," would have been proud of. Some scientists using the word meant to stress those accidents belonging to the situation; some treated serendipity as a personal capacity; many others ex
ploited the ambiguity of the notion. Here, as in so many instances, it was
the very equivocality of the word that as
sisted its dispersal across the cultural
landscape, just as one can use the word noble to describe a status by birth (whose members may behave ignobly) or a type of virtuous behavior (which may be manifested by those of ignoble birth). The trade-offs permitted by this ambigu ity are useful: They allow all sorts of claims and contests, criticisms and cele brations. Lots of dictionaries got serendip ity wrong too, if, indeed, one can say that dictionaries do get it wrong: Some forgot the "sagacity" bit; some subsumed the "accident" bit into something like "ge nius"; many, less materially, mangled the
story about Walpole and his source. The context in which scientific
serendipity was most contested and had its greatest resonance was that con nected with the idea of planned science. If you thought that scientific research could be confidently planned?as many
Marxists, and some corporate capitalists and Pentagon functionaries, did?then
you were making a massive bet against serendipity. If, on the other hand, you considered that efforts to organize, regi ment and plan science were ill-advised, then you could recruit serendipity to
your cause. The serendipitists were not all inhabitants of academic ivory tow ers. As Merton and Barber note, two of the great early-20th-century American
pioneers of industrial research?Willis
Whitney and Irving Langmuir, both of General Electric?made much play of
serendipity, in the course of arguing against overly rigid research planning.
Langmuir thought that misconcep tions about the certainty and rationality of the research process did much harm and that a mature acceptance of uncer
tainty was far more likely to result in
productive research policies. For his own part, Langmuir said that satisfac
tory outcomes "occurred as though we were just drifting with the wind. These
things came about by accident." If there is no very determinate relationship be tween cause and effect in research, he said, "then planning does not get us
very far." So, from within the bowels of
corporate capitalism came powerful ar
guments, by way of serendipity, for sci entific spontaneity and autonomy. The notion that industry was invariably committed to the regimentation of sci entific research just doesn't wash.
For Merton himself?who one sup poses must have been the senior au
thor?serendipity represented the key stone in the arch of his social scientific
work. In 1936, as a very young man,
Photographer Rod Morris and
zoologist Alison Ballance treat
readers to a visually rich and
wide-ranging tour in South Sea
Islands: A Natural History (Firefly Books, $35). The package is so attractive, and the message?that isolated archipelagos show the
many vagaries of evolution?is so
forcefully illustrated, that it is easy to turn a blind eye to the occa
sional slipup in the text. What
stickler cares, after all, that
Hawaii, one of the stops on this
13-chapter journey from Fiji to Easter Island, is in the Northern
Hemisphere? What does it matter
that mammals evolved more than 100 million years before the authors say? And so what if the book fails to acknowledge
Wallace and credits Darwin in
unsophisticated ways? It is still full of many splendid details about the plants and animals seen on
these (largely) tropical islands, such as the spectral tarsier from
Sulawesi shown below. And hav
ing so many locales covered
together provides a wonderful sense of the rules by which nature
operates?and the exceptions to
those rules.?D.A.S.
www.americanscientist.org 2004 July-August 375
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Jane Hammerslough's Owl Puke
(Workman, $13.95) imparts new meaning to the phrase "takeout
food." This biology lab in a box, complete with a foil-wrapped ball of owl vomit, a bone-sorting tray and a guidebook detailing the birds' behavioral and culinary habits, should entice the 8- to 12
year-old set. It offers hands-on
exploration of a modern circle of life: Owls eat their prey whole.
Then, in the owl's gizzard, the
indigestible parts (fur and bones) get compressed into "a smooth
package of puke" that is regurgi tated. Fungi, beetles and moths
use this matter for food and shel ter. And entrepreneurs (the guide book informs us) sell it online for $1.65 per pretreated pellet (with a minimum 10-pellet order, please).
Fortunately, there's more to
Owl Puke than a dried ball of vomit. Fully illustrated chapters covering important owl attributes
and predator-prey relationships make the unwrapping of the pel let more meaningful. And young readers with a pair of tweezers, a
magnifying glass and the patience to deal with small rodent bones can have a hoot putting together a skeleton.?ED.
376 American Scientist, Volume 93
Merton wrote a seminal essay on "The
Unanticipated Consequences of Purpo sive Social Action." It is, he argued, the nature of social action that what one intends is rarely what one gets: Intend
ing to provide resources for buttress
ing Christian religion, the natural
philosophers of the Scientific Revolu tion laid the groundwork for secular ism; people wanting to be alone with nature in Yosemite Valley wind up crowding one another. We just don't know enough?and we can never
know enough?to ensure that the past is an adequate guide to the future: Un
certainty about outcomes, even of our best-laid plans, is endemic. All social action, including that undertaken with the best evidence and formulated ac
cording to the most rational criteria, is uncertain in its consequences. As Robert Burns put it, "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men/ Gang aft
agley, /An' lea'e us nought but grief an'
pain, /For promis'd joy!" It is a humane vision, and this biog
raphy of serendipity is a humane, learned and very wise book. It was fin
ished in 1958 and lay in Merton's files until just a few years ago. His explana tion that it was put aside as a mere pro logue to another book doesn't carry complete conviction. A plausible alter native is that American academic soci
ology was then well on its way to tak
ing a radically different direction from that represented in this book: less hu
mane, more rationalistic, less con
cerned with the vagaries and contin
gencies of concrete human action, less
willing to attend to voices speaking of
unanticipated consequences, complex ities and, indeed, serendipity.
As his subsequent career illustrates, Merton himself must have had am bivalent feelings about these differ ences in sociological sensibilities: Sci entism pulled him in one direction, humanism in another; and in the sub
sequent decades, scientism exerted the
stronger pull. Perhaps Merton felt that the time for such a book had passed. It is a pity that we had to wait so long for it, since The Travels and Adventures of Serendipity is the great man's greatest achievement. |
Venal Combat
Paul Rabinow
The Genome War: How Craig Venter Tried to Capture the Code of Life and Save the World. James Shreeve. + 403
pp. Knopf, 2004. $26.95.
The completion of the sequencing of the human genome was by any standard a technological tri
umph and a scientific landmark. It was
widely publicized as a "race," al
though exactly what it meant to com
plete the task was never made very clear. But the race turned out to be, in a sense, rigged: Ultimately, political in tervention at the highest levels ensured
Paul Rabinow is a professor of anthropology at the
University of California, Berkeley. He is the author
of many books, including French DNA: Trouble in Purgatory (University of Chicago Press, 1999) and the forthcoming (with Talia Dan-Cohen) A
Machine to Make a Future: Biotech Chronicles
(Princeton University Press, 2004), about the
founding and work of Celera Diagnostics, which is a joint venture between the Applied Biosystems
Group and Celera Genomics Group of Applera
Corporation.
that the competitors would cross the finish line together, allowing President Clinton and Prime Minister Blair to come together at the Rose Garden in
June 2000 to celebrate the achievement. Who were the competitors in this
supposed contest? There were two: A
public consortium?which grouped the National Institutes of Health (NIH), the
Department of Energy, multiple uni
versity laboratories receiving federal
grants to carry out the sequencing work, the world's largest philanthropy (the Wellcome Trust in Britain) and smaller publicly funded genome pro jects from the United Kingdom, France, Japan, Germany and China?was pit ted against Celera Genomics, a biotech
company in Rockville, Maryland. Francis Collins, codiscoverer of "the
cystic fibrosis gene" (for which he shared a patent), represented the pub lic effort as director of the NIH Hu
man Genome Project. Craig Venter, an
outspoken maverick and chief scien tific officer of Celera Genomics,
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