Академический Документы
Профессиональный Документы
Культура Документы
com/
of the Social Sciences
Kuhn's Way
Joseph Agassi
Philosophy of the Social Sciences 2002 32: 394
DOI: 10.1177/004839310203200306
The online version of this article can be found at:
http://pos.sagepub.com/content/32/3/394
Published by:
http://www.sagepublications.com
Additional services and information for Philosophy of the Social Sciences can be found at:
Email Alerts: http://pos.sagepub.com/cgi/alerts
Subscriptions: http://pos.sagepub.com/subscriptions
Reprints: http://www.sagepub.com/journalsReprints.nav
Permissions: http://www.sagepub.com/journalsPermissions.nav
Citations: http://pos.sagepub.com/content/32/3/394.refs.html
PHILOSOPHY
Agassi
/ KUHNS
OF WAY
THE SOCIAL SCIENCES / September 2002
Kuhns Way
JOSEPH AGASSI
Tel-Aviv University and York University, Toronto
PRELIMINARIES
This review of the posthumous collection of essays by Thomas S.
Kuhn will take the form of a personal obituary. I attempt to offer some
background to his scholarly career, find a coherent story in it, and
come to a revised conclusion. I am not neutral, since I fancy myself a
rival. (He was my senior by a few years.) We wrote on the quantum
revolution (Agassi 1967; Kuhn 1978) and on the historiography of science (Kuhn 1962; Agassi [1963] 1967). His second book was the first on
that topic; my first book came second. We reviewed each others book
(Kuhn 1966; Agassi 1966). Gerd Buchdahl (1965, 69) reviewed both
books and noted a trend. The trend was mostly Kuhn. (Compare
pages 28 and 168 of Kragh [1987].) His success was immense. His
book influenced . . . scientists, . . . economists, historians, sociologists
and philosophers, touching off considerable debate. It has sold about
one million copies in 16 languages and remains required reading in
many basic courses in the history and philosophy of science (Gelder
1996).
He good-humoredly indulged my unruly histories and crude manners. Our casual meetings were few but pleasant. He invited me to
speak to the departmental graduate seminar in Princeton. He then
received me at his home. We crossed swords in meetings. His book on
Philosophy of the Social Sciences, Vol. 32 No. 3, September 2002 394-430
2002 Sage Publications
394
395
the quantum revolution (Kuhn 1978) had earned many reviews, and
he answered all of them (Kuhn 1984) save mine (Agassi 1983). We met
last at the international history of science meeting at Berkeley in 1985.
I talked there about willful distortions of historical evidence. As an
example, I cited works of Henry Guerlac (Agassi 1987, 102). There and
then, Kuhn broke off relations with me. Guerlac was a friend, he
briefly explained. It was nothing personal. He just wanted to be frank.
I valued this frankness. This was our last meeting. He ignored all my
efforts to appease him.
Traditionally, historians of science considered open criticism hostile. They therefore concealed their criticism. (I. Bernard Cohen [1954,
164] is the first to have noticed this custom.) Guerlac told me that his
review of Donald McKie (Guerlac 1954) contained criticism and that it
had aroused hostility. Oddly, I find no criticism in the review. Both
author and reviewer poured scorn on the phlogiston theory because it
is false and praised Lavoisiers alternative as if it were true. Both
masked the familiar refutations of Lavoisier, implying that only his
terms needed updating (McKie [1952] 1962; Guerlac 1961; Agassi
[1963] 1967, 17, 30, 41, 43, 46, notes 3, 22, 34, 36, 63, 91, 119). Kuhn
(1962, 139-43, 173) noted rightly that some distortions are unavoidable and thus excusable. He ignored the willful ones. My book offers
many examples of this kind. In his review of it, he dismissed them en
bloc as dated (Kuhn 1966). Here he reports on his discovery of them
and on his having learned from this discovery to avoid inflicting upto-date readings on old texts (pp. 276-77, 291, cf. 276, 278). Obvious
now, it took courage to notice this when distortion was the rule. His
censure was of my criticizing a colleague by name and of my disregard for the reputation of the field.
His histories are above the ordinary cut, as he did not conceal controversy and error. Regrettably, he played them down. The central
theme of the present summing up is this. Controversy is a vital and
regular factor in the scientific tradition. Kuhn did not do it justice. He
said that most of the time, leading scientists shield the ruling scientific
idea of the day from criticism, and rightly so. This attitude limited his
vision. I am never a philosopher and a historian at the same time, he
claimed (p. 316). He was in error. We are all victims of our philosophical limitations, they being the chief source of distortion. The description of Galileos significant errorsby Alexandre Koyr (1939, introduction to part 2; [1965] 1968, 2)is a major event in the
historiography of science. (Still, many ignore it, e.g., Kragh 1987.)
396
397
398
399
400
among these the demand that they should respect rivals. Kuhn
declared that science recognizes no rivalry. As a historian of science,
he opposed concealing controversy; as a philosopher of science, he
advocated suppressing controversy. This latter is neither possible nor
necessary. Rather, we should all learn to argue in dignity. All that is
needed are suitable procedures and sensible, skillful moderators.
Bacons view that criticism is divisive is self-reinforcing. It urges
critics to express disdain for their targets. Criticism and blame thus
regularly mix. We should correct Bacon by separating them. This is
important, mainly in history. Our rational heritage comprises a stock
of noble and wise ideas and of noble and wise criticism of them,
mostly valid.
Robert Boyle valued criticism but not its public display (Fulton
1932, 101). Open, criticism makes its targets desert research, he said.
Veiled criticism allows them to improve (Boyle 1661, Promial Essay).
At the time, only a small band of amateurs conducted empirical
research. As their leader, Boyle respected their feelings. He did not try
to sustain the veiling of criticism. The Royal Society of London unwittingly entrenched his demand to veil criticism by making it customary. Newton tried to banish criticism (Manuel 1968, 344-48). It became
normal to compare dispute to fire. It gives little light and much heat. If
so, then efficiency should rise as the cold light of reason replaces the
fire. Scant effort went into attempts in this direction. Diverse means
can serve that end. Honor to objects of criticism from pens of leading
thinkers may help. To some extent it does. Reconstruction of great
past disputes may help too. To some extent, that does it too (Agassi
[1963] 1967, 61).
Faraday presented his new theory in the usual wayavoiding a
clash of opinions. He was ignored. He became increasingly explicit
in vain. He tried to institute a new, critical style of scientific discourse
(in the British Association). He had limited success. Tradition
demanded that old, respected theories should be vaguely assimilated
into new ones. The model is Newtons vague sketch of the level of
accuracy of Keplers laws as both full and partial (Newton 1687, III,
13; Cohen 1974, 325). Oddly, William Whewell was the first to note
this, and only apropos of some polemics. Keplers laws are not accurate, he said. Hence, they contradict Newtons laws. This was
ignored, as he still tried to insist that the views of both Newton and
Kepler were true. John Herschel and Pierre Duhem noted these problems too. Also to no avail.
401
402
view. Seemingly, he omitted only technical stuff. One cannot grasp it,
he said, without years of hard training. Normal scientists are competent professional researchers. They solve reasonably challenging puzzles. They emulate the lead theory of the daythe paradigm. This
way, they make puzzles manageable. A paradigm can become obsolete, though. Leaders then spend sleepless nights trying to rectify
matters. They design a scientific revolution that is a paradigm shift.
Observations only partly influence such shifts. They also resemble
religious conversions (pp. 108-9, 174-75) (Cohen 1987, 464, 468; Fuller
1989, 67). Controversy may flair up in the process. As a new paradigm
settles, consensus reemerges (pp. 108, 169n, 223, 288). Paradigms
had been traditionally models, particularly grammatical [?] models of
the right way to do things (p. 298). They are what consensus was
about (p. 299).
Kuhn insisted that nonetheless, science is empirical. He did not
explain. Rather, he appealed to common sense. Not much of his philosophical output is devoted to exposition. Much of it is of ideas he
shared with others. Most important of these is that there are no pure
observations and so no pure observational terms (pp. 107, 311).
Most of his philosophical texts comprise examples from the history of
physics. Next come corrections of misreadings of old texts. Next come
damaging misrepresentations of Kuhns own texts (p. 156). He
complained and showed surprise (pp. 53-54, 106, 123-24, 133-35, 15657, 160, 228, 307-8, 311, 315, 322, and more). He was surprised to hear,
Well, Tom, your biggest problem now is showing in what sense science can be empirical (p. 159n). He did not name his source, though
he mentioned that she had written a favorable review of his book,
thus targeting Mary B. Hesse (1963). The story reappears 30 pages
later, where he names her (p. 186). She repeated her message over a
lunch we three had one day. What troubled her, I understand, was his
view of the leaders as mediators between data and research.
Leaders impose paradigms, he said. They thus decide what projects the rank and file should pursue. He did not say what or whom
science serves. He never mentioned grant donors. Presumably, he did
not favor gratifying them. Traditionally, research serves the curious,
the seekers after the truth. Kuhn dismissed them as fossils (p. 120).
Paradigms help solve puzzles. They undergo small revisions. This
somehow makes them increasingly clumsy. Small revisions give way
to gigantic onesto revolutions. Leaders decide how much clumsiness to allow before going for a revolution. Einstein did not allow any
(Einstein [1949] 1959, I, 65). Kuhn reports that Einstein did (p. 154)
403
on the assumption (Kuhns) that at any time, only one paradigm prevails. He (Kuhn) later withdrew this assumption, but he forgot to
withdraw the corollaries to it. He finally allowed for many paradigms
and for small revolutions (p. 143). As these changes are gigantic, what
he was finally allowing for were small giants.
This is what Norwood Russell Hanson said (1964, 180-81). Kuhn
had good case histories, he said, but no idea for them to illustrate.
After Kuhn had caught the public eye, he took back all that he had
ever said, observed Hanson. Hanson was quick to notice Kuhns way,
yet he exaggerated. Kuhn did have a theory. It is that leaders impose a
shared belief on all professional scientists. True, he also took this back
once, but we should overlook this as a mere slip. He said that science
requires dogma, as some dogmatic conduct is beneficial (Kuhn 1963).
This justification will not do. When dogmatic conduct is useful, then
one can behave dogmatically without dogmatism (Bendix 1970, 68;
Agassi 1977, 338). At one point, Kuhn said so too (p. 141). This must
have been a mistake, as it amounts to relinquishing the demand for
shared belief. And then nothing of Kuhns philosophy remains.
Abner Shimony (1993, 309) has ascribed to Kuhn the sleight of hand
of a systematic abortion of a viable line of reasoning at exactly the
moment that it became embarrassing to the author! This discussion
peters out unless someone presents a consistent canonic version of
Kuhns philosophy. A sketch of its genesis may help them.
404
social history of science did not stop him from portraying research as
a profession linked to political power (pp. 149, 252) He even declared
this necessarily permanent (p. 252).
To identify profession with competence is to overlook incompetent
professionals and competent amateurs, not to mention outstanding
amateurs (e.g., Michael Ventris). Kuhn collapsed quite a few distinctions. Here are some. Proficient versus dilettante. Professional versus
amateur. Qualified versus unqualified. Polymath (e.g., von
Neumann) versus specialist. Reliable versus sham. Trade specialist
versus academic specialist. Specialism versus subfield (Zuckerman
1988, E 4b). Research activities versus research projects (Bunge 2001,
170). Preference for an idea versus dogmatic adherence to it (Bendix
1970, 68). His concern was with prospective leaders. They must work
hard and imitate top physics professors. These oozed authority and
boasted top reputations (as well as security clearance). A lively passage in Kuhns book on the quantum revolution (1978, 215) pictures
young, hardly known Einstein visiting a famous university, the professor showing him respect, and the students realizing that he counts.
All this reflects the new mentality of the cold war. Harvard University president Conant made new conditions for academic jobs. He
demanded professional authority and political conformity
(Hershberg 1993, 391-554; Danhof 1968, 281, 316, 320). Polanyi (1969)
cautiously defended this authority. Authority grows out of mutual
control and criticism, he said. It enforces scientific standards and
regulates the distribution of professional opportunities. Above all, it
is imperfect (pp. 44-46, 53-55, 94-95). For scientific opinion may, of
course, sometimes be mistaken (Polanyi 1962, 61). Kuhns defense of
authority is unqualified. Science is in certain circumstances the most
authoritarian, he said (p. 308). The proviso in this sentence allows
some laxity. It gives license for controversy in interparadigm times.
Conant was Kuhns mentor. He had standing in Washington, in the
Pentagon, and in the academy (Hershberg 1993, chap. 28; Lipset and
Riesman 1975, 302, 305 ff). He wished to remain an academic but was
burnt out. So he opened a program for teaching popular science. The
idea is worthy but weak. It can scarcely be improved without overall
direction and planning (Conant 1964, 51). Excuses for its weakness
abound. Were they serious, they and the obstacles that they depict
would be worthy of investigation (Conant 1964, chap. 5). His program
did not suit his temper and his other activities. The rigorous science
teaching programs of his battery of reputed top physicists (p. 266) left
popular teaching to the duds. He sought new ideas about education
405
406
ons is waning. The need for democratic control over the public
institutions of higher learning is gaining recognition. The republic of
science needs reconstruction. Giving up Kuhns authoritarianism is a
first healthy step.
This assertion is clear. It says, were Kuhn ready to admit that science aims at increased comprehensiveness, then the charge that he
was an irrationalist would die down. If he did not admit it, the charge
stands. If he did, then he did so not consistently and without a clear
indication (Sankey 1997, 306-7; Toulmin 2001, 215-16). Either way, this
407
408
KUHN BORROWED
TRADITIONALISM FROM POLANYI
Kuhn ignored his debt to Polanyi (pp. 296-97). Earlier he had
admitted it, taking his term paradigm to be synonymous with
Polanyis tacit knowledge (Kuhn 1963, 392; cf. Kuhn 1970, 44n, 191).
It is not. For one thing, Newtons system is the paradigm of a paradigm (Kuhn 1963, 356). It is not tacit (Cohen 1956; Bunge 2001, 170).
More generally, Kuhn admitted Margaret Mastermans observation
that his term is ambiguous. I seldom use this term these days, having
totally lost control of it (p. 221). Paradigm was a perfectly good
word until I messed it up (p. 298).
What imposes unanimity? Inductivists say shared information.
Full sharing of information is impossible, however. Duhem ([1914]
1954) said that without scientific realism, unanimity is natural. If theories are mere tools, then unanimity about them can only be agreement about the degree of their utility. Duhem aimed at freedom of
choice of theories limited only by freely chosen tasks (and by logic)
(ibid., 206) He still allowed that realism is vital for science. So he
viewed it as an ideal (ibid., 31-32, 217-18, 265-70, 285, 296). Polanyi
(1958, 183-85) said that leaders are expert and largely trusted. Their
arbitration produces unanimity, he added. Rules that govern skills of
great artists are tacit. So are the rules that govern handing skills over
to apprentices. The same holds for science, he said. This line of
thought deserves admiration, but also criticism. Admitting the usefulness of tradition, Igor Stravinsky ([1936] 1962, 20) rightly advocated student autonomy too:
No matter what the subject may be, there is only one course for the
beginner: he must at first accept a discipline imposed from without, but
only as the means for obtaining freedom for, and strengthening himself
in, his own method of expression.
Polanyi (1969, 80, 93) left small room for dissent in science. Kuhn left
none. As in art, he agreed, so in science, knowledge is tacit (Kuhn
1977, 340-51). Unlike art, however, science aims at unique optimal
solutions (p. 209). To achieve this, we should maximize scientific discipline, he said. This is crucial for him, and it is dead wrong. Not
before the final truth is at hand will total authority be justifiable. Until
then, all authority should be under check. To echo Polanyi (1963, 380),
409
KUHN BORROWED
INCOMMENSURABILITY FROM DUHEM
Kuhn ignored his debt to Duhemthough he respected his leading followers (pp. 286-87). Responding to a query of mine on his
neglect of Duhem, he said he had never read him. Commenting on
this, I. Bernard Cohen said, it is impossible. All members of Conants
circle were familiar with Duhem. Here Kuhn hardly mentions the
Conant circle, and he mentions Duhem as the inventor of a term
410
(p. 235). The same goes for Whewell (p. 212). Giving credit for the
invention of a term is a common token tribute that is an inadvertent
insult (Agassi [1963] 1967, 10). More insulting is Kuhns expression of
gratitude to Popper for having advised him to read a book by a
Duhem fan (p. 286). (When Popper was a visitor at Harvard, young
Kuhn attended his seminar.)
Kuhns image of positivists does not jar with the case of Duhem. He
derided them for their lack of historical perspective. This is true of
Schlick and of Carnap. Duhem was a great positivist and a great historian of science. Kuhn did not discuss the cause of the neglect of the historical perspective. It is that verification renders knowledge
ahistorical. Bacon, the first of the modern positivists, explained this.
Duhem disliked Bacon, but he was gracious enough to note his popularity (Duhem [1914] 1954, 86-93).
Kuhn said of incommensurability, the notion still seems to me the
central innovation introduced by his famous book (p. 228). This is
puzzling. The word denotes an important idea that Duhem explained
in some detail. It is that we do not forget old theories even after they
are dated. Scientific realism is the view that the aim of science is a comprehensive image of the world (Duhem [1914] 1954, 81, 103, 171, 173,
176). Duhem rejected it as nave (ibid., 31-32). It restricts truth to at
most one member of a set of alternative theories. Tradition overrules
this restriction, as older theories continue to serve. If realism is overruled, theories cease to compete. They then become complementary
(ibid., 101, 294). Kuhn endorsed every step of this reasoning. The error
in it is the refuted hypothesis that usefulness goes with truth. Tradition takes this idea as self understood. It permeates the writings of
Duhem as well as those of Kuhn. Its refutations are countless.
Logic demands that we separate alternatives. We comply if we
view them as languagessince perfect translation is impossible
(Duhem [1914] 1954, 133). (Duhem [1996, 78] limited this to the physical sciences, to exclude the life sciences.) Choice between different
theories is then between languages. No amount of information suffices to settle matters with finality (Duhem [1914] 1954, 187-88). Crucial tests do not, as they carry no assurance. Possibly a faulty working
hypothesis (say, about measuring instruments) is involved in the
deduction of the tested predictions. It may then tip the balance erroneously (idid., 185, 187-90, 220). (Duhems wording is misleading. He
said that there are no crucial tests, meaning there are no decisive crucial tests. They are all fallible [Hempel 1966, 25-28; Adam 1992].)
In science, conclusive decidability is not possible. Here is why.
411
These theses are named after Duhem and/or Quine. Duhem precluded and Quine included the possibility of false scientific theories
(Jaki 1984, 370; Vuillemin 1986, 595-98). (Quine learned late about
Duhem [Quine 1988, 118]. He was glad to learn that their views differ
[Quine 1986, 619].) Each of these three theses has two different readings. They are demonstrable but with limited application. Satisfactory translation is obviously possible. Ordinary translations of scientific texts are so reliable that in the present context, Duhem and Quine
have overlooked them. Nor can one preclude all perfect translation
between perfectly formal systems. Likewise, information cannot
determine the choice of a hypothesis only in the abstract. Within
received frameworks, this happens regularly. And hypotheses are
irrefutable only in abstract isolation.
Kuhn elaborated. Paul Feyerabend and Imre Lakatos agreed. Criticism cannot succeed, they all said, unless a better alternative to it is
available. Hempel (1966, 40) agreed. Belief in a false theory is rationally obligatory, then, even past its refutationuntil something
better emerges. Sandra Harding (1976, Preface) considered this folly a
breakthrough.
By its own light, this critique of the critical attitude (for that is what
it is) should be accompanied by a proposed criterion for choice
between alternatives. Hempel appealed to experience. The others
appealed to authority. This way they succumbed to irrationalism
(Russell 1917, I., end of 1).
Duhem needed no such criterion. He valued criticism highly. He
equated physics with applied mathematics, the aim of which is
expected utility. So he allowed for the errors that engineers commit.
Kuhn too equated pure and applied science. He had to: most normal
scientists today are technologists. They have no ruling paradigm, and
they usually apply refuted theories. Most of Kuhns historical examples are from pure science, not from technology. Science and technology overlap, of course. They do so in basic research, which is theoretical and for technical ends (Danhof 1968, 172; Agassi 1980). In rare
cases, basic research serves pure science too. The most famous
instances of this are in nuclear technology, the nub of Kuhns
philosophy.
412
413
of Faraday (1839, 1799, 1788, 2010; Agassi 1971, 64, 132, 137, 147,
176, 295). Einstein discussed the value of a theory, not its credibility.
He found it unimportant whether a theory gains credence or not. He
liked intelligent disagreement. The superiority of one theory over its
competitors, he suggested, is broadly recognized (Einstein [1949]
1959, II, 680). In this, he was somewhat generous to his peers. If alternatives lead to a crucial test, then its evaluation will win consent. Credence for a theory is not so important.
Unanimity is scarce. Newton came closest to winning it. He tried to
impose it and failed (Manuel 1968, 344-48). His criticism of Cartesian
physics did not stop terrific efforts to revive it. (Such revival efforts
were finally crushed by Einstein and Bohr, their physics being so
remote from commonsense physics.) During the cold war, the Pentagon assigned to Edward Teller the project of developing thermonuclear weapons. He needed the cooperation of J. Robert Oppenheimer.
He met with a blank refusal. Some Pentagon big shots then decided to
bully researchers and to teach them a lesson. They demanded cooperation and resorted to coercive, un-American means. Academics
folded fast (Rovere 1959, 17, 24, 208). And then even the gods could
not help America. Decline set in instantly. Academic officials forced
faculty to seek research funds. The Pentagon demanded security
clearances and controlled much of the funds. For every grant, an
added bonus (of 50% or more of the grant) went to the successful
applicants home institution. This turned researchers into academics,
academies into research institutions, cultural institutions into academies, and famous intellectuals into faculty. Grantmanship became a
tool for securing academic appointments. The initiation of peer
review gave power to windbags who had no compunction about raising the pressure to conform (Agassi 1990b).
We can only admire Polanyis valiant struggle for scientific freedom (Polanyi 1958, 145, n., chap. 6, 5). He struggled consistently
against official attempts to plan science. It is regrettable that he did not
throw his weight in favor of freedom of opinion and hence of scientific
dissent. He warned against the dangers of some kinds of control over
research but not against all kinds. Future historians will write about
the important influence exerted by his fight for freedom of science
and culture. Had he fought against the American academic bureaucracy too, he might have had success. We do not know. We do know
that the American political bureaucracy managed to intimidate him
with trumped-up charges (alleging that he had some association with
communists, no less).
414
KUHNS INCOMMENSURABILITY
IS REDUNDANT AT BEST
Newtonian mechanics is the most famous Kuhn-style paradigm. It
had met opposition, mainly from Leibniz. Kuhn blamed Leibniz for
insubordination to the ruling paradigm (p. 290). He did not blame
Einstein for siding with Leibniz (Einstein 1954). Einsteins is a different paradigm. Thus, much depends on how Kuhn demarcated
between paradigms. He could not say. He viewed this as a serious setback (p. 187n) and as no setback at all (pp. 142-43).
Two ideas, of incommensurability and of the paradigm, express
the primacy of the community over its members (p. 104). Fortunately, groups do not have minds (pp. 103, 242). So leaders must
adjudicate. These two ideas are at their disposal. One of them reconciles competing theories. The other views one as dominant. One
allows free choice between theories. The other imposes one theory as
dominant. One drains theories of meaning. The other soaks them in it.
Supposedly, leaders impose conformity to the paradigm. How
then do they use incommensurability? They cannot. It is redundant.
The view of theories as languages merely blocks conflicts between
them. This can be achieved with greater ease by other means. It suffices to give different senses to a term shared by competitors. To take
Kuhns paradigm case (pp. 70-74), he assigned different senses to the
term mass in the systems of Newton and of Einstein. This already
reconciles them. Hence, we can amputate the idea of incommensurability from Kuhns system. More than that. Since the domain of
applicability of the later theory is wider, relativistic mass (whatever
exactly it means) is variable to a higher extent than classical mass
(whatever exactly it means) is constant. It is more accurate. Increased
accuracy is progress. Calling it increased verisimilitude or not matters
little (Newton-Smith 1981, 176-77).
How do we compare two systems? Duhem said that we compare
their domains of application. Kuhn promises us a few times that
incommensurability does not preclude comparison. So now we may
reintroduce comprehensiveness as the aim of physics. For Duhem,
comprehensiveness means the condition of universal applicability,
the quality possessed by the ideal theory. (This condition is necessary
but not quite sufficient. But let us not be finicky.) Duhems view of systems as empty shells is thus redundant too. He has ascribed to theories relative truthdepending on their domains of applicability. We
can then perfect his philosophy by making use of his admission that
415
the relatively true is not absolutely true: it is false. His system and
Poppers will then merge. Kuhn added the imposition of theoretical
conformity to all this. This addition is undesirable. The consensus can
do without it. There is no objection to relative truth, then, as long as it
does not oust the absolute truth. Kuhn, however, did oust it. To see
why, we have to examine his theory of truth. It will transpire that he
had none.
Bacon demanded of scientific research that it should be free of
error. Whewell said that research is trial and error. Duhem said that
domains of applicability are found by trial and error. Kuhn forgot to
discuss error. Obedience to paradigms is error-free, he said. Paradigms had been traditionally models . . . of the right way to do things
(p. 298). They are guarantees for success. So his view explains success
(pp. 129, 132-33). Is it incommensurable with the view of science as
inductive? Should contrasting them lead to crucial tests? Kuhn
wanted incommensurability to be grammatical (p. 211): Paradigms
had been traditionally models, particularly grammatical models of
the right way to do things (p. 298). Can grammar explain history? Is
Kuhns grammar incommensurable with its standard alternative or
should they undergo crucial tests (pp. 44, 77, 200)?
416
said this already early in the day: Newtons laws as a part of Einsteins
system are not the same as the original, at least they are not unless
those laws are reinterpreted in a way that would have been impossible until after Einsteins work (Kuhn 1970, 101). This is not contestable. That it is no argument for incommensurability, Kuhn himself
said, more or less at once. He then explained (after the word But in the
following quotation) why he opposed the alternative view (of theories as competing alternatives).
Our argument has, of course, explained why Newtons Laws ever
seemed to work. . . . An argument of the same type is used to justify
teaching earth-centered astronomy to surveyors. But the argument has
still not done what it purports to do. It has not, that is, shown Newtons
Laws to be a limiting case of Einsteins. For in the passage to the limit it
is not only the forms of the laws that have changed. Simultaneously we
have had to alter the fundamental structural elements of which the universe to which they apply is composed. (Kuhn 1970, 102).
417
418
the Ptolemaic system the planets go round the earth and in the Copernican system they go round the sun. But thats an incoherent statement!
(P. 312)
419
disclaimer of all relations between statements and a putatively mindindependent or external world. Hence, the second part of this
account repudiates the first.
Kuhn suggested that semantics should be limited to intratheoretic applications (p. 162). One begins with declaring a theory
true and proceeds to seek more truths. Its logical consequences are
likewise true. Other statements are independent of the theory. Kuhn
ignored them. He wanted competing theories to be separate but
equal. To that end, he called them languages. This will not do. (Hence,
theories are languages is but a restricted metaphor.) The mathematical theory of embedding allows full embedding of some older theories in newer ones. This permits perfect translations (Vuillemin 1986,
note 28 [regarding Euclid] and note 34 [regarding Newton]; Scheibe
1997, 341). Though Kuhns idea is so very sketchy, it already fails
repeatedly.
Duhem suggested not ascribing truth-values to theoriesto avoid
making them probably false. (Popper suggested the opposite for the
same reason.) This is intriguing. First, we void a theory of content and
thus of truth-value. Consequently, it is mathematical, and thus vacuously true. We may then give it any meaning that renders it true.
Henri Poincar took up this idea. He viewed axiom systems as
implicit definitions of their descriptive words. David Hilbert
endorsed this and made it a part of the study of the foundations of
mathematics (Jaki 1984, 315, 335). Duhem ([1914] 1954, 184, 206, 208)
also sketched a new theory of partial truth, to reflect empirical
testability. A hypothesis is true for the domain to which it is successfully applicable. Tests are of the precise meanings of hypotheses,
namely, of their precise domains of applicability. This way Duhem
combined (mathematical) certitude with (scientific) doubt (ibid., 174,
181). It is a splendid achievement. Admittedly, consent to allow for
false scientific theories supersedes it. It still is active in the study of the
foundations of mathematics. Kuhn has ascribed it to a critic of himself
and dismissed it casually (p. 249). This is an amazing feat.
Frege identified meaning with possessing truth-value.
Wittgenstein agreed and further identified it with decidability. The
wish to allow for meaning with only partial decidability, in defiance
of Wittgenstein, invited deviations from Frege. Carnap (1963, 963-66;
1966) allowed partial verification and so partial meaning.
Reichenbach (1944) suggested intermediate values between truth and
falsehood. Both ideas are worthless as they ignore error and so the
incompatibility between scientific theories. Kuhn, too, ignored error.
420
421
an argument for or against Frege? Russells theory of definite descriptions is an alternative to Freges, but it is incomplete. Kuhn rejected it
(p. 198) to exclude strict synonymy. So did Quine. Kuhn rejected
Quines theory too (pp. 47-48). He offered no alternative. This matters
little, as he accepted (Poppers) methodological nominalism (p. 232),
not noticing that this idea moves the search for a theory of meaning
from philosophy to science.
Though all classifications are legitimate, they may smuggle in theories, and these may be false. They may also be hard to detect, as they
often appeal to intuition. Kripke has suggested that this makes us
endorse them. He was in error. They appeal to our intuition because
they approximate to some scientific theory (Agassi 1995, 255). Ernst
Mayer told me proudly that he managed to convince Popper that the
dispute among biologists about classification is significant. Later,
David Hull (1999, 496-99) expounded on this significance. The literature that he refers to ignores common intuition. It thus also ignores
Kripke, Putnam, and Hackingnot to mention Wittgenstein.
THE BOOK
Foreword, by Jehane R. Kuhn. She says touchingly that her late husband would have altered some of the text here, not so much from discretion, which was not high among his virtues, but from courtesy (p.
viii). Here is a clear example. His putdowns of Quine and of Putnam
differ in tone only. A book by Quine is going off the rails; there isnt
much of an argument in it (pp. 279-80). Not so Putnam: nobody
could reasonably show anything but respect for him. His book is not
exactly Kuhn, but it is a big step (pp. 312-13). Putnam is a friend.
Editors Introduction opens with Shifts happen, a pun on a sophomoric flyer. The flyer also includes, Why does this shift happen to
me?
Chapter 1 is on scientific revolutions. They are rare. Small ones are
common (p. 143). This raises the serious problem of discrimination
of normal and revolutionary episodes (p. 146). On this, Kuhn had no
more than a mere aperu (p. 187n). We must first ask, he added, for
whom is an episode revolutionary (p. 146)? To ask this is to render the
distinction relative. This is funny, as the rationale for the distinction
was to maintain conformity to a consensus.
422
423
424
425
for him (pp. 309, 311, 315-17)partly due to his great success. This
was a real and significant contribution.
His influence is not profound but marked. His publications
amplify important ideas for which he rapidly won public endorsement: science has no justification; it involves repeated revolutions;
scientists may have political ambitions; and their authority restsor
should reston competence. The social background of science matters too, since competence requires nurturing.
His publications contain valuable historical material, including
reviews and surveys of difficult literatures. He argued with some of
the sharpest intellects around. He was admirably candid, as he admitted that he refused to play guru, as it scared the shit out of me
(p. 321). He could have rightly said, It is beneath my dignity. And he
should have. His fame allowed him to be a powerbroker like Conant.
Laudably, he did not care for it.
He was not as innovative as Duhem, Popper, or Polanyi. He did not
write as innocently as Hempel or as gracefully as Koyr and Cohen.
Yet he wrote engagingly, worked with tremendous verve, and made a
difference. He chose the right predecessors and brought some of their
better ideas to large audiences. Trying to convince, he also appealed to
the ability to exercise judgment.
He was far too decent to drive his ambition toward success. He
wanted recognition as serious, not as merely popular. I confess I did
him systematic injustice by repeatedly considering his views a mere
vulgarization of Polanyis while ignoring his ambition. Though a
leader in the field of the history of science, he wished to be a leader in
philosophy. He failed in this. He was much more subtle than he
appears, but also much less systematic. He tried hard not to fool himself. He did not need me to remind him of his shortcomings. I must
have been a thorn in his side, I now realize. I regret this.
He crusaded for the idea that the authoritarian turn in physics heralds a new era. Had he been successful, much of the inadequacy of his
writings would be exempt, merely blemishes for time to heal. Fortunately, the democratic view of science has not lost this round. Kuhn
deserves the accolades that we, his chivalrous democratic challengers, can bring ourselves to award him as we bury him with full
honors.
May he rest in peace.
426
REFERENCES
Adam, A. M. 1992. Einstein, Michelson, and crucial experiment revisited. Methodology
and Science 25:117-28.
Agassi, Joseph. 1957. Duhem versus Galileo. Brit. J. Phil. Sci. 8:237-48. (Reprinted in
Joseph Agassi, The gentle art of philosophical polemics: Selected reviews and comments,
Peru, IL: Open Court, 1988).
. [1963] 1967. Towards an historiography of science, history and theory, Beiheft 2. [The
Hague: Mouton]; Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press.
. 1966. Review of T. S. Kuhn, The structure of scientific revolutions. J. Hist. Philos.
4:351-54. (Reprinted in Joseph Agassi, The gentle art of philosophical polemics: Selected
reviews and comments, Peru, IL: Open Court, 1988)
. 1967. The Kirchhoff-Planck radiation law. Science 56:61-67. (Reprinted in Joseph
Agassi, Radiation theory and the quantum revolution, Basel, Switzerland: Birkhuser,
1993)
. 1971. Faraday as a natural philosopher. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
. 1977. Towards a rational philosophical anthropology. Dordrecht, the Netherlands:
Kluwer.
. 1980. Between science and technology. Philosophy of Science 47:82-99.
. 1981. To save verisimilitude. Mind 90:576-79.
. 1983. The structure of the quantum revolution. Philosophy of the Social Sciences
13:367-81.
. 1987. Twenty years after. In The process of science: Contemporary philosophical
approaches to understanding science, edited by Nancy Nersessian, 95-103. Dordrecht,
the Netherlands: Kluwer. (Also in Organon 22/23 [1987]: 53-61; and in Meta-history
of science at the Berkeley Congress, Warsaw: Ossolineum Publishing House of the Polish Academy of Science, 1988)
. 1988. The future of big science. J. Applied Philos. 5:17-26.
. 1990a. Newtonianism before and after the Einsteinian revolution. In Some truer
method: Reflections on the heritage of Newton, edited by Frank Durham and Robert D.
Purrington, 145-76. New York: Columbia University Press.
. 1990b. Peer review: A personal report. Methodology and Science 23:171-80.
. 1995. Naming and necessity: A second look. Iyyun, The Jerusalem Philosophical
Quarterly 44:243-72.
Bacon, Sir Francis. [1620] 1960. The new Organon and related writings. New York: Liberal
Arts Press.
Bendix, Reinhard. 1970. Embattled reason: Essays on social knowledge. New York: Oxford
University Press.
Boyle, Robert. [1661] 1966. Certain physiological essays. In Works, 2nd ed. 1772, edited
by Thomas Birch. Reprint, Hildesheim: George Olnsverlagsbucher.
Buchdahl, Gerd. 1965. A revolution in historiography of science. History of Science 4:5569.
Budworth, David, 1981. Public science, private view. Bristol, UK: Hilgar.
Bunge, Mario. 1968. Scientific research, II, the search for truth; studies in the foundations,
methodology, and philosophy of science. Berlin: Springer.
. 2001. Philosophy in crisis: The need for reconstruction. Amherst, NY: Prometheus.
Burke, Dolores, L. 1988. A new academic marketplace. New York: Greenwood.
Carnap, Rudolf. 1963. Replies. In The philosophy of Rudolf Carnap, edited by Paul A.
Schilpp. LaSalle, IL: Open Court.
427
428
. 1983. Valuation and objectivity in science. In Physics, philosophy and psychoanalysis: Essays in honor of Adolf Grnbaum, edited by R. S. Cohen and L. Laudan.
Dordrecht, the Netherlands: Kluwer.
Hershberg, James G. 1993. James B. Conant: Harvard to Hiroshima and the making of the
nuclear age. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Hesse, Mary B. 1963. Review of T. S. Kuhn, The structure of scientific revolutions. Isis
54:286-87.
Hintikka, Jaakko. 1975. Rudolf Carnap, logical empiricist. Dordrecht, the Netherlands:
Kluwer.
Hull, David. 1999. The use and abuse of Sir Karl Popper. Biology and Philosophy 14:481504.
Jaki, Stanley L. 1984. Uneasy genius: The life and work of Pierre Duhem. Dordrecht, the
Netherlands: Kluwer.
Katz, Elihu, and Lazarsfeld, Paul F. 1955. Personal influence. New York: Free Press.
Kowarski, Lew. 1977. New forms of organization in physical research after 1945. In History of twentieth century physics, edited by C. Wiener, 370-401. New York: Academic
Press.
Koyr, Alexandre. 1939. tudes Galilenne. Paris: Hermann.
. [1965] 1968. Newtonian studies. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Kragh, Helge. 1987. An introduction to the historiography of science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Kuhn, Thomas S. 1962. The structure of scientific revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
. 1963. The function of dogma in scientific research and discussion. In Scientific
change: Historical studies in the intellectual, social and technical conditions for scientific
discovery and technical invention, from antiquity to the present: Symposium on the history
of science Oxford 9-15 July 1961, edited by A. C. Crombie, 347-69, 386-95. New York:
Basic Books.
. 1966. Review of Towards an historiography of science, history and theory, Beiheft 2,
by Joseph Agassi. British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 17:256-58.
. 1970. The structure of scientific revolutions. 2d ed., enlarged. Chicago: University
of Chicago Press.
. 1977. The essential tension: Selected studies in scientific tradition and change. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
. 1978. Black-body theory and the quantum discontinuity 1894-1912. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
. 1984. Revisiting Planck. Hist. Stud. in the Physical Sciences 14:231-52.
Laudan, L. 1983. The demise of the demarcation problem. In Physics, philosophy and psychoanalysis: Essays in honor of Adolf Grnbaum, edited by R. S. Cohen and L. Laudan,
111-27. Dordrecht, the Netherlands: Kluwer.
Lipset, Seymor Martin, and David Riesman. 1975. Education and politics in Harvard. New
York: McGraw-Hill.
Manuel, Frank E. 1968. A portrait of Isaac Newton. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press.
McKie, Donald. [1952] 1962. Antoine Lavoisier. London: Colliers.
Murzi, Mauro. 2001. Rudolf Carnap. Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Retrieved from
http://www/utm.edu/research/iep/c/carnap.htm.
Newton, Isaac. [1687] 1972. Philosophia Naturalis Principia Mathematica. Reprint,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
429
430