world view that is far more tractable conceptually than the one we have inherited. But just as the scientific realist, who wants physical theory to give us knowledge of the abiding natures of unobservable entities, is about to take solace in this possibility, Cushing reminds him that there can be no evidential basis for preferring Bohm to Bohr. The lesson of historical contingency is that evidence alone does not uniquely fix our scientific understanding of the world. Instead, empirically equivalent alternative theories are possible, and, in the case of the most fundamental theory of all, actually available. Under such conditions, no beliefs about unobservables are justified because none are epistemically privileged over rivals. So the realist faces a double challenge: prevailing theory tells him nothing coherent about the microworld, and the availability of a more informative alternative to prevailing theory tells him that no theory is to be believed. There is certainly a lesson for the realist here. He cannot simply take a successful theory as current science presents it, assess its evidential record, and pronounce a realist interpretation justified. He must investigate its history to learn the extent to which nonepistemic factors promoted it over alternatives. Worse, he must be prepared to elicit such alternatives himself, for nonepistemic influences on science could have suppressed their very appearance or consideration. Philosophers (unlike historians and sociologists) have taken it to be part of scientific method to seek and explore viable options before accepting any theory, so that scientific unanimity carries a presumption of superiority over possible rivals. But according to Cushing, the fact that a successful theory is unrivaled may have more to do with its political or psychological hegemony than with the force of evidence. These are strong concessions, but they are concessions that the realist should be prepared to make anyway on independent grounds. Because the probative force of a theory’s predictive successes depends on the history of its provenance, a realism that assesses only the finished scientific product in the manner of Cushing’s caricature is a nonstarter. And even as he hopes for some division of labor, the realist must recognize that an equally warranted rival to a favored theory may yet emerge. How much these concessions cost realism is a difficult issue that Cushing does not decide. But in response to the challenge that Cushing mounts, the realist has several points to make. First, the supposed double threat conflates two realisms: a metaphysical realism that wants stable physical properties independent of observation, and an epistemic realism that wants it to be possible for empirical evidence to justify theoretical beliefs. The epistemic realist will abandon metaphysical realism (so defined) if the theory he is justified in believing denies the independence of physical properties. Indeed, it takes epistemic realism to
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reject metaphysical realism because of the success of quantum mechanics. Second, the fact that they share the same formalism may guarantee that two theories are empirically equivalent. But empirical equivalence is not evidential equivalence. Because the novelty of a theory’s predictive success affects the probative weight of that success, the inference from empirical equivalence to the purely pragmatic character of criteria of choice is a nonsequitur. Then there is the question of how much weight to accord a single, albeit fundamental, example. One might expect a book-length treatment of the history of physics to bolster the thesis of historical contingency with further cases. J. Leplin
Francis Bacon by II Zagorin
Wiley, 1998. L19.95 hardback (xvi + 286 pages) ISBN 0 691 05928 4 On the dust jacket of this new book there is a 19th-century engraving of its subject as a youth, based on a terracotta bust done around 1572. The engraving is a profile view that slightly exaggerates the size of the boy’s head, thereby signaling the expanse of his mind. The image aligns itself with the words Nicholas Hilliard embossed on the miniature he did of Bacon in 1578: ‘Si tabula daretur digna, animum mallem’ (‘If I could only paint his mind’). Many have tried in words, fascinated by the reach and eloquence of that mind while distressed by its ‘moral coarseness’ and habit of dissimulation. ‘It is a heavy irony,’ writes Zagorin, ‘that he himself, a man who expressed the strongest allegiance to the principle of judicial integrity and tried in numerous ways to improve the administration of justice, should have been lax enough to accept gifts from suitors and to suffer the misfortune of removal from his office for bribery.’ So heavy, indeed, that we might suppose it will require the imagination and daring of a novelist to write a satisfactory biography of such a Jekyll and Hyde figure. Until then, however, we have many studies of that extraordinary mind in operation. In tbe past 30 years or so there has been a surge of interest in the whole range of Bacon’s writings, with some of the best commentary coming from Italy. But English scholars have made notable contributions as well, while in America there seems to be no end to the books, articles and dissertations produced on Bacon. All this makes timely the appearance of Zagorin’s book, a selfdescribed ‘history of Bacon’s mind’ composed in less than 250 fluent pages. As a survey of Bacon’s thought and what others - primarily recent writers - have made of it, the book is very well done. Zagorin outlines Bacon’s thinking on a wide range of matters, and wisely allows him to speak for himself whenever possible. For whether discussing science, philosophy,
- see front matter 0 1999 Elsevier Science. All rights reserved.
law, politics or history, Bacon invariably wrote with clarity, imagination and a conlidence persuasive in itself. (Often we read as we live: ready to follow those who seem to know.) Occasionally Zagorin himself seems only slightly less confident of his own judgment, dismissing with scarcely a hearing those who see matters otherwise than he does. Nonetheless, he has read Bacon closely. He argues convincingly, for example, that Bacon’s philosophy of induction includes a role for theory. Convincing as well is his exposition of Bacon’s conception of progress and how it was energized by his philanthropic instinct. This has long been noted to have been in conflict with the more unseemly passages of his personal and professional life, a ‘brief and selective’ summary of which forms the introductory chapter of Zagorin’s book. Why exactly it is included is unclear, since its contents are only randomly referenced in the remainder of the text. Thus, while Zagorin shrewdly suggests a link between Bacon’s early ‘proclivity’ to withhold ‘higher [scientific] truths from the unworthy’ and the ‘strategy of indirection, concealment, and dissembling’ that marked his political career, he avoids connecting the life in politics to the work it sheds so much light on, The History of the Reign
of King
Henry
the Seventh.
And to come back to an earlier comment, is labeling as ‘a heavy irony’ the disparity between Bacon’s judicial behavior and his high-minded writings on judicial integrity really a sufficient comment? Zagorin did not set out to write a life of Bacon, but if one attempts the ‘history of the mind’ are not the character and the career too closely woven to be treated separately? And if one thinks they are not, should it not be explained how this can be so? Still, as a study of Bacon’s thought Zagorin’s book is a signal achievement. For it manages to be both a fine introduction for those seeking to know its subject and a worthwhile commentary for those who think they already do. Jonathan
Marwil
Hermaphrodites and the Medical Invention of Sex by A.D. Dreger
Harvard University Press, 1998. $35.00, E23.50 hardback (xiii + 320 pages) ISBN 0 674 08927 8 As a general rule, PhD theses do not make good books, and unfortunately this book is no exception. It is far too narrow in its scope to appeal to a wider audience. It concentrates solely on the history of the biomedical treatment of intersex humans in France and Britain in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and ignores much that has gone on before, and most that has come afterwards. Thus, the case histories are not informed by current scientific understanding of the conditions in question. And to
Endeavour
Vol. 23(i)
1999
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