Endeavour最新文献

When Bryn Mawr College opened in 1885, then-president James Rhoads highlighted the precautions taken to ensure that the young women students would remain healthy, in reaction to the publicized warnings of Scottish physician Thomas S. Clouston, M.D. Dr. Clouston’s concern that girls’ higher education would damage their health epitomized a growing anxiety around the status of wives and mothers at a time of increased educational opportunities for the so-called ‘fairer sex’. To counter these opinions, college alumnae and administrators turned to statistics. Through a combination of published statistics and informal anecdotes, this article provides an in-depth study of how marriage data were solicited, tabulated, and framed at Bryn Mawr College during the Progressive Era, contributing a detailed case-study to the historiography on the period’s debates over educated women. The tension between marriage and a career in research was acutely apparent to the women in academia who were at once responsible for the statistical analysis and among the subjects under investigation. While the survey design and published results emphasized the desired outcome of marriage after graduation, these same documents also offered space for emerging professional trajectories.

The story of John Farrar (1779–1853) and Eliza Ware Rotch (1791–1870) is neither a tale about a female mathematician nor one of the “making” of a mathematical career. Rather, the productivity of John, who is known to historians of American mathematics for the Harvard College series of mathematics and natural philosophy textbooks that bears his name, had already begun to decline by the time he married Eliza in 1828. She then embarked on her own career of adapting novels and biographies for children and writing self-improvement manuals. Despite their joint efforts to continue writing and to preserve their social and professional connections, the activities of both John and Eliza were effectively brought to an end by the decades John spent fully incapacitated by illness. An exploration of how their marriage was interwoven with their careers adds details to their biographies and suggests connections to the historical analysis of dual-career marriages and to examinations of how such unions can be impacted by the poor health of one or both partners.

Within the history of mathematics and mathematics education in Nepal, Tikaram and Chandrakala Dhananjaya are relatively well-known figures for their two books Śiśubodha Taraṅgiṇī and Līlāvatī. This is despite there being almost no archival or manuscript materials offering a window into their lives: we have no letters, notebooks, diaries, or school records. Rather than focusing on either individual in isolation, in this article we present an argument for considering the Dhananjayas as an analytically indivisible collaborative couple in mathematics. Of the two aforementioned books, one is attributed to Chandrakala and the other to Tikaram; but in fact, both are translations of the same Sanskrit source text, Līlāvatī, into Nepali. By comparing the mathematical contents of these two works, which were published within a few years of each other, we explore what it means to be an author or translator of a mathematical text and propose different models of spousal collaboration which could plausibly have been adopted by the Dhananjayas. In the absence of documentary evidence, the impossibility of delineating each individual’s contributions removes the temptation to focus exclusively on apportioning credit. Instead, we offer the alternative perspective of considering what labour must have been undertaken to bring their books to publication.

In this article, the extraordinary life of the astronomer Dorothea Klumpke (1861–1942) is described in detail for the first time, focussing on the four phases of her career, in which she researched various astronomical questions both as an amateur and as an employee of an observatory and as one half of a couple in science. For this reason, Klumpke's biography provides insights into the cornucopia of research approaches in astronomy at the time, in which professional and amateur astronomers explored the heavens in observatories, on field trips to exotic countries, in their own backyards, or aboard hot air balloons, using telescopes, gazing through the lenses of cameras and spectroscopes, or based on mathematical reasoning. By comparing her life to biographies of other contemporary women, including Klumpke's sisters, among them the famous neurologist Augusta Klumpke-Déjerine, the criteria that women had to fulfill in order to pursue an academic career in the long nineteenth century will be discussed at the same time. In this, particular attention will be paid to factors over which women themselves had no influence, also to show that before the middle of the twentieth century, many stars had to align in order to have such an unusual career as Dorothea Klumpke.

The Victorian writer Mary Everest Boole (1832–1916) developed an idiosyncratic pedagogical treatment of arithmetic, algebra, and logic. Her pedagogy favored active, child-directed learning, and is now generally admired as ahead of its time, though it must be deciphered through fairly eccentric delivery. A recurring theme in Mrs. Boole’s prolific writing is the misunderstood legacy of her late husband, the renowned mathematician and logician George Boole (1815–1864). As existing literature has shown, she worked to promote a morally and religiously charged understanding of his work. More fundamentally, she presented an all-encompassing pedagogical perspective on Mr. Boole’s life and work. Across her voluminous publications, Mrs. Boole filtered everything—mathematics, logic, religion, morality, and homelife—through the lens of pedagogy. She used this expansive conception of teaching to span the gulf between professional and domestic work, thereby claiming a privileged domestic perspective on her husband’s intellectual output and enlisting his legacy as a resource for her own writing. The Booles’ entangled careers show how particular ways of practicing domesticity could shape and be shaped by mathematical identities and ideas.

The avowed atheist, evolutionary naturalist and mathematician William Kingdon Clifford is often remembered for his essay, “The Ethics of Belief,” in which he opposed organized religion in any form. As a mathematician, Clifford was an early advocate of non-Euclidean geometry in England. Combining William Rowan Hamilton’s work on quaternions with Hermann Grassmann’s theory of linear extension, he invented an original system of geometric algebra. Breaking with conservative traditionalism in his philosophical and mathematical work, Clifford’s marriage to the children’s writer, novelist, and dramatist Lucy Lane was a relatively conventional, if brief, Victorian marriage. After his untimely death from consumption in 1879, Lucy outlived her husband by fifty years. Raising their two daughters and supporting herself after his passing, Lucy refashioned Clifford’s posthumous reputation to temper his philosophical radicalism. Her collaboration with Clifford’s publisher and editor reveal Lucy’s concern that Clifford not be remembered as someone ruled by passion in his mathematical work. Her efforts to expunge writings suggestive of William’s weakness, excitability, or inconstancy from the public record demonstrates her desire to craft an image of her husband in alignment with gendered expectations of masculinity. This paper argues that Lucy fashioning of William’s memory conformed, rather than departed from, normative parameters of gender as defined by Victorian society.

Twenty-first-century discourse on science has been marked by narratives of crisis. Science is said to be experiencing crises of public trust, of peer review and publishing, of reproducibility and replicability, and of recognition and reward. The dominant response has been to “repair” the scientific literature and the system of scientific publishing through open science. This paper places the current predicament of scholarly communication in historical perspective by exploring the evolution of the scientific journal in the second half of the twentieth century. I focus on a new genre of scientific journal invented by Dutch commercial publishers shortly after World War II, and on its effects on the nature of the scientific life. I show that profit-oriented publishers and discipline-building scientists worked together to make postwar science more open, while also arguing that formats of scientific publication have their own agency.

The past two decades have seen an increase in the use of theories, data, assumptions and methods of the biological sciences in studying political phenomena. One of the approaches that combine biology with political science is genopolitics. The goal of the study was to analyse the basic ontological, methodological and epistemological assumptions for the reductionism of genopolitics. The results show that genopolitics assumes methodological reductionism but rejects ontological and epistemological reductionism. The key consequences of the findings are the irreducibility of political science to biology and the complementarity of genopolitical explanations and political science explanations based on culturalism. If my findings prove to be correct, they give rise to the formation of a hypothesis regarding the anti-reductionist orientation of the contemporary links between political science and biology. An important step towards confirming or falsifying such a hypothesis will be exploring the reductionism of contemporary biopolitical approaches such as neuropolitics or evolutionary political psychology.

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed concerns around life span and aging, but these tensions and anxieties around longevity are not new. Physicians, scientists, and philosophers have been meditating on the idea and consequences of life extension for many centuries. In this short article, we put into conversation some of the ways that people have understood longevity from the early modern period to the present. We trace the history of texts like Alvise Cornaro's Treatise on the Sober Life through present-day dieting manuals, consider accounts of extreme old age from Old Man Parr in the sixteenth century to Jeanne Calment in the twentieth, and reflect on the role of caretakers for older adults, from Gabriele Zerbi’s fifteenth-century gerontocomos to graphic novel representations of aging parents in the present. Our goal is to represent the history of human longevity and aging as integrated, dynamic processes, helping us better explain and address the present treatment of elders and how to improve their care in the future.

In 1936 the Austrian geologist Paul Waitz published a seminal bibliographical, historical essay on Colima volcano, Mexico. His article exemplifies well the paths by which geology became what Lorraine Daston has termed sciences of the archive, that is, the manner in which scientific disciplines became concerned with archival work. Waitz's historical description of studies of Colima volcano built a genealogy of observations, ultimately constructing a history of the volcano itself. By bringing attention not only to Waitz’s discourse but also to his treatment of visual objects, such as pictorial and photographic landscapes, my article points out how long-term aesthetics, such as the picturesque and the sublime, functioned as tropes which enabled a standardized perception, essential to visualize a clear history of scientific observations, from the landscape paintings of the nineteenth-century artist Johann Moritz Rugendas to Waitz’s own photographs.