Now, I will begin to face my critics.
I have been accused of presenting an “unconventional” history of science. Apparently, to depart from convention is a serious crime. How do I plead? Am I guilty or innocent?
In a very important sense, I confess to being innocent. My book does not contain any new discoveries in the history of science. What I say about the discoveries of great scientists can be found in the writings of the scientists themselves or in the writings of the best historians of science (see the references at the end of the book). For example, my account of Galileo’s discoveries relies heavily on the work of Stillman Drake, whom I regard as the best of the Galileo scholars. There was a time when Drake’s view of Galileo was very “unconventional”; most historians regarded Galileo as a Platonist who arrived at conclusions by thought experiments and mathematical deduction, whereas Drake showed that Galileo was a brilliant experimentalist. Scholars such as Drake conduct painstaking investigations to discover previously unknown facts about what scientists actually did. This is not the type of work I do, so I rely on those who do it.
In another sense, however, I am proud to be guilty as charged. My account of the history is unconventional because I have condensed an enormous amount of material in order to reveal the essential logic of the discovery process. For example, starting from more than 2,000 pages of material written by Galileo himself, or by Drake and other historians, I boiled it down to a 20 page section of my book that focuses on the crucial discoveries and the method that led to them. By today’s standards, this is unconventional; any essentialized account is typically dismissed as simplistic. Contemporary academics suffer from a disease that can be characterized as “complexity worship.” As a result, they bury the important points under mountains of trivia. I have tried to sift through the details and clear most of them away—in order to reveal the buried treasures.
At times, this ruthless process of essentializing forced me to make painful decisions. For example, I omitted discussion of Newton’s famous “rings” experiment, in which he associated a wavelength with each color of light. This is one of the most brilliant experiments of the 17th century, and a personal favorite of mine. But it was not absolutely necessary for what I needed to say about Newton’s theory of colors, so I cut it out.
On the other hand, I sometimes included experiments that are omitted in most other historical accounts. For example, I included an experiment that Newton himself left out of his Optics book—the one where he looked through a prism at a thread painted half blue and half red. In this case, I judged the experiment to be essential to the logic of his discovery process. Another case can be found in Chapter 5 on atomic theory: most historians omit the discovery of ozone, but I think it is crucial because it refuted a major objection to Avogadro’s law.
In every case, my selection criterion was the same: Is a particular point or experiment absolutely necessary to arrive at the generalization I am trying to reach? My selection criterion was not: What do most other historians usually say?
Prof. Harriman,
I just wanted to thank you for this statement. I don’t suppose that your statement is either altogether obligatory or specifically necessary for the careful and informed scientific thinker, but it _should_ now do quite a bit to “clear the air.” Not so coincidentally, you’ve also offered a helpful reminder as to what the real nature and purpose of both science and epistemology are, and I’m particularly grateful for that as well.
It’s my hope that your clientele who apparently include grade school teachers will use their good sense to pay attention to what’s essential in teaching scientific theory simply because what’s essential is what’s most important (certainly in this context!)
Cheers and continued success,
Greg
“By today’s standards, this is unconventional; any essentialized account is typically dismissed as simplistic.”
Fantastic sentence. This is very apparent in the field of economics (where I make my living). The rule is obfuscate, obfuscate, obfuscate. And if someone challenges a speaker to make himself clear, they simply accuse him of simplistic thinking and imply (or express) that he is just to stupid to understand what is being said. It generally works to shut people up and make them give you a carte blanche gold star stamp of approval. And its easy to have the few dissenters thrown out of class.
McCaskey’s review on Amazon gets a lot of attention for that reason, I think. The only thing clear is that he dislikes your work and wants to see it rewritten with his approval. I think he has a tiger by the tail, though. This whole episode for the last few months was far more about defending you and Dr. Peikoff. Now, I want to see McClaskey taken down. He has a tiger by the tail, I think.
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Thank you for this important and outstanding book, Mr. Harriman. I have been one who has been steadfastly convinced that The Logical Leap speaks for itself to anyone willing and able to listen. I do not believe that a response to your detractors, beyond that which can be found within the book itself, is necessary. However, I do hope that for those (few) whose questions concerning your historical accuracy have been genuinely honest, your response will help them to understand the issue involved and allow them to move forward and reap the immense benefits that your book has to offer.
Dr. Harriman,
Could you please address the “spiral” vs. “linear” discovery issue? That question always struck me as more relevant than the “unconventional history” criticism. It does seem to me that your book portrays a more linear discovery process, whereas my personal experience seems to indicate that discovery and invention occur in a more spiral process.
Also, I really liked the Maxwell section of the audio course. I thought it added a lot to the discussion, and from what I could tell, Dr. Peikoff was very interested and enthusiastic about discussing Maxwell. Why did you choose to omit Maxwell from the book?
Thanks for your consideration.
–Ed.
Thank you for your accomplishment. You don’t deserve to have to make such an explanation as you’ve made here, but I suppose that’s the way it goes sometimes. I want you to know that there are those who know what you’ve achieved with ‘Logical Leap’, and those who know the purpose of your so-called unconventional method (which I prefer to call an accurate and essentialized method). I’m not a scholar in Ayn Rand’s work, although I have studied her and have a thorough understanding of her philosophy; but I think my understanding allows me this speculation: Ayn Rand would be proud of what you have accomplished. You’ve not only stayed true to her discoveries; you’ve broadened their scope. There’s little greater in this world than a book like ‘Logical Leap’, and I hope you know that your book’s greatness will never be diminished by random historicism or whiny subjectivism. Even if it could, there are men like myself waiting to defend it.
Because you are looking at these past geniuses in an entirely new way would that not automatically make it “unconventional” ? As to the mental process of induction, were the discoverers not far more concerned with unraveling nature’s secrets than delving into the workings of their own minds?
To focus on the means to knowledge is “unconventional” if all other historian have primarily looked at the knowledge without considering the role played by induction.
BTW, thanks for putting your thoughts to paper and sharing with the world. gs
I unfortunately haven’t yet read either your book or any of the criticisms (though I will), but your remarks on “unconventionality” and “the simplistic” are absolutely correct. I have encountered these sorts of arguments myself when arguing for Rand’s thoughts and in reactions to my own theories about math epistemology.
As a textbook editor, I have even encountered this “complexity worship” in academic writing style: authors will avoid the right word or the succinct expression like the plague, and there seems to be an actual fear of clarity.
Mr. Harriman’s explanation makes clear that not only are the criticisms made against The Logical Leap unfounded, but they are actually criticisms of one of the book’s many virtues.
Prof. Harriman:
I will buy the book, the line on academics loving complexity is priceless in itself. They adore complexity because they are unable to fully understand their subject. Simplicity would invite rational criticism of most work.
The more obtuse the better, as an undergraduate I saw professors BS students all the time. If you cannot explain a difficult concept to a 12 year old in terms he would understand, you do not fully understand your field of study.
It occurs to me that–fine–you put a few words out of order. The good that is coming from this is that you get to make clear an extremely important part of your work. You get to reessentialize the need to essentialize.
Its just too bad that it couldn’t have come from some pedantic, intrinsicist physics professor from Harvard or Yale. If it had been one of those, you could have just said “Oh, you are right. Good job catching a concrete error, but now let me explain why your dithering did not produce any real result.” And, it would have been fine.
I bet the Havahd professah would have chosen a slightly classier forum than Amazon.com as well. (You don’t have to post this–but feel free to, if you like)
I purchased a third copy as my personal gratitude for your book. I needed a second for annotations. But the third (and this public anouncement) is my way to denounce and razz the irrational parts of the comments and criticisms I have read and heard regarding this unique and valuable book.
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