Li Gongming
The Hedgehog, the Fox and the Imprint of the Doctor: Bridging the Gap Between Science and the Humanities, by Stephen Jay Gould, translated by Yang Sha, The Commercial Press, June 2020 edition, 352 pp. 65.00
American paleontologist, evolutionary biologist, and historian of science Stephen Jay Gould (1941-2002) for Hedgehog, the fox, and the magister's pox: mending the gap between science and the the Humanities, 2003; translated by Yang Sha, The Commercial Press, June 2020) is his last book, beginning in 2000 when he gave his inaugural speech as president and chairman of the board of directors of the American Association for the Advancement of Science (aaas), but he died before completing the final proofreading of the book. The subject of the book sounds like an old story, and the possibility of differences, conflicts, connections, and convergence between the natural and humanities seems to have been an old topic in the field of philosophy of science, but Gould clearly does not think that the controversy has been settled once and for all. At the turn of the millennium, he saw the age-old debate reshaped into a "science war" between "realists" (scientists) and "relativists" (humanities and social science researchers), and realized that despite the pluralism of this era and the rejection of definite solutions, we still need to properly heal the long-standing conflict between science and the humanities and should learn from each other and grow together under the ideal banner of "consilience". He chose this subject as the subject of his speech at this moment, and the final development into this work shows that he has a deep understanding of its importance and urgency.
It may seem like a coincidence that at the turn of the millennium, I was also thinking and studying this topic. In 1998, the China Culture Newspaper launched a discussion on the relationship between the humanities and natural sciences, and I also participated. This discussion later resulted in the "Science and Humanities Dialogue Series", one of which I wrote, "Slavery and Resistance: A Dialogue between Science and Art" (Jiangsu People's Publishing House, January 2001). Gould said that he "took a peculiar but essentially historical approach" to the supposed conflict between science and the humanities (p. 25), which happened to be my approach. My first chapter, "'Science' and 'Art' in the Jungle of Historical Words," is a historical retrospective guided by etymology, which was later included in the Art and Science Reader (edited by Dai Wusan and Liu Bing, Shanghai Jiao Tong University Press, 2008), and I believe that the editors also chose it from the perspective of historical research paths. In the similar research themes, my specific research objects and perspectives are very different from Gould's: his objects, perspectives and focuses on the relationship between disciplines, and my focus is on the ontological study of science and art from the perspective of identity and difference—focusing on the fundamental attributes and characteristics of science and art, as well as the dynamic characteristics and interactions of the two in the course of historical development. From the long-term evolution of value rationality and instrumental rationality in the history of thought, the critical reflection on the hegemony of scientific and technological discourse and the aesthetic struggle of modernism have emerged from the conflict between these two forces in modern times. Although the two perspectives and paths are different, they can be said to be the same destination, that is, Gould's colleague e. o. Wilson (e. o. Wilson) expressed the view: "The greatest cause of the human mind has been, and will always be, an attempt to link science and the humanities. (Preface, p. 3)
Speaking of which, it is possible to talk in passing about the differences that once existed between Wilson and Gould. In the process of studying and proposing sociobiology, Edward O. Wilson opposed the antisocial biology based on "anti-racism" and various ideologies, and in his preface to the 1999 edition of Sociobiology: The New Synthesis (with the reprint of Chinese translated by Mao Shengxian et al., Beijing Institute of Technology Press, 2008), "Sociobiology at the Turn of the Century", he talked about the connection between opponents such as Gould and Levodin and left-wing ideas. Today, of course, we all know that the recognition that personality and intellectual variation have a certain genetic basis is not logically necessarily linked to unjust acts of social discrimination and the practice of seeking unfair political and economic privileges for the benefit of the family. However, from Gould's discussion of the "integration" problem in the book, the ideological differences that once occurred between Wilson and Gould were not mixed in, and Gould's different opinions on Wilson's "integration" research path were not affected by political ideological factors at all.
Gould begins his book by representing the roles of the humanities and sciences with the image of the fox and the hedgehog in the Zoology of the sixteenth-century Swiss naturalist Konrad Gesner, by discussing Erasmus of Rotterdam's quote to the ancient Greek poet Archilochus's proverb "The fox knows more, and the hedgehog knows more". Gould says the fox and the hedgehog embody their respective well-known symbols (the fox is scheming and the hedgehog perseveres), expresses his views on the relationship between science and the humanities, and offers advice on how to make a fruitful union between the two. But note that Gould carefully reminds readers that he does not simply claim that science is a hedgehog and that the humanities work like foxes, while saying that he does not make simplistic comparisons. (Foreword, p. 3) As a historian of science, his research path is both historical, philological, philosophical, and even iconographic; whether it is the perspective, method, or representation of the point of view, he has always paid attention to finding the complexity and subtle similarities and differences between the various views and methods of argument. In fact, in reading, we sometimes feel that the author's prudence, twists and more old-school humor will bring some difficulties in understanding, and the difficulty of translation can also be felt here.
In this book, Gould wants to clarify the truth of the complex relationship between science and the humanities, and the core point is that science and the humanities are both fundamentally different and closely related, hedgehogs and foxes have their own strengths, and the real relationship between the two major fields of human intellectual kingdom should be harmonious and different and complementary. From a more specific point of view, Gould is more from the standpoint of science, hoping to use the power of the humanities to help science discover its own problems and defects and solve the problems of scientific development. "The 'abstract' of my three arguments is that science needs the humanities to teach us the eccentric and rather subjective side of our careers, to teach us ideal communication skills, and to set the right boundaries for our abilities," he said. (p. 180) But by demonstrating the necessity and possibility of integrating different cognitive strategies in the sciences and the humanities, his ultimate goal is to advocate a convergence of the two on a common goal and a higher intellectual level. "In this way, we can combine our factual skills with our moral wisdom into a barrier and weapon to work together for the good of humanity in this age of imminent danger." (Ibid.) The main thrust and structure of such expositions are not too complicated to sound, but it is not easy to carry out solid arguments in the paths of history, philosophy of science and philology, and Gould's research skills and knowledge are fully demonstrated in his path selection, historical debate and viewpoint debate, leading the reader through the dark and tortuous labyrinth of the history of science and thought.
In the first chapter, Gould discusses his approach to research and argumentation that belongs to history. He begins by acknowledging that the birth of science in the 17th century was inevitably accompanied by conflicts with the humanities, and the second and third chapters deal with the tension and conflict between science and the humanities, religious traditions, and social orthodoxy, respectively. The new interpretation of the world proposed by the scientific revolution was attacked by religious censorship and the instincts of the traditional humanities, which in turn provoked a counterattack from the forces of science, and the key issue was the struggle for the right to speak. This is the basic content of the first part, "Rituals and Rights at the Beginning of Parting," at which dr. Métrice appears as a representative of censorship and "threats of repression." The second part, "From Bacon's Age of Paradox to Swift's Sweetness and Light," argues that there is no such thing as an absolutist and simplistic antagonistic camp between science and the humanities by explaining the complexity and multifacetedness of the "ancient and modern wars" to the "war of science," and argues that the relationship between science and the humanities is not opposed to each other. The third part first continues the main thrust of the second part, illustrating the possibilities and bright prospects of the integration of science and the humanities through the examples of Haeckel, Nabokov, Thayer, Alan Poe and others. He then focused the problem on his colleague Wilson borrowing the concept of "consilince" proposed by the British scientist Schuele in 1840 to express the idea that all disciplines (including all fields of the humanities) could ultimately be finally explained in science, as a view that science and the humanities should remain independent, provide each other with enlightening perspectives and research methods, and jointly explain the world, and of course Gould could not agree with this view, and proposed that the "integration" he sought meant that "integration" meant that "integration" was "universal" and that "integration" was of course not agreeable to him. 'Bringing together' science and the humanities for greater and more fruitful engagement and coherence – but a kind of integration without discrimination, respecting each other's inherent differences, acknowledging their comparable but distinctive values, understanding the absolute necessity of these two fields for any intellectually and spiritually 'full' life, and seeking to emphasize and nourish countless areas that actually overlap and share common concerns. ...... Let's... At the same time, science and humanities are the pillars to support the curtain of wisdom." (327 pages)
Gould's path of historical research is strictly speaking the history of the intellectual and relational history of the discipline of historical contextualism, and its argument structure and perspective remind me of the Austrian theoretical biologist Ludwig von Bertalanffy's "The Problem of Life: An Evaluation of Modern Biological Thought" (translated by Wu Xiaojiang, Commercial Press, 1999), The section on the philosophical origins of the theory of the organism expresses the idea that the theory of the organism, with classical German philosophy as one of the sources of thought, acknowledges that modern science not only has no monopoly on the explanatory power of natural reality, but on the contrary joins hands with myth, poetry, and philosophy; Betalongfi repeatedly quotes the profound and elegant poetry of Goethe and Hölderlin as containing "the deepest knowledge". There is also french thinker Edgar Morin's Lost Paradigm: A Study of Human Nature (translated by Chen Yizhuang, Peking University Press, 1999), which aims to illustrate the complexity of reality, especially pointing out the complex situation of science and art, and thus seeking to establish a complex mode of thinking that integrates various disciplines. It is somewhat regrettable that in Gould's book there is no mention of these two thinkers who share the same subjects, ideas, and fundamental ideas as his research, and it was their views that gave me a firm confidence in the idea of wholeness and complementarity when I wrote "Dialogue between Science and Art."
In Gould's book, there are some gossip anecdotes of scientific celebrities that pop up, and I think that in addition to Gulder's penmanship and desire to enliven the atmosphere of the article, I may also want to show some of the more personal and accidental factors in the difference of opinion. For example, with regard to Gesner's thirty-six-page "De Sue" ("On pigs") by deliberately collecting all the material on pigs, Gould says that those who ridicule him should revise their assumptions (p. 49); for example, Nabokov constantly states that he is only concerned with the precision of the facts when talking about butterflies, but literary critics always like to emphasize what eternal symbolism his butterflies have. From this rather comedic dislocation, Gould saw the uniqueness and significance of Nabokov's efforts to break the boundary between art and science. (pp. 206-209)
We know that the use of the name of a certain animal in the title of a book is a preference of Gould. But it seems a little unusual to include the person who appears as a "doctor" in the title of the book, while also pointing out his "imprint". Gould devotes twenty pages to "Dr. Médiss's Directive: The Threat of Repression" in the fourth chapter, and before that he has devoted himself to and dealt with the issue of official censorship of scientific publications, and Gould clearly has a very keen awareness and importance of censorship of publications in the development of science. Dr. Medic and his disciples behind the hedgehog and the fox, although they only appeared briefly as representatives of religious censorship during the birth of science, their "imprints" and careers were far from over. In addition, in the eyes of experienced literature researchers, there is valuable documentary value in Gould's detective-style analysis and critical discourse.
Gould began by arguing that the proponents of new scientific doctrines were in danger of being suppressed, and that the psychological burden, from real fears of life to constant fear, should not be underestimated, and keenly pointed out that the reason for the condemnation of new doctrines was the alleged violation of sectarian edicts, which in the eyes of secular rulers "are important to justify their right to continue to hold power." (p. 63) He then begins with the literature on specific censorship reports, approval announcements, and authors' dedications, showing the state of censorship in the early scientific age.
Leaving aside the gun-killing censorship, Gould also saw in the wording of a publication permit for Ulisse aldrovandi's 1639 publication On Quadrupeds Without Toes and Hooves that "seems simply chilling to us modernly." The first examiner routinely stated that he did not find anything in the book that violated the doctrines of the Divine Faith or the moral codes that existed; the second examiner stated that he had found nothing that offended the ears of devout audiences or church rules. "So the directive declares: imprimatur igitur is allowed." Gould said that he did not want to exaggerate the frightening effect of such an announcement, which all books published at that time had to obtain such official approval, and therefore this permission to make a proclamation was merely a formulaic label of the times; but on the other side of the printing permit he saw a tribute from Aldrovandi to Bishop Marfeo Barbarini, who had always been regarded by intellectuals as a friend of science and free learning, and yet it was he who in 1633 supported the trial of Galileo by the Roman Inquisition. Gould said it was "a terrible symbolic statement that sent chills down my back because I didn't expect it to be a further reminder of the real dangers of repression, which could include jail time and bodily harm." (p. 67) In his view, the dedication suggests that at a time intellectuals "did not usually seem to have the respect and independence they wanted as a realistic option," and that the uneasiness and fear felt by scientists was real.
The protagonists of the next case are the naturalist Conrad Gesner and the Catholic censor Dr. Medis and his disciples, whom are discussed at the beginning of the book. Gould's collection of Gesner's great zoological work, On Quadriplens, published in 1551—was the work that piqued his interest in writing the book, and he found that Gesner's name had been erased in two ways: first by altering the original printed letters with ink to make them illegible, and then by attaching a note directly to the name, which was later torn off. Later, a bibliophile wrote Gesner's name in ink above the original imprint. (p. 70) This is just a prelude, and the climax is yet to come. Although there is nothing religiously or morally wrong with Gesner's work, Dr. Médith and his disciples painstakingly and dutifully imprint themselves page by page throughout the book (1104 pages in total)—erasing Gesner and the names of the two men he constantly mentions in the book: Erasmus of Rotterdam and Sebastian Munster, who published the Chronicle of the World. Although Gesner's book has not yet been included in the Catholic Catalogue of Banned Books, he was the godson and disciple of the important Swiss Protestant reformer ulrich zwingli; Erasmus and Münster, though still Catholic, opposed idolatry and lacked devout orthodoxy. They are obviously unpopular figures from both religious and secular authorities. "Assigned to this censor was the essentially stupid and undoubtedly very boring task of deleting the names of all Protestants (including the author Gesner himself) and less orthodox Catholics." (p. 332) Gould, apparently sympathetic and sympathetic, found that the censor had some fun with himself in this extremely boring task, changing lines of different thicknesses and various scribbles as he scribbled different names. There were certainly some more scholarly jobs than to alter people's names, such as dressing up a few quotes from Gesner's translation of the Bible and painstakingly attaching the official version of the Recognized Catholic Church; or depicting his name in gold because Columbus declared the New World to belong to the Catholic king of Spain. Gould said, "Until I read the whole book, the patternS I saw finally made me feel ridiculous rather than extremely evil." (72 pages)
The final climax is that Gould, with the help of a friend, collectively interprets the line of mysterious words written on the blank page in front of the title page: "This dangerous book describing the fetal quadrupeds can be read without the need to leave the church." For, according to the instructions of Dr. Magister lelio medice of the Holy Roman Catholic Inquisition in the Bishopric of Pisa, all [fragments] in this book that should have been removed have been scribbled. (p. 79) Dr. Médisse and his disciples finally appeared, all to whom they owe all the credit for the above. Gould also finally raised his head in the work of handwriting recognition and literature interpretation: "It's a bit chilling — what else can we say — despite the large number of deletions that have been made that are both pretentious and innocuous." Dr. Lelio Médiss will not go down in history as a scientific or academic friend – although he has already gained some vague and ephemeral fame in the title of this book! (ibid.)
Gould acknowledges that we have difficulty resisting the temptation to censor and destroy our enemies, as it is the common sense of man, whether religious or secular, and whether the political spectrum is right or left. But he used the example of the great chemist Antoine Laurent lavoisier to remind people: "How slowly we construct our fragile intellectual structures, and how quickly they collapse when fanatics and enemies come to power: 'The executioner cut off that head in a split second, but France may not be able to recreate that one even in a century.'" He quoted a mournful eulogy written for him by Lagrange, a close friend of Lavoisier's mathematician. (p. 82) The greatest misfortune is that later human history proves that this eulogy was not written solely for Lavoisier.
Gould continues to discuss the question of Catholic censors at the end of the book. He expressed the greatest sympathy for Media and his disciples—"As the kinds and forms to be deleted become more numerous and complex, especially as the principles of deletion become less clear and coherent, even the most conscientious overseers end up making mistakes..." (p. 332) also blames Gersner for his seriousness and meticulousness in his writing, who wrote pages of proverbs for each creature, and Erasmus was the main source of quotations, and he was very meticulous in his quotations, which tormented the poor censor— In so many places, in so many ways that name appears, and so many times in the same basic context simply and distractingly repeating the same name, both reduce the likelihood of being discovered each time. The Medis finally saw the flowers, and in the proverb section of the chapter "On the Hedgehog", although Erasmus's name had been scribbled four times dutifully, it was passed in the most symbolic position.
Even a single mistake by the Medis has prevented Gould from being completely pessimistic and disappointed, he says, and let Erasmus's unwashed name symbolize the inevitable triumph of our best intellectual and moral tendencies.... He concludes the book with Franklin's pun: "We had better hang together, or assuredly we will all hang separately."
Editor-in-Charge: Huang Xiaofeng