At today’s regular meeting we discussed the question of paradigms in the history of scientific instruments, and I offered some views. Here I’ll spell them out a bit more fully.
At present, the history of scientific instruments does not seem to have formed a relatively unified and distinctive research paradigm. On this point, Teacher Wu seems inclined to think that studies of individual instruments belong to the “initial stage” of scholarship in the history of science and technology: instruments, like manuscripts, artifacts, and other primary historical sources, are the foundation of historical research. But through further study, the results we obtain from these basic materials still ultimately have to crystallize into certain topics and enter the space of debate among academic peers.
Of course, this path does exist. In general, there is an “ascending” route from historical materials, to historical narrative, to historical issues, to historical theory. But I think that when we single out “the history of scientific instruments” as an independent branch of the history of science and technology, it also has another standpoint or route, which could be called a descending route or a converging route. The history of scientific instruments is about drawing on the ready-made results of existing historiography, historical theory, general histories, and so on, and finally “grounding” them in the narration of a particular artifact. This artifact itself becomes the focal point of research in the history of instruments—rather than the issue being the focal point.
This means that the “artifact” itself “takes the master’s place” in academic research. To give an example: once a research article on a certain instrument has been written, we always ask, what is the academic value of this article? What academic problem does it solve? According to the traditional understanding, we always have to find every possible way to make an “elevating” defense: for instance, that the invention of this instrument was representative, that it reflected what kind of social background or ideological premise of the time, or even what kind of reference significance it has for our current science and technology policy… But now we can turn the question around: what kinds of inspiration can the existing research background in intellectual history provide for our interpretation of this instrument? What benefit do historiographical controversies in social history offer for telling the story of this instrument? What plot elements can those larger academic trajectories and debates add to the story of this instrument?
As an independent field of study, the “history of scientific instruments” is, in a certain sense, characterized by anti-theorization and anti-systematization. It no longer starts from theory and issues to define its own “research significance”; instead, it starts from concrete artifacts and establishes its significance on that basis.
Of course, we immediately find that this seems to fall into a circle. Where, after all, does the research significance of an artifact come from? Galileo’s telescope has great research significance, first of all because Galileo is of great significance in the history of science; so it seems that the artifact still does not have an independent research significance, and still has to appeal to some higher level of problem consciousness.
Of course, the circular questioning can continue still further: why is Galileo significant? Partly because he improved the telescope and conducted many important investigations through it. These investigations ultimately shaped modern science, and modern science in turn transformed material civilization, giving rise to the production of a large number of new artifacts. Artifacts, people, discourse, theory— their significance is always mutually constituted and mutually entangled. So when I say “establishing research significance from the artifact,” I certainly do not mean an absolute endpoint, but only a temporary stopping point. We can pause for a moment before the artifact, confine research and discussion to its vicinity, and not rush to think about elevation or extension.
The artifact provides the center of a research domain, and provides the focal point for interpretation and debate.
Such artifacts are treated as “actants” in Latour’s sense. An actant is not completely passive, dependent, or subordinate; it has a certain degree of agency and independence. If the meaning of an artifact always has to be explained by some value scale or theoretical framework outside the artifact, then it is still only people talking to themselves. The premise for “letting the artifact speak” is to place the artifact at center stage. Although “speech” is always human language, when humans are not speaking by reference to some self-righteous theory or purpose, but are speaking freely around the artifact, when we let discourse attach itself to the artifact rather than making the artifact attach itself to discourse, only then does “the artifact speaks” become possible.
What the artifact “says” may not always be something that allows one to infer the general from the particular or discern the profound in the subtle; sometimes it says vacuous things with no clear point, and sometimes it runs counter to human expectations. For example, an artifact can sometimes serve as a paradigm, but more often it turns out to be an exception, not in keeping with the social trends of the time. Precisely because there are these bits of empty talk and contrary talk that are hard to use for extension or elevation, the “speech” of artifacts becomes a kind of independent voice.
Of course, there is no absolute independence, just as with “people”: an independent figure likewise has a social background and intellectual premises, and likewise will have empty talk and contrary talk. In this respect, history centered on artifacts and history centered on people are the same: in historical research, artifacts acquire a status similar to that of people.
So, if we ask what comes closest to the “paradigm” of the “history of instruments,” it is better to say “biography” than “social history of science,” “history of technology,” “history of material culture,” and so on. Writing the history of an instrument is like writing a biography for an artifact. Different people have different profiles: some are active in social affairs, some are devout in religious belief, some have systematized ideas, some are good at action rather than thought… For different people, we may need to draw on different bodies of research in social history, intellectual history, political history, religious history, economic history, and so on; we cannot make a blanket judgment.
Another similarity is that the research significance of biography is not necessarily theoretical or guided by issue consciousness; it may instead be private or aesthetic— I think this person’s character is especially luminous, or this person’s style is very interesting; in short, this person is “interesting,” and therefore worth studying. The same goes for the history of instruments: interesting, exquisite, distinctive, fun… all can be reasons for research. And private reasons have one more item: “fate” — we happen to have collected this instrument. When I have collected it, and am reluctant to throw it away, the reason to study it is already sufficiently strong.
Of course, in academia, the reason or significance of a study is not only for self-accounting; more importantly, it is to attract the attention of peers and readers. But just like the richness of a person, the artifact itself provides attraction. Research on the history of scientific instruments pairs best with science museums: a science museum is like a stage, linking one independent individual after another into a fascinating performance. And a museum links one independent instrument after another into a fascinating exhibition. The wholeness of the stage and the independence of the individuals are not contradictory; on the contrary, a good stage can better highlight the independent character of each figure.
In fact, I don’t really do much research on the history of scientific instruments, and I’m not sure whether these views of mine are new or just commonplace. Interested students are welcome to help me refine them; we could even coauthor a paper.
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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