<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" ><generator uri="https://jekyllrb.com/" version="4.4.1">Jekyll</generator><link href="https://collopy.net/feed/research/science.xml" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" /><link href="https://collopy.net/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" /><updated>2026-09-29T18:07:47-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/feed/research/science.xml</id><title type="html">Peter Sachs Collopy</title><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><entry><title type="html">A Prank, a Story, and an Origin of Oral History at Caltech</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2026/a-prank/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="A Prank, a Story, and an Origin of Oral History at Caltech" /><published>2026-03-31T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2026-03-31T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2026/a-prank</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2026/a-prank/"><![CDATA[In 1932, Caltech undergraduate students planned a prank on their professor, astronomer Fritz Zwicky. Zwicky often put students on the spot in class, so, noticing that he struggled with pronouncing one of their names, they put him on the spot with a harder name by registering a fictional student, Helmar Scieite, for Zwicky’s course Analytical Mechanics. Unfortunately for them, Zwicky, perhaps suspecting mischief, entirely skipped the name when taking attendance and asked instead if anyone he hadn’t named was present.

The students escalated their prank. When he administered the final exam, Zwicky wrote questions on the board and left the room; under Caltech’s Honor System, students were responsible for not cheating. Another student came into the room, copied the questions, and shared them with several graduate students, who each meticulously answered one question; the undergrad then copied the answers in uniform handwriting, “switching languages between questions,” recalled co-conspirator John Hatcher, “with interpolated insulting remarks.”

This story mutated as it spread over the years. The student pranksters became fellow faculty who resented Zwicky’s tough grading, and the events ended with Scieite receiving an A. In 1974, *Caltech News* associate editor Kay Walker investigated the story, talking to longtime faculty and writing to several alumni, prompting Hatcher to write back with the story in detail.

It was perhaps this experience of finding knowledge of the past in the minds of those present that prompted Walker to donate $300 to the Caltech Archives to begin an oral history project. In 1978, Institute Archivist Judith Goodstein hired three interviewers, Harriet Lyle, Ann Scheid, and Mary Terrall, who had previously worked for MIT’s short-lived oral history program and went on to become a history of science professor at UCLA. Before the year was out, they had interviewed chemist and Trustee Arnold Beckman, nutrition researcher Henry Borsook, soil mechanics expert Frederick Converse, economist Horace Gilbert, English professor and dean of admissions L. Winchester Jones, electrical and rocket engineer Frederick Lindvall, Jet Propulsion Laboratory co-founder Frank Malina, seismologist Charles Richter, physicist William Smythe, and chemist Ernest Swift.

Each of these oral histories was transcribed and became a volume on the shelves of the Archives, where they were consulted by Caltech community members and visiting researchers alike. Caltech deemed the pilot a success, and the Caltech Archives continued to produce oral history interviews. Over the next 45 years, we developed a collection of more than 250 interviews; it continues to grow today, now with interviews from both the Archives and the Caltech Heritage Project.

The Archives had begun a decade before the oral history project, in 1968, with the papers of George Ellery Hale, Robert Millikan, and Theodore von Kármán—unpublished records of their lives and careers, such as letters, diaries, lectures, and research notes. Faculty members and their heirs soon donated more such collections, some Caltech departments transferred their historical records, and Goodstein began bringing together thousands of photographs of Caltech and its people. Oral histories added another dimension to these collections. “History,” reported a *Caltech News* writer—perhaps Kay—“is recorded in the memories of human beings as well as in documents and letters, and Caltech is launching a program to tap this valuable, and perishable, resource for its archives.”

Decades later, in 2002, oral history transcripts were among the first items the Caltech Archives published digitally on the web, making them perhaps our most widely used collection, especially among members of the Caltech community. They have been joined online by digitized photographs, film and video, and some of our many collections of faculty papers.

Today, those faculty papers remain the heart of the Caltech Archives, and faculty and their families continue to donate more, along with increasing quantities of email and other digital media. Our collections include film, video and audiotape, dissertations, campus and student publications, websites, fine art, scientific instruments, and rare books dating back to the Scientific Revolution. We welcome appointments to visit and explore this history.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="education" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In 1932, Caltech undergraduate students planned a prank on their professor, astronomer Fritz Zwicky. Zwicky often put students on the spot in class, so, noticing that he struggled with pronouncing one of their names, they put him on the spot with a harder name by registering a fictional student, Helmar Scieite, for Zwicky’s course Analytical Mechanics. Unfortunately for them, Zwicky, perhaps suspecting mischief, entirely skipped the name when taking attendance and asked instead if anyone he hadn’t named was present. The students escalated their prank. When he administered the final exam, Zwicky wrote questions on the board and left the room; under Caltech’s Honor System, students were responsible for not cheating. Another student came into the room, copied the questions, and shared them with several graduate students, who each meticulously answered one question; the undergrad then copied the answers in uniform handwriting, “switching languages between questions,” recalled co-conspirator John Hatcher, “with interpolated insulting remarks.” This story mutated as it spread over the years. The student pranksters became fellow faculty who resented Zwicky’s tough grading, and the events ended with Scieite receiving an A. In 1974, Caltech News associate editor Kay Walker investigated the story, talking to longtime faculty and writing to several alumni, prompting Hatcher to write back with the story in detail. It was perhaps this experience of finding knowledge of the past in the minds of those present that prompted Walker to donate $300 to the Caltech Archives to begin an oral history project. In 1978, Institute Archivist Judith Goodstein hired three interviewers, Harriet Lyle, Ann Scheid, and Mary Terrall, who had previously worked for MIT’s short-lived oral history program and went on to become a history of science professor at UCLA. Before the year was out, they had interviewed chemist and Trustee Arnold Beckman, nutrition researcher Henry Borsook, soil mechanics expert Frederick Converse, economist Horace Gilbert, English professor and dean of admissions L. Winchester Jones, electrical and rocket engineer Frederick Lindvall, Jet Propulsion Laboratory co-founder Frank Malina, seismologist Charles Richter, physicist William Smythe, and chemist Ernest Swift. Each of these oral histories was transcribed and became a volume on the shelves of the Archives, where they were consulted by Caltech community members and visiting researchers alike. Caltech deemed the pilot a success, and the Caltech Archives continued to produce oral history interviews. Over the next 45 years, we developed a collection of more than 250 interviews; it continues to grow today, now with interviews from both the Archives and the Caltech Heritage Project. The Archives had begun a decade before the oral history project, in 1968, with the papers of George Ellery Hale, Robert Millikan, and Theodore von Kármán—unpublished records of their lives and careers, such as letters, diaries, lectures, and research notes. Faculty members and their heirs soon donated more such collections, some Caltech departments transferred their historical records, and Goodstein began bringing together thousands of photographs of Caltech and its people. Oral histories added another dimension to these collections. “History,” reported a Caltech News writer—perhaps Kay—“is recorded in the memories of human beings as well as in documents and letters, and Caltech is launching a program to tap this valuable, and perishable, resource for its archives.” Decades later, in 2002, oral history transcripts were among the first items the Caltech Archives published digitally on the web, making them perhaps our most widely used collection, especially among members of the Caltech community. They have been joined online by digitized photographs, film and video, and some of our many collections of faculty papers. Today, those faculty papers remain the heart of the Caltech Archives, and faculty and their families continue to donate more, along with increasing quantities of email and other digital media. Our collections include film, video and audiotape, dissertations, campus and student publications, websites, fine art, scientific instruments, and rare books dating back to the Scientific Revolution. We welcome appointments to visit and explore this history.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Joseph Gordon-Levitt Explores Where Film &amp;amp; Science Collide in LA</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2026/gordon-levitt/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Joseph Gordon-Levitt Explores Where Film &amp;amp; Science Collide in LA" /><published>2026-02-24T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2026-02-24T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2026/gordon-levitt</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2026/gordon-levitt/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

To celebrate the city of Los Angeles in the wake of last year's devastating fires, <cite>Architectural Digest</cite> asked a group of iconic Angelenos to share their favorite local places. This is Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s love letter to LA. The actor joins <cite>Architectural Digest</cite> at Caltech to explore how science, technology, and Hollywood filmmaking intersect in one of the world’s leading research institutions. From founding the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, which helped with the first moon landings, and NASA continues to manage today, to astrophysicist Kip Thorne’s collaboration with Christopher Nolan on <cite>Interstellar</cite>, discover why Joseph Gordon-Levitt believes the relationship between art and science makes Los Angeles one of the most important cities for science, and vital to its future.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[To celebrate the city of Los Angeles in the wake of last year’s devastating fires, Architectural Digest asked a group of iconic Angelenos to share their favorite local places. This is Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s love letter to LA. The actor joins Architectural Digest at Caltech to explore how science, technology, and Hollywood filmmaking intersect in one of the world’s leading research institutions. From founding the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, which helped with the first moon landings, and NASA continues to manage today, to astrophysicist Kip Thorne’s collaboration with Christopher Nolan on Interstellar, discover why Joseph Gordon-Levitt believes the relationship between art and science makes Los Angeles one of the most important cities for science, and vital to its future.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Electrifying Los Angeles</title><link href="https://collopy.net/teaching/2026/electrifying/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Electrifying Los Angeles" /><published>2026-01-08T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2026-01-08T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/teaching/2026/electrifying</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/teaching/2026/electrifying/"><![CDATA[<p>This term we will be exploring the meteoric rise of modern Los Angeles through two lenses: the history of its energy infrastructure and of our own institution, Caltech. These two histories intertwine in multiple ways, in the form of big personalities, grand ambitions, and feats of technical bravado. But innumerable smaller, less-visible parts of Caltech and Southern California history also play vital roles in the shaping of this region and our home institution. To trace these stories, large and small, we will be turning to the Caltech Archives and the digital collections of The Huntington Library. You will be learning how to research and communicate the history of archival objects, culminating in a final “group exhibition” of your curated pieces.</p>
<!--more-->


<h3>Schedule of Class Topics and Readings</h3>

<ul>
	<li>
		<h4>January 8: Caltech and Its Archives</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Mike Davis, <cite>City of Quartz: Excavating the Future in Los Angeles</cite> (Verso, 1990), 54–62.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>January 15: Thinking Critically About Infrastructure</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Langdon Winner, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20024652">Do Artifacts Have Politics?</a>” <cite>Daedelus</cite> 190 (1980): 121–136.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>January 22: Electrifying America</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>David E. Nye, <cite>Electrifying America: Social Meanings of a New Technology, 1880–1940</cite> (MIT Press, 1992), ix–xi, 85–137.</li>
			<li>Explore the <a href="https://hdl.huntington.org/digital/collection/p16003coll2/search/order/date/ad/asc">Southern California Edison Photographs and Negatives</a> via the Huntington Digital Library.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>January 29: Big Creek and the High Voltage Research Laboratory</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Donald C. Jackson, <cite>Building the Ultimate Dam: John S. Eastman and the Control of Water in the West</cite> (University Press of Kansas, 1995), 59–83.</li>
			<li>Peter Sachs Collopy, “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpmJstUFd2Y">Iterating Infrastructure from High Volts to X-Rays to Nuclear Physics: Early Caltech Science in the Archives</a>,” Caltech Physics Colloquium, January 13, 2022.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 5: Gordon Kaufmann at Caltech</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/3639569">Designing for the Genders: Curricula and Architecture at Scripps College and the California Institute of Technology</a>,” <cite>Pacific Historical Review</cite> 54 (1985): 439–461.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 12: Hoover Dam and the Technological Sublime</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>David E. Nye, <cite>American Technological Sublime</cite> (MIT Press, 1994), 133–142.</li>
			<li>Donald Worster, <cite>Under Western Skies: Nature and History in the American West</cite> (Oxford University Press, 1992), 64–78.</li>
			<li>Joan Didion, “At the Dam,” originally published as “<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qVAEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA20">A Piece of Work for Now and Doomsday</a>,” <cite>Life</cite>, March 13, 1970, 20B.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 19: Electric Los Angeles</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Daniel L. Wuebben, <cite>Power Lined: Electricity, Landscape, and the American Mind</cite> (University of Nebraska Press, 2019), 87–129.</li>
			<li>Visit from Prof. Brian Jacobson.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 26</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>No class: independent Archives visits</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>March 4: <cite>Chinatown</cite> screening</h4>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>March 5: River Futures</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Vittoria di Palma and Alexander Robinson, “<a href="https://placesjournal.org/article/willful-waters-los-angeles-river/">Willful Waters</a>,” <cite>Places</cite>, May 2018.</li>
			<li>Visit from Dr. Nick Earhart.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="teaching" /><category term="science" /><category term="physics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="technology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="technopolitics" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="politics" /><category term="California" /><category term="archives" /><category term="visual culture" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[This term we will be exploring the meteoric rise of modern Los Angeles through two lenses: the history of its energy infrastructure and of our own institution, Caltech. These two histories intertwine in multiple ways, in the form of big personalities, grand ambitions, and feats of technical bravado. But innumerable smaller, less-visible parts of Caltech and Southern California history also play vital roles in the shaping of this region and our home institution. To trace these stories, large and small, we will be turning to the Caltech Archives and the digital collections of The Huntington Library. You will be learning how to research and communicate the history of archival objects, culminating in a final “group exhibition” of your curated pieces.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Beckmans at Caltech, 1923–1939</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2025/beckmans/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Beckmans at Caltech, 1923–1939" /><published>2025-06-10T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-10T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2025/beckmans</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2025/beckmans/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

From 1923 to 1939, Arnold Beckman was first a graduate student and then a professor at Caltech. Peter Sachs Collopy, PhD discusses Arnold and Mabel Beckman’s relationships with Caltech and how Caltech changed during this period.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="electronics" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[From 1923 to 1939, Arnold Beckman was first a graduate student and then a professor at Caltech. Peter Sachs Collopy, PhD discusses Arnold and Mabel Beckman’s relationships with Caltech and how Caltech changed during this period.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Art and Science at Caltech: Four Histories</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2024/art-and-science/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Art and Science at Caltech: Four Histories" /><published>2024-12-14T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2024-12-14T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2024/art-and-science</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2024/art-and-science/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

The *Crossing Over* exhibition, which unfolds across three independent spaces on the Caltech campus, draws on the research of 12 scholars in the visual culture of Caltech science. Their collective work is captured in the exhibit and a companion exhibition catalog that weave together the history of science with historical and contemporary art.

In a discussion, moderated by Caltech archivist Peter Sachs Collopy, four of the contributing scholars discuss the many forms of collaboration between art and science: from drawings of molecules to the architecture of the Caltech campus itself, and in the context of films, from a Frank Capra television special on subatomic particles to how outer space is illustrated by scientists and engineers at JPL and producers in Hollywood.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="art" /><category term="astronomy" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="media" /><category term="physics" /><category term="science" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The Crossing Over exhibition, which unfolds across three independent spaces on the Caltech campus, draws on the research of 12 scholars in the visual culture of Caltech science. Their collective work is captured in the exhibit and a companion exhibition catalog that weave together the history of science with historical and contemporary art. In a discussion, moderated by Caltech archivist Peter Sachs Collopy, four of the contributing scholars discuss the many forms of collaboration between art and science: from drawings of molecules to the architecture of the Caltech campus itself, and in the context of films, from a Frank Capra television special on subatomic particles to how outer space is illustrated by scientists and engineers at JPL and producers in Hollywood.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/crossing-over/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020" /><published>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2024/crossing-over</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/crossing-over/"><![CDATA[Science is as much a visual practice as a textual or quantitative one. For centuries, scientists have used microscopes, telescopes, painting, illustration, printing, and photography to perceive nature and communicate what they see in it, often in collaboration with artists. In the twentieth century, scientists also came to view creativity as an essential resource and looked to art to foster it.

*Crossing Over* is an interdisciplinary publication that looks at one prominent university—the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) in Pasadena—as a site for scientific and artistic image production. Uncovering the rich pictorial record embedded in its Archives and Special Collections, a team of visual culture scholars examines Caltech through a series of tightly focused case studies. How, the authors ask, have science and engineering institutions like Caltech used scientific representation, art, and architecture to construct themselves and produce discovery and invention? This book reveals new facets of life and work at Caltech that will be illuminating even to those familiar with the school, showcasing views that informed—and were informed by—the vibrant visual culture of Southern California.

This volume was published to accompany [an exhibition](/exhibits/2024/crossing-over) on view at the California Institute of Technology from September 27 to December 15, 2024. It was a [finalist](https://www.collegeart.org/news/2025/11/13/announcing-the-2026-morey-book-award-and-barr-awards-shortlists/) for the College Art Association’s 2026 Alfred H. Barr Jr. Award for Smaller Museums, Libraries, Collections, and Exhibitions.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="art" /><category term="astronomy" /><category term="biology" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="computing" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="geology" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="media" /><category term="physics" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="war" /><category term="California" /><category term="education" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Science is as much a visual practice as a textual or quantitative one. For centuries, scientists have used microscopes, telescopes, painting, illustration, printing, and photography to perceive nature and communicate what they see in it, often in collaboration with artists. In the twentieth century, scientists also came to view creativity as an essential resource and looked to art to foster it. Crossing Over is an interdisciplinary publication that looks at one prominent university—the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) in Pasadena—as a site for scientific and artistic image production. Uncovering the rich pictorial record embedded in its Archives and Special Collections, a team of visual culture scholars examines Caltech through a series of tightly focused case studies. How, the authors ask, have science and engineering institutions like Caltech used scientific representation, art, and architecture to construct themselves and produce discovery and invention? This book reveals new facets of life and work at Caltech that will be illuminating even to those familiar with the school, showcasing views that informed—and were informed by—the vibrant visual culture of Southern California. This volume was published to accompany an exhibition on view at the California Institute of Technology from September 27 to December 15, 2024. It was a finalist for the College Art Association’s 2026 Alfred H. Barr Jr. Award for Smaller Museums, Libraries, Collections, and Exhibitions.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Passing in the Hallway: Art and Technology at Caltech, 1968–1972</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/passing-in-the-hallway/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Passing in the Hallway: Art and Technology at Caltech, 1968–1972" /><published>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2024/passing-in-the-hallway</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/passing-in-the-hallway/"><![CDATA[In 1969, Caltech converted seven rooms in its defunct Earhart Plant Research Laboratory into an art studio, hosting artists who worked in the media of plastics and computer animation. In the long 1960s, artists and scientists embraced each others’ professional practices, and universities created new centers for art and technology. Artists and scientists did not come to these new programs with the same motivations and expectations. Many artists were interested in synthesizing art with science and engineering, but most scientists and engineers who engaged in art were seeking a break from their technical work rather than a different mode of it, making genuine collaboration the exception rather than the rule.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="art" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="computing" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="media" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="California" /><category term="education" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In 1969, Caltech converted seven rooms in its defunct Earhart Plant Research Laboratory into an art studio, hosting artists who worked in the media of plastics and computer animation. In the long 1960s, artists and scientists embraced each others’ professional practices, and universities created new centers for art and technology. Artists and scientists did not come to these new programs with the same motivations and expectations. Many artists were interested in synthesizing art with science and engineering, but most scientists and engineers who engaged in art were seeking a break from their technical work rather than a different mode of it, making genuine collaboration the exception rather than the rule.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020</title><link href="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2024/crossing-over/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020" /><published>2024-09-27T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2024-09-27T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/exhibits/2024/crossing-over</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2024/crossing-over/"><![CDATA[*Crossing Over* was an expansive public exhibition that wove together the history of science with historical and contemporary art. How, it asked, have scientists and engineers used images and collaborated with artists to discover, invent, and communicate? How have artists been inspired by Caltech science? Spread across six sites at Caltech, the exhibition featured displays of over 200 objects, most drawn from the Caltech Archives and Special Collections, including rare books, paintings, drawings, photographs, scientific instruments, molecular models, and video.

September 27 – December 15, 2024

<a href="https://www.archpaper.com/2025/12/honorable-mentions-2025-best-of-design-awards/">Honorable mention</a> for <cite>The Architect’s Newspaper</cite>’s 2025 Best of Design Award for Exhibition Design and <a href="https://winners.architizer.com/2026/Sustainability/built-3/sustainable-interior-project-3/">finalist</a> for the 2026 Architizer A+ Award for a Sustainable Interior Project, both for design by Tim Durfee Studio.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="exhibits" /><category term="art" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="astronomy" /><category term="biology" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="geology" /><category term="physics" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="technology" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Crossing Over was an expansive public exhibition that wove together the history of science with historical and contemporary art. How, it asked, have scientists and engineers used images and collaborated with artists to discover, invent, and communicate? How have artists been inspired by Caltech science? Spread across six sites at Caltech, the exhibition featured displays of over 200 objects, most drawn from the Caltech Archives and Special Collections, including rare books, paintings, drawings, photographs, scientific instruments, molecular models, and video. September 27 – December 15, 2024 Honorable mention for The Architect’s Newspaper’s 2025 Best of Design Award for Exhibition Design and finalist for the 2026 Architizer A+ Award for a Sustainable Interior Project, both for design by Tim Durfee Studio.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Art and Science Collide at Southern California’s Third Annual PST ART Series</title><link href="https://collopy.net/discussions/2024/airtalk/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Art and Science Collide at Southern California’s Third Annual PST ART Series" /><published>2024-09-12T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2024-09-12T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/discussions/2024/airtalk</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/discussions/2024/airtalk/"><![CDATA[Touted as the “largest cultural event in the United States” by organizers, the PST ART series (formerly known as Pacific Standard Time), returns for its third year in Southern California. This year’s theme *Art & Science Collide* celebrates the interrelationship of art and science with over 800 artists and more than 70 cultural institutions participating across Southern California. The series, which will take place from September 15, 2024 - February 16, 2025, looks to bring science to the public with conversations touching on the crossroads of climate change and social justice, the future of Indigenous knowledge and technology, and exploring the science behind the colors in some of your favorite films.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="discussions" /><category term="art" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="visual culture" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Touted as the “largest cultural event in the United States” by organizers, the PST ART series (formerly known as Pacific Standard Time), returns for its third year in Southern California. This year’s theme Art &amp; Science Collide celebrates the interrelationship of art and science with over 800 artists and more than 70 cultural institutions participating across Southern California. The series, which will take place from September 15, 2024 - February 16, 2025, looks to bring science to the public with conversations touching on the crossroads of climate change and social justice, the future of Indigenous knowledge and technology, and exploring the science behind the colors in some of your favorite films.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">“Video Is as Powerful as LSD”: Electronics and Psychedelics as Technologies of Consciousness</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2023/video-is-as-powerful-as-lsd/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="“Video Is as Powerful as LSD”: Electronics and Psychedelics as Technologies of Consciousness" /><published>2023-11-21T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2023-11-21T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2023/video-is-as-powerful-as-lsd</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2023/video-is-as-powerful-as-lsd/"><![CDATA[<p>In the middle of the twentieth century, the invention and availability of new psychedelic drugs, and the growing cultural discourse around them, coincided with those of television, videotape, and computing. The technologies of psychedelics and electronics grew up together, and those using or thinking about one often implicated the other. When Sony and other Japanese manufacturers developed new portable videotape recorders in the late 1960s, for example, new communities of artists and tinkerers emerged around them, first in the US and Canada and then in Europe, Asia, North Africa, and Latin America. For the first time, declared these enthusiasts, many people could make their own television, breaking the broadcast oligopoly. In describing the psychological and sociological implications of this new technology, many compared it to psychedelic drugs.<p>

<p class="translation">A mediados del siglo XX, la invención y disponibilidad de nuevas drogas psicodélicas, y el creciente discurso cultural en torno a ellas, coincidieron con los de la televisión, las cintas de vídeo y la informática. Las tecnologías psicodélicas y la electrónica crecieron juntas, y quienes usaban o pensaban en una a menudo implicaban a la otra. Cuando Sony y otros fabricantes japoneses desarrollaron nuevos magnetoscopios portátiles a finales de los años sesenta, por ejemplo, surgieron nuevas comunidades de artistas a su alrededor, primero en Estados Unidos y Canadá, y después en Europa, Asia, el norte de África y América Latina. Por primera vez, declararon estos entusiastas, mucha gente podía hacer su propia televisión, rompiendo el oligopolio de la radiodifusión. Al describir las implicaciones psicológicas y sociológicas de esta nueva tecnología, muchos la compararon con las drogas psicodélicas.</p>]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="technology" /><category term="media" /><category term="video" /><category term="synthesizers" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="science" /><category term="biology" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="drugs" /><category term="art" /><category term="psychiatry" /><category term="California" /><category term="New York" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the middle of the twentieth century, the invention and availability of new psychedelic drugs, and the growing cultural discourse around them, coincided with those of television, videotape, and computing. The technologies of psychedelics and electronics grew up together, and those using or thinking about one often implicated the other. When Sony and other Japanese manufacturers developed new portable videotape recorders in the late 1960s, for example, new communities of artists and tinkerers emerged around them, first in the US and Canada and then in Europe, Asia, North Africa, and Latin America. For the first time, declared these enthusiasts, many people could make their own television, breaking the broadcast oligopoly. In describing the psychological and sociological implications of this new technology, many compared it to psychedelic drugs. A mediados del siglo XX, la invención y disponibilidad de nuevas drogas psicodélicas, y el creciente discurso cultural en torno a ellas, coincidieron con los de la televisión, las cintas de vídeo y la informática. Las tecnologías psicodélicas y la electrónica crecieron juntas, y quienes usaban o pensaban en una a menudo implicaban a la otra. Cuando Sony y otros fabricantes japoneses desarrollaron nuevos magnetoscopios portátiles a finales de los años sesenta, por ejemplo, surgieron nuevas comunidades de artistas a su alrededor, primero en Estados Unidos y Canadá, y después en Europa, Asia, el norte de África y América Latina. Por primera vez, declararon estos entusiastas, mucha gente podía hacer su propia televisión, rompiendo el oligopolio de la radiodifusión. Al describir las implicaciones psicológicas y sociológicas de esta nueva tecnología, muchos la compararon con las drogas psicodélicas.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Curating Art and Science</title><link href="https://collopy.net/teaching/2022/curating/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Curating Art and Science" /><published>2022-08-29T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2022-08-29T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/teaching/2022/curating</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/teaching/2022/curating/"><![CDATA[<p>This is a syllabus for Curating Art and Science, a course offered in museum studies, history, and cultural studies in fall 2022 at Claremont Graduate University. This course will explore the history of interactions between art, science, and technology, and how to curate exhibitions on the subject. It is partly based on the instructors’ work, as part of the Getty Foundation’s Pacific Standard Time 2024 program on art, science, and LA, to develop a multi-sited, campus-wide exhibition at Caltech on Caltech’s own uses of visual culture over the last century to produce science, to communicate it, and to foster scientific identity and community. Our readings will emphasize the 20th century US, and sometimes specifically Caltech’s own history, but student projects may extend beyond this geographical and chronological context.</p>
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<p>The course will be divided into three modules:</p>

<ol>
	<li><b>Art and Science:</b> During the first part of the semester, we will think about the relationships between art, science, technology, and visual culture more generally, studying foundational texts on scientific illustration, the influence of science on modern and contemporary art, technological art, and the architecture of scientific institutions.</li>
	<li><b>Curating:</b> The second part of the semester takes an in-depth look at the history of exhibitions, both in the science and visual arts realms, and explores the nature and roles of archives and collections as sources for display. We will pay particular attention to contemporary curatorial theory and practice as it has evolved from the 1960s to the present. There will be site visits to the Benton Museum at Pomona College, where we will see an installation by California Light and Space artist Helen Pashgian; the Huntington Library, where we view a site-specific installation by artist Lita Albuquerque and meet with senior curators working on art and science exhibitions; and the Caltech Archives and Special Collections, where we will explore the records kept by scientific institutions. Other guests will join the conversation to deepen our understanding of discourse and standards in the field.</li>
	<li><b>Disciplinary Histories and Student Presentations:</b> During the third part of the semester, we will focus on the histories of visual culture in specific scientific disciplines, as well as art and architecture, often reading case studies from Caltech’s own history. Students will curate, design, and present possible exhibition displays on these topics drawing on the Caltech Archives and other local collections.</li>
</ol>

<p>Throughout the semester, students will investigate a range of visual practices at Caltech and other scientific institutions according to the specific scientific, artistic, and institutional functions they serve. What kinds of information do scientific images convey, and how do we best look at them in their varying contexts? How do we account for the choices scientists and artists make when they represent their work, and what cultural biases or preferences might their images contain? How do scientific images relate to other images in art, technology, and popular culture?</p>

<p>This course does not require any specific background preparation. For those unfamiliar with the academic study of visual culture, additional reading in James Elkins and Erna Fiorentini, <cite>Visual Worlds: Looking, Images, Visual Disciplines</cite> (Oxford University Press, 2020) may be useful for context.</p>

<h3>Student Learning Outcomes</h3>

<p>Upon successful completion of this course, students will be able to:</p>

<ol>
	<li>Understand the complex interactions between art, science, technology, and visual culture in the 20th and early 21st centuries, especially as they relate to the California Institute of Technology, other American science institutions, and Southern California.</li>
	<li>Navigate art and science discourses in the humanities.</li>
	<li>Reflect on and engage critically with trends and issues in contemporary curatorial practice.</li>
	<li>Collaborate with project partners.</li>
	<li>Strengthen research, writing, and presentation skills, communicating in a variety of formats and for diverse audiences.</li>
	<li>Create compelling exhibitions with an understanding of different spaces and their design, as well as the selection, care, and management of display objects.</li>
	<li>Know artists, scholars, curators, and design professionals working in the field.</li>
</ol>

<h3>Assignments</h3>

<ol>
	<li><b>Exhibition review</b> (500 words) of a local exhibition of your choice which engages with both art and science. Specific guidelines for this review will be posted online and discussed in class. Reviews are due electronically before class on October 24, 2022.</li>
	<li><b>Exhibition proposal</b> of a concept, items, didactic text, and layout for a small display on an art/science theme either chosen from a list provided by the course instructors or proposed by the student. Elements of the proposal will include a short introductory text (500 words), a checklist of 15–30 display items, a sample wall text (250 words) and didactic exhibition label (100 words), and space selection and layout/fabrication ideas. You may work independently or collaborate with one or more partners. In addition to handing in proposal materials, each student will present on their proposal during the third portion of the semester. Your presentation will be assessed based on the comprehensiveness and originality of your ideas; their viability in a real-life gallery, museum, or library setting; and your creative communication skills. Specific guidelines for a successful exhibition proposal will be posted online and discussed in class. Proposals are due on your assigned presentation day, between November 7 and December 12.</li>
	<li><b>Curatorial essay</b> (15–20 pages, no more than 5000 words) providing historical, cultural, aesthetic, or other scholarly analysis of your proposal exhibition, or, with permission of the instructors, of another topic. Specific guidelines for the creation of a curatorial essay will be posted online and discussed in class. Curatorial essays are due electronically on December 16.</li>
</ol>

<p>Your grade for the course will be based 20% on the exhibition review, 30% each on the exhibition proposal and curatorial essay, and 20% on your engaged and insightful participation in class.</p>

<p>We’ll discuss readings during every class, so please read everything assigned before the class meeting it’s listed under. Please submit assignments by email to both instructors.</p>

<h3>Schedule of Class Topics and Readings</h3>

<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>August 29: Introduction</h5>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4>Art and Science</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>September 12: Scientific Images</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>James Elkins, <cite><a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.7591/j.ctv3s8n8p">The Domain of Images</a></cite> (Cornell University Press, 1999), 3–51.</li>
			<li>Horst Bredekamp, Vera Dünkel, and Birgit Schneider, eds., <cite>The Technical Image: A History of Styles in Scientific Imagery</cite> (University of Chicago Press, 2015), 1–45.</li>
			<li>Bruno Latour, “<a href="http://www.bruno-latour.fr/sites/default/files/21-DRAWING-THINGS-TOGETHER-GB.pdf">Visualization and Cognition: Drawing Things Together</a>,” <cite>Knowledge and Society</cite> 6 (1986): 1–40.</li>
			<li>Lorraine Daston and Peter Galison, <cite><a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctv1c9hq4d">Objectivity</a></cite> (Zone, 2007), 9–53.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>September 19: Science in Art</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>James Elkins and Erna Fiorentini, <cite>Visual Worlds: Looking, Images, Visual Disciplines</cite> (Oxford University Press, 2020), 339–362.</li>
			<li>Chiara Ambrosio, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/03080188.2016.1223586">Cubism and the Fourth Dimension</a>,” <cite>Interdisciplinary Science Reviews</cite> 41 (2016): 202–221.</li>
			<li>Linda Dalrymple Henderson, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/776982">X Rays and the Quest for Invisible Reality in the Art of Kupka, Duchamp, and the Cubists</a>,” <cite>Art Journal</cite> 47 (1988): 323–340.</li>
			<li>Vanja V. Malloy, “From Macrocosm to Microcosm: Examining the Role of Modern Science in American Art,” in <cite>Dimensionism: Modern Art in the Age of Einstein</cite>, ed. Vanja V. Malloy (Mead Art Museum, Amherst College and MIT Press, 2018), 71–97.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>September 26: The Architecture of Science</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Sophie Forgan, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/0039-3681(89)90017-4">The Architecture of Science and the Idea of a University</a>,” <cite>Studies in History and Philosophy of Science</cite> 20 (1989): 405–434.</li>
			<li>Robert E. Kohler, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/007327530204000405">Labscapes: Naturalizing the Lab</a>,” <cite>History of Science</cite> 40 (2002): 473–501.</li>
			<li>Thomas F. Gieryn, “Two Faces on Science: Building Identities for Molecular Biology and Biotechnology,” in <cite><a href="https://hdl.handle.net/2027/heb08330.0001.001">The Architecture of Science</a></cite>, ed. Peter Galison and Emily Thompson (MIT Press, 1999), 423–455.</li>
			<li>Thomas F. Gieryn, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/595773">Laboratory Design for Post-Fordist Science</a>,” <cite>Isis</cite> 99 (2008): 796–802.</li>
			<li>Peter Galison and Caroline A. Jones, “Factory, Laboratory, Studio: Dispersing Sites of Production,” in Galison and Thompson, <cite><a href="https://hdl.handle.net/2027/heb08330.0001.001">Architecture of Science</a></cite>, 497–540.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>October 3: Art and Technology</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Fred Turner, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/1470412907087201">Romantic Automatism: Art, Technology, and Collaborative Labor in Cold War America</a>,” <cite>Journal of Visual Culture</cite> 7 (2008): 5–26.</li>
			<li>Anne Collins Goodyear, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20206559">From Technophilia to Technophobia: The Impact of the Vietnam War on the Reception of ‘Art and Technology,’</a>” <cite>Leonardo</cite> 41, no. 2 (2008): 169–173.</li>
			<li>Matthew Wisnioski, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/con.2013.0006">Why MIT Institutionalized the Avant-Garde: Negotiating Aesthetic Virtue in the Postwar Defense Institute</a>,” <cite>Configurations</cite> 21 (2013): 85–116.</li>
			<li>W. Patrick McCray, “Fallout and Spinoff: Commercializing the Art-Technology Nexus,” in <cite>Hybrid Practices: Art in Collaboration with Science and Technology in the Long 1960s</cite>, ed. David Cateforis, Steven Duval, and Shepherd Steiner (University of California Press, 2019), 61–77.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4>Curating</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>October 10: Showing Is Telling: Contemporary Curatorial Practice</h5>
		<ul>
			<li><i>Guest: <a href="https://www.timdurfee.com/">Tim Durfee</a>, Principal of Tim Durfee Studio and Professor of Media Design Practices, Art Center College of Design</i></li>
			<li>Robert Storr, “Show and Tell,” in <cite>What Makes a Great Exhibition?</cite> ed. Paula Marincola (Reaktion, 2006), 14–31.</li>
			<li>Kate Fowle, “Who Cares? Understanding the Role of the Curator Today,” in <cite>Cautionary Tales: Critical Curating</cite>, ed. Steven Rand and Heather Kouris (apexart, 2007).</li>
			<li>Hans Ulrich Obrist, <cite>Ways of Curating</cite> (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2014), 14–16, 22–35.</li>
			<li>Jens Hofmann and Maria Lind, “<a href="https://www.moussemagazine.it/magazine/jens-hoffmann-maria-lind-2011/">To Show or Not to Show</a>,” <cite>Mousse Magazine</cite>, no. 31 (November 2011).</li>
			<li>Adrian George, <cite>The Curator’s Handbook: Museums, Commercial Galleries, Independent Spaces</cite> (Thames and Hudson, 2015), 152–206.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>October 17: Archives and Collections</h5>
		<ul>
			<li><i>Guest: <a href="http://www.elinoharaslavick.com/">elin o’Hara slavick</a>, artist and curator</i></li>
			<li>Elizabeth Yale, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/43956377">The History of Archives: The State of the Discipline</a>,” <cite>Book History</cite> 18 (2015): 332–359.</li>
			<li>Lorraine Daston, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/667826">The Sciences of the Archive</a>,” <cite>Osiris</cite> 27 (2012): 156–187.</li>
			<li>Allan Sekula, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/778312">The Body and the Archive</a>,” <cite>October</cite>, no. 39 (Winter 1986): 3–64.</li>
			<li>Jennifer Tucker, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/501104">The Historian, the Picture, and the Archive</a>,” <cite>Isis</cite> 97 (2006): 111–120.</li>
			<li>George, <cite>Curator’s Handbook, 30–48 and 56–87.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>October 24: Exhibiting Art, Exhibiting Science</h5>
		<ul>
			<li><i>Guest: Dan Lewis, Dibner Senior Curator of the History of Science and Technology, Huntington Library</i></li>
			<li>Sharon Macdonald, “Exhibitions of Power and Powers of Exhibitions: An Introduction to the Politics of Display,” in <cite>The Politics of Display: Museums, Science, and Culture</cite>, ed. Sharon Macdonald (Routledge, 1998), 1–24.</li>
			<li>Ivan Karp and Steven D. Lavine, eds., <cite>Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics of Museum Display</cite> (Smithsonian Institution Press, 1991), 1–56.</li>
			<li>Tony Bennet, “The Exhibitionary Complex,” in <cite>Thinking About Exhibitions</cite>, ed. Reesa Greenberg, Bruce W. Fergusson, and Sandy Nairne (Routledge, 1996), 81–112.</li>
			<li>Terry Smith, <cite>Thinking Contemporary Curating</cite> (Independent Curators International, 2012), 57–100.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>October 31: From White Cube to Black Box: Contemporary Curatorial Thought</h5>
		<ul>
			<li><i>Guest: Rebecca McGrew, Senior Curator, Benton Museum of Art, Pomona College</i></li>
			<li>Brian O’Doherty, “<a href="https://www.artforum.com/print/197603/inside-the-white-cube-notes-on-the-gallery-space-part-i-38508">Inside the White Cube: Notes on the Gallery Space, Part I</a>,” <cite>Artforum</cite>, March 1976.</li>
			<li>Okwui Enwezor, “The Black Box,” in <cite>Documenta 11_Platform 5: Exhibition, Catalogue</cite> (Hatje Cantz, 2002).</li>
			<li>Carolee Thea, “Okwui Enwezor,” in <cite>On Curating: Interviews with Ten International Curators</cite> (Distributed Art Publishers, 2009), 43–53.</li>
			<li>Paul O’Neill, <cite>The Culture of Curating and the Curating of Culture(s)</cite> (MIT Press, 2016), 9–49.</li>
			<li>Smith, <cite>Thinking Contemporary Curating</cite>, 178–246.</li>
			<li>Irit Rogoff, “<a href="https://xenopraxis.net/readings/rogoff_smuggling.pdf">‘Smuggling’: An Embodied Criticality</a>,” August 2006.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4>Disciplinary Histories and Student Presentations</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>November 7: Astronomy and Planetary Science</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Alex Soojung-Kim Pang, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/4027716">‘Stars Should Henceforth Register Themselves’: Astrophotography at the Early Lick Observatory</a>,” <cite>British Journal for the History of Science</cite> 30 (1997): 177–205.</li>
			<li>Omar W. Nasim, “<a href="https://www.mprl-series.mpg.de/studies/12/10/index.html">Handling the Heavens: Things and the Photo-Objects of Astronomy</a>,” in <cite>Photo-Objects: On the Materiality of Photographs and Photo Archives in the Humanities and Sciences</cite>, ed. Julia Bärnighausen, Costanza Caraffa, Stefanie Klamm, Franka Schneider, and Petra Wodtke (Max-Planck-Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaften, 2019), 161–175.</li>
			<li>Elizabeth A. Kessler, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/tech.2021.0198">Technology’s Palette: Voyager’s Eyes and the Hyperchromatic Enhancement of Jupiter and Saturn</a>,” <cite>Technology and Culture</cite> 62 (2021): 1087–1118.</li>
			<li>Janet Vertesi, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.7551/mitpress/9780262525381.003.0002"><i>Drawing As</i>: Distinctions and Disambiguation in Digital Images of Mars</a>,” in <cite>Representation in Scientific Practice Revisited</cite>, ed. Catelijne Coopmans, Janet Vertesi, Michael Lynch, and Steve Woolgar (MIT Press, 2014), 15–36.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>November 14: Biology</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Nick Hopwood, “<a href="https://publicdomainreview.org/essay/copying-pictures-evidencing-evolution">Copying Pictures, Evidencing Evolution</a>,” <cite>Public Domain Review</cite>, May 18, 2016.</li>
			<li>Maura C. Flannery, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1576571">Images of the Cell in Twentieth-Century Art and Science</a>,” <cite>Leonardo</cite> 31 (1998): 195–204.</li>
			<li>Christopher Kelty and Hannah Landecker, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1162/1526381042464536">A Theory of Animation: Cells, L-Systems, and Film</a>,” <cite>Grey Room</cite>, no. 17 (2004): 31–63.</li>
			<li>Soraya de Chadarevian, “Models and the Making of Molecular Biology,” in <cite>Models: The Third Dimension of Science</cite>, ed. Soraya de Chadarevian and Nick Hopwood (Stanford University Press, 2004), 339–368.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>November 21: Chemistry</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Christoph Meinel, “Molecules and Croquet Balls,” in de Chadarevian and Hopwood, <cite>Models</cite>, 242–275.</li>
			<li>Alberto Cambrosio, Daniel Jacobi, and Peter Keating, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/rep.2005.89.1.94">Arguing with Images: Pauling’s Theory of Antibody Formation</a>,” <cite>Representations</cite> 89, (2005): 94–130.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>November 28: Art and Architecture</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Stefanos Polyzoides, “<a href="https://www.classicist.org/pdf/classicist15/#page=10">Bertram Goodhue and the Architecture of Caltech, 1915 to 1939</a>,” <cite>Classicist</cite>, no. 15 (2018): 8–19.</li>
			<li>Zabet Patterson, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1162/grey.2009.1.36.36">From the Gun Controller to the Mandala: The Cybernetic Cinema of John and James Whitney</a>,” <cite>Grey Room</cite>, no. 36 (2009): 36–57.</li>
			<li>Stephen Nowlin, “<a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/670950">@Caltech: Art, Science and Technology, 1969–1971</a>,” <cite>Leonardo</cite> 50 (2017): 443–447.</li>
			<li>Lisa Lynch, “‘Out-liers,’ ‘Insiders,’ and Practical Harvest: Art as Technology Transfer in a Research Environment,” <cite>Research in Science and Technology Studies</cite> 13 (2002): 239–265.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>December 5: Physics</h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Peter Galison and Alexi Assmus, “Artificial Clouds, Real Particles,” in <cite>The Uses of Experiment: Studies in the Natural Sciences</cite>, ed. David Gooding, Trevor Pinch, and Simon Schaffer (Cambridge University Press, 1989), 225–274.</li>
			<li>David Kaiser, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/2902893">Stick Figure Realism: Conventions, Reification, and the Persistence of Feynman Diagrams, 1948–1964</a>,” <cite>Representations</cite> 70 (2000): 49–86.</li>
			<li>James Elkins, <cite>Six Stories from the End of Representation: Images in Painting, Photography, Astronomy, Microscopy, Particle Physics, and Quantum Mechanics, 1980–2000</cite> (Stanford University Press, 2008), 156–223.</li>
			<li>Colleen O’Reilly, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/44011808">Pedagogical Interventions: The Physics Photographs of Berenice Abbott</a>,” <cite>RACAR: revue d'art canadienne / Canadian Art Review</cite> 41, no. 2 (2016): 77–90.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>December 12: Conclusion</h5>
	</li>
</ul>]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="teaching" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="art" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="media" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="biology" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="physics" /><category term="astronomy" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[This is a syllabus for Curating Art and Science, a course offered in museum studies, history, and cultural studies in fall 2022 at Claremont Graduate University. This course will explore the history of interactions between art, science, and technology, and how to curate exhibitions on the subject. It is partly based on the instructors’ work, as part of the Getty Foundation’s Pacific Standard Time 2024 program on art, science, and LA, to develop a multi-sited, campus-wide exhibition at Caltech on Caltech’s own uses of visual culture over the last century to produce science, to communicate it, and to foster scientific identity and community. Our readings will emphasize the 20th century US, and sometimes specifically Caltech’s own history, but student projects may extend beyond this geographical and chronological context.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Robert Millikan, Eugenics, and Justice in the Laboratory and the Archives</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/robert-millikan/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Robert Millikan, Eugenics, and Justice in the Laboratory and the Archives" /><published>2022-02-07T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2022-02-07T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/robert-millikan</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/robert-millikan/"><![CDATA[I presented two versions of this essay in 2022, one in a session of the American Association for the Advancement of Science Annual Meeting and the other for a video produced by the Consortium of History of Science, Technology and Medicine. The video below is of the CHSTM version, while the text is of the longer and more detailed AAAS version.

{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

In November, Caltech renamed a building and other assets named after one of its most prominent faculty, American physicist Robert A. Millikan. Over the last year and a half, student and alumni advocacy at Caltech for removing names from the campus landscape has prompted new historical interest in Millikan and in Caltech’s relationship through him and others to the Human Betterment Foundation, which advocated for involuntary eugenic sterilization.[^1] This paper is one manifestation of that renewed interest. In the context of a session otherwise devoted to Lise Meitner and the roles of discrimination against women in science, I'm going to focus on how Millikan, as a powerful scientist and administrator, himself addressed questions of sex and gender in physics, coeducation, and eugenics.

In the 1920s and 1930s, Robert A. Millikan was the most prominent scientist born in the United States. He had received the Nobel Prize in 1923 for his determination of the charge of an electron and for research on the photoelectric effect, an effort to disprove Albert Einstein’s corpuscular theory of the light which instead produced evidence supporting it. He was leading the California Institute of Technology to a central position in physics and in American science. And his research on cosmic rays—a term he coined—had long made headlines, as had his blending of science and religion in describing them as "birth cries" of atoms continually being created.[^2]

When Duke University hired the German refugee physicist Hertha Sponer in 1936, Millikan wrote to department chair Charles W. Edwards questioning the decision. Edwards shared a paragraph with the university's president, William Preston Few, who wrote to Millikan to ask for further advice.[^3] Millikan did not elaborate further on his concerns about Sponer, but rather argued generally against hiring women in American university physics departments. “At least 95% of the ablest minds that are now going into physics are men,” he wrote, and they needed men for mentors. There were, Millikan conceded, exceptional women physicists, and indeed, he wrote, “Fraulein Meitner of Berlin and Madam Curie of Paris are in the front rank of the world's recognized physicists.” But since “no other living women” had achieved as much as Meitner, he suggested, no other was qualified for a professorship.[^4] As Margaret Rossiter writes, “rather than ‘opening the doors’… these two examples… justified continued exclusion, for, to Millikan at least,” their achievement now marked “the minimum acceptable level.”[^5] Ultimately, when Few replied that he generally agreed but that Duke's circumstances were exceptional because it operated a separate women's college as well as one for men rather than embracing coeducation, Millikan conceded the point.[^6]

Only a year later, in 1937, Millikan took the opposite side on an issue of women and higher education in an internationally broadcast speech on the centenary of admission of women to his alma mater, Oberlin College, and thus the introduction of coeducation to American colleges. In his lecture, Millikan argued that “intelligent men” at Oberlin admitted women because they saw that “the Mississippi Valley… needed an educated womanhood for its fullest development,” and that others expanded coeducation because “a new scientific world” similarly “needed education and brains among women as well as men.” It was the imperial expansion of America west and the intensification of its industry, in Millikan's account, which liberated its women’s minds. In turn, education and the operation of markets led to the “economic” and “physical emancipation” of women from poverty, dependence, and “hampering and unwholesome social custom” such as “unhygienic dress” and prohibitions on athletics. Progress did not come, argued Millikan, from “hatchets and brickbats and strikes” by militant feminists, or even from legislation mandating suffrage and the right to own property. “Fortunately,” he suggested, suffrage hadn’t actually had a political effect, because women’s voting patterns mirrored men’s; “if there were a sex vote,” he added, “women’s suffrage would be a curse.” Rather, progress in women’s rights came from the continuous expansion of science, technology, and capitalism.[^7]

Taken together, Millikan’s stances on women in higher education suggest that he celebrated inclusion and, as he put it, “liberation,” as long as these trends towards equality did not threaten men’s power and professorships. And while by 1937, “404 of the country’s 625 institutions of collegiate grade are coeducational,” as Millikan noted in a footnote, his own Caltech was not among them: it would first admit a woman graduate student in 1953, after Millikan left the presidency, and would not admit women as undergraduates until 1970.[^8]

While Caltech excluded women, it very much embraced the vision of American expansion in the west which Millikan described as Oberlin’s initial reason for educating them. In a 1924 fundraising document, Millikan described “Some Exceptional Opportunities in Southern California,” a location he argued was uniquely suited for science and industry. Lacking coal, Millikan predicted presciently, it would be a major site for the development of new forms of energy, including solar power. “On account of the climatic conditions existing in the southwestern region,” he wrote, “and the character of the race that inhabits it, the solution of that problem may be expected to come from California.”[^9]

That race was, Millikan wrote, “Nordic,” “Anglo-Saxon,” and “Arian,” ethnicities with which Millikan associated both himself and ideals of “progress,” “responsibility,” and “individual initiative.” Conversely, in his 1924 book *Science and Life*, Millikan associated Asia with “static civilizations” of irrational and suffering people.[^10] Decades later, in a 1946 letter to *Life* publisher Henry Luce regarding British rule in India, Millikan argued for the necessity of colonialism. Only “Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian countries, Holland and Switzerland,” he wrote, were capable of “constitutional, representative government,… but the rest of the world… must be handled by something that approaches dictatorship.”[^11] All could make progress towards democracy eventually, but it must be extremely gradual, over many generations; Britain, Millikan said in 1942, had the world’s most successful democracy because it had developed over 200 years “by this evolutionary rather than revolutionary process,” while revolutionary countries “are certainly now hundreds of years behind.”[^12] In a 1951 letter to his wife Greta, Millikan expressed similar concern about self-government by Mississippi’s Black majority, “an unthinkable disaster in view of the sort of people they now are.”[^13]

Despite his rhetoric of progress towards women’s liberation for the Oberlin centennial in 1937, Millikan’s authoritarianism influenced his approaches to sex and gender as well. Among the benefits of “physical emancipation” Millikan listed in 1937 was the demise of “the sex slavery that denied to women the control of when and how she was able to bear her young.”[^14] The following year, though, he became a trustee of an organization which, in the name of scientific progress and small government, advocated for denying both men and women reproductive autonomy. This was the Human Betterment Foundation.

In 1909, California had become the third state to pass a bill authorizing superintendents of asylums and prisons to sterilize patients and inmates without their consent. Over the decades to come, the state sterilized increasing numbers of people, totaling over 20,000 by the 1960s, a third of the national total. Legislators and administrators increasingly articulated their motivations for sterilization in terms of eugenics, selective breeding to improve the fitness of the human population.[^15]

Among eugenic sterilization’s enthusiastic supporters were Pasadena lawyer and rancher Ezra Gosney and biologist Paul Popenoe. In the late 1920s, the two men visited state institutions, obtained copies of their medical records, and began statistical analysis to measure and demonstrate the individual and social benefits of sterilization. They also incorporated the Human Betterment Foundation, recruited a board of trustees which shared members with Caltech’s, and began publishing and distributing books and pamphlets advocating for the expansion of “eugenic sterilization of the hereditary defective.”[^16] In the early 1930s, the Foundation mailed pamphlets advocating sterilization to Nazi administrators and influenced Germany’s 1933 eugenic sterilization law.[^17]

In their 1938 pamphlet *Human Sterilization Today*, the Foundation presented sterilization as a solution to the economic problem that “births among families habitually living on public charity are often 50% higher than births among self-supporting families.”[^18] In a draft of the pamphlet, they expressed an additional racial motivation; “native whites in California,” they wrote, “produce only 69% enough children to take the place of those who die.”[^19] Enacting this anxiety about the demise of the white race, the state of California disproportionately sterilized Mexican and Mexican-American people; state institutions also disproportionately sterilized women.[^20]

1938 was also the year in which Millikan joined the Foundation’s board of trustees.[^21] He thus lent the organization his scientific reputation and formally took responsibility for its work. While Millikan sometimes missed meetings of the Foundation, in letters to Gosney he expressed his enthusiastic support.[^22] “May I congratulate you and the Trustees of the Human Betterment Foundation,” he wrote in one, “on the generous gift that you are making to a great cause.”[^23]

In his insightful *Rise of Robert Millikan*, Robert Kargon writes that Millikan “saw himself as a progressive-conservative” and that his approach to research also embodied this duality, as he strived to contribute both to the new physics with its emphasis on theorizing the subatomic and to the distinctly American, pragmatic, measurement-oriented physics of his mentor A. A. Michelson. “Millikan’s choice of the measurement of *e* as a research program reflects his decision to serve two masters,” writes Kargon, while his unsuccessful attempt to falsify Einstein’s theory of the photoelectric effect, which Millikan described as “unthinkable,” “bold,” and “reckless,” “was undertaken to restrain the excesses of modernity.” In his own writing, Millikan argued against the popular rhetoric of “revolutionary discoveries.” “The growth of science,” he wrote, “is in general by a process of accretion, almost never by revolution.”[^24]

Millikan and the Human Betterment Foundation found common cause because of their shared belief in progress within existing hierarchies, progress without egalitarianism. Millikan often referred to this progress as evolutionary, and here too his vision matched that of the Foundation.[^25] Gosney and Popenoe identified the reproduction of poor people and people with disabilities as a threat to this gradual human progress, and they advocated an evolutionary intervention, reducing reproduction through involuntary sterilization. Consistently with his visions of progress within science and politics, Millikan granted them his support.

[^1]:  Nidhi Subbaraman, “Caltech Confronted Its Racist Past. Here’s What Happened,” *Nature*, November 10, 2021.

[^2]:  Robert H. Kargon, *The Rise of Robert Millikan: Portrait of a Life in American Science* (Cornell University Press, 1982), 66, 70–72, 139–144, 148.

[^3]:  W. P. Few to Robert A. Millikan, June 11, 1936, W. P. Few Correspondence file, Personal Correspondence series, box 39, folder 13, Robert A. Millikan Papers, Caltech Archives and Special Collections.

[^4]:  Robert A. Millikan to W. P. Few, June 24, 1936, William Preston Few Papers, Duke University Archives, reproduced in Margaret W. Rossiter, *Women Scientists in America, Volume 1: Struggles and Strategies to 1940* (Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982), 192–193.

[^5]:  Rossiter, *Women Scientists in America, Volume 1*, 191.

[^6]:  W. P. Few to Robert A. Millikan, July 9, 1936, and Robert A. Millikan to W. P. Few, July 14, 1936, both in W. P. Few Correspondence file.

[^7]:  Robert A. Millikan, “Women’s Century,” October 8, 1937, Speeches and Articles series, box 60, folder 20, Millikan Papers.

[^8]:  Millikan, “Women’s Century”; Amy Sue Bix, *Girls Coming to Tech\! A History of American Engineering Education for Women* (MIT Press, 2013), 194, 213.

[^9]:  \[Robert A. Millikan\], “Some Exceptional Opportunities in Southern California,” April 11, 1924, Institute Official Papers file, Correspondence Regarding Caltech series, box 27, folder 9, p. 1.

[^10]:  \[Millikan\], “Some Exceptional Opportunities,” 1, 5; \[Robert A. Millikan\], “California Institute of Technology: Its Direction, Aims, Accomplishments, Needs, and Financial Condition,” Institute Official Papers file, box 27, folder 8, Millikan Papers, p. 4; Kargon, *Rise of Robert Millikan*, 104; Robert Andrews Millikan, *Science and Life* (Pilgrim, 1924), 11.

[^11]:  Robert A. Millikan to Henry Luce, March 18, 1946, Henry Luce file, Personal Correspondence series, box 41, folder 13, Millikan Papers.

[^12]:  Robert Andrews Millikan, “Evolution Versus Revolution,” *Bulletin of the California Institute of Technology* 51, no. 3 (September 1942): 7.

[^13]:  Robert A. Millikan to Greta B. Millikan, November 17, 1951, Robert A. to Greta B. Millikan file, Millikan Family Correspondence series, box 50, folder 12b, Millikan Papers.

[^14]:  Millikan, “Women’s Century.”

[^15]:  Alexandra Minna Stern, *Eugenic Nation: Faults and Frontiers of Better Breeding in Modern America*, 2nd ed. (University of California Press, 2016), 83–84, 99–100. 

[^16]:  Stern, *Eugenic Nation*, 104–108.

[^17]:  Stefan Kühl, *The Nazi Connection: Eugenics, American Racism, and German National Socialism* (Oxford University Press, 1994), 42–44, 45, 58.

[^18]:  Human Betterment Foundation, *Human Sterilization Today* (Human Betterment Foundation, 1938), 2.

[^19]:  “Human Sterilization Today,” Articles by Staff file, box 1, folder 6, Human Betterment Foundation Records, Caltech Archives and Special Collections.

[^20]:  Stern, *Eugenic Nation*, 120–122.

[^21]:  Human Betterment Foundation Notice of Annual Meeting, January 29, 1938, Annual Meetings 1937–1939 file, box 1, folder 2, HBF Records; HBF, *Human Sterilization Today*, 6.

[^22]:  Proxy forms signed by Robert Millikan, 1939, Annual Meetings 1937–1939 file, folder 1; 1941, Annual Meeting 1941 file, folder 3; January 29, 1942, Annual Meeting 1942 file, folder 4; R. A. Millikan to E. S. Gosney, March 24, 1942, Annual Meeting 1942 file; all in box 1, HBF Records.

[^23]:  R. A. Millikan to E. S. Gosney, February 11, 1942, Annual Meeting 1942 file.

[^24]:  Kargon, *Rise of Robert Millikan*, 59, 66, 74–75, 81.

[^25]:  Kargon, *Rise of Robert Millikan*, 147.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="eugenics" /><category term="physics" /><category term="conservatism" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="politics" /><category term="science" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="white supremacy" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[I presented two versions of this essay in 2022, one in a session of the American Association for the Advancement of Science Annual Meeting and the other for a video produced by the Consortium of History of Science, Technology and Medicine. The video below is of the CHSTM version, while the text is of the longer and more detailed AAAS version. In November, Caltech renamed a building and other assets named after one of its most prominent faculty, American physicist Robert A. Millikan. Over the last year and a half, student and alumni advocacy at Caltech for removing names from the campus landscape has prompted new historical interest in Millikan and in Caltech’s relationship through him and others to the Human Betterment Foundation, which advocated for involuntary eugenic sterilization.1 This paper is one manifestation of that renewed interest. In the context of a session otherwise devoted to Lise Meitner and the roles of discrimination against women in science, I’m going to focus on how Millikan, as a powerful scientist and administrator, himself addressed questions of sex and gender in physics, coeducation, and eugenics. In the 1920s and 1930s, Robert A. Millikan was the most prominent scientist born in the United States. He had received the Nobel Prize in 1923 for his determination of the charge of an electron and for research on the photoelectric effect, an effort to disprove Albert Einstein’s corpuscular theory of the light which instead produced evidence supporting it. He was leading the California Institute of Technology to a central position in physics and in American science. And his research on cosmic rays—a term he coined—had long made headlines, as had his blending of science and religion in describing them as “birth cries” of atoms continually being created.2 When Duke University hired the German refugee physicist Hertha Sponer in 1936, Millikan wrote to department chair Charles W. Edwards questioning the decision. Edwards shared a paragraph with the university’s president, William Preston Few, who wrote to Millikan to ask for further advice.3 Millikan did not elaborate further on his concerns about Sponer, but rather argued generally against hiring women in American university physics departments. “At least 95% of the ablest minds that are now going into physics are men,” he wrote, and they needed men for mentors. There were, Millikan conceded, exceptional women physicists, and indeed, he wrote, “Fraulein Meitner of Berlin and Madam Curie of Paris are in the front rank of the world’s recognized physicists.” But since “no other living women” had achieved as much as Meitner, he suggested, no other was qualified for a professorship.4 As Margaret Rossiter writes, “rather than ‘opening the doors’… these two examples… justified continued exclusion, for, to Millikan at least,” their achievement now marked “the minimum acceptable level.”5 Ultimately, when Few replied that he generally agreed but that Duke’s circumstances were exceptional because it operated a separate women’s college as well as one for men rather than embracing coeducation, Millikan conceded the point.6 Only a year later, in 1937, Millikan took the opposite side on an issue of women and higher education in an internationally broadcast speech on the centenary of admission of women to his alma mater, Oberlin College, and thus the introduction of coeducation to American colleges. In his lecture, Millikan argued that “intelligent men” at Oberlin admitted women because they saw that “the Mississippi Valley… needed an educated womanhood for its fullest development,” and that others expanded coeducation because “a new scientific world” similarly “needed education and brains among women as well as men.” It was the imperial expansion of America west and the intensification of its industry, in Millikan’s account, which liberated its women’s minds. In turn, education and the operation of markets led to the “economic” and “physical emancipation” of women from poverty, dependence, and “hampering and unwholesome social custom” such as “unhygienic dress” and prohibitions on athletics. Progress did not come, argued Millikan, from “hatchets and brickbats and strikes” by militant feminists, or even from legislation mandating suffrage and the right to own property. “Fortunately,” he suggested, suffrage hadn’t actually had a political effect, because women’s voting patterns mirrored men’s; “if there were a sex vote,” he added, “women’s suffrage would be a curse.” Rather, progress in women’s rights came from the continuous expansion of science, technology, and capitalism.7 Taken together, Millikan’s stances on women in higher education suggest that he celebrated inclusion and, as he put it, “liberation,” as long as these trends towards equality did not threaten men’s power and professorships. And while by 1937, “404 of the country’s 625 institutions of collegiate grade are coeducational,” as Millikan noted in a footnote, his own Caltech was not among them: it would first admit a woman graduate student in 1953, after Millikan left the presidency, and would not admit women as undergraduates until 1970.8 While Caltech excluded women, it very much embraced the vision of American expansion in the west which Millikan described as Oberlin’s initial reason for educating them. In a 1924 fundraising document, Millikan described “Some Exceptional Opportunities in Southern California,” a location he argued was uniquely suited for science and industry. Lacking coal, Millikan predicted presciently, it would be a major site for the development of new forms of energy, including solar power. “On account of the climatic conditions existing in the southwestern region,” he wrote, “and the character of the race that inhabits it, the solution of that problem may be expected to come from California.”9 That race was, Millikan wrote, “Nordic,” “Anglo-Saxon,” and “Arian,” ethnicities with which Millikan associated both himself and ideals of “progress,” “responsibility,” and “individual initiative.” Conversely, in his 1924 book Science and Life, Millikan associated Asia with “static civilizations” of irrational and suffering people.10 Decades later, in a 1946 letter to Life publisher Henry Luce regarding British rule in India, Millikan argued for the necessity of colonialism. Only “Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian countries, Holland and Switzerland,” he wrote, were capable of “constitutional, representative government,… but the rest of the world… must be handled by something that approaches dictatorship.”11 All could make progress towards democracy eventually, but it must be extremely gradual, over many generations; Britain, Millikan said in 1942, had the world’s most successful democracy because it had developed over 200 years “by this evolutionary rather than revolutionary process,” while revolutionary countries “are certainly now hundreds of years behind.”12 In a 1951 letter to his wife Greta, Millikan expressed similar concern about self-government by Mississippi’s Black majority, “an unthinkable disaster in view of the sort of people they now are.”13 Despite his rhetoric of progress towards women’s liberation for the Oberlin centennial in 1937, Millikan’s authoritarianism influenced his approaches to sex and gender as well. Among the benefits of “physical emancipation” Millikan listed in 1937 was the demise of “the sex slavery that denied to women the control of when and how she was able to bear her young.”14 The following year, though, he became a trustee of an organization which, in the name of scientific progress and small government, advocated for denying both men and women reproductive autonomy. This was the Human Betterment Foundation. In 1909, California had become the third state to pass a bill authorizing superintendents of asylums and prisons to sterilize patients and inmates without their consent. Over the decades to come, the state sterilized increasing numbers of people, totaling over 20,000 by the 1960s, a third of the national total. Legislators and administrators increasingly articulated their motivations for sterilization in terms of eugenics, selective breeding to improve the fitness of the human population.15 Among eugenic sterilization’s enthusiastic supporters were Pasadena lawyer and rancher Ezra Gosney and biologist Paul Popenoe. In the late 1920s, the two men visited state institutions, obtained copies of their medical records, and began statistical analysis to measure and demonstrate the individual and social benefits of sterilization. They also incorporated the Human Betterment Foundation, recruited a board of trustees which shared members with Caltech’s, and began publishing and distributing books and pamphlets advocating for the expansion of “eugenic sterilization of the hereditary defective.”16 In the early 1930s, the Foundation mailed pamphlets advocating sterilization to Nazi administrators and influenced Germany’s 1933 eugenic sterilization law.17 In their 1938 pamphlet Human Sterilization Today, the Foundation presented sterilization as a solution to the economic problem that “births among families habitually living on public charity are often 50% higher than births among self-supporting families.”18 In a draft of the pamphlet, they expressed an additional racial motivation; “native whites in California,” they wrote, “produce only 69% enough children to take the place of those who die.”19 Enacting this anxiety about the demise of the white race, the state of California disproportionately sterilized Mexican and Mexican-American people; state institutions also disproportionately sterilized women.20 1938 was also the year in which Millikan joined the Foundation’s board of trustees.21 He thus lent the organization his scientific reputation and formally took responsibility for its work. While Millikan sometimes missed meetings of the Foundation, in letters to Gosney he expressed his enthusiastic support.22 “May I congratulate you and the Trustees of the Human Betterment Foundation,” he wrote in one, “on the generous gift that you are making to a great cause.”23 In his insightful Rise of Robert Millikan, Robert Kargon writes that Millikan “saw himself as a progressive-conservative” and that his approach to research also embodied this duality, as he strived to contribute both to the new physics with its emphasis on theorizing the subatomic and to the distinctly American, pragmatic, measurement-oriented physics of his mentor A. A. Michelson. “Millikan’s choice of the measurement of e as a research program reflects his decision to serve two masters,” writes Kargon, while his unsuccessful attempt to falsify Einstein’s theory of the photoelectric effect, which Millikan described as “unthinkable,” “bold,” and “reckless,” “was undertaken to restrain the excesses of modernity.” In his own writing, Millikan argued against the popular rhetoric of “revolutionary discoveries.” “The growth of science,” he wrote, “is in general by a process of accretion, almost never by revolution.”24 Millikan and the Human Betterment Foundation found common cause because of their shared belief in progress within existing hierarchies, progress without egalitarianism. Millikan often referred to this progress as evolutionary, and here too his vision matched that of the Foundation.25 Gosney and Popenoe identified the reproduction of poor people and people with disabilities as a threat to this gradual human progress, and they advocated an evolutionary intervention, reducing reproduction through involuntary sterilization. Consistently with his visions of progress within science and politics, Millikan granted them his support. Nidhi Subbaraman, “Caltech Confronted Its Racist Past. Here’s What Happened,” Nature, November 10, 2021. &#8617; Robert H. Kargon, The Rise of Robert Millikan: Portrait of a Life in American Science (Cornell University Press, 1982), 66, 70–72, 139–144, 148. &#8617; W. P. Few to Robert A. Millikan, June 11, 1936, W. P. Few Correspondence file, Personal Correspondence series, box 39, folder 13, Robert A. Millikan Papers, Caltech Archives and Special Collections. &#8617; Robert A. Millikan to W. P. Few, June 24, 1936, William Preston Few Papers, Duke University Archives, reproduced in Margaret W. Rossiter, Women Scientists in America, Volume 1: Struggles and Strategies to 1940 (Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982), 192–193. &#8617; Rossiter, Women Scientists in America, Volume 1, 191. &#8617; W. P. Few to Robert A. Millikan, July 9, 1936, and Robert A. Millikan to W. P. Few, July 14, 1936, both in W. P. Few Correspondence file. &#8617; Robert A. Millikan, “Women’s Century,” October 8, 1937, Speeches and Articles series, box 60, folder 20, Millikan Papers. &#8617; Millikan, “Women’s Century”; Amy Sue Bix, Girls Coming to Tech! A History of American Engineering Education for Women (MIT Press, 2013), 194, 213. &#8617; [Robert A. Millikan], “Some Exceptional Opportunities in Southern California,” April 11, 1924, Institute Official Papers file, Correspondence Regarding Caltech series, box 27, folder 9, p. 1. &#8617; [Millikan], “Some Exceptional Opportunities,” 1, 5; [Robert A. Millikan], “California Institute of Technology: Its Direction, Aims, Accomplishments, Needs, and Financial Condition,” Institute Official Papers file, box 27, folder 8, Millikan Papers, p. 4; Kargon, Rise of Robert Millikan, 104; Robert Andrews Millikan, Science and Life (Pilgrim, 1924), 11. &#8617; Robert A. Millikan to Henry Luce, March 18, 1946, Henry Luce file, Personal Correspondence series, box 41, folder 13, Millikan Papers. &#8617; Robert Andrews Millikan, “Evolution Versus Revolution,” Bulletin of the California Institute of Technology 51, no. 3 (September 1942): 7. &#8617; Robert A. Millikan to Greta B. Millikan, November 17, 1951, Robert A. to Greta B. Millikan file, Millikan Family Correspondence series, box 50, folder 12b, Millikan Papers. &#8617; Millikan, “Women’s Century.” &#8617; Alexandra Minna Stern, Eugenic Nation: Faults and Frontiers of Better Breeding in Modern America, 2nd ed. (University of California Press, 2016), 83–84, 99–100. &#8617; Stern, Eugenic Nation, 104–108. &#8617; Stefan Kühl, The Nazi Connection: Eugenics, American Racism, and German National Socialism (Oxford University Press, 1994), 42–44, 45, 58. &#8617; Human Betterment Foundation, Human Sterilization Today (Human Betterment Foundation, 1938), 2. &#8617; “Human Sterilization Today,” Articles by Staff file, box 1, folder 6, Human Betterment Foundation Records, Caltech Archives and Special Collections. &#8617; Stern, Eugenic Nation, 120–122. &#8617; Human Betterment Foundation Notice of Annual Meeting, January 29, 1938, Annual Meetings 1937–1939 file, box 1, folder 2, HBF Records; HBF, Human Sterilization Today, 6. &#8617; Proxy forms signed by Robert Millikan, 1939, Annual Meetings 1937–1939 file, folder 1; 1941, Annual Meeting 1941 file, folder 3; January 29, 1942, Annual Meeting 1942 file, folder 4; R. A. Millikan to E. S. Gosney, March 24, 1942, Annual Meeting 1942 file; all in box 1, HBF Records. &#8617; R. A. Millikan to E. S. Gosney, February 11, 1942, Annual Meeting 1942 file. &#8617; Kargon, Rise of Robert Millikan, 59, 66, 74–75, 81. &#8617; Kargon, Rise of Robert Millikan, 147. &#8617;]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Iterating Infrastructure from High Volts to X-Rays to Nuclear Physics: Early Caltech Science in the Archives</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/iterating-infrastructure/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Iterating Infrastructure from High Volts to X-Rays to Nuclear Physics: Early Caltech Science in the Archives" /><published>2022-01-13T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2022-01-13T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/iterating-infrastructure</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/iterating-infrastructure/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

In the 1920s and 1930s, Caltech iteratively developed infrastructure for research on high-voltage electricity, x-rays, and nuclear physics. In 1923, the Institute built the High Voltage Research Laboratory, now the Ronald and Maxine Lind Hall of Mathematics and Physics, with funding from Southern California Edison, which used the unique million-volt high-bay research facility to test high-voltage transmission equipment. Among Caltech's faculty, electrical engineer Royal Sorensen invented the cascade transformer for the facility, and physicist Robert Millikan planned to use its power to dismantle the atom and achieve the alchemists' dream of transmutation of matter. Instead, though, Millikan's student Charles Lauritsen made High Volts a key site for high-voltage x-ray research, including on the uses of radiation therapy for cancer, bringing medical physics to Caltech in the early 1930s. Lauritsen and his students in turn modified their x-ray tubes to conduct research in nuclear physics, realizing Millikan's vision of deconstructing the atom. These three research programs built on each other, repurposing apparatus and thus ultimately the resources of the electricity industry to develop experimental physics in new directions. In this talk, I will use this early history of Caltech physics to think about both how research programs are shaped by the material resources of earlier projects and what we can learn from the collections of the Caltech Archives.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="physics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="technology" /><category term="science" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the 1920s and 1930s, Caltech iteratively developed infrastructure for research on high-voltage electricity, x-rays, and nuclear physics. In 1923, the Institute built the High Voltage Research Laboratory, now the Ronald and Maxine Lind Hall of Mathematics and Physics, with funding from Southern California Edison, which used the unique million-volt high-bay research facility to test high-voltage transmission equipment. Among Caltech’s faculty, electrical engineer Royal Sorensen invented the cascade transformer for the facility, and physicist Robert Millikan planned to use its power to dismantle the atom and achieve the alchemists’ dream of transmutation of matter. Instead, though, Millikan’s student Charles Lauritsen made High Volts a key site for high-voltage x-ray research, including on the uses of radiation therapy for cancer, bringing medical physics to Caltech in the early 1930s. Lauritsen and his students in turn modified their x-ray tubes to conduct research in nuclear physics, realizing Millikan’s vision of deconstructing the atom. These three research programs built on each other, repurposing apparatus and thus ultimately the resources of the electricity industry to develop experimental physics in new directions. In this talk, I will use this early history of Caltech physics to think about both how research programs are shaped by the material resources of earlier projects and what we can learn from the collections of the Caltech Archives.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Archiving Communities of Resilience and Resistance in Caltech’s Present &amp;amp; Past</title><link href="https://collopy.net/discussions/2021/archiving-communities/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Archiving Communities of Resilience and Resistance in Caltech’s Present &amp;amp; Past" /><published>2021-04-07T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2021-04-07T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/discussions/2021/archiving-communities</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/discussions/2021/archiving-communities/"><![CDATA[The legacy of Caltech is marked by stories of injustice. It is also marked by the communities forged in the face of that injustice, exclusion, and bigotry. In this virtual event hosted on April 27, 2021, a panel of current and former members of Caltech’s staff, faculty, and student body (Rochelle Diamond, Dr. Melany Hunt, and Dr. Edray Goins) offered reflections on their personal histories of organizing, agitating, and advocating on campus.

In doing so, we consider the ways that remembering those histories - through practices of archiving and other forms of memory work - can inform, ground, and inspire present and future activism at Caltech.

The event also included remarks from Dr. Peter Collopy, Caltech’s University Archivist, and was facilitated by Nivetha (Niv) Karthikeyan as part of her 2020 Milton and Rosalind Chang Prize project, “Intersections: Building Solidarity Through Community Archives.”

This event was hosted by Athena Castro and Greg Fletcher in the Caltech Y.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="discussions" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="politics" /><category term="archives" /><category term="science" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The legacy of Caltech is marked by stories of injustice. It is also marked by the communities forged in the face of that injustice, exclusion, and bigotry. In this virtual event hosted on April 27, 2021, a panel of current and former members of Caltech’s staff, faculty, and student body (Rochelle Diamond, Dr. Melany Hunt, and Dr. Edray Goins) offered reflections on their personal histories of organizing, agitating, and advocating on campus. In doing so, we consider the ways that remembering those histories - through practices of archiving and other forms of memory work - can inform, ground, and inspire present and future activism at Caltech. The event also included remarks from Dr. Peter Collopy, Caltech’s University Archivist, and was facilitated by Nivetha (Niv) Karthikeyan as part of her 2020 Milton and Rosalind Chang Prize project, “Intersections: Building Solidarity Through Community Archives.” This event was hosted by Athena Castro and Greg Fletcher in the Caltech Y.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Caltech’s House of Lightning</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/house-of-lightning/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Caltech’s House of Lightning" /><published>2020-10-08T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-10-08T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/house-of-lightning</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/house-of-lightning/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

In 1923, Caltech and Southern California Edison Company built the High Voltage Research Laboratory to test high-voltage equipment and conduct research in physics and electrical engineering. Designed by architect Bertram Goodhue, with sculpture by Lee Lawrie, it became home to electrical demonstrations and research on x-rays and nuclear physics.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="physics" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In 1923, Caltech and Southern California Edison Company built the High Voltage Research Laboratory to test high-voltage equipment and conduct research in physics and electrical engineering. Designed by architect Bertram Goodhue, with sculpture by Lee Lawrie, it became home to electrical demonstrations and research on x-rays and nuclear physics.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Sitting Down with Uncomfortable Things in the Caltech Archives</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/uncomfortable-things/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Sitting Down with Uncomfortable Things in the Caltech Archives" /><published>2020-10-02T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-10-02T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/uncomfortable-things</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/uncomfortable-things/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

In this event, members of the Caltech community presented their reflections on a collection of digitized materials curated from the Caltech Archives. The “uncomfortable things” selected for this discussion were artifacts of experiences of exclusion, inequality, discrimination, and bigotry in the history of Caltech. In this session, we acknowledged that the legacy of Caltech is intertwined with stories of injustice. By asking participants to personally reflect on that legacy, this event highlighted how there is no single solution or perspective sufficient to answer the multitude of questions and concerns that our community has about its history.

This event took place on October 2, 2020 as part of the series “Critical Intersections: Conversations on History, Race, and Science,” sponsored by the Caltech Division of the Humanities and Social Sciences.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="eugenics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="politics" /><category term="science" /><category term="conservatism" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="education" /><category term="white supremacy" /><category term="California" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In this event, members of the Caltech community presented their reflections on a collection of digitized materials curated from the Caltech Archives. The “uncomfortable things” selected for this discussion were artifacts of experiences of exclusion, inequality, discrimination, and bigotry in the history of Caltech. In this session, we acknowledged that the legacy of Caltech is intertwined with stories of injustice. By asking participants to personally reflect on that legacy, this event highlighted how there is no single solution or perspective sufficient to answer the multitude of questions and concerns that our community has about its history. This event took place on October 2, 2020 as part of the series “Critical Intersections: Conversations on History, Race, and Science,” sponsored by the Caltech Division of the Humanities and Social Sciences.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Ready, Set, Spark</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2020/ready-set-spark/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Ready, Set, Spark" /><published>2020-08-13T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-08-13T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2020/ready-set-spark</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2020/ready-set-spark/"><![CDATA[When Caltech's former Sloan Lab reopened in January 2019 as the Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics, staff, faculty, and students encountered a structure with a transformed interior that was originally built 97 years ago. Over the course of a century, it has witnessed many changes, evolving to suit the needs of the disciplines it has served: physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering. In its earliest years, the building was known by several names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory and High Voltage Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It came into being out of a partnership between Caltech and the Southern California Edison (SCE) company, which contributed money to its construction in exchange for use of it for research. SCE had recently decided to change its transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. The lines and associated equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so SCE wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="physics" /><category term="technology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[When Caltech’s former Sloan Lab reopened in January 2019 as the Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics, staff, faculty, and students encountered a structure with a transformed interior that was originally built 97 years ago. Over the course of a century, it has witnessed many changes, evolving to suit the needs of the disciplines it has served: physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering. In its earliest years, the building was known by several names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory and High Voltage Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It came into being out of a partnership between Caltech and the Southern California Edison (SCE) company, which contributed money to its construction in exchange for use of it for research. SCE had recently decided to change its transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. The lines and associated equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so SCE wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Biology Returns to Caltech</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/biology-returns-to-caltech/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Biology Returns to Caltech" /><published>2020-08-06T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-08-06T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/biology-returns-to%20caltech</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/biology-returns-to-caltech/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="biology" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="science" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">From High Volts to High Energy Physics</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/from-high-volts/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="From High Volts to High Energy Physics" /><published>2020-07-23T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-07-23T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/from-high-volts</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/from-high-volts/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

Last year, Caltech rededicated a building on its campus following a major renovation. The Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory for Mathematics and Physics became the Ronald and Maxine Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics. Linde Hall occupies a structure which is now 97 years old and has evolved over that time with the disciplines of physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering.

The building, constructed in 1923, originally had a few names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory, High Voltage Research Laboratory, and High Potential Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It was the fifth permanent building constructed on Caltech’s campus, after Throop Hall, Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, Culbertson Auditorium, and the Norman Bridge Laboratory of Physics.

Astrophysicist George Ellery Hale, as a Caltech trustee, conceived of the laboratory as part of a strategy of persuading experimentalist Robert Millikan to come to Caltech. Millikan was tortured—his word, not mine—by his decision of whether to come to Caltech or stay at the University of Chicago. Hale’s fellow trustees Henry M. Robinson and Arthur Fleming—both of whom became namesakes of buildings on campus—were also on the board of directors of the local electric company, Southern California Edison.

Hale proposed to them that if the Edison Company bought Caltech a new laboratory, both parties would benefit: “I believe the Company would get its money back in the form of new information regarding insulation and other problems connected with high voltage lines, not to speak of the advertising value.” He was right: The company's interest came from a decision they made around 1920 to change their transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. Such lines and associated insulators, transformers, circuit breakers, and other equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so the Edison Company wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory. The lab cost $139,915, of which Edison paid $105,000.

The design of High Volts was also a collaboration. Millikan provided specifications, including a requirement that the building have ventilation to allow ozone to escape but also not let in light. The interior was dominated by a single large industrial space packed with high-voltage apparatus, including two key pieces of million-volt equipment. A million-volt surge generator produced rapid impulses of artificial lightning. In addition, Royal Sorensen, who founded electrical engineering at Caltech when he was hired in 1910, invented the cascade transformer in 1922 (an innovation which was simultaneously made by others in Germany) and designed a million-volt model, composed of four 250,000 volt transformers built by Westinghouse which each weighed 22 tons, for High Volts; it stepped an externally-supplied 15,000 volts up to a million volts of continuous current. Edison engineers designed a steel frame, the second constructed in Pasadena, and prominent architect Bertram Goodhue designed the exterior, which used a diamond pattern to provide texture in the absence of windows. The similarly prominent architectural sculptor Lee Lawrie produced a relief over the entry which conveyed the high voltage research performed within.

Sorensen regularly gave a public lecture and demonstration on high voltage electricity, with the latter portion taking place in High Volts. “It proved to have its usual strong draw this year when, on a rainy Friday evening, almost 1000 people stormed East Bridge,” reported *Engineering and Science*, Caltech’s research magazine, in 1949. “Prof. Sorensen obligingly gave his lecture twice, and the lab ran off three demonstrations, while a special police detail coped with the crush.”

In [his oral history](http://resolver.caltech.edu/CaltechOH:OH_Roberts_J), Caltech chemistry professor John Roberts recalls visiting Caltech as a teenager for these demonstrations:

>The High Voltage Lab was a fabulous attraction. What is now the Sloan building then had no windows in it. It was deep down inside—just a great big basement-like room with no upper floors. And they had these big girders up at the top. The floor of this room was filled with all kinds of electrical equipment—enormous transformers, and condensers, and so on, big swooping insulators. It looked like Frankenstein’s laboratory. Great transformers topped with big mushroom rings, you know, they used to shoot sparks off of.… They’d have a “horn gap,” where a pair of wires would be close together at the top of the transformer and far apart at the top of the room. They would start an arc at the bottom and it would grow in length and rise to the ceiling. That was really impressive to watch as the arcs got up to the ceiling, and then crack, and disappear. They’d make this crackling noise as they’d go up. And then they’d charge up the condensers and shoot off big sparks, and blow up some blocks of wood, and stuff like that.

According to the February 1949 issue of *Engineering and Science*, “these facilities have been used to aid Southern California Edison in the development of high voltage transmission lines, to furnish lightning protection of oil storage tanks for the oil industry, to test insulators for numerous utility companies.” The transmission lines tested at High Volts made it possible to transmit electricity to Southern California from the Hoover Dam in Nevada. Among the significant inventions of the lab was a vacuum switch designed by Sorensen and Millikan which was manufactured for aircraft and other industries.

Going back to 1921, though, as Hale saw it in his letter to his fellow trustees, though, High Volts would have an entirely different benefit for the physicist he was trying to recruit. “Millikan,” he wrote, “would also have the advantage of using enormous voltage to bust up some of his atoms. This possibility, which no other laboratory could match, is what excites him.… When a man gets on the trail of the philosopher's stone, even if he isn't after gold, you can accomplish a great deal by offering it to him!”

Millikan's interest did indeed come from his interest in taking apart atoms and discovering what they were made of. He was also seeking, as Hale's reference to the philosopher's stone suggests, to transmute matter from one element to another by reconstructing the nucleus. In 1904, Millikan had already written that “the dreams of the ancient alchemists are true, for the radioactive elements all appear to be slowly but spontaneously transmuting themselves into other elements.” In 1912, he believed he and his student George Winchester produced hydrogen ions from aluminum using high-voltage electricity. In 1919, Ernest Rutherford persuaded more physicists that he had caused nitrogen atoms to eject protons by bombarding them with alpha particles. Several scientists claimed they had turned various metals into gold in the 1920s using electricity—it was a renaissance of alchemy.

Although Millikan submitted a grant proposal for support for this research in 1921, and although he, Hale, and Caltech as an institution occasionally referred to the High Voltage Laboratory as intended for investigations inside the atom, Millikan never published the results of his efforts to transmute matter at Caltech, nor can evidence of it be found in his surviving laboratory notebooks. In his article on the subject, historian Robert Kargon, suggests that “these efforts may have in fact been made but were unsuccessful,” adding that Millikan “preferred to bury quietly unfruitful enterprises; he position as fundraiser for an exciting new research center made such unpublicized interment a practical necessity.” Ultimately, then, the new lab would find other uses.

Charles Lauritsen, who received his PhD from Caltech in 1929 and remained here for the rest of his career, made High Volts a key site for high-voltage X-ray research, building the first million-volt X-ray tube there in about 1930. Lauritsen soon became interested in the medical applications of this device, writing in his patent application that “radiations substantially the frequency of the gamma radiation from radium may be obtained from the tube” and that “such tubes can therefore be employed as the full equivalent of radium in the treatment of disease, or for therapeutic purposes.”

Although Caltech biologists steered clear of medical applications at this time, its physicists did not. Millikan enlisted local physician Seeley G. Mudd, whose mother was already donating a geology building to the Institute in memory of his father, mining tycoon Seeley W. Mudd. That building is now typically called North Mudd, as the younger Mudd later donated an associated building named after himself as well, South Mudd. I for one didn't realize until I was preparing this talk that the two buildings are named after two different men.

To return to our story, Millikan enlisted the younger Mudd in a partnership researching the therapeutic effects of Lauritsen's million-volt x-ray tube compared to lower voltage radiation already available in hospitals, and the Los Angeles County General Hospital began to bring cancer patients to High Volts for radiation therapy. Although he was independently wealthy and didn't receive a salary, and indeed donated money as well as his time to the project, Caltech appointed Mudd became Research Associate in Radiation, and later, in 1935, Professor of X-Ray Therapy. Physician Clyde Emery was made Assistant Professor of X-Ray Therapy at the same time. Caltech's medical physics research was so active that it became one of the main reasons for the Institute to construct a new building, Kellogg Radiation Laboratory, in 1932.

Meanwhile, Lauritsen’s students, funded by their work maintaining x-ray tubes for radiation therapy, began modifying High Volts equipment for nuclear physics, making Millikan's vision of deconstructing the atom there a reality; H. Richard Crane, for example, produced neutrons by ion beam for the first time in the early 1930s. “The transmutation of the elements, now an accomplished fact,” wrote Millikan to their funder, W. K. Kellogg, “plus artificial radioactivity, plus neutron beams—all three effects producible by Lauritsen tubes—plus the manifold uses of ultra-short wireless waves, therapeutic and otherwise, open up endless opportunities.”

As with many research programs, radiation therapy came to an end at Caltech when funders—not only Kellogg but also the National Academy of Sciences’ National Cancer Advisory Council and the Childs Foundation, decided to stop funding it. In the early 1940s, Kellogg was dramatically repurposed for research on rocketry as the US prepared to enter World War II.

High Volts retained its unusual, single-room architecture until 1960, when Caltech renovated it into the Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory of Mathematics and Physics, producing a more conventional internal structure, with windows and five floors of space, including new basements, rather than a single large room. By this point, it had had a storied career contributing to electrical engineering, nuclear physics, radiation therapy, spectacular public demonstrations, and even science we might call alchemy.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="physics" /><category term="technology" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="science" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Last year, Caltech rededicated a building on its campus following a major renovation. The Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory for Mathematics and Physics became the Ronald and Maxine Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics. Linde Hall occupies a structure which is now 97 years old and has evolved over that time with the disciplines of physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering. The building, constructed in 1923, originally had a few names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory, High Voltage Research Laboratory, and High Potential Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It was the fifth permanent building constructed on Caltech’s campus, after Throop Hall, Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, Culbertson Auditorium, and the Norman Bridge Laboratory of Physics. Astrophysicist George Ellery Hale, as a Caltech trustee, conceived of the laboratory as part of a strategy of persuading experimentalist Robert Millikan to come to Caltech. Millikan was tortured—his word, not mine—by his decision of whether to come to Caltech or stay at the University of Chicago. Hale’s fellow trustees Henry M. Robinson and Arthur Fleming—both of whom became namesakes of buildings on campus—were also on the board of directors of the local electric company, Southern California Edison. Hale proposed to them that if the Edison Company bought Caltech a new laboratory, both parties would benefit: “I believe the Company would get its money back in the form of new information regarding insulation and other problems connected with high voltage lines, not to speak of the advertising value.” He was right: The company’s interest came from a decision they made around 1920 to change their transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. Such lines and associated insulators, transformers, circuit breakers, and other equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so the Edison Company wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory. The lab cost $139,915, of which Edison paid $105,000. The design of High Volts was also a collaboration. Millikan provided specifications, including a requirement that the building have ventilation to allow ozone to escape but also not let in light. The interior was dominated by a single large industrial space packed with high-voltage apparatus, including two key pieces of million-volt equipment. A million-volt surge generator produced rapid impulses of artificial lightning. In addition, Royal Sorensen, who founded electrical engineering at Caltech when he was hired in 1910, invented the cascade transformer in 1922 (an innovation which was simultaneously made by others in Germany) and designed a million-volt model, composed of four 250,000 volt transformers built by Westinghouse which each weighed 22 tons, for High Volts; it stepped an externally-supplied 15,000 volts up to a million volts of continuous current. Edison engineers designed a steel frame, the second constructed in Pasadena, and prominent architect Bertram Goodhue designed the exterior, which used a diamond pattern to provide texture in the absence of windows. The similarly prominent architectural sculptor Lee Lawrie produced a relief over the entry which conveyed the high voltage research performed within. Sorensen regularly gave a public lecture and demonstration on high voltage electricity, with the latter portion taking place in High Volts. “It proved to have its usual strong draw this year when, on a rainy Friday evening, almost 1000 people stormed East Bridge,” reported Engineering and Science, Caltech’s research magazine, in 1949. “Prof. Sorensen obligingly gave his lecture twice, and the lab ran off three demonstrations, while a special police detail coped with the crush.” In his oral history, Caltech chemistry professor John Roberts recalls visiting Caltech as a teenager for these demonstrations: The High Voltage Lab was a fabulous attraction. What is now the Sloan building then had no windows in it. It was deep down inside—just a great big basement-like room with no upper floors. And they had these big girders up at the top. The floor of this room was filled with all kinds of electrical equipment—enormous transformers, and condensers, and so on, big swooping insulators. It looked like Frankenstein’s laboratory. Great transformers topped with big mushroom rings, you know, they used to shoot sparks off of.… They’d have a “horn gap,” where a pair of wires would be close together at the top of the transformer and far apart at the top of the room. They would start an arc at the bottom and it would grow in length and rise to the ceiling. That was really impressive to watch as the arcs got up to the ceiling, and then crack, and disappear. They’d make this crackling noise as they’d go up. And then they’d charge up the condensers and shoot off big sparks, and blow up some blocks of wood, and stuff like that. According to the February 1949 issue of Engineering and Science, “these facilities have been used to aid Southern California Edison in the development of high voltage transmission lines, to furnish lightning protection of oil storage tanks for the oil industry, to test insulators for numerous utility companies.” The transmission lines tested at High Volts made it possible to transmit electricity to Southern California from the Hoover Dam in Nevada. Among the significant inventions of the lab was a vacuum switch designed by Sorensen and Millikan which was manufactured for aircraft and other industries. Going back to 1921, though, as Hale saw it in his letter to his fellow trustees, though, High Volts would have an entirely different benefit for the physicist he was trying to recruit. “Millikan,” he wrote, “would also have the advantage of using enormous voltage to bust up some of his atoms. This possibility, which no other laboratory could match, is what excites him.… When a man gets on the trail of the philosopher’s stone, even if he isn’t after gold, you can accomplish a great deal by offering it to him!” Millikan’s interest did indeed come from his interest in taking apart atoms and discovering what they were made of. He was also seeking, as Hale’s reference to the philosopher’s stone suggests, to transmute matter from one element to another by reconstructing the nucleus. In 1904, Millikan had already written that “the dreams of the ancient alchemists are true, for the radioactive elements all appear to be slowly but spontaneously transmuting themselves into other elements.” In 1912, he believed he and his student George Winchester produced hydrogen ions from aluminum using high-voltage electricity. In 1919, Ernest Rutherford persuaded more physicists that he had caused nitrogen atoms to eject protons by bombarding them with alpha particles. Several scientists claimed they had turned various metals into gold in the 1920s using electricity—it was a renaissance of alchemy. Although Millikan submitted a grant proposal for support for this research in 1921, and although he, Hale, and Caltech as an institution occasionally referred to the High Voltage Laboratory as intended for investigations inside the atom, Millikan never published the results of his efforts to transmute matter at Caltech, nor can evidence of it be found in his surviving laboratory notebooks. In his article on the subject, historian Robert Kargon, suggests that “these efforts may have in fact been made but were unsuccessful,” adding that Millikan “preferred to bury quietly unfruitful enterprises; he position as fundraiser for an exciting new research center made such unpublicized interment a practical necessity.” Ultimately, then, the new lab would find other uses. Charles Lauritsen, who received his PhD from Caltech in 1929 and remained here for the rest of his career, made High Volts a key site for high-voltage X-ray research, building the first million-volt X-ray tube there in about 1930. Lauritsen soon became interested in the medical applications of this device, writing in his patent application that “radiations substantially the frequency of the gamma radiation from radium may be obtained from the tube” and that “such tubes can therefore be employed as the full equivalent of radium in the treatment of disease, or for therapeutic purposes.” Although Caltech biologists steered clear of medical applications at this time, its physicists did not. Millikan enlisted local physician Seeley G. Mudd, whose mother was already donating a geology building to the Institute in memory of his father, mining tycoon Seeley W. Mudd. That building is now typically called North Mudd, as the younger Mudd later donated an associated building named after himself as well, South Mudd. I for one didn’t realize until I was preparing this talk that the two buildings are named after two different men. To return to our story, Millikan enlisted the younger Mudd in a partnership researching the therapeutic effects of Lauritsen’s million-volt x-ray tube compared to lower voltage radiation already available in hospitals, and the Los Angeles County General Hospital began to bring cancer patients to High Volts for radiation therapy. Although he was independently wealthy and didn’t receive a salary, and indeed donated money as well as his time to the project, Caltech appointed Mudd became Research Associate in Radiation, and later, in 1935, Professor of X-Ray Therapy. Physician Clyde Emery was made Assistant Professor of X-Ray Therapy at the same time. Caltech’s medical physics research was so active that it became one of the main reasons for the Institute to construct a new building, Kellogg Radiation Laboratory, in 1932. Meanwhile, Lauritsen’s students, funded by their work maintaining x-ray tubes for radiation therapy, began modifying High Volts equipment for nuclear physics, making Millikan’s vision of deconstructing the atom there a reality; H. Richard Crane, for example, produced neutrons by ion beam for the first time in the early 1930s. “The transmutation of the elements, now an accomplished fact,” wrote Millikan to their funder, W. K. Kellogg, “plus artificial radioactivity, plus neutron beams—all three effects producible by Lauritsen tubes—plus the manifold uses of ultra-short wireless waves, therapeutic and otherwise, open up endless opportunities.” As with many research programs, radiation therapy came to an end at Caltech when funders—not only Kellogg but also the National Academy of Sciences’ National Cancer Advisory Council and the Childs Foundation, decided to stop funding it. In the early 1940s, Kellogg was dramatically repurposed for research on rocketry as the US prepared to enter World War II. High Volts retained its unusual, single-room architecture until 1960, when Caltech renovated it into the Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory of Mathematics and Physics, producing a more conventional internal structure, with windows and five floors of space, including new basements, rather than a single large room. By this point, it had had a storied career contributing to electrical engineering, nuclear physics, radiation therapy, spectacular public demonstrations, and even science we might call alchemy.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Chemistry Comes to Caltech</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/chemistry-comes-to-caltech/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Chemistry Comes to Caltech" /><published>2020-06-25T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-06-25T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/chemistry-comes-to-caltech</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/chemistry-comes-to-caltech/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

As we mentioned in our presentations two weeks ago, the Throop of the 1910s and the Caltech of the 1920s were deeply shaped by astrophysicist George Ellery Hale’s vision for the institution. Hale came to Pasadena to found and direct Mount Wilson Observatory, but had just as much influence as a trustee of the local college.

Hale’s own education had been at MIT, which became a model both for what Throop should be and for what it should not. Among his instructors in 1887 was the chemist Arthur Amos Noyes, who was only two years older and had just earned his BS and MS, also from MIT. The two men became friends. At the end of the year, Noyes—like many young American scientists of his time—travelled to Germany to study for his PhD. He conducted research on the solubility of salts in the laboratory of physical chemist Wilhelm Ostwald, and earned his PhD from the University of Leipzig in 1890, the same year Hale earned his BS.

Noyes returned to MIT and taught organic, analytical, and physical chemistry, publishing a textbook on each. “A characteristic of *Chemical Principles* was the use of problems so phrased as to lead the student to derive the basic equations,” wrote one of Noyes’ students’ students, Linus Pauling. His “books have been described as revolutionizing the teaching of analytical chemistry and physical chemistry in America.” Noyes also founded the *Review of American Chemical Research*, which became *Chemical Abstracts*. In 1904, he became the youngest president yet of the American Chemical Society.

Noyes’ research, meanwhile, concerned the chemical properties of rare elements and incorporating them into chemical analysis. In 1903, Noyes founded the Research Laboratory of Physical Chemistry at MIT, which trained the first MIT students to receive PhDs. Even though he had spent his entire career there, Noyes often found himself at odds with his colleagues, particularly about pedagogy. Engineers should study physics, chemistry, and mathematics, he argued, telling a group of freshmen that without science “you would be only rule-of-thumb engineers, who could imitate, but not initiate.” Noyes and Hale also agreed that engineers should study the arts and humanities.

From 1907 to 1909, Noyes served as acting president of MIT. He left the position frustrated, and Hale began wooing him to come to Throop and build a new research institute together. “If you chose,” wrote Hale, “you would be given a free hand to develop the Engineering School [or] to devote yourself entirely to chemical research, simply giving us the privilege of discussing with you the problems encountered in working out the educational scheme.”

At first, Noyes declined, but in 1913 Hale sweetened the offer. If Noyes would only visit and teach for two months, wrote Hale, Throop would provide him a new laboratory building. Noyes agreed, and all that remained for Throop was to raise funds to build the laboratory. “I don’t know where this building is coming from,” Hale confessed in a letter to his wife.

Trustee Charles Warner Gates, who had amassed his fortune in the Arkansas lumber industry before retiring to South Pasadena, pledged $25,000 toward the project. He soon recruited his brother and business partner Peter Goddard Gates to contribute as well. Arthur Fleming, who had donated more to Throop than anyone else, promised another $20,000 for equipment and salaries, but only on the condition that Noyes agree to resettle permanently in Pasadena. College president James A.B. Scherer, who until now had left negotiations to Hale, wired Noyes to urge him to accept the offer, calling it “Throop’s superlative opportunity.”

Noyes, though, made a counteroffer. He would split his time between Throop and MIT for two years as an experiment. In 1915, the parties agreed on this arrangement. Noyes, a lifelong bachelor, would travel across the country alone by train several times over the next few years. On one visit to Throop, he addressed the school’s 91 students on his belief that science was necessary for engineering: “Industrial research is not the main research opportunity of educational institutions,” he told them. “The main field for education institutions is research in pure science itself—a study of fundamental principles and phenomena, without immediate reference to practical application.… Scientific investigation is the spring that feeds the stream of technical progress, and if the spring dries up the stream is sure to disappear.” Given the option of leaving the university, Noyes became still more assertive about his opinions at MIT as well; “I have become much more warlike,” he wrote to Hale.

As we heard from Loma two weeks ago, Throop’s leaders selected Los Angeles architect Elmer Grey to design the Gates Laboratory of Chemistry. They also asked Bertram Goodhue, who they had hired to develop a campus plan for Throop, to consult, and he designed a facade in the Spanish Colonial Revival style for which he was known.

On March 10, 1916, three years after it was first proposed, construction of the two-story, reinforced-concrete building began. When completed a year later, it contained, floor-by-floor, supply rooms and dedicated laboratories for technical analysis, chemical engineering, industrial chemistry, and photochemistry in the basement. The first floor contained a lecture hall, an additional supply room, and laboratories for organic and inorganic chemistry. The second floor contained a library, a shop, and additional laboratories for physical chemistry, analytical chemistry, and research. Here are some of the laboratories. “I remember very specially the aromatic smell of the Gates Laboratory,” Caltech chemist John Roberts later recalled of touring the building as a teenager. “They used to run chemistry demonstrations in the big lab, and those were absolutely fascinating. It was a marvelous thing for a young person to be exposed to that.” Noyes’ himself sometimes preferred not to leave the laboratory, and kept a cot and food in his office.

The building’s exterior featured carved stone and wrought-iron trim. Here you can see Gates in the foreground with Pasadena Hall—soon renamed Throop Hall—beyond it, and the Old Dorm beyond that. The road to upper right is California Boulevard; the one the lower left is the part of San Pasqual since replaced by a path through campus.

Noyes began spending a few months a year at Throop, and in 1919 he left MIT and made Pasadena his fulltime home. In Boston, Noyes was an avid sailor and named his yacht Research. In Pasadena, he bought a large touring car, a Cadillac, and invited new graduate students on camping trips in the desert.

During conversations about changing Throop’s name in 1919, Noyes voiced a strong opinion: “Even more vital” than new buildings, he wrote to Scherer, “both on the financial and on the educational and research side, would be the change of its name to the California Institute of… I do not care very much what word or words are put in place of the dots. I am still inclined to think that Science and Engineering is the best. The main thing is to remove the name Throop and to get attached to the Institution the name of the great state of California.” Two months later, the trustees followed Noyes’ advice, more or less, adopting the name California Institute of Technology.

During that first visit as faculty, Noyes brought along his former student Charles Lalor Burdick from MIT. Burdick had also studied in Germany, where he had travelled in July 1914, the month World War I began, on the last regular German ship to sail from New York to Hamburg. As he completed his PhD, Burdick worked alongside “then two young, comparatively unknowns by the names of [Otto] Hahn and [Lise] Meitner,” who later discovered nuclear fission. He then conducted postdoctoral research with Fritz Haber, famous for his work on the Haber-Bosch process for nitrogen fixation in order to synthesize ammonia, which made possible the production of synthetic fertilizer and explosives. Haber would become equally famous for the poison gas he developed during World War I; Burdick seems to have worked on more basic research in physical chemistry, but was part of Haber’s lab during the same period of time. Burdick also attended lectures by physicists Max Planck and Albert Einstein.

Then, in early 1916, at the advice of Noyes, Burdick moved on London to work with William Henry Bragg. “Noyes expressed his strong belief,” wrote Burdick, “in the importance of x-ray atomic structure analysis for the future of theoretical chemistry, and his wish to get something of the kind started at MIT. It was not so simple for an impecunious, young, PhD of American neutrality without connections to get from Berlin to London during the period of the Zeppelin raids and unrestricted submarine warfare, but… it was accomplished.”

Bragg and his son Lawrence had founded the field of x-ray crystallography, determining the structures of crystals by observing how they diffract x-rays. “An interesting presentation could be made,” wrote Burdick, “of the primitiveness of the equipment then available, the old-fashioned induction coil with Leyden-jar containers and a mercury interruptor, the gas-filled x-ray tubes of unpredictable and uncertain output and ‘hardness,’ and gold-leaf electroscopes with the strangest static aberrations when it came to measuring ionization intensities.” Burdick spent six months in London, then returned to MIT, where Noyes asked him to build an improved x-ray spectrometer. A few months later, when Noyes brought Burdick to Throop, Burdick, Throop chemist James H. Ellis, and Pasadena instrument maker Fred Hensen built another spectrometer. “The things which made the original Caltech spectrometer probably the best of its day,” wrote Burdick, “were its high-power output and relative constancy of measured electrical energy to the tube. This gave possibilities for narrower spectrometer slits, precise angle measurement, sharp reflection peaks, and better measurement of relative reflection intensities of the spectral orders than had probably ever been made before.”

The US entered World War I in April 1917, redirecting research towards the war effort. Hale had recently founded the National Research Council for precisely this purpose, and Noyes served as chairman of both the Council itself and its Sub-Committee on Nitrates and Ammonia, among many other administrative appointments. Now on the other side of the war from his advisor Haber, Burdick worked on a problem Haber had tackled earlier, nitrogen fixation, for the US Ordnance Reserve.

After the war, Throop chemists returned to x-ray crystallography, which dominated chemistry research here for several years. In 1920, the newly-renamed Caltech awarded its first PhD to a student of Noyes, Roscoe Dickinson, for using x-ray crystallography to determine the structures of wulfenite, scheelite, sodium chlorate, and sodium bromate. “By the end of 1922,” wrote Linus Pauling later, “twenty papers had been published by members of the Division [of Chemistry and Chemical Engineering], of which fifteen were on the determination of the structure of crystals.”

Pauling himself arrived as a graduate student that fall, and began studying crystal structures under the direction of Noyes and Dickinson, who remained at Caltech as a professor and became his advisor. Here you can see his glass plate x-ray diffraction photograph of nickel chlorostannate hexahydrate crystal, one of several in the Caltech Archives. And the accompanying envelope with Pauling’s notes, and the publication resulting from this research. Pauling earned his PhD for x-ray crystallography work in 1925, then spent two years in Europe studying quantum physics with scientists including Neils Bohr and Erwin Schrödinger. In 1927, he returned to Caltech as a professor and began researching the quantum mechanics of the chemical bond, work for which he won the Nobel Prize in 1954.

With additional funding from Charles and Peter Gates, Caltech expanded Gates Laboratory in 1927. Bertram Goodhue had passed away in 1924, but his associates designed an annex that originally contained a new library and additional laboratories, offices, and classrooms. The Gates Annex incorporated Byzantine, Native American, Mayan, and Spanish influences.

Gates Laboratory of Chemistry remained a hub of research and teaching until the 1971 San Fernando earthquake left it so badly damaged that all activities in the building had to be relocated. After the earthquake, Gates was slated for demolition. Instead, the Institute elected to save the laboratory for future renovation. Its interior was gutted and the walls reinforced with structural steel and gunite. The building remained empty for nearly a decade, awaiting further repair.

Then, in 1980, funding from the Ralph M. Parsons and James Irvine foundations made possible the renovations necessary to convert the former laboratory into an administrative center. The building reopened in 1983. A year later, the Los Angeles Conservancy awarded the project its Preservation Award for “leadership in restoration and adaptive reuse of the Parsons-Gates Hall of Administration.”]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="science" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[As we mentioned in our presentations two weeks ago, the Throop of the 1910s and the Caltech of the 1920s were deeply shaped by astrophysicist George Ellery Hale’s vision for the institution. Hale came to Pasadena to found and direct Mount Wilson Observatory, but had just as much influence as a trustee of the local college. Hale’s own education had been at MIT, which became a model both for what Throop should be and for what it should not. Among his instructors in 1887 was the chemist Arthur Amos Noyes, who was only two years older and had just earned his BS and MS, also from MIT. The two men became friends. At the end of the year, Noyes—like many young American scientists of his time—travelled to Germany to study for his PhD. He conducted research on the solubility of salts in the laboratory of physical chemist Wilhelm Ostwald, and earned his PhD from the University of Leipzig in 1890, the same year Hale earned his BS. Noyes returned to MIT and taught organic, analytical, and physical chemistry, publishing a textbook on each. “A characteristic of Chemical Principles was the use of problems so phrased as to lead the student to derive the basic equations,” wrote one of Noyes’ students’ students, Linus Pauling. His “books have been described as revolutionizing the teaching of analytical chemistry and physical chemistry in America.” Noyes also founded the Review of American Chemical Research, which became Chemical Abstracts. In 1904, he became the youngest president yet of the American Chemical Society. Noyes’ research, meanwhile, concerned the chemical properties of rare elements and incorporating them into chemical analysis. In 1903, Noyes founded the Research Laboratory of Physical Chemistry at MIT, which trained the first MIT students to receive PhDs. Even though he had spent his entire career there, Noyes often found himself at odds with his colleagues, particularly about pedagogy. Engineers should study physics, chemistry, and mathematics, he argued, telling a group of freshmen that without science “you would be only rule-of-thumb engineers, who could imitate, but not initiate.” Noyes and Hale also agreed that engineers should study the arts and humanities. From 1907 to 1909, Noyes served as acting president of MIT. He left the position frustrated, and Hale began wooing him to come to Throop and build a new research institute together. “If you chose,” wrote Hale, “you would be given a free hand to develop the Engineering School [or] to devote yourself entirely to chemical research, simply giving us the privilege of discussing with you the problems encountered in working out the educational scheme.” At first, Noyes declined, but in 1913 Hale sweetened the offer. If Noyes would only visit and teach for two months, wrote Hale, Throop would provide him a new laboratory building. Noyes agreed, and all that remained for Throop was to raise funds to build the laboratory. “I don’t know where this building is coming from,” Hale confessed in a letter to his wife. Trustee Charles Warner Gates, who had amassed his fortune in the Arkansas lumber industry before retiring to South Pasadena, pledged $25,000 toward the project. He soon recruited his brother and business partner Peter Goddard Gates to contribute as well. Arthur Fleming, who had donated more to Throop than anyone else, promised another $20,000 for equipment and salaries, but only on the condition that Noyes agree to resettle permanently in Pasadena. College president James A.B. Scherer, who until now had left negotiations to Hale, wired Noyes to urge him to accept the offer, calling it “Throop’s superlative opportunity.” Noyes, though, made a counteroffer. He would split his time between Throop and MIT for two years as an experiment. In 1915, the parties agreed on this arrangement. Noyes, a lifelong bachelor, would travel across the country alone by train several times over the next few years. On one visit to Throop, he addressed the school’s 91 students on his belief that science was necessary for engineering: “Industrial research is not the main research opportunity of educational institutions,” he told them. “The main field for education institutions is research in pure science itself—a study of fundamental principles and phenomena, without immediate reference to practical application.… Scientific investigation is the spring that feeds the stream of technical progress, and if the spring dries up the stream is sure to disappear.” Given the option of leaving the university, Noyes became still more assertive about his opinions at MIT as well; “I have become much more warlike,” he wrote to Hale. As we heard from Loma two weeks ago, Throop’s leaders selected Los Angeles architect Elmer Grey to design the Gates Laboratory of Chemistry. They also asked Bertram Goodhue, who they had hired to develop a campus plan for Throop, to consult, and he designed a facade in the Spanish Colonial Revival style for which he was known. On March 10, 1916, three years after it was first proposed, construction of the two-story, reinforced-concrete building began. When completed a year later, it contained, floor-by-floor, supply rooms and dedicated laboratories for technical analysis, chemical engineering, industrial chemistry, and photochemistry in the basement. The first floor contained a lecture hall, an additional supply room, and laboratories for organic and inorganic chemistry. The second floor contained a library, a shop, and additional laboratories for physical chemistry, analytical chemistry, and research. Here are some of the laboratories. “I remember very specially the aromatic smell of the Gates Laboratory,” Caltech chemist John Roberts later recalled of touring the building as a teenager. “They used to run chemistry demonstrations in the big lab, and those were absolutely fascinating. It was a marvelous thing for a young person to be exposed to that.” Noyes’ himself sometimes preferred not to leave the laboratory, and kept a cot and food in his office. The building’s exterior featured carved stone and wrought-iron trim. Here you can see Gates in the foreground with Pasadena Hall—soon renamed Throop Hall—beyond it, and the Old Dorm beyond that. The road to upper right is California Boulevard; the one the lower left is the part of San Pasqual since replaced by a path through campus. Noyes began spending a few months a year at Throop, and in 1919 he left MIT and made Pasadena his fulltime home. In Boston, Noyes was an avid sailor and named his yacht Research. In Pasadena, he bought a large touring car, a Cadillac, and invited new graduate students on camping trips in the desert. During conversations about changing Throop’s name in 1919, Noyes voiced a strong opinion: “Even more vital” than new buildings, he wrote to Scherer, “both on the financial and on the educational and research side, would be the change of its name to the California Institute of… I do not care very much what word or words are put in place of the dots. I am still inclined to think that Science and Engineering is the best. The main thing is to remove the name Throop and to get attached to the Institution the name of the great state of California.” Two months later, the trustees followed Noyes’ advice, more or less, adopting the name California Institute of Technology. During that first visit as faculty, Noyes brought along his former student Charles Lalor Burdick from MIT. Burdick had also studied in Germany, where he had travelled in July 1914, the month World War I began, on the last regular German ship to sail from New York to Hamburg. As he completed his PhD, Burdick worked alongside “then two young, comparatively unknowns by the names of [Otto] Hahn and [Lise] Meitner,” who later discovered nuclear fission. He then conducted postdoctoral research with Fritz Haber, famous for his work on the Haber-Bosch process for nitrogen fixation in order to synthesize ammonia, which made possible the production of synthetic fertilizer and explosives. Haber would become equally famous for the poison gas he developed during World War I; Burdick seems to have worked on more basic research in physical chemistry, but was part of Haber’s lab during the same period of time. Burdick also attended lectures by physicists Max Planck and Albert Einstein. Then, in early 1916, at the advice of Noyes, Burdick moved on London to work with William Henry Bragg. “Noyes expressed his strong belief,” wrote Burdick, “in the importance of x-ray atomic structure analysis for the future of theoretical chemistry, and his wish to get something of the kind started at MIT. It was not so simple for an impecunious, young, PhD of American neutrality without connections to get from Berlin to London during the period of the Zeppelin raids and unrestricted submarine warfare, but… it was accomplished.” Bragg and his son Lawrence had founded the field of x-ray crystallography, determining the structures of crystals by observing how they diffract x-rays. “An interesting presentation could be made,” wrote Burdick, “of the primitiveness of the equipment then available, the old-fashioned induction coil with Leyden-jar containers and a mercury interruptor, the gas-filled x-ray tubes of unpredictable and uncertain output and ‘hardness,’ and gold-leaf electroscopes with the strangest static aberrations when it came to measuring ionization intensities.” Burdick spent six months in London, then returned to MIT, where Noyes asked him to build an improved x-ray spectrometer. A few months later, when Noyes brought Burdick to Throop, Burdick, Throop chemist James H. Ellis, and Pasadena instrument maker Fred Hensen built another spectrometer. “The things which made the original Caltech spectrometer probably the best of its day,” wrote Burdick, “were its high-power output and relative constancy of measured electrical energy to the tube. This gave possibilities for narrower spectrometer slits, precise angle measurement, sharp reflection peaks, and better measurement of relative reflection intensities of the spectral orders than had probably ever been made before.” The US entered World War I in April 1917, redirecting research towards the war effort. Hale had recently founded the National Research Council for precisely this purpose, and Noyes served as chairman of both the Council itself and its Sub-Committee on Nitrates and Ammonia, among many other administrative appointments. Now on the other side of the war from his advisor Haber, Burdick worked on a problem Haber had tackled earlier, nitrogen fixation, for the US Ordnance Reserve. After the war, Throop chemists returned to x-ray crystallography, which dominated chemistry research here for several years. In 1920, the newly-renamed Caltech awarded its first PhD to a student of Noyes, Roscoe Dickinson, for using x-ray crystallography to determine the structures of wulfenite, scheelite, sodium chlorate, and sodium bromate. “By the end of 1922,” wrote Linus Pauling later, “twenty papers had been published by members of the Division [of Chemistry and Chemical Engineering], of which fifteen were on the determination of the structure of crystals.” Pauling himself arrived as a graduate student that fall, and began studying crystal structures under the direction of Noyes and Dickinson, who remained at Caltech as a professor and became his advisor. Here you can see his glass plate x-ray diffraction photograph of nickel chlorostannate hexahydrate crystal, one of several in the Caltech Archives. And the accompanying envelope with Pauling’s notes, and the publication resulting from this research. Pauling earned his PhD for x-ray crystallography work in 1925, then spent two years in Europe studying quantum physics with scientists including Neils Bohr and Erwin Schrödinger. In 1927, he returned to Caltech as a professor and began researching the quantum mechanics of the chemical bond, work for which he won the Nobel Prize in 1954. With additional funding from Charles and Peter Gates, Caltech expanded Gates Laboratory in 1927. Bertram Goodhue had passed away in 1924, but his associates designed an annex that originally contained a new library and additional laboratories, offices, and classrooms. The Gates Annex incorporated Byzantine, Native American, Mayan, and Spanish influences. Gates Laboratory of Chemistry remained a hub of research and teaching until the 1971 San Fernando earthquake left it so badly damaged that all activities in the building had to be relocated. After the earthquake, Gates was slated for demolition. Instead, the Institute elected to save the laboratory for future renovation. Its interior was gutted and the walls reinforced with structural steel and gunite. The building remained empty for nearly a decade, awaiting further repair. Then, in 1980, funding from the Ralph M. Parsons and James Irvine foundations made possible the renovations necessary to convert the former laboratory into an administrative center. The building reopened in 1983. A year later, the Los Angeles Conservancy awarded the project its Preservation Award for “leadership in restoration and adaptive reuse of the Parsons-Gates Hall of Administration.”]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Becoming Caltech, 1910–1930: Presentations from the Archives</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/becoming-caltech/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Becoming Caltech, 1910–1930: Presentations from the Archives" /><published>2020-06-11T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-06-11T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/becoming-caltech</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/becoming-caltech/"><![CDATA[A century ago, a small institution called Throop Polytechnic Institute dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. In 1920, it became the California Institute of Technology. In summer 2020, Caltech archivists gave a series of livestreamed presentations on the science, engineering, architecture, and community life of early Caltech.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="geology" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="physics" /><category term="biology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="education" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="California" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[A century ago, a small institution called Throop Polytechnic Institute dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. In 1920, it became the California Institute of Technology. In summer 2020, Caltech archivists gave a series of livestreamed presentations on the science, engineering, architecture, and community life of early Caltech.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Becoming Caltech: A Q&amp;amp;A with Caltech Archivist Peter Collopy</title><link href="https://collopy.net/discussions/2020/becoming-caltech/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Becoming Caltech: A Q&amp;amp;A with Caltech Archivist Peter Collopy" /><published>2020-04-06T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-04-06T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/discussions/2020/becoming-caltech</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/discussions/2020/becoming-caltech/"><![CDATA[**What is the scope of *Becoming Caltech*?**

In the exhibit, we focus on the transformation of the institution in two periods. The first started in the late aughts, around 1908, when there was a really deep rebuilding of the Institute from one that had tried to be many things to many people in Pasadena to one that was very specifically and narrowly an engineering school. The second period begins when that engineering school, which lasted in that form for about a decade, was successful enough that its leadership decided it could expand to be a scientific institute as well.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="discussions" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="war" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[What is the scope of Becoming Caltech? In the exhibit, we focus on the transformation of the institution in two periods. The first started in the late aughts, around 1908, when there was a really deep rebuilding of the Institute from one that had tried to be many things to many people in Pasadena to one that was very specifically and narrowly an engineering school. The second period begins when that engineering school, which lasted in that form for about a decade, was successful enough that its leadership decided it could expand to be a scientific institute as well.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Documenting the World: Film, Photography, and the Scientific Record</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2020/documenting-the-world/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Documenting the World: Film, Photography, and the Scientific Record" /><published>2020-04-01T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-04-01T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2020/documenting-the-world</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2020/documenting-the-world/"><![CDATA[Although photography and film are sometimes marginal subjects in the history of technology, the apparent dematerialization produced by digitization has prompted greater interest in materiality and technology from humanities disciplines more invested in their history. At the same time, historians of science have become increasingly attentive to visual representation and how images function as evidence.

<cite>Documenting the World</cite>’s nine contributors work mostly at the intersection of art history and history of science. The book also brings together scholarship on still photography and moving-image film, typically subjects of separate literatures despite their common materiality. With the exception of a chapter on planetary science, contributions focus on the human sciences broadly conceived, from anthropology to medicine to law.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="media" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Although photography and film are sometimes marginal subjects in the history of technology, the apparent dematerialization produced by digitization has prompted greater interest in materiality and technology from humanities disciplines more invested in their history. At the same time, historians of science have become increasingly attentive to visual representation and how images function as evidence. Documenting the World’s nine contributors work mostly at the intersection of art history and history of science. The book also brings together scholarship on still photography and moving-image film, typically subjects of separate literatures despite their common materiality. With the exception of a chapter on planetary science, contributions focus on the human sciences broadly conceived, from anthropology to medicine to law.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930</title><link href="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2020/becoming-caltech/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930" /><published>2020-02-10T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2020-02-10T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/exhibits/2020/becoming-caltech</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2020/becoming-caltech/"><![CDATA[In the 1910s and 1920s, Caltech dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. The school began building its current campus, recruited renowned faculty, constructed sophisticated laboratories, trained students to become leading researchers, and established new relationships with industry and government. On February 10, 1920, the Institute’s trustees acknowledged this transformation by changing the institution’s name from Throop College of Technology to California Institute of Technology.

A century later, the Caltech Archives presents the exhibition “Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930.” It tells the story of Caltech's early growth through historical documents, objects, photographs, and film, organized into three sections. “Becoming” traces Caltech's evolution through the reformation instigated by George Ellery Hale and catalyzed by World War I. “Building Research” chronicles both the history of science, engineering, and the humanities at Caltech—ranging from the core activities of the 1910s (electrical engineering, chemistry, and physics) to the new fields of the 1920s (genetics, seismology, and aeronautics)—and the architecture and construction of the buildings which housed this research. “Community” explores the lives and culture of the students, faculty, and staff who made up the Institute, including athletics, clubs, the Athenaeum, and the big T that students carved out of the forest on the side of Mt. Wilson.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="exhibits" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="education" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the 1910s and 1920s, Caltech dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. The school began building its current campus, recruited renowned faculty, constructed sophisticated laboratories, trained students to become leading researchers, and established new relationships with industry and government. On February 10, 1920, the Institute’s trustees acknowledged this transformation by changing the institution’s name from Throop College of Technology to California Institute of Technology. A century later, the Caltech Archives presents the exhibition “Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930.” It tells the story of Caltech’s early growth through historical documents, objects, photographs, and film, organized into three sections. “Becoming” traces Caltech’s evolution through the reformation instigated by George Ellery Hale and catalyzed by World War I. “Building Research” chronicles both the history of science, engineering, and the humanities at Caltech—ranging from the core activities of the 1910s (electrical engineering, chemistry, and physics) to the new fields of the 1920s (genetics, seismology, and aeronautics)—and the architecture and construction of the buildings which housed this research. “Community” explores the lives and culture of the students, faculty, and staff who made up the Institute, including athletics, clubs, the Athenaeum, and the big T that students carved out of the forest on the side of Mt. Wilson.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Strange Science of Astronomy: Past and Present</title><link href="https://collopy.net/discussions/2019/strange-science-of-astronomy/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Strange Science of Astronomy: Past and Present" /><published>2019-10-29T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2019-10-29T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/discussions/2019/strange-science-of-astronomy</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/discussions/2019/strange-science-of-astronomy/"><![CDATA[An esteemed panel of astronomers, historians, and engineers explore astronomy's fantastical theories and fascinating discoveries with moderator and Caltech university archivist Peter Sachs Collopy. Panelists include Tracy Drain, JPL Psyche mission deputy project systems engineer; Eun-Joo Ahn, astrophysicist and graduate student in history at UCSB; W. Patrick McCray, professor of history at UCSB; and John Mulchaey, Crawford H. Greenewalt Chair and Director of the Carnegie Observatories.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="discussions" /><category term="science" /><category term="astronomy" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[An esteemed panel of astronomers, historians, and engineers explore astronomy’s fantastical theories and fascinating discoveries with moderator and Caltech university archivist Peter Sachs Collopy. Panelists include Tracy Drain, JPL Psyche mission deputy project systems engineer; Eun-Joo Ahn, astrophysicist and graduate student in history at UCSB; W. Patrick McCray, professor of history at UCSB; and John Mulchaey, Crawford H. Greenewalt Chair and Director of the Carnegie Observatories.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Richard Feynman</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2019/richard-feynman/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Richard Feynman" /><published>2019-08-27T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2019-08-27T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2019/richard-feynman</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2019/richard-feynman/"><![CDATA[In work and play, Richard Feynman was a distinctively visual thinker. He achieved fame as a theoretical physicist by making sense of the interactions of elementary particles, and in the process inventing the Feynman diagrams that illustrated these interactions. For Feynman to do physics was to write and draw.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="physics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="visual culture" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In work and play, Richard Feynman was a distinctively visual thinker. He achieved fame as a theoretical physicist by making sense of the interactions of elementary particles, and in the process inventing the Feynman diagrams that illustrated these interactions. For Feynman to do physics was to write and draw.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Cybernetics Moment, or Why We Call Our Age the Information Age</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2019/cybernetics-moment/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Cybernetics Moment, or Why We Call Our Age the Information Age" /><published>2019-05-30T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2019-05-30T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2019/cybernetics-moment</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2019/cybernetics-moment/"><![CDATA[The historical literature on cybernetics has ballooned in the last 15 years, as scholars have sought to understand how scientists and engineers studying “control and communication in the animal and the machine” (as Norbert Weiner subtitled his book <cite>Cybernetics</cite>) contributed to Soviet and Chilean computer networks, assistive technologies for the deaf, theories of schizophrenia, and experimental music and cinema, to name just a few of their projects. This range of topics raises anew the question—central to historians’ accounts since the early 1990s—of what exactly cybernetics was. As the first book to integrate the many dimensions of cybernetics into a single narrative, <cite>The Cybernetics Moment</cite> presents a new answer to this crucial question.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="media" /><category term="computing" /><category term="cybernetics" /><category term="engineering" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The historical literature on cybernetics has ballooned in the last 15 years, as scholars have sought to understand how scientists and engineers studying “control and communication in the animal and the machine” (as Norbert Weiner subtitled his book Cybernetics) contributed to Soviet and Chilean computer networks, assistive technologies for the deaf, theories of schizophrenia, and experimental music and cinema, to name just a few of their projects. This range of topics raises anew the question—central to historians’ accounts since the early 1990s—of what exactly cybernetics was. As the first book to integrate the many dimensions of cybernetics into a single narrative, The Cybernetics Moment presents a new answer to this crucial question.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Copernicus to Feynman: Paper and Print in the Caltech Archives from 1500 to Present</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2019/copernicus-to-feynman/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Copernicus to Feynman: Paper and Print in the Caltech Archives from 1500 to Present" /><published>2019-04-11T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2019-04-11T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2019/copernicus-to-feynman</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2019/copernicus-to-feynman/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

Caltech’s Archives and Special Collections include rare books from the Scientific Revolution, the correspondence and research notes of Caltech scientists and engineers, and other records of the history of science and technology at Caltech. Our formats include film, magnetic tape, and a variety of digital media—but for this webinar we’ll be focusing on paper and print, to accompany Mark Kurlansky’s history Paper. We’ll look at some books from as early as 1502, only fifty years after the invention of movable type in Europe, including original editions of works by Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Newton. And we’ll look at modern books, from a first edition of The Origin of Species published in 1859 to works by Caltech faculty like Robert Millikan, to see how paper and printing changed as they became industrial, steam-powered operations in the 1800s. Finally, we’ll look at some of our twentieth century scientists’ papers, with an eye towards the technology of paper, typewriting, and computer printing.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="media" /><category term="technology" /><category term="science" /><category term="archives" /><category term="books" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Caltech’s Archives and Special Collections include rare books from the Scientific Revolution, the correspondence and research notes of Caltech scientists and engineers, and other records of the history of science and technology at Caltech. Our formats include film, magnetic tape, and a variety of digital media—but for this webinar we’ll be focusing on paper and print, to accompany Mark Kurlansky’s history Paper. We’ll look at some books from as early as 1502, only fifty years after the invention of movable type in Europe, including original editions of works by Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Newton. And we’ll look at modern books, from a first edition of The Origin of Species published in 1859 to works by Caltech faculty like Robert Millikan, to see how paper and printing changed as they became industrial, steam-powered operations in the 1800s. Finally, we’ll look at some of our twentieth century scientists’ papers, with an eye towards the technology of paper, typewriting, and computer printing.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Revolution Will Be Videotaped: Consciousness and Digitization in the History of Video</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2019/revolution-will-be-videotaped/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Revolution Will Be Videotaped: Consciousness and Digitization in the History of Video" /><published>2019-04-08T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2019-04-08T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2019/revolution-will-be-videotaped</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2019/revolution-will-be-videotaped/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="video" /><category term="computing" /><category term="analog/digital" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="synthesizers" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="art" /><category term="media" /><category term="technology" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="science" /><category term="psychiatry" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Caltech Archives as Modern Wunderkammer</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2018/caltech-archives-as-wunderkammer/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Caltech Archives as Modern Wunderkammer" /><published>2018-11-05T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2018-11-05T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2018/caltech-archives-as-wunderkammer</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2018/caltech-archives-as-wunderkammer/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Mind’s Eye: Richard Feynman in Word and Image</title><link href="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2018/minds-eye/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Mind’s Eye: Richard Feynman in Word and Image" /><published>2018-05-11T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2018-05-11T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/exhibits/2018/minds-eye</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2018/minds-eye/"><![CDATA[In work and play, Richard Feynman was a distinctively visual thinker. He achieved fame as a theoretical physicist by making sense of the interactions of elementary particles, and in the process inventing the Feynman diagrams that illustrated these interactions. For Feynman to do physics was to write and draw.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="exhibits" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="education" /><category term="physics" /><category term="art" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In work and play, Richard Feynman was a distinctively visual thinker. He achieved fame as a theoretical physicist by making sense of the interactions of elementary particles, and in the process inventing the Feynman diagrams that illustrated these interactions. For Feynman to do physics was to write and draw.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">History of Physics in the Caltech Archives, and Now on the Web: Hale, Glaser, and More</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2018/history-of-physics/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="History of Physics in the Caltech Archives, and Now on the Web: Hale, Glaser, and More" /><published>2018-01-01T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2018-01-01T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2018/history-of-physics</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2018/history-of-physics/"><![CDATA[The Caltech Archives is digitizing two major collections in the history of physics and astronomy, consisting of the papers of solar astronomer George Ellery Hale (1868–1938) and particle physicist Donald A. Glaser (1926–2013). We are also contributing to the history of physics through new acquisitions of Caltech scientists’ papers and a new exhibition on visual thinking in the work and life of Richard Feynman.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="physics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The Caltech Archives is digitizing two major collections in the history of physics and astronomy, consisting of the papers of solar astronomer George Ellery Hale (1868–1938) and particle physicist Donald A. Glaser (1926–2013). We are also contributing to the history of physics through new acquisitions of Caltech scientists’ papers and a new exhibition on visual thinking in the work and life of Richard Feynman.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">“Throops’s Superlative Opportunity”: The Story of the Gates Laboratory of Chemistry</title><link href="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2017/throops-superlative-opportunity/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="“Throops’s Superlative Opportunity”: The Story of the Gates Laboratory of Chemistry" /><published>2017-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2017-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/exhibits/2017/throops-superlative-opportunity</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2017/throops-superlative-opportunity/"><![CDATA[The Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, constructed in 1917 in part to persuade chemist Arthur A. Noyes to join the faculty, is Caltech’s oldest building and the first to cross the hundred-year threshold. Today, the building is the home of the Institute’s administrative offices and is called the Parsons-Gates Hall of Administration.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="exhibits" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="science" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="architecture" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, constructed in 1917 in part to persuade chemist Arthur A. Noyes to join the faculty, is Caltech’s oldest building and the first to cross the hundred-year threshold. Today, the building is the home of the Institute’s administrative offices and is called the Parsons-Gates Hall of Administration.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Building a Chemistry Division</title><link href="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2017/building-a-chemistry-division/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Building a Chemistry Division" /><published>2017-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2017-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/exhibits/2017/building-a-chemistry-division</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2017/building-a-chemistry-division/"><![CDATA[Over the century since the Gates Laboratory of Chemistry was built, Caltech’s Division of Chemistry and Chemical Engineering has grown exponentially. Here are some of the stories from that history.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="exhibits" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="science" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Over the century since the Gates Laboratory of Chemistry was built, Caltech’s Division of Chemistry and Chemical Engineering has grown exponentially. Here are some of the stories from that history.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Evolution Debates</title><link href="https://collopy.net/teaching/2017/evolution/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Evolution Debates" /><published>2017-01-09T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2017-01-09T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/teaching/2017/evolution</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/teaching/2017/evolution/"><![CDATA[<p>As the evolution of life generally and humanity in particular became scientific orthodoxy in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, scientists and other intellectuals debated what this meant. Some conceptions of God were compatible with evolution and others were not, for example, but the inverse was also true: certain conceptions of evolution were compatible with God and others were not. And at the same time, some conceptions of evolution emphasized cooperation and suggested humans would achieve the happiest lives through socialism, while others emphasized the roles of competition and “survival of the fittest” and suggested that capitalism was a better system for human achievement. Some theories of human evolution justified white supremacy, while others suggested racial equality. As a result, debates about biology were often also debates about religion and politics, and the three fields were repeatedly re-formed together.</p>
<!--more-->
<p>This is a syllabus for The Evolution Debates, a course offered for four units of credit in spring 2017 as HIST 255g at the University of Southern California. This course will explore the history of ideas about evolution and human origins from about 1800 to the present. We’ll focus on debates and controversies, both within biology and geology and at intersections of science, religion, and politics, as well as famous incidents like Charles Darwin’s voyage on the Beagle and the Scopes Monkey Trial. More broadly, we’ll study the development of evolutionary theory, the histories of creationism and theistic evolutionism, and the roles of debates about human evolution’s political consequences in the histories of eugenics and scientific racism.</p>

<p>This is a General Education course in the category of Humanistic Inquiry. We’ll use the history of evolutionary thought to understand how scientists, theologians, and others have thought about what it means to be human and to live together in organized societies—and about how we became such social animals. In the process, we’ll interpret not only scientific texts for both professional and popular audiences, but also novels, visual art, film, and works of philosophy and theology. We’ll read carefully in order both to understand how arguments work and how the ideas of evolutionary thinkers have been shaped by the particular times, places, and experiences in which they lived, as well as by changing media and systems of publishing and scientific communication.</p>

<p>The course will meet for lectures on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, 9 to 9:50, from January 9 to April 28, in Von Kleinsmid Center room 102. I will be available for office hours on Mondays from 10:00 to 12:00 in Social Sciences Building room 281, and encourage you to come by and talk.</p>

<h3>Assignments</h3>

<p>This course is organized around substantial reading assignments of primary sources, which is to say texts written by biologists, geologists, philosophers, theologians, and other participants in the evolution debates. We’ll discuss readings during <!--both lecture and discussion sections-->every class, so please read everything assigned before the class meeting it’s listed under. Each week I will expect you post a short reaction to the reading by Sunday (or by Tuesday on weeks when the class doesn’t meet on Monday) using Blackboard’s blog feature. You can use this as an opportunity to raise questions, to comment on arguments you found particularly surprising or compelling, or to suggest ways the reading might relate to previous readings or forthcoming assignments.</p>

<p>You are required to buy two books, both of which are also available at the USC Bookstore. Please buy these specific editions, so we can refer to the same page numbers and editor’s notes:</p>
<ul>
	<li><cite><a href="http://greenlion.com/books/Darwin_GC.html">Selections from Darwin’s Origin of Species: The Shape of the Argument</a></cite>, edited by Nicholas Maistrellis, Green Cat Books edition (2009).</li>
	<li>H.G. Wells, <cite><a href="https://wwnorton.com/books/9780393927948">The Time Machine</a></cite>, edited by Stephen Arata, Norton Critical Edition (2008).</li>
</ul>

<p>All other required readings for the course will be available online; for the first half of the semester, we’ll mostly be reading texts available through the web repository <a href="https://www.hathitrust.org/">HathiTrust</a> (and linked to below). When we get to more recent texts, I’ll make scanned copies of the excerpts we’re reading available to you.</p>

<p>My lectures will provide historical context for these readings, introduce you to debates between historians about their significance, and describe the roles of historical figures beyond those whose work you’re reading. You’re therefore not required to read a textbook for the course, but if you’d like one to refer to or to follow along in for an additional perspective on this history, I’ve included page numbers below for relevant sections of Peter J. Bowler, <cite><a href="https://www.ucpress.edu/books/evolution-2/paper">Evolution: The History of an Idea</a></cite>, third edition (2003), which is available from the USC Bookstore and on reserve at Leavey Library’s circulation desk, and listed with them some other books for further reading or as sources for writing papers. Two other useful reference sources will be the <cite>Dictionary of Scientific Biography</cite> and the <cite><a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/">Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy</a></cite>, each of which is useful for finding introductory information on particular scientists and philosophers and citations for books and articles that provide more detailed information.</p>

<p>Your first substantial writing assignment, due February 10, will be a paper approximately five pages long in which you develop <a href="review">your own analysis of a review of <cite>The Origin of Species</cite></a>, contextualizing it in the life of its author, with attention to their other scientific, religious, political, and philosophical interests and commitments, and in the editorial agenda of the publication in which it appears. We’ll spend some time in class looking at different ways you might find such reviews and research their authors and publications.</p>

<p>Your second writing assignment, due April 7, will be an <a href="book">online exhibit on a particular book in the evolution debates as a material text</a>. In this exhibit, you’ll demonstrate what you can learn from looking at a physical book about its intended audience and how it was meant to be read. We’ll spend some time in class in advance of this assignment thinking about books in precisely this way, and will visit the USC Libraries’ Special Collections to look at original editions of books on evolution including some of those we’ve read ourselves. You’ll also have an opportunity to present the book you’re thinking about to the class on March 3.</p>

<p>Your last essay assignment, of approximately five pages and due April 28, will be to analyze what was at stake in a particular controversy about evolution. What did the people involved care about? What did they want to persuade others of? How did they use the idea of evolution to do so?</p>

<p>Additionally, there will be a midterm exam during class on March 10 and a final exam on May 5. These exams may involve short answer questions, longer essay questions, or a combination. In any case, the purpose will be more to evaluate your understanding of how ideas about evolution and its scientific, social, and religious consequences have changed over time, and less to test your memory of specific names or dates.</p>

<p>Your grade for the course will be based 15% on each of the two essays, 15% on the online exhibit, 15% on each of the two exams, 10% on reading responses, and 15% on your engaged and insightful participation in class.</p>


<h3 id="schedule">Schedule of Class Topics and Readings</h3>

<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, January 9: What Are the Evolution Debates?</h5>
		<ul>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Peter J. Bowler, <cite>Evolution: The History of an Idea</cite>, third edition (2003), 1–26.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="stable">Is Nature Stable or Changing?</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, January 11: The Great Chain of Being and the System of Nature <!--(29 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Charles Bonnet, <cite>The Contemplation of Nature</cite> (1764), translated and abridged in John Wesley, <cite>A Survey of the Wisdom of God in the Creation</cite> (1777), <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t83j3c60t">volume 4</a>, 49–51, 58–62, 87–96.</li>
			<li>Carl Linnaeus, <cite>A General System of Nature</cite> (1735–1768), revised by Johann Friedrich Gmelin (1788–1793) and translated by William Turton (1800), <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=ncs1.ark:/13960/t1fj2zn1z">volume 1</a>, 1–11.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 48–71; Arthur O. Lovejoy, <cite><a href="http://hdl.handle.net/2027/heb.05488.0001.001">The Great Chain of Being: A Study of the History of an Idea</a></cite> (1936); Michel Foucault, <cite>The Order of Things: An Archeology of the Human Sciences</cite> (1966; 1970); Londa Schiebinger, “<a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/2166840">Why Mammals Are Called Mammals: Gender Politics in Eighteenth-Century Natural History</a>” (1993).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, January 13: Evolution in an Age of Revolutions <!--(32 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Jean-Baptiste Lamarck, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044066262601">Zoological Philosophy</a></cite> (1809), translated by Hugh Elliot (1914), 1–8, 35–46, 68–70, 106–114.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 71–95; Adrian Desmond, <cite>The Politics of Evolution: Morphology, Medicine, and Reform in Radical London</cite> (1989).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, January 16: <i>No class for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day</i></h5>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, January 18: <i>No class</i></h5>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, January 20: Natural Theology <!--(62 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Thomas Malthus, <cite><a href="https://archive.org/details/essayonprinciple00malt_1">An Essay on the Principle of Population</a></cite> (1798), 11–17, 356–371.</li>
			<li>William Paley, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uva.x001197535">Natural Theology</a></cite> (1802), 1–21, 454–459, 467–469, 473–481.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 96–106.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, January 23: Catastrophe and Uniformity <!--(39 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Georges Cuvier, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015032031943">Essay on the Theory of the Earth</a></cite> (1813), translated by Robert Kerr (1815), 5–17.</li>
			<li>Charles Lyell, <cite>Principles of Geology</cite>, <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nyp.33433066370341">volume 1</a> (1830), 1–4; <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044103125563">volume 2</a> (1832), 18–32; <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nyp.33433066370366">volume 3</a> (1833), 1–7.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 106–134; Charles Coulston Gillespie, <cite>Genesis and Geology: A Study in the Relations of Scientific Thought, Natural Theology, and Social Opinion in Great Britain, 1790–1850</cite> (1951); Martin S. Rudwick, <cite>Bursting the Limits of Time: The Reconstruction of Geohistory in the Age of Revolution</cite> (2005) and <cite>Worlds Before Adam: The Reconstruction of Geohistory in the Age of Reform</a></cite> (2008).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, January 25: Popular Evolutionism <!--(48 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Robert Chambers, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044107245359">The Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation</a></cite> (1844), 113–119, 145–147, 153–161, 174–178, and 268–291.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 134–140; James Secord, <cite>Victorian Sensation: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of <cite>Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation</cite></cite> (2000).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="darwin">Darwin and Wallace’s Answers</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, January 27: The Voyages of Charles Darwin and Alfred Russell Wallace <!--(10 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Charles Darwin, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015074623516">Journal and Remarks</a></cite> (1839), 453–457, 461–465.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 141–155; Janet Browne, <cite>Charles Darwin: Voyaging</cite> (1995).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, January 30: “One Long Argument” <!--(65 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Charles Darwin, <cite>On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection</cite> (1859), edited by Nicholas Maistrellis, Green Cat Books edition (2009), 5–7, 13–26, 31–42, 47–65, 71–77, 83–94, 99–105.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 155–176; Piers Hale, <cite>Political Descent: Malthus, Mutualism, and the Politics of Evolution in Victorian England</cite> (2014), 1–65; Janet Browne, <cite>Charles Darwin: The Power of Place</cite> (2002).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, February 1: The Reception of Darwinism</h5>
		<ul>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 177–202; Alvar Ellegård, <cite>Darwin and the General Reader: The Reception of Darwin’s Theory of Evolution in the British Periodical Press, 1859–1872</cite> (1958); David L. Hull, <cite>Darwin and His Critics: The Reception of Darwin’s Theory of Evolution by the Scientific Community</cite> (1973); <cite>The Comparative Reception of Darwinism</cite>, edited by Thomas F. Glick (1974); <cite>Disseminating Darwinism: The Role of Place, Race, Religion, and Gender</cite>, edited by Ronald L. Numbers and John Stenhouse (1999); <cite>The Reception of Charles Darwin in Europe</cite>, edited by Eve-Marie Engels and Thomas F. Glick (2008).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, February 3: <i>Introduction to Special Collections</i></h5>
		<ul>	
			<li><i>Meet in <a href="https://libraries.usc.edu/locations/special-collections">USC Special Collections</a>, Doheny Memorial Library room 206.</i></li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="atheistic">Is Darwinism Atheistic?</h4>
<ul>
	<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 202–207; James Moore, <cite>The Post-Darwinian Controversies: A Study of the Protestant Struggle to Come to Terms with Darwin in Great Britain and America, 1870–1900</cite> (1979); Jon H. Roberts, <cite>Darwinism and the Divine in America: Protestant Intellectuals and Organic Evolution, 1859–1900</cite> (1988).</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, February 6: Anti-Evolutionism <!--(24 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>	
			<li>Charles Hodge, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044019200393">What Is Darwinism?</a></cite> (1874), 1–2, 40–48, 52–53, 168–178.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, February 8: Christian Darwinism <!--(29 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>George Frederick Wright, “<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015074659486;seq=371">Concerning the True Doctrine of Final Cause or Design in Nature</a>,” <cite>Bibliotheca Sacra</cite> 34 (1877): 357–385.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, February 10: <i>The Evolution Debates in Special Collections</i></h5>
		<ul>
			<li><i>Meet in USC Special Collections.</i></li>
			<li><i>Paper due <a href="review">contextualizing a review of <cite>The Origin of Species</cite></a>.</i></li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="humans">How Did Humans Evolve?</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, February 13: Monogenism and Polygenism <!--(36 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Louis Agassiz, “<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nyp.33433081670469;seq=118">The Diversity of Origin of the Human Races</a>,” <cite>Christian Examiner</cite> 49 (1850): 110–113, 126–128, 136–138, 141–145.</li>
			<li>Frederick Douglass, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.69015000002739">The Claims of the Negro, Ethnologically Considered</a></cite> (1854), 9–10, 12–18, 34–35.</li>
			<li>Charles Darwin, <cite>The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex</cite> (1871), <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=osu.32435064734387">volume 1</a>, 9–10, 220–227.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 207–216, 292–297.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, February 15: Sexual Selection <!--(31 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Darwin, <cite>Descent of Man</cite>, <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=osu.32435064734387">volume 1</a>, 245–251, 263–266; <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.hw2p3s">volume 2</a>, 301–302, 310–314.</li>
			<li>Eliza Burt Gamble, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.rslxyf">The Evolution of Woman</a></cite> (1894), 19–31.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 313–315; Hale, <cite>Political Descent</cite>, 106–154; Cynthia Eagle Russett, <cite>Sexual Science: The Victorian Construction of Womanhood</cite> (1989); Kimberly A. Hamlin, <cite>From Eve to Evolution: Darwin, Science, and Women’s Rights in Gilded Age America</cite> (2014).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, February 17: Herbert Spencer’s Universal Evolutionism <!--(29 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Herbert Spencer, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044014674535">First Principles</a></cite> (1862), 146–174. (An earlier version of this chapter, “<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.31158008177155;seq=254">Progress: Its Law and Cause</a>,” <cite>Westminster Review</cite> 67 (1857), is also available.)</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 220–223; Mark Francis, <cite>Herbert Spencer and the Invention of Modern Life</cite> (2007); <cite>Global Spencerism: The Communication and Appropriation of a British Evolutionist</cite>, edited by Bernard Lightman (2015).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, February 20: <i>No class for Presidents Day</i></h5>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="politics">The Politics of Evolution: Competitive or Cooperative?</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, February 22: Individualism <!--(30 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Herbert Spencer, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044011566569">Social Statics</a></cite> (1851), 16–38.</li>
			<li>Herbert Spencer, <cite>The Principles of Biology</cite> (1864), <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044009912734">volume 1</a>, 443–445.</li>
			<li>Herbert Spencer, <cite>The Principles of Sociology</cite>, <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.ah5dvt">volume 3</a> (1896), 608–611.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 274–277, 298–302; Hale, <cite>Political Descent</cite>, 66–105.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, February 24: Liberalism <!--(20 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Thomas Henry Huxley, “<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=njp.32101065273508;seq=171">The Struggle for Existence: A Programme</a>,” <cite>Nineteenth Century</cite>, February 1888, 161–180.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 216–220; Hale, <cite>Political Descent</cite>, 155–221.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, February 27: Socialism <!--(25 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Peter Kropotkin, “Mutual Aid Among Animals,” <cite>Nineteenth Century</cite>, <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=njp.32101065273474;seq=351">September 1890</a>, 337–349, 354; <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=njp.32101065273474;seq=712">November 1890</a>, 709–719.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 305–307, 315–317; Hale, <cite>Political Descent</cite>, 222–251; Daniel Todes, <cite>Darwin Without Malthus: The Struggle for Existence in Russian Evolutionary Thought</cite> (1989).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, March 1: Communism <!--(26 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Lewis Henry Morgan, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044011479847">Ancient Society</a></cite> (1877), 3–18, 551–554.</li>
			<li>Frederick Engels, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015024944756">The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State</a></cite> (1884), translated by Ernest Untermann (1902), 102–103, 116–119.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 284–292.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, March 3: <i>Presentations on Special Collections</i></h5>
		<ul>
			<li><i>Meet in USC Special Collections.</i></li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="eclipse">The Eclipse of Darwinism: What Are the Mechanisms of Evolution?</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, March 6: Neo-Darwinism and Neo-Lamarckism <!--(27 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Ernst Haeckel, <cite>The History of Creation</cite> (1868), translated by Edwin Ray Lankester (1876), <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=inu.30000041570254">volume 1</a>, 280–292.</li>
			<li>Edwin Ray Lankester, <cite>Degeneration: A Chapter in Darwinism</cite> (1880), excerpted in H.G. Wells, <cite>The Time Machine</cite> (1895), edited by Stephen Arata, Norton Critical Edition (2008), 160–163.</li>
			<li>H.G. Wells, “Zoological Retrogression” (1891), excerpted in Wells, <cite>Time Machine</cite>, 133–135.</li>
			<li>August Weismann, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.hc4pef">The Germ-Plasm: A Theory of Heredity</a></cite> (1892), translated by W. Newton Parker and Harriet R&ouml;nnfeldt (1893), ix–xv.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 224–256; Hale, <cite>Political Descent</cite>, 252–353; Peter J. Bowler, <cite>The Eclipse of Darwinism: Anti-Darwinian Evolution Theories in the Decades around 1900</cite> (1983).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, March 8: “The Deathbed of Darwinism”? <!--(36 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Alexander Patterson, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015028720707">The Other Side of Evolution</a></cite> (1903), vii–xix, 120–136.</li>
			<li>Vernon Kellogg, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b572418">Darwinism To-Day</a></cite> (1907), 1–7.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Ronald L. Numbers, <cite>The Creationists: From Scientific Creationism to Intelligent Design</cite> (1992; 2006).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, March 10: <i>Midterm exam</i></h5>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>March 12–19: <i>No class for spring break</i></h5>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, March 20: Evolutionary Fiction <!--(71 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>H.G. Wells, <cite>Time Machine</cite> (1895), 1–71.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, March 22: Genetics and Eugenics <!--(27 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Francis Galton, “<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b676997;view=2up;seq=168">Hereditary Talent and Character</a>,” <cite>Macmillan’s Magazine</cite>, June 1865, 157–166.</li>
			<li>William Bateson, “<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=umn.31951d00400715m;seq=64">Problems of Heredity as a Subject for Horticultural Investigation</a>,” <cite>Journal of the Royal Horticultural Society</cite> 25 (1900): 54–61.</li>
			<li>Charles Davenport, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.hc19hh">Heredity in Relation to Eugenics</a></cite> (1911), iii–vi, 1–5.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 256–273, 307–313; Diane Paul, <cite>Controlling Human Heredity, 1865 to the Present</cite> (1995).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, March 24: <i>No class</i></h5>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, March 27: Creative Evolution <!--(55 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Henri Bergson, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044021581178">Creative Evolution</a></cite> (1907), translated by Arthur Mitchell (1911), ix–xv, 84–97, 163–165, 176–185, 251–271.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 317–322; R. C. Grogin, <cite>The Bergsonian Controversy in France, 1900–1914</cite> (1988).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, March 29: The Scopes Monkey Trial and the Revival of Creationism <!--(27 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>William Jennings Bryan, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015026299282">In His Image</a></cite> (1922), 86–94, 102–109, 122–127, 132–135.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 375–381; Numbers, <cite>Creationists</cite>; Edward J. Larson, <cite><a href="http://hdl.handle.net/2027/heb.00666.0001.001">Summer for the Gods: The Scopes Trial and America’s Continuing Debate over Science and Religion</a></cite> (1997); Adam R. Shapiro, <cite>Trying Biology: The Scopes Trial, Textbooks, and the Antievolution Movement in American Schools</cite> (2013).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="synthesis">The Evolutionary Synthesis: Is Evolution Progressive?</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, March 31: Population Genetics and the Modern Synthesis <!--(17 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>R.A. Fisher, <cite><a href="https://doi.org/10.5962/bhl.title.27468">The Genetical Theory of Natural Selection</a></cite> (1930), vii–x, 256–258.</li>
			<li>Theodosius Dobzhansky, <cite>Genetics and the Origin of Species</cite> (1937), 3–12.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 325–340; Vassiliki Betty Smokovitis, <cite>Unifying Biology: The Evolutionary Synthesis and Evolutionary Biology</cite> (1996); Robert D. Kohler, <cite>Lords of the Fly: Drosophila Genetics and the Experimental Life</cite> (1994).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, April 3: Evolutionary Progress <!--(30 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Julian Huxley, <cite>Evolution: The Modern Synthesis</cite> (1942), 556–569, 575–578.</li> <!--Pages missing from scan-->
			<li>George Gaylord Simpson, <cite>The Meaning of Evolution</cite> (1949), 240–246.</li>
			<li>George Gaylord Simpson, “<a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/40970168">The Concept of Progress in Organic Evolution</a>,” <cite>Social Research</cite> 41 (1974): 46–51.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 340–346; Michael Ruse, <cite>Monad to Man: The Concept of Progress in Evolutionary Biology</cite> (1996).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, April 5: The Teilhardian Synthesis <!--(68 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, <cite>The Phenomenon of Man</cite> (1938/1955), translated by Bernard Wall (1959), 11–14, 27–28, 180–184, 237–245, 257–272, 291–299.</li>
			<li>Peter Medawar, <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/2252158">review of <cite>The Phenomenon of Man</cite></a>, <cite>Mind</cite> 70 (1961): 99–106.</li>
			<li>Theodosius Dobzhansky, <cite>The Biology of Ultimate Concern</cite> (1967), 114–122, 133–137.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, April 7: <i>No class</i></h5>
		<ul>
			<li><i>Online exhibit due <a href="book">on an evolutionary book as a material text</a>.</i></li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, April 10: Scientific Creationism <!--(22 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>John C. Whitcomb and Henry M. Morris, <cite>The Genesis Flood</cite> (1961), xix–xxii, xxv–xxix, 63–70.</li>
			<li>Theodosius Dobzhansky, “<a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/4444260">Nothing in Biology Makes Sense Except in the Light of Evolution</a>,” <cite>American Biology Teacher</cite> 35 (1973): 125–129.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Numbers, <cite>Creationists</cite>.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, April 12: The Evolution of Human Race <!--(34 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Carleton Putnam, <cite><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.b3365886">Race and Reason: A Yankee View</a></cite> (1961), vii–viii, 1, 36–37, 40–41.</li>
			<li>Theodosius Dobzhansky, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/oxfordjournals.jhered.a107063">A Bogus ‘Science’ of Race Prejudice</a>,” <cite>Journal of Heredity</cite> 52 (1961): 189–190.</li>
			<li>Theodosius Dobzhansky, <cite>Mankind Evolving: The Evolution of the Human Species</cite> (1962), 253–257, 266–271, 285–286.</li>
			<li>Theodosius Dobzhansky, “A Debatable Account of the Origin of Races,” <cite>Scientific American</cite>, February 1963, 169–170, 172.</li>
			<li>Richard Lewontin, “The Apportionment of Human Diversity,” <cite>Evolutionary Biology</cite> 6 (1972): 381–387, 396–397.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 278–284, 302–305, 353–356; Lee D. Baker, <cite>From Savage to Negro: Anthropology and the Construction of Race, 1896–1954</cite> (1998); John P. Jackson, Jr., <cite>Science for Segregation: Race, Law, and the Case against Brown v. Board of Education</cite> (2005).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, April 14: Periodic Extinctions and Punctuated Equilibria <!--(30 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Niles Eldridge, “‘A Battle of Words,’” in <cite>The Third Culture</cite>, edited by John Brockman (1995), 120–125.</li>
			<li>Niles Eldridge and Stephen Jay Gould, “<a href="http://www.blackwellpublishing.com/ridley/classictexts/eldredge.pdf">Punctuated Equilibria: An Alternative to Phyletic Gradualism</a>,” in <cite>Models in Paleobiology</cite>, edited by Thomas J.M. Schopf (1972), 83–98, 108–115.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 347–353; David Sepkoski, <cite>Rereading the Fossil Record: The Growth of Paleobiology as an Evolutionary Discipline</cite> (2012).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>

<h4 id="adaptationism">Adaptationism: Does Natural Selection Explain All Traits?</h4>
<ul>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, April 17: Biology as an Information Science <!--(32 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>George C. Williams, “‘A Package of Information,’” in Brockman, <cite>Third Culture</cite>, 39–47.</li>
			<li>Richard Dawkins, <cite>The Selfish Gene</cite> (1976), 1–11.</li>
			<li>Richard Dawkins, “‘A Survival Machine,’” in Brockman, <cite>Third Culture</cite>, 75–86.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 356–361.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, April 19: Sociobiology <!--(22 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>E.O. Wilson, <cite>Sociobiology</cite> (1975), 3–6, 547–551, 559–565, 574–575.</li>
			<li>Sociobiology Study Group of Science for the People, “<a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/1297246">Sociobiology: Another Biological Determinism</a>,” <cite>BioScience</cite> 26 (1976): 182, 184–186.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, April 21: The Descent of Woman <!--(39 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Elaine Morgan, <cite>The Descent of Woman</cite> (1972), 1–13, 26–33.</li>
			<li>Sarah Blaffer Hrdy, <cite>The Woman That Never Evolved</cite> (1981), 1–15, 189–191.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Donna Haraway, <cite>Primate Visions: Gender, Race, and Nature in the World of Modern Science</cite> (1989); Erika Lorraine Milam, <cite>Looking for a Few Good Males: Female Choice in Evolutionary Biology</cite> (2010).</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Monday, April 24: Critiques of Adaptationism <!--(30 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Stephen Jay Gould, “‘The Pattern of Life’s History,’” in Brockman, <cite>Third Culture</cite>, 52–64.</li>
			<li>Stephen Jay Gould and Richard C. Lewontin, “<a href="http://www.blackwellpublishing.com/ridley/classictexts/gould.pdf">The Spandrels of San Marco and the Panglossian Paradigm</a>,” <cite>Proceedings of the Royal Society of London</cite> 205 (1979): 581–597.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Bowler, <cite>Evolution</cite>, 361–374.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Wednesday, April 26: The Revival of Natural Theology <!--(47 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Richard Dawkins, <cite>The Blind Watchmaker</cite> (1986), 1–9.</li>
			<li>William A. Dembski, “The Logical Underpinnings of Intelligent Design,” in <cite>Debating Design: From Darwin to DNA</cite>, edited by William A. Dembski and Michael Ruse (2004), 311–329.</li>
			<li>Michael J. Behe, “Irreducible Complexity: Obstacle to Darwinian Evolution,” in Dembski and Ruse, <cite>Debating Design</cite>, 352–355.</li>
			<li>Kenneth R. Miller, “The Flagellum Unspun: The Collapse of ‘Irreducible Complexity,’” in Dembski and Ruse, <cite>Debating Design</cite>, 81–95.</li>
			<li class="reference">Reference: Numbers, <cite>Creationists</cite>.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, April 28: Symbiogenesis <!--(41 pages)--></h5>
		<ul>
			<li>Lynn Margulis, “‘Gaia Is a Tough Bitch,’” in Brockman, <cite>Third Culture</cite>, 130–140.</li>
			<li>Lynn Margulis and Dorion Sagan, <cite>Acquiring Genomes: A Theory of the Origin of Species</cite> (2002), xi–xvi, 11–23, 51–56, 201–205.</li>
			<li><i>Paper due analyzing the stakes of a particular evolution controversy.</i></li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h5>Friday, May 5: <i>Final exam from 8:00 to 10:00</i></h5>
	</li>
</ul>]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="teaching" /><category term="biology" /><category term="religion" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="science" /><category term="Christianity" /><category term="geology" /><category term="politics" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="philosophy" /><category term="white supremacy" /><category term="anarchism" /><category term="capitalism" /><category term="communism" /><category term="conservatism" /><category term="liberalism" /><category term="eugenics" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[As the evolution of life generally and humanity in particular became scientific orthodoxy in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, scientists and other intellectuals debated what this meant. Some conceptions of God were compatible with evolution and others were not, for example, but the inverse was also true: certain conceptions of evolution were compatible with God and others were not. And at the same time, some conceptions of evolution emphasized cooperation and suggested humans would achieve the happiest lives through socialism, while others emphasized the roles of competition and “survival of the fittest” and suggested that capitalism was a better system for human achievement. Some theories of human evolution justified white supremacy, while others suggested racial equality. As a result, debates about biology were often also debates about religion and politics, and the three fields were repeatedly re-formed together.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">What Does It Mean to Say Millennials Are Having Less Sex?</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2016/millennials-having-less-sex/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="What Does It Mean to Say Millennials Are Having Less Sex?" /><published>2016-11-01T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2016-11-01T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2016/millennials-having-less-sex</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2016/millennials-having-less-sex/"><![CDATA[The internet was abuzz this August with speculation about why Millennials have less sex than our elders did at our age. Perhaps economic precarity makes dating difficult, particularly for those living with their parents. Mediating our relationships through the internet could reduce physical contact. Or maybe ubiquitous pornography is replacing partnered sex, antidepressants are depressing libidos, higher standards of consent reduce the incidence of “pressured sex,” asexual people are more comfortable in their identities, or Millennials are simply too busy for sexual relationships.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="human sciences" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The internet was abuzz this August with speculation about why Millennials have less sex than our elders did at our age. Perhaps economic precarity makes dating difficult, particularly for those living with their parents. Mediating our relationships through the internet could reduce physical contact. Or maybe ubiquitous pornography is replacing partnered sex, antidepressants are depressing libidos, higher standards of consent reduce the incidence of “pressured sex,” asexual people are more comfortable in their identities, or Millennials are simply too busy for sexual relationships.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Infolding the Self: From Video Therapy to Video Art</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2015/infolding-the-self/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Infolding the Self: From Video Therapy to Video Art" /><published>2015-11-04T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2015-11-04T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2015/infolding-the-self</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2015/infolding-the-self/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="video" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="art" /><category term="media" /><category term="technology" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="science" /><category term="psychiatry" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Revolution Will Be Videotaped: Making a Technology of Consciousness in the Long 1960s</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2015/revolution-will-be-videotaped/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Revolution Will Be Videotaped: Making a Technology of Consciousness in the Long 1960s" /><published>2015-07-13T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2015-07-13T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2015/revolution-will-be-videotaped</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2015/revolution-will-be-videotaped/"><![CDATA[In the late 1960s, video recorders became portable, leaving the television studio for the art gallery, the psychiatric hospital, and the streets. The technology of recording moving images on magnetic tape, previously of use only to broadcasters, became a tool for artistic expression, psychological experimentation, and political revolution. Video became portable not only materially but also culturally; it could be carried by an individual, but it could also be carried into institutions from the RAND Corporation to the Black Panther Party, from psychiatrists’ offices to art galleries, and from prisons to state-funded media access centers. Between 1967 and 1973, American videographers across many of these institutional contexts participated in a common discourse, sharing not only practical knowledge about the uses and maintenance of video equipment, but visions of its social significance, psychological effects, and utopian future. For many, video was a technology which would bring about a new kind of awareness, the communal consciousness that—influenced by the evolutionary philosophy of Henri Bergson—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin referred to as the noosphere and Marshall McLuhan as the global village. Experimental videographers across several fields were also influenced by the psychedelic research of the 1950s and early 1960s, by the development of cybernetics as a science of both social systems and interactions between humans and machines, by anthropology and humanistic psychology, and by revolutionary political movements in the United States and around the world.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="politics" /><category term="technology" /><category term="media" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="cybernetics" /><category term="video" /><category term="art" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="analog/digital" /><category term="synthesizers" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="war" /><category term="technopolitics" /><category term="science" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="drugs" /><category term="anthropology" /><category term="religion" /><category term="Christianity" /><category term="utopianism" /><category term="communism" /><category term="psychiatry" /><category term="fascism" /><category term="New York" /><category term="California" /><category term="biology" /><category term="philosophy" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the late 1960s, video recorders became portable, leaving the television studio for the art gallery, the psychiatric hospital, and the streets. The technology of recording moving images on magnetic tape, previously of use only to broadcasters, became a tool for artistic expression, psychological experimentation, and political revolution. Video became portable not only materially but also culturally; it could be carried by an individual, but it could also be carried into institutions from the RAND Corporation to the Black Panther Party, from psychiatrists’ offices to art galleries, and from prisons to state-funded media access centers. Between 1967 and 1973, American videographers across many of these institutional contexts participated in a common discourse, sharing not only practical knowledge about the uses and maintenance of video equipment, but visions of its social significance, psychological effects, and utopian future. For many, video was a technology which would bring about a new kind of awareness, the communal consciousness that—influenced by the evolutionary philosophy of Henri Bergson—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin referred to as the noosphere and Marshall McLuhan as the global village. Experimental videographers across several fields were also influenced by the psychedelic research of the 1950s and early 1960s, by the development of cybernetics as a science of both social systems and interactions between humans and machines, by anthropology and humanistic psychology, and by revolutionary political movements in the United States and around the world.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Race Relationships: Collegiality and Demarcation in Physical Anthropology</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2015/race-relationships/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Race Relationships: Collegiality and Demarcation in Physical Anthropology" /><published>2015-05-06T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2015-05-06T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2015/race-relationships</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2015/race-relationships/"><![CDATA[In 1962, anthropologist Carleton Coon argued in <cite>The Origin of Races</cite> that some human races had evolved further than others. Among his most vocal critics were geneticist Theodosius Dobzhansky and anthropologist Ashley Montagu, each of whom had known Coon for decades. I use this episode, and the long relationships between scientists that preceded it, to argue that scientific research on race was intertwined not only with political projects to conserve or reform race relations, but also with the relationships scientists shared as colleagues. Demarcation between science and pseudoscience, between legitimate research and scientific racism, involved emotional as well as intellectual labor.

Awarded the 2013 <a href="http://fhhs.org/awards/">Early Career Award</a> by the Forum for History of Human Science.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="biology" /><category term="anthropology" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="politics" /><category term="conservatism" /><category term="liberalism" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="white supremacy" /><category term="books" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In 1962, anthropologist Carleton Coon argued in The Origin of Races that some human races had evolved further than others. Among his most vocal critics were geneticist Theodosius Dobzhansky and anthropologist Ashley Montagu, each of whom had known Coon for decades. I use this episode, and the long relationships between scientists that preceded it, to argue that scientific research on race was intertwined not only with political projects to conserve or reform race relations, but also with the relationships scientists shared as colleagues. Demarcation between science and pseudoscience, between legitimate research and scientific racism, involved emotional as well as intellectual labor. Awarded the 2013 Early Career Award by the Forum for History of Human Science.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Emergence of Modern Science</title><link href="https://collopy.net/teaching/2012/emergence/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Emergence of Modern Science" /><published>2012-07-02T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2012-07-02T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/teaching/2012/emergence</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/teaching/2012/emergence/"><![CDATA[In this course, we will explore the lives, ideas, and influence of those who created modern science from the Renaissance to today. We will think about what problems scientific ideas solved, what made them controversial and exciting, and how they were related to contemporary art, religion, and politics. Our focus will be on the spaces in which science was done, the tools and techniques used, and the media through which it was communicated. Topics will range widely, from Newtonian mechanics to atomic weapons, from Darwin to DNA sequencing, and from an eighteenth-century defecating mechanical duck to the first twentieth-century computer game.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="teaching" /><category term="science" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In this course, we will explore the lives, ideas, and influence of those who created modern science from the Renaissance to today. We will think about what problems scientific ideas solved, what made them controversial and exciting, and how they were related to contemporary art, religion, and politics. Our focus will be on the spaces in which science was done, the tools and techniques used, and the media through which it was communicated. Topics will range widely, from Newtonian mechanics to atomic weapons, from Darwin to DNA sequencing, and from an eighteenth-century defecating mechanical duck to the first twentieth-century computer game.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">History of Cybernetics Bibliography</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2012/cybernetics-bibliography/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="History of Cybernetics Bibliography" /><published>2012-02-29T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-29T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2012/cybernetics-bibliography</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2012/cybernetics-bibliography/"><![CDATA[<p>This is a bibliography of historical and sociological works on cybernetics, a science of “control and communication in the animal and the machine” which flourished from World War II into the 1970s.</p>
<!--more-->
<p>If you’ve come here after asking yourself (or Google) what cybernetics is, I recommend starting with Bernard Geoghegan and Benjamin Peters’ entry “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118766804.wbiect041">Cybernetics</a>,” from the <cite>International Encyclopedia of Communication Theory and Philosophy</cite>, and Geoffrey Bowker’s “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/285691">How to Be Universal: Some Cybernetic Strategies, 1943–70</a>.” Ronald Kline’s <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/cybernetics-moment-or-why-we-call-our-age-the-information-age/oclc/890127838">The Cybernetics Moment</a></cite> is the synthetic history the field has been waiting for. William Aspray’s “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1109/MAHC.1985.10018">The Scientific Conceptualization of Information: A Survey</a>” places cybernetics in the context of developments in computing and information theory, while Peter Galison’s “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1343893">The Ontology of the Enemy: Norbert Wiener and the Cybernetic Vision</a>” is a classic account of the field’s military origins. The texts listed below survey the many forms cybernetics took in the decades that followed.</p>
	
<p>This bibliography is limited in three ways: It includes only books and articles which focus on cybernetics rather than the related histories of cyborgs and information theory; it includes only texts in English, though there are also substantial literatures on the subject in other languages; and it excludes articles and dissertations that have been superseded by books by the same authors. Within these limitations, I welcome references to additional books and articles. I last updated this list in April 2026.</p>

<h3 id="big">The Big Picture <small>(but mostly Anglo-American)</small></h3>
<ol class="start">
	<li>A. A. Verveen, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/0025-5564(71)90004-6">In Search of Processes: The Early History of Cybernetics</a>,” <cite>Mathematical Biosciences</cite> 11 (1971).
	<li>Michael Apter, “Cybernetics: A Case Study of a Scientific Subject-Complex,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/sociology-of-science/oclc/591825">The Sociology of Science</a></cite>, edited by Paul Halmos (University of Keele, 1972).</li>
	<li>Robert Lilienfeld, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/rise-of-systems-theory-an-ideological-analysis/oclc/3275488">The Rise of Systems Theory: An Ideological Analysis</a></cite> (Wiley, 1978).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.ics.uci.edu/~gbowker/">Geoffrey Bowker</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/285691">How to Be Universal: Some Cybernetic Strategies, 1943–70</a>,” <cite>Social Studies of Science</cite> 23 (1993).</li>
	<li><a href="http://nkhayles.com/">Katherine Hayles</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/how-we-became-posthuman-virtual-bodies-in-cybernetics-literature-and-informatics/oclc/39539341">How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics</a></cite> (University of Chicago Press, 1999).</li>
	<li>Charles Fran&ccedil;ois, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/(SICI)1099-1743(199905%2F06)16%3A3%3C203%3A%3AAID-SRES210%3E3.0.CO%3B2-1">Systemics and Cybernetics in a Historical Perspective</a>,” <cite>Systems Research and Behavioral Science</cite> 16 (1999).</li>
	<li><a href="http://sonoma.edu/hutchins/faculty/debora-hammond.html">Debora Hammond</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/science-of-synthesis-exploring-the-social-implications-of-general-systems-theory/oclc/939936819">The Science of Synthesis: Exploring the Social Implications of General Systems Theory</a></cite> (University Press of Colorado, 2003).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.ics.uci.edu/~gbowker/">Geoffrey Bowker</a>, “The Empty Archive: Cybernetics and the 1960s,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/memory-practices-in-the-sciences/oclc/60776866">Memory Practices in the Sciences</a></cite> (MIT Press, 2006).</li>
	<li><a href="http://bernardg.com/">Bernard Geoghegan</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1109/MAHC.2008.9">The Historiographic Conceptualization of Information: A Critical Survey</a>,” <cite>IEEE Annals of the History of Computing</cite> 30 (2008).</li>
	<li><a href="http://english.emory.edu/home/people/faculty/faculty_pages/johnston.html">John Johnston</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/allure-of-machinic-life-cybernetics-artificial-life-and-the-new-ai/oclc/255975196">The Allure of Machinic Life: Cybernetics, Artificial Life, and the New AI</a></cite> (MIT Press, 2008).</li>
	<li>Philipp Aumann, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1109/MAHC.2011.78">The Distinctiveness of a Unifying Science: Cybernetics’ Way to West Germany</a>” <cite>IEEE Annals of the History of Computing</cite> 33 (2011).</li>
	<li><a href="http://orithalpern.net/">Orit Halpern</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1179/0308018812Z.00000000018">Cybernetic Sense</a>,” <cite>Interdisciplinary Science Reviews</cite> 37 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://orithalpern.net/">Orit Halpern</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/beautiful-data-a-history-of-vision-and-reason-since-1945/oclc/875884461">Beautiful Data: A History of Vision and Reason since 1945</a></cite> (Duke University Press, 2014).</li>
	<li><a href="http://sts.cornell.edu/people/Kline.cfm">Ronald Kline</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/cybernetics-moment-or-why-we-call-our-age-the-information-age/oclc/890127838">The Cybernetics Moment; or, Why We Call Our Age the Information Age</a></cite> (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2015).</li>
	<li><a href="http://medientheorie.com/">Claus Pias</a>, “The Age of Cybernetics,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/cybernetics-the-macy-conferences-1946-1953-transactions/oclc/945975579">Cybernetics: The Macy Conferences, 1946–1954; The Complete Transactions</a></cite> (diaphanes, 2016).</li>
	<li><a href="https://ridt.co/">Thomas Rid</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/rise-of-the-machines-a-cybernetic-history/oclc/921868924">Rise of the Machines: A Cybernetic History</a></cite> (Norton, 2016).</li>
	<li><a href="http://bernardg.com/">Bernard Geoghegan</a> and <a href="https://petersbenjamin.wordpress.com/">Benjamin Peters</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118766804.wbiect041">Cybernetics</a>,” <cite>International Encyclopedia of Communication Theory and Philosophy</cite> (2016).</li>
	<li><a href="http://elizabethpetrick.com">Elizabeth Petrick</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0162243919881212">Building the Black Box: Cyberneticians and Complex Systems</a>,” <cite>Science, Technology, and Human Values</cite> (2019).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="origins">Origins</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li>Otto Mayr, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/origins-of-feedback-control/oclc/102836">The Origins of Feedback Control</a></cite> (MIT Press, 1970).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.ischool.utexas.edu/~bill/">William Aspray</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1109/MAHC.1985.10018">The Scientific Conceptualization of Information: A Survey</a>,” <cite>IEEE Annals of the History of Computing</cite> 7 (1985).</li>
	<li><a href="http://mindell.scripts.mit.edu/homepage/">David Mindell</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/between-human-and-machine-feedback-control-and-computing-before-cybernetics/oclc/51493422">Between Human and Machine: Feedback, Control, and Computing before Cybernetics</a></cite> (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="us">United States</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://galison.scholar.harvard.edu/">Peter Galison</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20027476">The Americanization of Unity</a>,” <cite>Daedalus</cite> 127 (1998).</li>
	<li>Peter Krieg, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1108/03684920510581729">The Human Face of Cybernetics: Heinz von Foerster and the History of a Movement That Failed</a>,” <cite>Kybernetes</cite> 34 (2005).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.gwu.edu/~umpleby/">Stuart Umpleby</a>, “<a href="http://www.gwu.edu/~umpleby/cybernetics/2005_WAS_History_of_Cybernetics_Movement.doc">A History of the Cybernetics Movement in the United States</a>,” <cite>Journal of the Washington Academy of Sciences</cite> 91 (2005).</li>
	<li>Christopher Johnson, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/43151893">Analogue Apollo: Cybernetics and the Space Age</a>,” <cite>Paragraph</cite> 31 (2008).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="wiener">Norbert Wiener</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li>Steve Heims, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/john-von-neumann-and-norbert-wiener-from-mathematics-to-the-technologies-of-life-and-death/oclc/6304716">John von Neumann and Norbert Wiener: From Mathematics to the Technologies of Life and Death</a></cite> (MIT Press, 1982).</li>
	<li>Pesi Masani, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/norbert-wiener-1894-1964/oclc/19389460">Norbert Wiener, 1894–1964</a></cite> (Birkhauser, 1990).</li>
	<li><a href="http://galison.scholar.harvard.edu/">Peter Galison</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1343893">The Ontology of the Enemy: Norbert Wiener and the Cybernetic Vision</a>,” <cite>Critical Inquiry</cite> 21 (1994).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.unizar.es/sociocybernetics/chen/felix/">Felix Geyer</a> and Johannes van der Zouwen, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1108/03684929410068334">Norbert Wiener and the Social Sciences</a>,” <cite>Kybernetes</cite> 23 (1994).
	<li><a href="http://math.mit.edu/people/profile.php?pid=112">David Jerison</a> and <a href="http://math.mit.edu/people/profile.php?pid=268">Daniel Stroock</a>, “Norbert Wiener,” <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/legacy-of-norbert-wiener-a-centennial-symposium-in-honor-of-the-100th-anniversary-of-norbert-wieners-birth-october-8-14-1994-massachusetts-institute-of-technology-cambridge-massachusetts/oclc/36307811">The Legacy of Norbert Wiener: A Centennial Symposium</a></cite> (1997).</li>
	<li><a href="http://conwayandsiegelman.stillpointpress.net/">Flo Conway and Jim Siegelman</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/dark-hero-of-the-information-age-in-search-of-norbert-wiener-the-father-of-cybernetics/oclc/56656253">Dark Hero of the Information Age: In Search of Norbert Wiener, the Father of Cybernetics</a></cite> (Basic Books, 2004).</li>
	<li><a href="http://maramills.org/">Mara Mills</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1215/10407391-1428852">On Disability and Cybernetics: Helen Keller, Norbert Wiener, and the Hearing Glove</a>,” <cite>differences</cite> 22 (2011).</li>
	<li><a href="https://petersbenjamin.wordpress.com/">Benjamin Peters</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/19409419.2013.775544">Toward a Genealogy of a Cold War Communication Science: The Strange Loops of Leo and Norbert Wiener</a>,” <cite>Russian Journal of Communication</cite> 5 (2013).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.uni-weimar.de/de/medien/professuren/medienwissenschaft/theorie-medialer-welten/personen/schmidgen/">Henning Schmidgen</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119880662">Cybernetic Times: Norbert Wiener, John Stroud, and the ‘Brain Clock’ Hypothesis</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="ussr">Soviet and Comparative Studies</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="https://profiles.stanford.edu/david-holloway">David Holloway</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/284545">Innovation in Science—The Case of Cybernetics in the Soviet Union</a>,” <cite>Science Studies</cite> 4 (1974).</li>
	<li>Peter Elias, “The Rise and Fall of Cybernetics in the US and the USSR,” <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/legacy-of-norbert-wiener-a-centennial-symposium-in-honor-of-the-100th-anniversary-of-norbert-wieners-birth-october-8-14-1994-massachusetts-institute-of-technology-cambridge-massachusetts/oclc/36307811">The Legacy of Norbert Wiener: A Centennial Symposium</a></cite> (1997).</li>
	<li><a href="http://web.mit.edu/slava/homepage/">Slava Gerovitch</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/from-newspeak-to-cyberspeak-a-history-of-soviet-cybernetics/oclc/48477582">From Newspeak to Cyberspeak: A History of Soviet Cybernetics</a></cite> (MIT Press, 2002).</li>
	<li><a href="http://mindell.scripts.mit.edu/homepage/">David Mindell</a>, <a href="http://jerome-segal.de/">J&eacute;r&ocirc;me Segal</a>, and <a href="http://web.mit.edu/slava/homepage/">Slava Gerovitch</a>, “From Communications Engineering to Communications Science: Cybernetics and Information Theory in the United States, France, and the Soviet Union,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/science-and-ideology-a-comparative-history/oclc/49395331">Science and Ideology: A Comparative History</a></cite>, edited by Mark Walker (Routledge, 2003).</li>
	<li><a href="https://petersbenjamin.wordpress.com/">Benjamin Peters</a>, “<a href="http://ijoc.org/ojs/index.php/ijoc/article/view/212">Betrothal and Betrayal: The Soviet Translation of Norbert Wiener’s Early Cybernetics</a>,” <cite>International Journal of Communications</cite> 2 (2008).</li>
	<li><a href="https://petersbenjamin.wordpress.com/">Benjamin Peters</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/how-not-to-network-a-nation-the-uneasy-history-of-the-soviet-internet/oclc/927438758">How Not to Network a Nation: The Uneasy History of the Soviet Internet</a></cite> (MIT Press, 2016).</li>
	<li><a href="https://slavic.columbia.edu/content/adam-e-leeds">Adam Leeds</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/26413630">Dreams in Cybernetic Fugue: Cold War Technoscience, the Intelligentsia, and the Birth of Soviet Mathematical Economics</a>,” <cite>Historical Studies in the Natural Sciences</cite> 46 (2016).</li>
	<li><a href="https://cla.auburn.edu/history/people/faculty/instructors/diana-kurkovsky-west/">Diana Kurkovsky West</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119886520">Cybernetics for the Command Economy: Foregrounding Entropy in Late Soviet Planning</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li><a href="https://sites.lafayette.edu/sanbornj/">Joshua Sanborn</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/kri.2022.0044">Cybernetics and Surveillance: The Secret Police Enter the Computer Age</a>,” <cite>Kritika</cite> 23 (2022).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="france">France and “French Theory”</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://socio.umontreal.ca/repertoire-departement/vue/lafontaine-celine/">C&eacute;line Lafontaine</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0263276407084637">The Cybernetic Matrix of ‘French Theory,’</a>” <cite>Theory, Culture &amp; Society</cite> 24 (2007).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.columbia.edu/~ll2410/">Lydia Liu</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/648527">The Cybernetic Unconscious: Rethinking Lacan, Poe, and French Theory</a>,” <cite>Critical Inquiry</cite> 36 (2010).</li>
	<li><a href="https://history.cornell.edu/jacob-krell">Jacob Krell</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119886988">What is the ‘Cybernetic’ in the ‘History of Cybernetics’? A French Case, 1968 to the Present</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.sowi.hu-berlin.de/en/lehrbereiche-en/general-sociology/team/vincent-august/index">Vincent August</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/1368431021991046">Network Concepts in Social Theory: Foucault and Cybernetics</a>,” <cite>European Journal of Social Theory</cite> 24 (2021).</li>
	<li><a href="http://bernardg.com/">Bernard Geoghegan</a>, <cite><a href="https://search.worldcat.org/title/1346150607">Code: From Information Theory to French Theory</a></cite> (Duke University Press, 2023)</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="chile">Chile</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="https://edenmedina.mit.edu/">Eden Medina</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/cybernetic-revolutionaries-technology-and-politics-in-allendes-chile/oclc/713834502">Cybernetic Revolutionaries: Technology and Politics in Allende’s Chile</a></cite> (MIT Press, 2011).</li>
	<li><a href="https://airandspace.si.edu/people/staff/martin-collins">Martin Collins</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/07341512.2013.776857">introduction to forum on <cite>Cybernetic Revolutionaries</cite></a>, <cite>History and Technology</cite> 28 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="https://usnwc.edu/Faculty-and-Departments/Directory/Michael-Aaron-Dennis">Michael Dennis</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/07341512.2012.756240">Scientific and Technical Knowledge and the Making of Political Order</a>,” <cite>History and Technology</cite> 28 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://sts.cornell.edu/people/Kline.cfm">Ronald Kline</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/07341512.2012.756239">Beyond the Closed World</a>,” <cite>History and Technology</cite> 28 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="https://drexel.edu/coas/faculty-research/faculty-directory/TiagoSaraiva/">Tiago Saraiva</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/07341512.2012.756238">The History of Cybernetics in McOndo</a>,” <cite>History and Technology</cite> 28 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="https://edenmedina.mit.edu/">Eden Medina</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/07341512.2012.756237">author response to forum on <cite>Cybernetic Revolutionaries</cite></a>, <cite>History and Technology</cite> 28 (2012).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="biology">Biology</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://people.ucsc.edu/~haraway/">Donna Haraway</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1215/01636545-1979-20-206">The Biological Enterprise: Sex, Mind, and Profit from Human Engineering to Sociobiology</a>,” <cite>Radical History Review</cite> no. 20 (1979).</li>
	<li><a href="http://people.ucsc.edu/~haraway/">Donna Haraway</a>, “The High Cost of Information in Post World War II Evolutionary Biology: Ergonomics, Semiotics, and the Sociobiology of Communications Systems,” <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/philosophical-forum/oclc/1787155">Philosophical Forum</a></cite> 13 (1981–2).</li>
	<li><a href="http://people.ucsc.edu/~haraway/">Donna Haraway</a>, “Signs of Dominance: From a Physiology to a Cybernetics of Primate Society, C.R. Carpenter, 1930–1970,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/studies-in-history-of-biology/oclc/2957828">Studies in History of Biology</a></cite> 6, edited by William Coleman and Camille Limoges (Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983).</li>
	<li><a href="http://people.ucsc.edu/~haraway/">Donna Haraway</a>, “A Semiotics of the Naturalistic Field, from C.R. Carpenter to S.A. Altmann, 1930–55,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/primate-visions-gender-race-and-nature-in-the-world-of-modern-science/oclc/19672184">Primate Visions: Gender, Race, and Nature in the World of Modern Science</a></cite> (Routledge, 1989).</li>
	<li><a href="http://web.mit.edu/sts/people/keller.html">Evelyn Fox Keller</a>, “The Body of a New Machine: Situating the Organism between Telegraphs and Computers,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/refiguring-life-metaphors-of-twentieth-century-biology/oclc/31606662">Refiguring Life: Metaphors of Twentieth-Century Biology</a></cite> (Columbia University Press, 1995).</li>
	<li>Lily Kay, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/who-wrote-the-book-of-life-a-history-of-the-genetic-code/oclc/41967065">Who Wrote the Book of Life? A History of the Genetic Code</a></cite> (Stanford University Press, 2000).</li>
	<li><a href="http://web.mit.edu/sts/people/keller.html">Evelyn Fox Keller</a>, “Taming the Cybernetic Metaphor” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/making-sense-of-life-explaining-biological-development-with-models-metaphors-and-machines/oclc/48100379">Making Sense of Life: Explaining Biological Development with Models, Metaphors, and Machines</a></cite> (Harvard University Press, 2002).</li>
	<li><a href="https://sydney.edu.au/arts/history/staff/profiles/warwick.anderson.php">Warwick Anderson</a> and Ian MacKay, “The Science of Self,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/intolerant-bodies-a-short-history-of-autoimmunity/oclc/894511336">Intolerant Bodies: A Short History of Autoimmunity</a></cite> (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2014).</li>
</ol>

<h4 id="ecology">Ecology</h4>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://faculty.umb.edu/pjt/">Peter Taylor</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/4331051">Technocratic Optimism, H.T. Odum, and the Partial Transformation of Ecological Metaphor after World War II</a>,” <cite>Journal of the History of Biology</cite> 21 (1988).</li>
	<li><a href="http://host.jhu.edu/directory/sharon-kingsland/">Sharon Kingsland</a>, “Defining the Ecosystem,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/evolution-of-american-ecology-1890-2000/oclc/56982282">The Evolution of American Ecology, 1890–2000</a></cite> (John Hopkins University Press, 2005).</li>
	<li>William Bryant, “<a href="http://search.proquest.com/docview/305339541/">Whole System, Whole Earth: The Convergence of Technology and Ecology in Twentieth-Century American Culture</a>” (doctoral dissertation, University of Iowa, 2006).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.depts.ttu.edu/english/general_info/directory/faculty_profile_pages/clarke_detailed.php">Bruce Clarke</a>, “Neocybernetics of Gaia: The Emergence of Second-Order Gaia Theory,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/gaia-in-turmoil-climate-change-biodepletion-and-earth-ethics-in-an-age-of-crisis/oclc/313017382">Gaia in Turmoil: Climate Change, Biodepletion, and Earth Ethics in an Age of Crisis</a></cite>, edited by Eileen Crist and H. Bruce Rinker (MIT Press, 2010).</li>
	<li>Nancy Slack, “Good Friends: Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/g-evelyn-hutchinson-and-the-invention-of-modern-ecology/oclc/758332328">G. Evelyn Hutchinson and the Invention of Modern Ecology</a></cite> (Yale University Press, 2010).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.usf.edu/arts-sciences/departments/humanities-cultural-studies/faculty/daniel-belgrad.aspx">Daniel Belgrad</a>, <cite><a href="https://search.worldcat.org/title/1153210310">The Culture of Feedback: Ecological Thinking in ’70s America</a></cite> (University of Chicago Press, 2019).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="social">Social Sciences</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li>Steve Heims, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/cybernetics-group/oclc/23047769">Constructing a Social Science for Postwar America: The Cybernetics Group, 1946–1953</a></cite> (MIT Press, 1991).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.albany.edu/~gpr/">George Richardson</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/feedback-thought-in-social-science-and-systems-theory/oclc/22731896">Feedback Thought in Social Science and Systems Theory</a></cite> (University of Pennsylvania Press, 1991).</li>
	<li><a href="http://emsent.nl/">Esther-Mirjam Sent</a>, “<a href="http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/perspectives_on_science/v008/8.4sent.html">Herbert A. Simon as a Cyborg Scientist</a>,” <cite>Perspectives on Science</cite> 8 (2000).</li>
	<li><a href="http://reilly.nd.edu/people/reilly-fellows/philip-mirowski/">Philip Mirowski</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/machine-dreams-economics-becomes-a-cyborg-science/oclc/45636899">Machine Dreams: Economics Becomes a Cyborg Science</a></cite> (Cambridge University Press, 2001).</li>
	<li><a href="http://cas.ou.edu/hunter-heyck">Hunter Crowther-Heyck</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/herbert-a-simon-the-bounds-of-reason-in-modern-america/oclc/55511492">Herbert A. Simon: The Bounds of Reason in Modern America</a></cite> (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005).</li>
	<li><a href="http://cas.ou.edu/hunter-heyck">Hunter Heyck</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/age-of-system-understanding-the-development-of-modern-social-science/oclc/891185841">Age of System: Understanding the Development of Modern Social Science</a></cite> (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2015).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.stefanos-geroulanos.com">Stefanos Geroulanos</a> and <a href="https://leifweatherby.org/">Leif Weatherby</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119887098">“Cybernetics and the Human Sciences” special issue introduction</a>, <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li><a href="http://sts.cornell.edu/people/Kline.cfm">Ronald Kline</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119872111">How Disunity Matters to the History of Cybernetics in the Human Sciences in the United States, 1940–80</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li>Poornima Paidipaty, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/1463499619899747">‘Tortoises All the Way Down’: Geertz, Cybernetics and ‘Culture’ at the End of the Cold War</a>,” <cite>Anthropological Theory</cite> 20 (2020).</li>
</ol>

<h4 id="bateson">Gregory Bateson</h4>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://cla.umn.edu/about/directory/profile/lipse001">David Lipset</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/gregory-bateson-the-legacy-of-a-scientist/oclc/5894222">Gregory Bateson: The Legacy of a Scientist</a></cite> (Prentice Hall, 1980).</li>
	<li><a href="http://hss.sas.upenn.edu/people/tresch">John Tresch</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2783231">Heredity is an Open System: Gregory Bateson as Descendant and Ancestor</a>,” <cite>Anthropology Today</cite> 14 (1998).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.armoniedeldisordine.it/">Leone Montagnini</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1108/03684920710777522">Looking for ‘Scientific’ Social Science: The Macy Conferences on Cybernetics in Bateson’s Itinerary</a>,” <cite>Kybernetes</cite> 36 (2007).</li>
	<li>Frank Thomas, Rebekah Waits, and Gail Hartsfield, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1108/03684920710777397">The Influence of Gregory Bateson: Legacy or Vestige?</a>” <cite>Kybernetes</cite> 36 (2007).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.northeastern.edu/camd/artdesign/people/william-kaizen/">William Kaizen</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/40598913">Steps to an Ecology of Communication: <cite>Radical Software</cite>, Dan Graham, and the Legacy of Gregory Bateson</a>,” <cite>Art Journal</cite> 67 (2008).</li>
	<li><a href="http://history.ua.edu/faculty/erik-peterson/">Erik Peterson</a>, “<a href="http://etd.nd.edu/ETD-db/theses/available/etd-04132010-142514/">Finding Mind, Form, Organism, and Person in a Reductionist Age: The Challenge of Gregory Bateson and C. H. Waddington to Biological and Anthropological Orthodoxy, 1924–1980</a>” (doctoral dissertation, University of Notre Dame, 2010).</li>
	<li><a href="http://orithalpern.net/">Orit Halpern</a>, “<a href="http://sfonline.barnard.edu/feminist-media-theory/schizophrenic-techniques-cybernetics-the-human-sciences-and-the-double-bind/">Schizophrenic Techniques: Cybernetics, the Human Sciences, and the Double Bind</a>,” <cite>S&amp;F Online</cite> 10 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://laps-dept.apps01.yorku.ca/anth/faculty/emeriti/harries.html">Peter Harries-Jones</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/upside-down-gods-gregory-batesons-world-of-difference/oclc/952953457">Upside-Down Gods: Gregory Bateson’s World of Difference</a></cite> (Fordham University Press, 2016).</li>
	<li><a href="https://anthonychaney.com/">Anthony Chaney</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/runaway-gregory-bateson-the-double-bind-and-the-rise-of-ecological-consciousness/oclc/1032366653">Runaway: Gregory Bateson, the Double Bind, and the Rise of Ecological Consciousness</a></cite> (University of North Carolina Press, 2017).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="mind">Sciences of Mind</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://www.sv.uio.no/psi/personer/vit/geirki/">Geir Kirkeb&oslash;en</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/053901895034001002">From a Naked Emperor to Just Clothes: The Rise and Fall of Cybernetic Family Therapy</a>,” <cite>Social Science Information</cite> 34 (1995).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.brown.edu/Departments/CLPS/people/james-anderson">James Anderson</a> and Edward Rosenfeld, <cite><a href="https://doi.org/10.7551/mitpress/6626.001.0001">Talking Nets: An Oral History of Neural Networks</a></cite> (MIT Press, 1998).</li>
	<li><a href="https://dlcl.stanford.edu/people/jean-pierre-dupuy">Jean-Pierre Dupuy</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/mechanization-of-the-mind-on-the-origins-of-cognitive-science/oclc/44026149">The Mechanization of the Mind: The Origins of Cognitive Science</a></cite>, translated by M. B. DeBevoise (Princeton University Press, 2000).</li>
	<li>Roberto Cordeschi, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/discovery-of-the-artificial-behavior-mind-and-machines-before-and-beyond-cybernetics/oclc/49860160">The Discovery of the Artificial: Behavior, Mind and Machines Before and Beyond Cybernetics</a></cite> (Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2002).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.triuhistory.ca/tara-abraham/">Tara Abraham</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1023/A:1024147708370">From Theory to Data: Representing Neurons in the 1940s</a>,” <cite>Biology and Philosophy</cite> 18 (2003).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.triuhistory.ca/tara-abraham/">Tara Abraham</a>, “<a href="http://link.springer.com/article/10.1162/biot.2006.1.4.418">Cybernetics and Theoretical Approaches in 20th-Century Brain and Behavior Sciences</a>,” <cite>Biological Theory</cite> 1 (2006).</li>
	<li><a href="http://socialsciences.exeter.ac.uk/sociology/staff/pickering/">Andrew Pickering</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/cybernetic-brain-sketches-of-another-future/oclc/615626770">The Cybernetic Brain: Sketches of Another Future</a></cite> (University of Chicago Press, 2010).</li>
	<li><a href="http://histsci.fas.harvard.edu/people/rebecca-lemov">Rebecca Lemov</a>, “<a href="http://limn.it/running-amok-in-labyrinthine-systems-the-cyber-behaviorist-origins-of-soft-torture/">Running Amok in Labyrinthine Systems: The Cyber-Behaviorist Origins of Soft Torture</a>,” <cite>Limn</cite> 1 (2011).</li>
	<li><a href="https://vivo.brown.edu/display/dweinste">Deborah Weinstein</a>, “‘Systems Everywhere’: Schizophrenia, Cybernetics, and the Double Bind,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/pathological-family-postwar-america-and-the-rise-of-family-therapy/oclc/800721205">The Pathological Family: Postwar America and the Rise of Family Therapy</a></cite> (Cornell University Press, 2013).</li>
	<li><a href="https://mediashiga.net/">John Shiga</a>, “<a href="http://amodern.net/article/of-other-networks/">Of Other Networks: Closed-World and Green-World Networks in the Work of John C. Lilly</a>,” <cite>Amodern</cite> 2 (2013).</li>
	<li><a href="https://hps.utoronto.ca/staff/chen-pang-yeang/">Chen-Pang Yeang</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/694184">From Modernizing the Chinese Language to Information Science: Chao Yuen Ren’s Route to Cybernetics</a>,” <cite>Isis</cite> 108 (2017).</li>
	<li><a href="https://anthropology.columbia.edu/content/danielle-judith-zola-carr">Danielle Judith Zola Carr</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119874009">‘Ghastly Marionettes’ and the Political Metaphysics of Cognitive Literalism: Anti-Behaviourism, Language, and the Origins of Totalitarianism</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.christinavagt.com">Christina Vagt</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119882883">Design as Aesthetic Education: On the Politics and Aesthetics of Learning Environments</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li><a href="https://history.princeton.edu/people/katja-guenther">Katja Guenther</a>, “The Dancing Robot: Grey Walter’s Cybernetic Mirror,” in <cite><a href="https://search.worldcat.org/title/1345590894">The Mirror and the Mind: A History of Self-Recognition in the Human Sciences</a></cite> (Princeton University Press, 2022).</li>
</ol>

<h4 id="mcculloch">Warren McCulloch and Walter Pitts</h4>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://ngp.usc.edu/faculty/profile/?fid=16">Michael Arbib</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/pbm.2000.0001">Warren McCulloch’s Search for the Logic of the Nervous System</a>,” <cite>Perspectives in Biology and Medicine</cite> 43 (2000).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.psych.uic.edu/department-of-psychiatry-faculty-list/154-about-us/directory/faculty/234-neil-r-smalheiser-md-phd">Neil Smalheiser</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/pbm.2000.0009">Walter Pitts</a>,” <cite>Perspectives in Biology and Medicine</cite> 43 (2000).</li>
	<li>Lily Kay, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S0269889701000266">From Logical Neurons to Poetic Embodiments of Mind: Warren S. McCulloch’s Project in Neuroscience</a>,” <cite>Science in Context</cite> 14 (2001).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.triuhistory.ca/tara-abraham/">Tara Abraham</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/S0160-9327(03)00017-6">Integrating Mind and Brain: Warren S. McCulloch, Cerebral Localization, and Experimental Epistemology</a>,” <cite>Endeavour</cite> 27 (2003).</li>
	<li><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/kenaizawa/">Kenneth Aizawa</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1179/0308018812Z.00000000017">Warren McCulloch’s Turn to Cybernetics: What Walter Pitts Contributed</a>,” <cite>Interdisciplinary Science Reviews</cite> 37 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://users.sussex.ac.uk/~philh/">Phil Husbands</a> and <a href="http://cswww.essex.ac.uk/staff/owen/">Owen Holland</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1179/0308018812Z.00000000019">Warren McCulloch and the British Cyberneticians</a>,” <cite>Interdisciplinary Science Reviews</cite> 37 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.lancaster.ac.uk/psychology/contact-and-getting-here/people/alan-collins">Alan Collins</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1179/0308018812Z.00000000020">An Asymmetric Relationship: The Spirit of Kenneth Craik and the Work of Warren McCulloch</a>,” <cite>Interdisciplinary Science Reviews</cite> 37 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.triuhistory.ca/tara-abraham/">Tara Abraham</a>, <cite><a href="https://mitpress.mit.edu/books/rebel-genius">Rebel Genius: Warren S. McCulloch’s Transdisciplinary Life in Science</a></cite> (MIT Press, 2016).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="politics">Politics and Planning</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://pne.people.si.umich.edu/">Paul Edwards</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/closed-world-computers-and-the-politics-of-discourse-in-cold-war-america/oclc/42636403">The Closed World: Computers and the Politics of Discourse in Cold War America</a></cite> (MIT Press, 1996).</li>
	<li><a href="http://web.mit.edu/sts/people/light.html">Jennifer Light</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/from-warfare-to-welfare-defense-intellectuals-and-urban-problems-in-cold-war-america/oclc/51924188">From Warfare to Welfare: Defense Intellectuals and Urban Problems in Cold War America</a></cite> (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2003).</li>
	<li><a href="http://web.mit.edu/sts/people/light.html">Jennifer Light</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/tech.0.0007">Taking Games Seriously</a>,” <cite>Technology and Culture</cite> 49 (2008).</li>
	<li><a href="http://bbk.ac.uk/politics/our-staff/academic/antoine-bousquet">Antoine Bousquet</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/14682740701791359">Cyberneticizing the American War Machine: Science and Computers in the Cold War</a>,” <cite>Cold War History</cite> 8 (2008).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.egs.edu/faculty/brian-holmes/">Brian Holmes</a>, <cite><a href="https://brianholmes.wordpress.com/2009/01/19/book-materials/">Escape the Overcode: Activist Art in the Control Society</a></cite> (Van Abbemuseum, 2009).</li>
	<li><a href="http://geography.utoronto.ca/matt-farish-home-page/">Matthew Ferish</a>, “The Cybernetic Continent: North America as Defense Laboratory,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/contours-of-americas-cold-war/oclc/698116870">The Contours of America’s Cold War</a></cite> (University of Minnesota Press, 2010).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.democracycollaborative.org/john-duda">John Duda</a>, “<a href="https://www.lwbooks.co.uk/anarchist-studies/21-1/cybernetics-anarchism-and-self-organisation">Cybernetics, Anarchism and Self-Organisation</a>,” <cite>Anarchist Studies</cite> 21 (2013).</li>
	<li><a href="https://rhetoric.berkeley.edu/people/david-bates/">David Bates</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119864237">The Political Theology of Entropy: A Katechon for the Cybernetic Age</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.eui.eu/DepartmentsAndCentres/HistoryAndCivilization/People/Professors/Guilhot">Nicolas Guilhot</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0952695119864244">Automatic Leviathan: Cybernetics and Politics in Carl Schmitt’s Postwar Writings</a>,” <cite>History of the Human Sciences</cite> 33 (2020).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.hf.uio.no/ikos/english/people/aca/middle-east-studies/temporary/joakimp/">Joakim Parslow</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S0020743821001033">The Mechanical Atatürk: Cybernetics and State Violence in the Second Turkish Republic</a>,” <cite>International Journal of Middle East Studies</cite> 53 (2021).</li>
	<li>Thomas Swann, “<a href="https://anarchiststudies.org/acybernetics/">Anarchist Cybernetics</a>,” <cite>Perspectives in Anarchist Theory</cite> 33 (2023).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="popular">Popular Culture and Counterculture</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://homepages.rpi.edu/~eglash/eglash.htm">Ron Eglash</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/095023898335474">Cybernetics in American Youth Subculture</a>,” <cite>Cultural Studies</cite> 12 (1998).</li>
	<li><a href="http://fredturner.stanford.edu/">Fred Turner</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/from-counterculture-to-cyberculture-stewart-brand-the-whole-earth-network-and-the-rise-of-digital-utopianism/oclc/62533774">From Counterculture to Cyberculture: Stewart Brand, the Whole Earth Network, and the Rise of Digital Utopianism</a></cite> (University of Chicago Press, 2006).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.depts.ttu.edu/english/general_info/directory/faculty_profile_pages/clarke_detailed.php">Bruce Clarke</a>, “<a href="http://www.univie.ac.at/constructivism/journal/7/3/196.clarke">From Information to Cognition: The Systems Counterculture, Heinz von Foerster’s Pedagogy, and Second-Order Cybernetics</a>,” <cite>Constructivist Foundations</cite> 7 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://www.dubberly.com/about">Hugh Dubberly</a> and <a href="http://pangaro.com">Paul Pangaro</a>, “<a href="http://www.dubberly.com/articles/cybernetics-and-counterculture.html">How Cybernetics Connects Computing, Counterculture, and Design</a>,” in <cite>Hippie Modernism: The Struggle for Utopia</cite>, edited by Andrew Blauvelt (2015).</li>
</ol>

<h3 id="art">Art</h3>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://daniels.utoronto.ca/people/lobsingerm">Mary Louise Lobsinger</a>, “Cybernetic Theory and the Architecture of Performance: Cedric Price’s Fun Palace,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/anxious-modernisms-experimentation-in-postwar-architectural-culture/oclc/46929153">Anxious Modernisms: Experimentation in Postwar Architectural Culture</a></cite> (Canadian Center for Architecture, 2000).</li>
	<li><a href="http://artexetra.wordpress.com">Edward Shanken</a>, “<a href="http://artexetra.com/CyberneticsArtCultConv.pdf">Cybernetics and Art: Cultural Convergence in the 1960s</a>,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/from-energy-to-information-representation-in-science-and-technology-art-and-literature/oclc/49821329">From Energy to Information</a></cite>, edited by Bruce Clarke and Linda Henderson (Stanford University Press, 2002).</li>
	<li><a href="http://arthistory.cornell.edu/people/fernandez.cfm">Maria Fernandez</a>, “<a href="http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/leonardo/v041/41.2.fernandez.html">Gordon Pask: Cybernetic Polymath</a>,” <cite>Leonardo</cite> 41 (2008).</li>
	<li><a href="http://arthistory.cornell.edu/people/fernandez.cfm">Maria Fernandez</a>, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/40598908">Detached from HiStory: Jasia Reichardt and Cybernetic Serendipity</a>,” <cite>Art Journal</cite> 67 (2008).</li>
	<li>Etan J. Ilfeld, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1162/LEON_a_00326">Contemporary Art and Cybernetics: Waves of Cybernetic Discourse within Conceptual, Video and New Media Art</a>,” <cite>Leonardo</cite> 45 (2012).</li>
	<li><a href="http://etiennebenson.com/">Etienne Benson</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.7275/R5HT2M7T">Environment between System and Nature: Alan Sonfist and the Art of the Cybernetic Environment</a>,” <cite>communication +1</cite> 3 (2014).</li>
</ol>

<h4 id="film">Film and Video</h4>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://www.gc.cuny.edu/Page-Elements/Academics-Research-Centers-Initiatives/Doctoral-Programs/Art-History/Faculty-Bios/David-Joselit">David Joselit</a>, <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/feedback-television-against-democracy/oclc/71322293">Feedback: Television Against Democracy</a></cite> (MIT Press, 2007).</li>
	<li><a href="http://art.stonybrook.edu/faculty/zabet-patterson/">Zabet Patterson</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1162/grey.2009.1.36.36">From the Gun Controller to the Mandala: The Cybernetic Cinema of John and James Whitney</a>,” <cite>Grey Room</cite> no. 36 (2009).</li>
	<li><a href="http://film.fsu.edu/People/Administration/Dr.-Andrew-Syder">Andrew Syder</a>, “<a href="http://digitallibrary.usc.edu/cdm/compoundobject/collection/p15799coll127/id/220820/">“Shaken Out of the Ruts of Ordinary Perception”: Vision, Culture and Technology in the Psychedelic Sixties</a>” (doctoral dissertation, University of Southern California, 2009).</li>
	<li><a href="http://kpaulsen.com/">Kris Paulsen</a>, “<a href="http://amodern.net/article/half-inch-revolution/">Half Inch Revolution: The Guerilla Video Tape Network</a>,” <cite>Amodern</cite> 2 (2013).</li>
	<li><a href="http://procom.ryerson.ca/people/carolyn-kane">Carolyn Kane</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1162/LEON_a_00871">The Tragedy of Radical Subjectivity: From Radical Software to Proprietary Subjects</a>,” <cite>Leonardo</cite> 47, no. 5 (2014).</li>
	<li><a href="https://collopy.net/">Peter Sachs Collopy</a>, “<a href="https://repository.upenn.edu/edissertations/1665/">The Revolution Will Be Videotaped: Making a Technology of Consciousness in the Long 1960s</a>” (doctoral dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 2015).</li>
	<li><a href="https://medienwissenschaft.philhist.unibas.ch/de/personen/ute-holl/">Ute Holl</a>, <cite><a href="http://library.oapen.org/handle/20.500.12657/31337">Cinema, Trance and Cybernetics</a></cite> (Amsterdam University Press, 2017).
</ol>

<h4 id="sound">Sound and Music</h4>
<ol class="continue">
	<li><a href="http://annenberg.usc.edu/faculty/communication/christina-dunbar-hester">Christina Dunbar-Hester</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0162243909337116">Listening to Cybernetics: Music, Machines, and Nervous Systems, 1950–1980</a>,” <cite>Science, Technology, &amp; Human Values</cite> 35 (2010).</li>
	<li><a href="http://sterneworks.org/">Jonathan Sterne</a>, “Nature Builds No Telephones” and “Perceptual Coding and the Domestication of Noise,” in <cite><a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/mp3-the-meaning-of-a-format/oclc/769429993">MP3: The Meaning of a Format</a></cite> (2013).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.birmingham.ac.uk/staff/profiles/music/haworth-christopher.aspx">Christopher Haworth</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/res.2021.2.4.461">Music and Cybernetics in Historical Perspective: Introduction to the Special Issue</a>,” <cite>Resonance</cite> 2 (2021).</li>
	<li><a href="https://deirdreloughridge.wordpress.com">Deirdre Loughridge</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/res.2021.2.4.503">Daphne Oram: Cyberneticist?</a>” <cite>Resonance</cite> 2 (2021).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.eamonnbell.com">Eamonn Bell</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/res.2021.2.4.523">Cybernetics, Listening, and Sound-Studio Phenomenotechnique in Abraham Moles’s <cite>Théorie de l’information et perception esthétique</cite> (1958)</a>,” <cite>Resonance</cite> 2 (2021).</li>
	<li><a href="https://www.claralatham.com">Clara Latham</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/res.2021.2.4.559">The Sound Machine in the Body: Cybernetics and the Theremin</a>,” <cite>Resonance</cite> 2 (2021).</li>
	<li><a href="https://music.utexas.edu/about/people/eric-drott">Eric Drott</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/res.2021.2.4.578">Music and the Cybernetic Mundane</a>,” <cite>Resonance</cite> 2 (2021).</li>
	<li><a href="http://ted-gordon.net">Theodore Gordon</a>, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/07494467.2021.2001939">‘Androgynous Music’: Pauline Oliveros’s Early Cybernetic Improvisation</a>,” <cite>Contemporary Music Review</cite> 40 (2022).</li>
</ol>]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="cybernetics" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="politics" /><category term="computing" /><category term="art" /><category term="war" /><category term="biology" /><category term="video" /><category term="media" /><category term="anthropology" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="technopolitics" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="psychiatry" /><category term="books" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[This is a bibliography of historical and sociological works on cybernetics, a science of “control and communication in the animal and the machine” which flourished from World War II into the 1970s.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">History of Science Society 2010 Annual Meeting</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2011/hss-2010/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="History of Science Society 2010 Annual Meeting" /><published>2011-11-01T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2011/hss-2010</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2011/hss-2010/"><![CDATA[The History of Science Society met this past November in Montreal for a conference that included a number of sessions touching on genetics and medicine.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="biology" /><category term="science" /><category term="evolution" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The History of Science Society met this past November in Montreal for a conference that included a number of sessions touching on genetics and medicine.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Laboratories and Managerial Science</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2010/laboratories/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Laboratories and Managerial Science" /><published>2010-05-10T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2010/laboratories</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2010/laboratories/"><![CDATA[In 2010, I took a course on “The Modern Origins of Science”—placing those origins more in the 19th century development of the industrial chemistry laboratory than in the early modern Scientific Revolution—with [Rob Kohler](https://hss.sas.upenn.edu/people/robert-e-kohler). Although Rob had officially retired, he was still teaching about one graduate seminar a year; I think this was his last. In perhaps my most institutionalist moment (and also one following in my father’s footsteps as a management scholar), I got interested in an argument Rob himself had made about the relationship between the laboratory and managerial capitalism, and also in how neglected this relationship had been by other scholars, particularly recently. “Management,” I wrote to Rob in proposing my final paper for the course, “is a critical part of laboratory practice, and this preexisting structure allowed laboratories to fit into the structure of managerial corporations (including eventually universities) without modification. The lab could in effect be black-boxed and referred to by the rest of the corporation through a director or PI. The most radical argument to draw from this might be that this facilitated the black-boxing of science as the process and product in which the laboratory was engaged, allowing managers outside the lab to see R&D as a corporate division like any other rather than dealing with research on its own terms as a technical enterprise. I'm not sure if I’ll take it as far as this last bit, though.” I indeed didn’t really get as far as this last bit, but here is what I did write.

• • •

In [an essay on the state of laboratory history](https://doi.org/10.1086/595769), Robert Kohler suggests a reason “why labs and lab science came to have such a prominent place in modern industrial corporations: the analytic categories and practices of lab science were congruent with the new managerial hierarchies and procedures of large-scale industrial capitalism, whereas those of the older shop culture were not.” Taking this assertion as a starting point, I want to argue more specifically that management itself has long been a critical component of laboratory practice, and that this preexisting social structure within laboratories facilitated their integration into managerial corporations and universities. I also want to point out that senior scientists are the default managers in laboratories, but that many managerial tasks are assigned to dedicated staff in particularly large and socially complex labs.

Management itself is a heterogenous activity which involves both planning the finances and operations of an organization and managing people, i.e. hiring and training employees and assigning them to tasks. Management thus involves a number of activities each of which are themselves complicated, but which break down into a couple of dichotomies. Managers both make decisions between known options and design previously unimagined products and corporate structures. More critically to an examination of laboratory science, they both set and communicate an agenda for an organization and administer its staff and operations.

Alfred Chandler defines managerial capitalism as a system in which critical business decisions are made by salaried managers rather than by the owners or directors of corporations. Managerial firms developed in the nineteenth century as firms managed by a family or by financiers grew. “No family or financial institution was large enough to staff the managerial hierarchies required to administer modern multiunit enterprises,” Chandler writes, but they could hire more salaried managers. As these managers developed expertise in the operations of the firm, the role of owners became limited to occasional decisions through a board of directors based on information provided primarily by managers. This analysis focuses on the agenda-setting aspect of management, although a more thorough analysis would probably reveal that managers also derive their power from their ability to build an organization around their own agenda.

Scholars of laboratories have also provided some useful background to an analysis of management in the lab. In *Laboratory Life*, Bruno Latour and Steve Woolgar depict the modern laboratory, exemplified by Roger Guillemin’s at the Salk Institute, as a manufactory for scientific papers with a marked division of labor. The laboratory does not appear to be either a factory or an administrative agency, they write, because it has substantial amounts of space dedicated to both offices, where “individuals referred to as doctors read and write,” and apparatus, where “other staff, known as technicians, spend most of their time handling equipment.” The labor of technicians leads not to tangible products but to inscriptions, especially figures and diagrams, which are passed on to “doctors”—scientists with Ph.D.s—in the office, who employ the information in writing journal articles, the final product of the laboratory. Energy, chemicals, animals, and the labor of technicians and doctors all represent inputs into a manufacturing process that culminates in these articles, texts that carry authority from their origin in the laboratory and their entanglement in a system of chemicals, organisms, and other natural objects. It’s difficult to escape the conclusion, then, that the laboratory is a factory, but one for the production of knowledge rather than tangible goods (and indeed, the authors attribute this thesis to scientists without themselves quite endorsing it).

Latour and Woolgar don’t analyze the relationship between the bench and the office in terms of power relations, or even describe whether and how doctors request information—and thus labor—from technicians. It’s not clear from their analysis who sets the research agenda or who hires whom. Outside of their discussion of the geography and labor of the laboratory, they describe lab directors as investors of social capital, relating laboratory science to business in a way that comes close to an analysis of management.

>He has sufficient capital of credibility to make unnecessary its direct investment in bench work. He is a capitalist par excellence, since he can see his capital increase substantially without having directly to engage in the work himself. His work is that of a full-time investor. Instead of producing data and making points, he tries to ensure that research is pursued in potentially rewarding areas, that credible data are produced, that the laboratory receives the largest possible share of credit, money and collaboration.

The characterization of lab director as investor is limited and imprecise, however. Investors have the option of being entirely absent from the operations of the corporation they hold shares in. Indeed, as Chandler points out, even the investors’ representatives on a board of directors have very limited power in practical terms. While a lab director can avoid “direct investment in bench work,” they cannot distance themselves from the lab entirely, as the authority of research produced in their lab derives partly from their reputation, which is transferred to it through their involvement in setting a research agenda. The director’s efforts to steer the lab in productive directions and bring in resources are a form of labor, focused on maximizing scientific productivity and reputational profit by directing workers. More than investors, lab directors are managers.

This does not mean that a single lab director must take on all the responsibilities of management, however. In [a 1970 paper](https://doi.org/10.1007/BF01553198), Gerald Swatez describes the Alvarez group, the largest research group at the Lawrence Radiation Laboratory, which had 23 Ph.D. physicists, 20 graduate students, and 161 technicians. In this massive high-energy physics laboratory there was a division of managerial labor: senior physicists provided leadership, but “administrative supervision of the entire group is done by one man, not a physicist, relieving the group leader of the task.” Furthermore, the lab employed a coordinator for each experiment, an administrator for the scanning and measuring group, “and under him there are about four supervisors, whose jobs resemble that of a foreman in industry, scheduling the use of machines, shifting users from one machine to another, seeing that the rooms are kept neat.” In the Alvarez lab, Luis Alvarez delegated administrative responsibility to full-time managers. According to Swatez, Alvarez also shared his leadership responsibility, fostering an environment in which any physicist, credentialed with a Ph.D. or a graduate student, could propose an experiment. “If a group leader definitely disapproves of the proposal,” Swatez wrote, “he has the power to say so, but in this group he does not do so if someone wants the experiment badly enough to stand up to him.” Alvarez seems to have been an unusually egalitarian and humble scientist, even apprenticing himself to two graduate students when he felt alienated from basic physics at the age of 40. The distribution of management in his lab makes visible the labor that must be done in administration and agenda-setting, whether by one scientist or by the staff of the lab collectively. Swatez’s article reveals little, however, about the management of people in the Alvarez lab.

In her more recent analysis of the social order of high energy physics in the late-twentieth-century, Sharon Traweek describes some other ways in which senior scientists serve as managers within their laboratories. “It is considered inappropriate,” she writes, “for someone over fifty to be making discoveries.” Instead, the most professionally advanced physicists administer research groups and larger laboratories.

In Japan the leader of each research group administers finances, a “highly prestigious burden of science administration [which] occupies most of the *koza* leader’s time.” In addition, the group leader finds international placements for younger physicists in his lab, rotates them among different tasks so they develop a range of scientific skills, and brings them with him to university, government, and industry meetings to familiarize them with the politics of the research community. Traweek concludes that “the leader has a generative, nurturing role,” but it would be just as apt to say that much of his work consists of fostering professional development.

In the United States, physicists manage labs more informally and leave financial management to an administrative assistant, “a managerial position almost always held by women who are not scientists and who are well versed in institutional regulations and the informal pathways through bureaucratic labyrinths.” Nonetheless, the role of a senior physicist is to “gather about him a team of gifted people whose work he directs and coordinates by means of his example, will, and—some would say—whim.” Although Traweek does not describe either Japanese or American group leaders as commanding the labor of others, it is apparent that they are engaged in management through developing the skills and organizing the labor of other scientists.

These ethnographic works suggest that administration and staff development are important aspects of laboratory practice, but they don’t say much about power relations or argue that management is a defining characteristic of a particular kind of science. In [their more historical work](https://doi.org/10.1177/00732753980360040), though, Steve Sturdy and Roger Cooter argue that laboratories played a key role in “the rise of medical corporatism,” the process by which medicine in Britain came to be “organized as a vertically integrated hierarchy of relatively specialized practitioners and animated more by a managerial concern with collective efficiency than by the pursuit of patronage or individual competitive advantage.” This new system replaced two earlier economic models for medicine: competition of individual physicians for patients, and patronage of physicians by wealthy patients. The new corporate system, which developed between 1870 and 1950, involved a greater degree of cooperation between physicians in treating patients, but also a greater degree of hierarchy within the profession. According to Sturdy and Cooter, laboratories played a critical role in the introduction of this social structure to medicine.

Laboratories entered public health, an “administrative discipline” concerned with the “surveillance and classification” of disease in populations, in the mid nineteenth century. Laboratory science offered public health administrators knowledge based “on systematic and rational investigation of the underlying causes and processes of health and disease” rather than “the narrow empiricism of clinical experience.” Unlike clinical knowledge, laboratory knowledge could be incorporated into an administrative system of expertise which public health officials had based primarily on the discipline of statistics. By abstracting away the specific characteristics of patients’ bodies and isolating specific chemical and biological processes, laboratories manufactured medical knowledge which was legible to administrators focused on the management of disease. More concretely, research on poisons and germs “soon yielded new techniques for identifying disease and its causes in the population and the environment.” Sturdy and Cooter conclude that “laboratory science actually developed as an instrument of scientific management,” in this case the management of disease in populations.

Additionally, though, laboratory science developed as a mode of scientific management. Within the walls of a laboratory, scientists themselves practiced management, which played a crucial role in the production of scientific knowledge and went on to influence the social structure of medicine.

>The laboratory sciences also provided a model of how the work of the hospitals might itself be reorganized in the interests of greater efficiency. It was common for laboratory scientists from different disciplines to collaborate in research and teaching, bringing together complementary skills and expertise to address different aspects of a particular problem. Reformers hoped that the academicization of clinical teaching and research would help to encourage similar forms of teamwork within hospital medicine.

Teamwork between scientists trained in different disciplines is an important social form for production of knowledge in laboratories, but laboratory science often involves hierarchical relationships between researchers as well. Although Sturdy and Cooter do not say so, physicians could leave their experience in laboratory research with a set of management techniques as well as a taste for collaboration, contributing to the hierarchical and managerial development of medicine.

The final argument I want to make is that when laboratories have become incorporated into other managerial organizations the accommodation between the two has been relatively straightforward since both have already had similar social structures. Laboratories have entered corporate environments at a number of times and places. In Germany laboratories were associated with industry before they became formally integrated into the operations of universities; [R. Steven Turner writes](https://doi.org/10.2307/27757508) that in the 1840s “Prussian respondents nearly always equated large laboratories and extensive practical training to technological chemistry and industrial education.” The industry in which they were integrated, though, predated managerial capitalism. Chandler doesn’t cover the German context, but these industrial firms were presumably less structurally complex than later managerial firms and had fewer divisions, suggesting that their laboratories may have been focused less on research than on chemical synthesis. This relationship between industry and universities in Prussia also suggests that the laboratory as an institution developed in German universities from industrial models, travelled to the United States with the research university, and then reentered industry in a new managerial context.

One crucial point at which research laboratories entered industry was the establishment of AT&T’s Research Branch in 1911. This division was based within the existing Western Electric Research Department, and thus within an existing corporate structure, but was devoted to research in physics leading to new repeater technologies rather than to engineering intended to optimize existing technologies. The principal actors in establishing the Research Branch were John J. Carty, a telephone engineer entirely trained on the job, and Frank Jewett, a Ph.D. physicist. Both took on managerial roles, with Jewett hiring additional scientists while Carty developed corporate research policies and “personified Bell research and engineering” to the board of directors.

Early on Jewett recruited Harold D. Arnold to serve as the physicist responsible for laboratory work on the new telephone amplifier. Within three years he had hired 25 researchers and assistants who reported to Arnold. “Jewett made occasional forays into the laboratory and sometimes even offered advice to researchers,” writes Leonard Reich, “but he acted mainly as a recruiter of personnel, a synthesizer of information, a coordinator with other branches of the Engineering Department, and a conduit to Carty and the AT&T staff.” Like the senior scientists Traweek describes, Jewitt facilitated research more than he participated in it, devoting most of his time to managing people and information. As the person at the top of the Research Branch hierarchy, he also became the representative of his division to the rest of the company. The laboratory borrowed conventions from universities, going so far as to sponsor conferences, but the existing laboratory model of the senior scientist as manager facilitated the integration of the laboratory into the hierarchically organized corporation. When the Bell Telephone Laboratories became a separate corporation in 1925, Jewett became president, responsible for managing the labor of 3600 employees.

One important reason why a physicist like Jewett was able to take on the presidency of such a large organization was that he had been a manager throughout his career. The practice of laboratory research in which Jewett had been trained involved the labor of graduate students and technicians, and it was the responsibility of the credentialed scientist to guide this labor toward productive ends. Managing Bell Labs as president was different from running a lab at the University of Chicago or MIT, but it was different primarily in scale. A senior scientist, regardless of his institutional location, was responsible for such tasks as staff development, communicating with funders, and setting a research agenda, and this was no different within a firm such as AT&T. Furthermore, at AT&T research managers such as Carty and Jewett were able to represent their laboratories to the corporation in the same way that a lab director in a university or institute represents their laboratory to their colleagues and the public, and thus to take their place within an existing corporate hierarchy.

### Works Cited
- Alfred D. Chandler, Jr., “The United States: Seedbed of Managerial Capitalism,” in *Managerial Hierarchies: Comparative Perspectives on the Rise of the Modern Industrial Enterprise*, edited by Alfred D. Chandler, Jr. and Herman Daems (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1980).
- Robert E. Kohler, “[Lab History: Reflections](https://doi.org/10.1086/595769),” *Isis* 99 (2008).
- Bruno Latour and Steve Woolgar, *Laboratory Life: The Construction of Scientific Facts*, second edition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986).
- Leonard S. Reich, *The Making of American Industrial Research: Science and Business at GE and Bell, 1876–1926* (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985).
- Steve Sturdy and Roger Cooter, “[Science, Scientific Management, and the Transformation of Medicine in Britain, c. 1870–1950](https://doi.org/10.1177/00732753980360040),” *History of Science* 36 (1998).
- Gerald M. Swatez, “[The Social Organization of a University Laboratory](https://doi.org/10.1007/BF01553198),” *Minerva* 8 (1970).
- Sharon Traweek, *Beamtimes and Lifetimes: The World of High Energy Physicists* (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1988).
- R. Steven Turner, “[Justus Liebig versus Prussian Chemistry: Reflection on Early Institute-Building in Germany](https://doi.org/10.2307/27757508),” *Historical Studies in the Physical Sciences* 13 (1982): 137.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="capitalism" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In 2010, I took a course on “The Modern Origins of Science”—placing those origins more in the 19th century development of the industrial chemistry laboratory than in the early modern Scientific Revolution—with Rob Kohler. Although Rob had officially retired, he was still teaching about one graduate seminar a year; I think this was his last. In perhaps my most institutionalist moment (and also one following in my father’s footsteps as a management scholar), I got interested in an argument Rob himself had made about the relationship between the laboratory and managerial capitalism, and also in how neglected this relationship had been by other scholars, particularly recently. “Management,” I wrote to Rob in proposing my final paper for the course, “is a critical part of laboratory practice, and this preexisting structure allowed laboratories to fit into the structure of managerial corporations (including eventually universities) without modification. The lab could in effect be black-boxed and referred to by the rest of the corporation through a director or PI. The most radical argument to draw from this might be that this facilitated the black-boxing of science as the process and product in which the laboratory was engaged, allowing managers outside the lab to see R&amp;D as a corporate division like any other rather than dealing with research on its own terms as a technical enterprise. I’m not sure if I’ll take it as far as this last bit, though.” I indeed didn’t really get as far as this last bit, but here is what I did write. • • • In an essay on the state of laboratory history, Robert Kohler suggests a reason “why labs and lab science came to have such a prominent place in modern industrial corporations: the analytic categories and practices of lab science were congruent with the new managerial hierarchies and procedures of large-scale industrial capitalism, whereas those of the older shop culture were not.” Taking this assertion as a starting point, I want to argue more specifically that management itself has long been a critical component of laboratory practice, and that this preexisting social structure within laboratories facilitated their integration into managerial corporations and universities. I also want to point out that senior scientists are the default managers in laboratories, but that many managerial tasks are assigned to dedicated staff in particularly large and socially complex labs. Management itself is a heterogenous activity which involves both planning the finances and operations of an organization and managing people, i.e. hiring and training employees and assigning them to tasks. Management thus involves a number of activities each of which are themselves complicated, but which break down into a couple of dichotomies. Managers both make decisions between known options and design previously unimagined products and corporate structures. More critically to an examination of laboratory science, they both set and communicate an agenda for an organization and administer its staff and operations. Alfred Chandler defines managerial capitalism as a system in which critical business decisions are made by salaried managers rather than by the owners or directors of corporations. Managerial firms developed in the nineteenth century as firms managed by a family or by financiers grew. “No family or financial institution was large enough to staff the managerial hierarchies required to administer modern multiunit enterprises,” Chandler writes, but they could hire more salaried managers. As these managers developed expertise in the operations of the firm, the role of owners became limited to occasional decisions through a board of directors based on information provided primarily by managers. This analysis focuses on the agenda-setting aspect of management, although a more thorough analysis would probably reveal that managers also derive their power from their ability to build an organization around their own agenda. Scholars of laboratories have also provided some useful background to an analysis of management in the lab. In Laboratory Life, Bruno Latour and Steve Woolgar depict the modern laboratory, exemplified by Roger Guillemin’s at the Salk Institute, as a manufactory for scientific papers with a marked division of labor. The laboratory does not appear to be either a factory or an administrative agency, they write, because it has substantial amounts of space dedicated to both offices, where “individuals referred to as doctors read and write,” and apparatus, where “other staff, known as technicians, spend most of their time handling equipment.” The labor of technicians leads not to tangible products but to inscriptions, especially figures and diagrams, which are passed on to “doctors”—scientists with Ph.D.s—in the office, who employ the information in writing journal articles, the final product of the laboratory. Energy, chemicals, animals, and the labor of technicians and doctors all represent inputs into a manufacturing process that culminates in these articles, texts that carry authority from their origin in the laboratory and their entanglement in a system of chemicals, organisms, and other natural objects. It’s difficult to escape the conclusion, then, that the laboratory is a factory, but one for the production of knowledge rather than tangible goods (and indeed, the authors attribute this thesis to scientists without themselves quite endorsing it). Latour and Woolgar don’t analyze the relationship between the bench and the office in terms of power relations, or even describe whether and how doctors request information—and thus labor—from technicians. It’s not clear from their analysis who sets the research agenda or who hires whom. Outside of their discussion of the geography and labor of the laboratory, they describe lab directors as investors of social capital, relating laboratory science to business in a way that comes close to an analysis of management. He has sufficient capital of credibility to make unnecessary its direct investment in bench work. He is a capitalist par excellence, since he can see his capital increase substantially without having directly to engage in the work himself. His work is that of a full-time investor. Instead of producing data and making points, he tries to ensure that research is pursued in potentially rewarding areas, that credible data are produced, that the laboratory receives the largest possible share of credit, money and collaboration. The characterization of lab director as investor is limited and imprecise, however. Investors have the option of being entirely absent from the operations of the corporation they hold shares in. Indeed, as Chandler points out, even the investors’ representatives on a board of directors have very limited power in practical terms. While a lab director can avoid “direct investment in bench work,” they cannot distance themselves from the lab entirely, as the authority of research produced in their lab derives partly from their reputation, which is transferred to it through their involvement in setting a research agenda. The director’s efforts to steer the lab in productive directions and bring in resources are a form of labor, focused on maximizing scientific productivity and reputational profit by directing workers. More than investors, lab directors are managers. This does not mean that a single lab director must take on all the responsibilities of management, however. In a 1970 paper, Gerald Swatez describes the Alvarez group, the largest research group at the Lawrence Radiation Laboratory, which had 23 Ph.D. physicists, 20 graduate students, and 161 technicians. In this massive high-energy physics laboratory there was a division of managerial labor: senior physicists provided leadership, but “administrative supervision of the entire group is done by one man, not a physicist, relieving the group leader of the task.” Furthermore, the lab employed a coordinator for each experiment, an administrator for the scanning and measuring group, “and under him there are about four supervisors, whose jobs resemble that of a foreman in industry, scheduling the use of machines, shifting users from one machine to another, seeing that the rooms are kept neat.” In the Alvarez lab, Luis Alvarez delegated administrative responsibility to full-time managers. According to Swatez, Alvarez also shared his leadership responsibility, fostering an environment in which any physicist, credentialed with a Ph.D. or a graduate student, could propose an experiment. “If a group leader definitely disapproves of the proposal,” Swatez wrote, “he has the power to say so, but in this group he does not do so if someone wants the experiment badly enough to stand up to him.” Alvarez seems to have been an unusually egalitarian and humble scientist, even apprenticing himself to two graduate students when he felt alienated from basic physics at the age of 40. The distribution of management in his lab makes visible the labor that must be done in administration and agenda-setting, whether by one scientist or by the staff of the lab collectively. Swatez’s article reveals little, however, about the management of people in the Alvarez lab. In her more recent analysis of the social order of high energy physics in the late-twentieth-century, Sharon Traweek describes some other ways in which senior scientists serve as managers within their laboratories. “It is considered inappropriate,” she writes, “for someone over fifty to be making discoveries.” Instead, the most professionally advanced physicists administer research groups and larger laboratories. In Japan the leader of each research group administers finances, a “highly prestigious burden of science administration [which] occupies most of the koza leader’s time.” In addition, the group leader finds international placements for younger physicists in his lab, rotates them among different tasks so they develop a range of scientific skills, and brings them with him to university, government, and industry meetings to familiarize them with the politics of the research community. Traweek concludes that “the leader has a generative, nurturing role,” but it would be just as apt to say that much of his work consists of fostering professional development. In the United States, physicists manage labs more informally and leave financial management to an administrative assistant, “a managerial position almost always held by women who are not scientists and who are well versed in institutional regulations and the informal pathways through bureaucratic labyrinths.” Nonetheless, the role of a senior physicist is to “gather about him a team of gifted people whose work he directs and coordinates by means of his example, will, and—some would say—whim.” Although Traweek does not describe either Japanese or American group leaders as commanding the labor of others, it is apparent that they are engaged in management through developing the skills and organizing the labor of other scientists. These ethnographic works suggest that administration and staff development are important aspects of laboratory practice, but they don’t say much about power relations or argue that management is a defining characteristic of a particular kind of science. In their more historical work, though, Steve Sturdy and Roger Cooter argue that laboratories played a key role in “the rise of medical corporatism,” the process by which medicine in Britain came to be “organized as a vertically integrated hierarchy of relatively specialized practitioners and animated more by a managerial concern with collective efficiency than by the pursuit of patronage or individual competitive advantage.” This new system replaced two earlier economic models for medicine: competition of individual physicians for patients, and patronage of physicians by wealthy patients. The new corporate system, which developed between 1870 and 1950, involved a greater degree of cooperation between physicians in treating patients, but also a greater degree of hierarchy within the profession. According to Sturdy and Cooter, laboratories played a critical role in the introduction of this social structure to medicine. Laboratories entered public health, an “administrative discipline” concerned with the “surveillance and classification” of disease in populations, in the mid nineteenth century. Laboratory science offered public health administrators knowledge based “on systematic and rational investigation of the underlying causes and processes of health and disease” rather than “the narrow empiricism of clinical experience.” Unlike clinical knowledge, laboratory knowledge could be incorporated into an administrative system of expertise which public health officials had based primarily on the discipline of statistics. By abstracting away the specific characteristics of patients’ bodies and isolating specific chemical and biological processes, laboratories manufactured medical knowledge which was legible to administrators focused on the management of disease. More concretely, research on poisons and germs “soon yielded new techniques for identifying disease and its causes in the population and the environment.” Sturdy and Cooter conclude that “laboratory science actually developed as an instrument of scientific management,” in this case the management of disease in populations. Additionally, though, laboratory science developed as a mode of scientific management. Within the walls of a laboratory, scientists themselves practiced management, which played a crucial role in the production of scientific knowledge and went on to influence the social structure of medicine. The laboratory sciences also provided a model of how the work of the hospitals might itself be reorganized in the interests of greater efficiency. It was common for laboratory scientists from different disciplines to collaborate in research and teaching, bringing together complementary skills and expertise to address different aspects of a particular problem. Reformers hoped that the academicization of clinical teaching and research would help to encourage similar forms of teamwork within hospital medicine. Teamwork between scientists trained in different disciplines is an important social form for production of knowledge in laboratories, but laboratory science often involves hierarchical relationships between researchers as well. Although Sturdy and Cooter do not say so, physicians could leave their experience in laboratory research with a set of management techniques as well as a taste for collaboration, contributing to the hierarchical and managerial development of medicine. The final argument I want to make is that when laboratories have become incorporated into other managerial organizations the accommodation between the two has been relatively straightforward since both have already had similar social structures. Laboratories have entered corporate environments at a number of times and places. In Germany laboratories were associated with industry before they became formally integrated into the operations of universities; R. Steven Turner writes that in the 1840s “Prussian respondents nearly always equated large laboratories and extensive practical training to technological chemistry and industrial education.” The industry in which they were integrated, though, predated managerial capitalism. Chandler doesn’t cover the German context, but these industrial firms were presumably less structurally complex than later managerial firms and had fewer divisions, suggesting that their laboratories may have been focused less on research than on chemical synthesis. This relationship between industry and universities in Prussia also suggests that the laboratory as an institution developed in German universities from industrial models, travelled to the United States with the research university, and then reentered industry in a new managerial context. One crucial point at which research laboratories entered industry was the establishment of AT&amp;T’s Research Branch in 1911. This division was based within the existing Western Electric Research Department, and thus within an existing corporate structure, but was devoted to research in physics leading to new repeater technologies rather than to engineering intended to optimize existing technologies. The principal actors in establishing the Research Branch were John J. Carty, a telephone engineer entirely trained on the job, and Frank Jewett, a Ph.D. physicist. Both took on managerial roles, with Jewett hiring additional scientists while Carty developed corporate research policies and “personified Bell research and engineering” to the board of directors. Early on Jewett recruited Harold D. Arnold to serve as the physicist responsible for laboratory work on the new telephone amplifier. Within three years he had hired 25 researchers and assistants who reported to Arnold. “Jewett made occasional forays into the laboratory and sometimes even offered advice to researchers,” writes Leonard Reich, “but he acted mainly as a recruiter of personnel, a synthesizer of information, a coordinator with other branches of the Engineering Department, and a conduit to Carty and the AT&amp;T staff.” Like the senior scientists Traweek describes, Jewitt facilitated research more than he participated in it, devoting most of his time to managing people and information. As the person at the top of the Research Branch hierarchy, he also became the representative of his division to the rest of the company. The laboratory borrowed conventions from universities, going so far as to sponsor conferences, but the existing laboratory model of the senior scientist as manager facilitated the integration of the laboratory into the hierarchically organized corporation. When the Bell Telephone Laboratories became a separate corporation in 1925, Jewett became president, responsible for managing the labor of 3600 employees. One important reason why a physicist like Jewett was able to take on the presidency of such a large organization was that he had been a manager throughout his career. The practice of laboratory research in which Jewett had been trained involved the labor of graduate students and technicians, and it was the responsibility of the credentialed scientist to guide this labor toward productive ends. Managing Bell Labs as president was different from running a lab at the University of Chicago or MIT, but it was different primarily in scale. A senior scientist, regardless of his institutional location, was responsible for such tasks as staff development, communicating with funders, and setting a research agenda, and this was no different within a firm such as AT&amp;T. Furthermore, at AT&amp;T research managers such as Carty and Jewett were able to represent their laboratories to the corporation in the same way that a lab director in a university or institute represents their laboratory to their colleagues and the public, and thus to take their place within an existing corporate hierarchy. Works Cited Alfred D. Chandler, Jr., “The United States: Seedbed of Managerial Capitalism,” in Managerial Hierarchies: Comparative Perspectives on the Rise of the Modern Industrial Enterprise, edited by Alfred D. Chandler, Jr. and Herman Daems (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1980). Robert E. Kohler, “Lab History: Reflections,” Isis 99 (2008). Bruno Latour and Steve Woolgar, Laboratory Life: The Construction of Scientific Facts, second edition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986). Leonard S. Reich, The Making of American Industrial Research: Science and Business at GE and Bell, 1876–1926 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985). Steve Sturdy and Roger Cooter, “Science, Scientific Management, and the Transformation of Medicine in Britain, c. 1870–1950,” History of Science 36 (1998). Gerald M. Swatez, “The Social Organization of a University Laboratory,” Minerva 8 (1970). Sharon Traweek, Beamtimes and Lifetimes: The World of High Energy Physicists (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1988). R. Steven Turner, “Justus Liebig versus Prussian Chemistry: Reflection on Early Institute-Building in Germany,” Historical Studies in the Physical Sciences 13 (1982): 137.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">George Frederick Wright and the Harmony of Science and Revelation</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2007/george-frederick-wright/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="George Frederick Wright and the Harmony of Science and Revelation" /><published>2007-05-02T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2007/george-frederick-wright</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2007/george-frederick-wright/"><![CDATA[George Frederick Wright was an Oberlin-educated theologian and self-taught geologist who lived from 1838 to 1921. He was among the most influential Christian interpreters of Darwinism as Americans began to debate the theory in the 1870s and 1880s. In his writings, Wright illustrated a method for reconciling evolutionary theory with Christianity. Wright himself was a Calvinist, and he argued that his own conservative theological tradition shared important characteristics with Darwinism.

At the turn of the century, however, Wright began to criticize both Darwinism in particular and evolutionary thought generally. A decade later, he was among the authors of a series of pamphlets entitled <cite>The Fundamentals</cite>, and thus a standard bearer for the conservative wing of American Protestantism that soon developed into the fundamentalist movement. Furthermore, one of the three articles he contributed to <cite>The Fundamentals</cite>, “The Passing of Evolution,” was a forceful attack on evolutionary thought.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="science" /><category term="biology" /><category term="geology" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="religion" /><category term="Christianity" /><category term="conservatism" /><category term="books" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[George Frederick Wright was an Oberlin-educated theologian and self-taught geologist who lived from 1838 to 1921. He was among the most influential Christian interpreters of Darwinism as Americans began to debate the theory in the 1870s and 1880s. In his writings, Wright illustrated a method for reconciling evolutionary theory with Christianity. Wright himself was a Calvinist, and he argued that his own conservative theological tradition shared important characteristics with Darwinism. At the turn of the century, however, Wright began to criticize both Darwinism in particular and evolutionary thought generally. A decade later, he was among the authors of a series of pamphlets entitled The Fundamentals, and thus a standard bearer for the conservative wing of American Protestantism that soon developed into the fundamentalist movement. Furthermore, one of the three articles he contributed to The Fundamentals, “The Passing of Evolution,” was a forceful attack on evolutionary thought.]]></summary></entry></feed>