September 1931 is seen by historians as one of the key months in interwar British history. It was the first full month of the National Government, the month of the Invergordon Mutiny and of Britain being forced off the gold standard. It was also the month when large-scale celebrations were held to mark the centenary of the discovery of electromagnetic induction by Michael Faraday. This address discusses the specific events of celebrating Faraday and its consequences; it is framed in relation to, and in some instances directly linked with, the crises of that month and some of the consequences of the Great War, especially the growth of the corporate and coordinated state and the rise of modernity.

Let us honour if we can
The Vertical man
Though we value none
But the horizontal one.
W. H. Auden, Poems, London, 1930, dedication

This paper aims to show that the seventeenth-century conception of mechanics as the science of particles in motion founded on universal laws of motion owes much to the employment of a new conceptual resource – the physics of motion developed within optics. The optical analysis of reflection was dynamically interpreted through the mechanical analogy of rebound. The kinematical and dynamical principles so employed became directly applicable to natural phenomena after the eventual transformation of light's ontological status from that of an Aristotelian ‘quality’ to a corpuscular phenomenon, engendered by the rise of atomism during the first half of the seventeenth century. The mechanization of light led to a conceptual shift from the analogical employment of dynamical principles in the physical interpretation of reflection to the mechanical generalization of optical principles – the direct application of kinematical and dynamical principles of reflection to mechanical collisions. This first part of the paper traces out the first conceptual shift from Aristotle's original analogy of reflection as rebound to its full concretization. A second part will trace out the second conceptual shift, from the full concretization of this analogy to the axiomatization of already generalized kinematical and dynamical principles of reflection into laws of nature and of motion.

Sir Kenelm Digby's A Late Discourse … Touching the Cure of Wounds by the Powder of Sympathy (1658) is usually read in the context of seventeenth-century explanations of the weapon-salve. The salve supposedly worked by being applied to the weapon that made a wound rather than to the wound itself. But Digby's essay was as much an effort to claim priority for a powdered version of the sympathetic cure as an explanation of how the cure worked. A close examination of Digby's claims in the Late Discourse in the context of his own earlier work and of works by his contemporaries shows his priority claim to have been false. It was recognized as such by his most knowledgeable associates. The story of Digby's fabrications offers a case study of the generic and rhetorical terms in which seventeenth-century English thinkers made and challenged natural-philosophical claims.

Many historians today prefer to speak of knowledge and practice rather than science and technology. Here I argue for the value of reinstating the terms science, techniques and technology as tools for a more precise analysis of governmentality and the workings of power. My tactic is to use these three categories and their articulations to highlight flows between matter and ideas in the production and reproduction of knowledge. In any society, agriculture offers a wonderfully rich case of how ideas, material goods and social relations interweave. In China agronomy was a science of state, the basis of legitimate rule. I compare different genres of agronomic treatise to highlight what officials, landowners and peasants respectively contributed to, and expected from, this charged natural knowledge. I ask how new forms of textual and graphic inscription for encoding agronomic knowledge facilitated its dissemination and ask how successful this knowledge proved when rematerialized and tested as concrete artefacts or techniques. I highlight forms of innovation in response to crisis, and outline the overlapping interpretative frameworks within which the material applications of Chinese agricultural science confirmed and extended its truth across space and time.

Solar microscopes and their techniques attracted particular attention in the second half of the eighteenth century. This paper investigates the grounds for this interest. After a general introduction to the solar microscope, it discusses the use of original instruments to gain access to the visual culture of solar microscopes and the issues raised by these re-enactments. Experiences involved in this process serve as a basis for reassessing the original source materials. Thence emerges a different account of the meaning of the solar microscope in the eighteenth century and possible reasons for its popularity.

This article explores the enticement of consumers for natural philosophy (buyers of books, audiences at public lectures and purchasers of instruments) in London between 1695 and 1720 through advertisements placed in two political newspapers. This twenty-five-year period witnessed both the birth of public science and the rage of party politics. A consideration of public science adverts within the Whig-leaning Post Man and the Tory-leaning Post Boy reveals that members of both the Whig and Tory parties were equally targeted and that natural philosophy was sold to London's reading population in bipartisan fashion. In the process of integrating natural philosophy into the wider culture through commercial sales, political allegiances were not imprinted on the advertising process. This conclusion raises questions regarding the historiographical assertion of Whig-supported public science and Tory opposition to it at the level of consumers.

The phenomenon of the Giant's Causeway in the north of Ireland has attracted much attention over five centuries. This essay recounts the formative years between 1688 and 1708 of the Giant's Causeway as a field site and ‘philosophical landscape’ in the light of recent research on the historical geographies of scientific knowledge. This research has provided new perspectives on field science, emphasizing the spatial character of the field and its discursive formation in different spaces. A view of the field as a self-contained unit in which science is practised is rendered problematic. Instead, it is seen as part of a network of intersecting locales within which scientists and science circulate. This essay draws upon this work, exploring and mapping the spaces and techniques used by late seventeenth-century natural philosophers in London and Dublin to generate observational and conceptual knowledge of the Giant's Causeway. In doing so, the paper contributes to an understanding of the spaces of natural philosophy in the seventeenth century, of the knowledge networks within which the virtuosi operated and of the earth science field site.

In his presidential address to the Belfast meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science in 1874, John Tyndall launched what David Livingstone has called a ‘frontal assault on teleology and Christian theism’. Using Tyndall's intervention as a starting point, this paper seeks to understand the attitudes of Presbyterians in the north of Ireland to science in the first three-quarters of the nineteenth century. The first section outlines some background, including the attitude of Presbyterians to science in the eighteenth century, the development of educational facilities in Ireland for the training of Presbyterian ministers, and the specific cultural and political circumstances in Ireland that influenced Presbyterian responses to science more generally. The next two sections examine two specific applications by Irish Presbyterians of the term ‘science’: first, the emergence of a distinctive Presbyterian theology of nature and the application of inductive scientific methodology to the study of theology, and second, the Presbyterian conviction that mind had ascendancy over matter which underpinned their commitment to the development of a science of the mind. The final two sections examine, in turn, the relationship between science and an eschatological reading of the signs of the times, and attitudes to Darwinian evolution in the fifteen years between the publication of The Origin of Species in 1859 and Tyndall's speech in 1874.

Francis Hauksbee (1660–1713) is well known for his double-barrelled air-pump. However, the origin of this pump, and Hauksbee's background, are often described as a mystery. This text seeks to dispel the riddle. It is argued that Hauksbee's competence as an exceptional maker of air-pumps was developed between 1699 and 1703 as a result of his experiences with the construction, manufacturing and sale of cupping-glasses. His cupping utensils embodied a new design, where syringes were used to evacuate the glasses, instead of the traditional way by fire or mouth suction. These syringes, which in fact were small air-pumps, were perfected between 1699 and 1701. A larger syringe, introduced in 1701, served as a transition from the cupping-syringe to his first air-pump for use in natural philosophy. This syringe was described as a ‘combined engine’, which could serve as an air-pump, a condensing engine and a syringe for injecting air, wax or mercury into pathological specimens. Hauksbee's first air-pump was a single-barrelled model introduced in 1702, based on the combined engine. Its various features, such as easy and convenient leak-tightening, exact pressure measurements by an in-built barometer and an air-inlet function for readmission of air into the receiver, are discussed. Finally, it is shown that these activities gave Hauksbee the reputation of being an outstanding instrument-maker, years before the double-barrelled air-pump was in sight.

The paper describes the author's witnessing of images projected from an eighteenth-century solar microscope made by John Dollond, now at the Deutsches Museum in Munich. Peter Heering facilitated this session as part of his research on the solar microscope. A rectangular mirror, the length of a hand, mounted outside a museum window caught the sunlight and directed it indoors into the microscope's optical tube with its specimen. Astonishing detail was displayed in the resulting image projected onto a screen at human height. Crisply delineated scales patterned the image cast by a historical specimen of a butterfly wing. Observers interacted fluidly with these images in the very dark room. In sharing what we noticed, questioned and conjectured, we contributed to a temporary community. These participant interactions relate to Steven Shapin and Simon Schaffer's notion that, in the seventeenth century, Robert Boyle used witnessing as a ‘collective act’. Here, the ‘collective act’ spanned participation across history. For example, Robert Hooke's 1665 Micrographia inspired Philip and Phylis Morrison's workshop during my college years and their collaboration with the Eames Office on a film depicting travel through ‘powers of ten’, based on Kees Boeke's 1957 picture book. Personal memories were extended and informed by historical experiences, both for Robert Hooke's subsequent interpreters and for Peter Heering's participants.

The nineteenth-century engineering hero Isambard Kingdom Brunel was a prominent patent abolitionist in debates about the patent system in Britain. His opposition is usually regarded as principled, that is, based in liberal laissez-faire opposition to monopolies and to the constraints of bureaucracy. Against this it is argued that Brunel's views on patents evolved. As late as 1840, despite lessons about patents from the bad experiences of his father, Brunel could still consider taking out a patent himself, something that a decade later he denied he had ever contemplated. Brunel's engineering persona, his experiences and conduct of engineering practice were the base from which he eventually formulated principled opposition to the patent system. The paper examines his responses to importunate inventors who pestered him with inventions in the 1840s and elucidates how he dealt with the patented inventions of others that he wanted to use in his projects. It is suggested that for Brunel patent abolitionism was in effect a way of doing business before it became a political cause. The case suggests the value of approaching the history of patents and, by implication, of intellectual property more generally, through detailed examination of practices.

The British Association for the Advancement of Science sought to promote the understanding of science in various ways, principally by having annual meetings in different towns and cities throughout Britain and Ireland (and, from 1884, in Canada, South Africa and Australia). This paper considers how far the location of its meetings in different urban settings influenced the nature and reception of the association's activities in promoting science, from its foundation in 1831 to the later 1930s. Several themes concerning the production and reception of science – promoting, practising, writing and receiving – are examined in different urban contexts. We consider the ways in which towns were promoted as venues for and centres of science. We consider the role of local field sites, leading local practitioners and provincial institutions for science in attracting the association to different urban locations. The paper pays attention to excursions and to the evolution and content of the BAAS meeting handbook as a ‘geographical’ guide to the significance of the regional setting and to appropriate scientific venues. The paper considers the reception of BAAS meetings and explores how far the association's intentions for the promotion of science varied by location and by section within the BAAS. In examining these themes – the geographical setting of the association's meetings, the reception of association science in local civic and intellectual context and the importance of place to an understanding of what the BAAS did and how it was received – the paper extends existing knowledge of the association and contributes to recent work within the history of science which has emphasized the ‘local’ nature of science's making and reception and the mobility of scientific knowledge.

In general history and popular culture, the long 1960s, a period roughly beginning in the mid-1950s and ending in the mid-1970s, has been held to be a period of change. This paper offers a model which captures something of the long 1960s as a period of ‘sea change’ resulting from the interference of three waves. Wave One was an institutional dynamic that drew out experts from closed and hidden disagreement into situations where expert disagreement was open to public scrutiny. Wave One also accounts for the multiplication of experts. Wave Two consisted of social movements, institutions and audiences that could carry public scrutiny and provide a home for sea-change cultures. In particular, Wave Two provided the stage, audience and agents to orchestrate a play of disagreeing experts. Wave Three was marked by an orientation towards the self, in diverse ways. Modern science studies is a phenomenon of Wave Three. All three waves must be understood in the context of the unfolding Cold War.

Thomas Salusbury's Life of Galileo (1664) was the first substantial biography of Galileo Galilei (1564–1642) in any language. All copies but one were destroyed in the Great Fire of London in 1666. The surviving copy was lost in the library of the Earls of Macclesfield at Shirburn Castle in the mid-nineteenth century. With the auction of the library in 2004–7, it temporarily re-emerged. This essay presents a preliminary description of the copy and its contents. It argues that to understand the existence and nature of the book we need to explore the social relations governing the control of information in early modern Europe. It is shown that Salusbury's project was launched in the face of social and political information blockades and in direct competition with other similar ventures. In particular, rumours of the future publication of an official biography by Vincenzo Viviani (1622–1703) and continuing negotiations over the memory and reputation of Galileo in Italy presented insurmountable barriers to the successful completion of his project. Despite these problems Salusbury's biography, produced on the margins of the emerging Royal Society, presents a spirited portrait of Galileo. Moreover, nearly four hundred years after the event, it offers a new and provocative explanation of the famous trial.

This essay analyses the development of the Carrel-Dakin treatment for infected wounds during the First World War to explore the relationship between industrialized warfare and experimental medicine, the politics of standardization, and the relationship between the theories and practices of physiology and scientific management. It first describes the intellectual and institutional context from which Alexis Carrel's wound research emerged: experimental medicine and the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research. Next the story moves to the experimental laboratory hospital on the Western Front and the quantification of wounds. Then it considers the propaganda and training campaign in support of the method at the War Demonstration Hospital located on the institute's New York City campus. The de-skilling inherent in the standardization of surgical practice was a response to the incompetence of inexperienced military surgeons, but also an attempt to restructure the medical profession into a hierarchical organization capable of being administered by elite scientist–physicians. Underlying the narrative is the paradox of simultaneous segregation of the biological and the social through laboratory practices and their conflation through the organic analogy.

This paper explores the history of radio echo-sounding (RES), a technique of glaciological surveying that from the late 1960s has been used to examine Antarctica's sub-glacial morphology. Although the origins of RES can be traced back to two accidental findings, its development relied upon the establishment of new geopolitical conditions, which in the 1960s typified Antarctica as a continent devoted to scientific exploration. These conditions extended the influence of prominent glaciologists promoting RES and helped them gather sufficient support to test its efficiency. The organization and implementation of a large-scale research programme of RES in Antarctica followed these developments. The paper also examines the deployment of RES in Antarctic explorations, showing that its completion depended on the availability of technological systems of which RES was an integral part.