Historians, philosophers, and physicists portray the 1920s and 1930s as a period of major theoretical breakthrough in physics, quantum mechanics, which led to the expansion of physics into the core of the atom and the growth and strengthening of the discipline. These important developments in scientific inquiry into the micro-world and light have turned historical attention away from other significant historical processes and from other equally important causes for the expansion of physics. World War II, on the other hand, is often seen as the watershed moment when physics achieved new levels of social and technical engagement at a truly industrial scale. Historians have shown that military interests and government funding have shaped physics to unprecedented degree, and according to some, to the extent of discontinuity with earlier practices of research (Forman 1987; Kevles 1990; Kaiser 2002). In this vein, Stuart Leslie wrote, “Nothing in the prewar experience fully prepared academic scientists and their institutions for the scale and scope of a wartime mobilization that would transform the university, industry, and the federal government and their mutual interrelationships” (Leslie 1993, 6). While one can never be fully ready for novelties, the contributors to this issue show that developments in interwar physics did prepare participants for their cold war interactions with industry and government.

The aim of this paper is two-fold: to offer an interpretation that preserves the natural reading of Physics II 1 – that Aristotle is drawing a stark distinction between what is natural and what is artificial; and to show how there is logical room for a tertium quid – a category for things that are products of both nature and art. This aim is attained by highlighting two important qualifications Aristotle makes about the products of art in relation to an innate internal principle of change and pointing out that the proper understanding of the significance of the essential-accidental distinction that Aristotle draws must be viewed in the context where he identifies two kinds of nature – form and matter. Based on these analyses, the following three logical categories are shown to be consistent with the passage: 1) purely natural things; 2) essentially artificial objects; and 3) essentially natural things with artificial aspects.

Science in film, and usual equivalents such as science on film or science on screen, refer to the cinematographic representation, staging, and enactment of actors, information, and processes involved in any aspect or dimension of science and its history. Of course, boundaries are blurry, and films shot as research tools or documentation also display science on screen. Nonetheless, they generally count as scientific film, and science in and on film or screen tend to designate productions whose purpose is entertainment and education. Moreover, these two purposes are often combined, and inherently concern empirical, methodological, and conceptual challenges associated with popularization, science communication, and the public understanding of science. It is in these areas that the notion of the deficit model emerged to designate a point of view and a mode of understanding, as well as a set of practical and theoretical problems about the relationship between science and the public.

An unusual compass, on which east and west are reversed, provides insight into the dynamics guiding our understanding of artifacts. By examining how such compasses were used in Tokugawa Japan (1600–1868), the benefits they brought, and how users knew how to read them, this article uncovers the cognitive factors that shape our interaction with technology. Building on the methodological approach of the distributed cognition theory, the article claims that reverse compasses allowed the user to conserve cognitive effort, which was particularly advantageous to Tokugawa-period mariners. Moreover, the article shows that even non-professional Tokugawa Japanese had a relatively easy time reading reverse compasses due to similarity between the compasses’ orientation and Tokugawa timekeeping practices. Building on the bodily and cognitive habits they had developed through the practices of keeping time, users could identify and interpret cultural cues embedded in the structure of reverse compasses.

This paper argues that Samuel Clarke's account of agent causation (i) provides a philosophical basis for moderate voluntarism, and (ii) both leads to and benefits from the acceptance of partial occasionalism as a model of causation for material beings. Clarke's account of agent causation entails that for an agent to be properly called an agent (i.e. causally efficacious), it is essential that the agent is free to choose whether to act or not. This freedom is compatible with the existence of conceptually necessary connections. Hence, Clarke can harmonize God's freedom of choosing with the existence of eternal and necessary relations among things. Moreover, in Clarke's account, only intelligent entities can be properly understood as efficacious causes. Beings deprived of intelligence are not agents or efficacious causes at all and their effects are thus the result of the immediate action of some intelligent being operating upon them.

Ludwik Antoni Birkenmajer (1855-1929), following along the paths pioneered by Leopold Prowe, Maximilian Curtze, Franz Hipler, and J. L. E. Dreyer, joined them as trailblazers of Copernican scholarship in the nineteenth century. Educated in the classics and mathematics, Birkenmajer began by examining more closely the Cracow background to Copernicus's development and studying his works and annotations in books he owned or read. Birkenmajer contributed many discoveries that eventually became common knowledge, and his studies loomed over Polish research on Copernicus into the 1970s. Focusing on historical context and his original insights, the essay reminds readers of his contributions (sections 1–2), relates them to discussions of Copernicus's precursors (section 3), to the debate about Maragha precedents (section 4), his reading of the Uppsala Notebook (sections 2 and 5), and his account of the origin of Copernicus's heliocentrism (section 6). By means of a more critical assessment of his interpretation, the essay revises earlier accounts, rescuing the original insights that mark Birkenmajer's most important contributions to current debates and his efforts to reconstruct Copernicus's path to heliocentrism.

I argue through an analysis of spectacle that the relationship between wildlife documentary films’ entertainment and educational mandates is complex and co-constitutive. Accuracy-based criticism of wildlife films reveals assumptions of a deficit model of science communication and positions spectacle as an external commercial pressure influencing the genre. Using the Planet Earth (2006) series as a case study, I describe spectacle's prominence within the recent blue-chip renaissance in wildlife film, resulting from technological innovations and twenty-first-century consumer and broadcast market contexts. I connect spectacle in contemporary wildlife films to its relevant precursors within natural history, situating spectacle as a central feature of natural history display designed to inspire awe and wonder in audiences. I show that contemporary documentary spectacle is best understood as an opportunity for affective knowing rather than a constraint on accuracy; as a result, spectacle contributes to the virtuous inter-reinforcement of entertainment and education at work in blue-chip wildlife films.

This paper examines some of the ways that machines, mechanisms, and the new mechanics were treated in post-World War I discourse. Spengler's 1919 Decline of the West and Hessen's 1931 study of Newton have usually been tied closely to Weimar culture in Germany, and Soviet politics. Linking them also to the writings of Rathenau, Simmel, Chase, Mumford, Hayek, and others, as well as to Dada and film studies of the city will indicate central features of a wide-ranging, international discourse on the machine and mechanization. I argue that machines were so thoroughly integrated into social and economic experience that we can treat this as a distinctive new phase in the cultural history of mechanics, what some contemporaries called the “machine age”: a period in which rather than the hand mill or steam engine, the city stands as an appropriate realization (and sometimes symbol) of the significance but also ambiguities and tensions of mechanical life; and concepts of mechanization were extended to encompass the economy and market mechanisms.

This paper examines the early institutionalization of sociology in Belgium. It displays how different intellectual and social contexts bred their own research interests and research approaches. It shows, more particularly, how ideological affiliations and divisions defined the setting within which this new discipline had to develop in Belgium in the decades around 1900. As a consequence of the ideological controversies, sociology had difficulty gaining legitimacy as a theory-driven analysis of society. Most scholars in Belgium could not avoid taking an explicitly normative position on society. This paper also displays how secularization and the reinforcement of the international level and its infrastructure gradually allowed for more academic autonomy for sociology in Belgium.

Among the many limitations of the deficit model of science communication is its inability to account for the qualities of communication products that arise from creative decisions about form and style. This paper examines two documentaries about the nature of time – Patricio Guzmán's Nostalgia for the Light and the first episode of the BBC's Wonders of the Universe series – in order to consider how film style inflects science with different meanings. The analysis pays particular attention to the ways in which authority is assigned between film author, narrator, and depicted subjects and the degree to which different film styles promote epistemological certainty or hesitancy.

This paper discusses one aspect of the context in which atomic physics developed in Japan between 1905 and 1931. It argues that during this period, there was a social context in which atomic physics was valued as a study of the electron and was thus relevant to electrical engineering. To demonstrate this, I first show that after the Russo-Japanese War, electrical engineering was deemed a valuable and viable field of research in Japan. Second, I show that physicists wrote textbooks and popular accounts about the electron, covering topics from both atomic physics and electrical engineering and presenting the former as relevant to the latter. Finally, as an example of how atomic physics partially emerged from this context, I discuss the group of Kujirai Tsunetarō, an electrical engineer who worked in the physics department of the Institute for Physical and Chemical Research (RIKEN). From Kujirai's group, Nishina Yoshio started his career and became the most important Japanese atomic and nuclear physicist of the 1930s.

This paper aims at understanding the concept of convention in mechanics as a notion transferred from the field of jurisprudence. This enables us to clarify it as a new epistemic category having a pertinent role in the transformation of mechanics in the nineteenth century. Such understanding permits a separation from linguistic and arbitrary conventions, thus highlighting its epistemic features and not transforming fundamental principles into mere arbitrary agreements. After addressing the main references in the literature discussing the role of convention in mechanics, we analyze its classical use as a concept originating from law. Then we explain its use by Carl G. Jacobi, Ferdinand F. Reech, and J. Henri Poincaré. Here we also show how their uses conform to the features analyzed regarding conventions in jurisprudence. Finally, we try to explain how the use of this concept, among other factors, contributed to the transformation of mechanics.

Franco's fascist regime in Spain (1939-1975) offers the possibility of exploring the complex relationship between media communication practices and the processes of production, circulation, and management of knowledge. The regime persistently used film, and later on television, as indoctrination and disciplining devices. These media thus served to shape the regime's representation, which largely relied on the generation of positive attitudes of adherence to the rulers through people's submission and obedience to experts. This article examines the changing nature of modernization discourses and practices, as a fundamental element of the regime's propaganda strategies, and as portrayed in documentaries produced under its rule. The rhetoric of modernization involved an explicit deficit model of knowledge management, which aimed at legitimating the regime's deeds and policies in its first decades, as we shall see regarding colonial-medical documentaries produced for the official newsreel in the 1940s. However, the focus of such rhetoric, despite its enduring political aims, had to somehow open up as the relationship between experts and non-experts changed, both in epistemological and practical terms, such as in wildlife documentary films produced for television in the 1970s, the regime's last decade.

Concentrating on the important developments of quantum physics, historians have overlooked other significant forces that shaped interwar physics, like that of technology. Based on the case of piezoelectricity, I argue that interests of users of technics (i.e. devices of methods) channeled research in physics into particular fields and questions relevant for industrial companies and governmental agencies. To recognize the effects of such social forces on physics, one needs to study the content of the scientific activity (both experimental and theoretical) of the researchers within its social and disciplinary contexts. By examining paths of individual scientists along with a study of the research in the field as a whole this paper exposes a range of reasons that led researchers to studies pertinent to technics. In particular, it shows that commercial, social, and military powers shaped interwar research through institutions aimed at fostering technology, some of them newly founded, and by a general view that academic research should help technology, a position that became more common at the time.

This article examines how antimicrobial resistance (AMR) came to be constituted as a matter of public concern in Sweden in conjunction with the development of an inter-professional organization called Strama, founded to promote rational prescription of antibiotics. An outbreak of penicillin-resistant pneumococci in the mid-1990s was crucial for this development, because it brought attention to AMR as an urgent public threat. This outbreak fuelled the constitution of AMR as caused by consumption of antibiotics and as a matter of disease control. As a consequence, Strama was able to mobilize the Swedish health officers responsible for disease control. The outbreak is conceptualized as a “transformative event” – an event that makes an issue and its associated risks concrete and urgent. Transformative events play the crucial role of expediting the transformation of issues into matters of public concern.

The discovery of electron diffraction by George Paget Thomson in Aberdeen and Clinton J. Davisson and Lester H. Germer at the Bell Labs has often been portrayed as an example of independent discovery. Neither team was particularly interested in the developments of the nascent quantum theory but they both ended up demonstrating one of the most striking experimental consequences of the new physics. This paper traces the aftermath of this discovery and the way electron diffraction immediately turned from empirical evidence of a highly novel theory into a technique for applied and technological research. Thomson was the first to design an “electron diffraction camera,” an instrument that soon found its place in laboratories around the world. I discuss the role played by Davisson and Germer, and by Thomson in the development of electron diffraction as a “research technology,” taking into account their specific institutional settings and research cultures. While Davisson and Germer remained in the industry-oriented Bell Labs, Thomson moved to Imperial College in 1930 where collaboration first, and competition later with George I. Finch was also relevant for the consolidation of an instrument that eventually became widely known as the “Finch Camera.”

As the deficit model's failure leaves scientists searching for more effective communicative approaches, science communication scholars have begun promoting narrative as a potent persuasive tool. Narratives can help the public make choices by setting out a scientific issue's contexts, establishing the stakes involved, and offering potential solutions. However, employing narrative for persuasion risks embracing the same top-down communication approach underlying deficit model thinking. This essay explores the parallels between movie censorship and the current use of narrative to influence public opinion by examining how the Hays Office and the Catholic Legion of Decency responded to science in movies. I argue that deploying narratives solely as public relations exercises demonstrates the same mistrust of audiences that provided the foundation of movie censorship. But the history of movie censorship reveals the dangers of using narrative to remove the public's agency and to coerce them towards a preferred position rather than fostering their ability to come to their own conclusions.

This article describes the efforts of one fifty-year-old nuclear physics research center to stay relevant as the boundaries of nuclear physics have expanded and distributed collaborations have become increasingly common. In adapting to these shifts, SENSE, a university-based institute in the United States, has seen notable changes in power relations, forms of legitimation, and social structures. This article recognizes and investigates these changes through an interpretative investigation of four common media objects incorporated into research practice at the institute: collaboration wikis, telephones, computer simulations, and government reports. In doing so, this article adopts an approach from media studies through which hard-to-see changes in social and cultural life can be investigated by observing media objects in research practice. Ultimately, this article tells the story of a research organization and an entire discipline working to adapt to a rapidly changing scientific landscape.