Knowing the history of your thing – whatever it is – helps you understand why things are the way they are, by showing you how things once were and what made them change.
Frequent readers will know I am a fan of science history – at least the fun bits!
Not too long ago I wrote that I wanted to explain one reason why I thought more people learn the history of science.
In the first of a series of posts* bringing you a video series showing a (very) brief history of science I wrote:
I’d also like to offer some thoughts on why scientists and science writers should bother learn the history of science, but they’re for another day.
Alison suggested (in the comments):
Top of the list of why learning the history of science is a Good Thing: it gives you an (enhanced) understanding of how science actually works :-)
Absolutely, that’s one reason. I’m thinking of another for my later post ;-)
Alison is right that this is a key reason to learn the history of science.
This is that later post, so let me share with you my other reason.
I came to thinking that learning the history of your niche is important as a student through noting that one thing some older scientists brought to their discussions of current topics was an understanding of the order of events, an history of the subject at hand.
They tended not to so much say ’here’s how it is’ as to say ’well… X did this, then later Y realised this didn’t explain Z, and after some work we now believe it’s like this’. Essentially, they conveyed how the present situation came to be.
You’ll have heard of the scientific method, but why did it arise? Not just by who but how things were previously reasoned, and what necessitated the change.
A better-known example might be the modern synthesis of the theory of evolution. It’s not especially hard to see why we have this, but it’s best appreciated if you understand what the earlier theory of evolution stood for and was built upon.
You can apply this to any area of science. It applies to small things, too. I’ve written previously about bioinformatics using an element of this thinking. It applies even to very niche areas. An example in my case is hydration of (association of water molecules with) protein or DNA molecules and protein-DNA complexes.**
It doesn’t have to be ancient science, like in the illustrations in this article. It applies just as much to developments over our own lifetime, too.
A lot of my research interests are with gene regulation, how genes are controlled, used when needed, active in some organs but not others.
Quite a lot has been added to this story since the late 1980s.
Knowing that history gives me a much richer appreciation of the status quo. I imagine it’d be harder for a newcomer looking only at the present understanding to appreciate of some of the findings: their significance is most easily seen through having lived through*** the back-and-forth of the developments that lead to the current understanding.
That’s a general thing I think is often lacking in an explanation or discussion. An expression, or appreciation, of how the current understanding came to be.
I remember thinking that it was a key element missing from my undergraduate training. I guess I wished that (some of) it had been taught as a narrative, so you might see how it had played out and developed.
This same issue occurs in any area of specialisation that has developed over time.
As another example, I have sometimes remarked on new ways of presenting elements of documents on-line. My approach to this was to, in an amateur way, look back at the history document design, hoping that understanding the previous progression might suggest how to carry it forwards. (It’s one reason I’m against the expanded in-line paragraph idea. While it’s clever coding, and it has it’s place, I don’t think it belongs in body text. Then again, I’ m perhaps biased, having coded my own alternative solution to this issue!)
Likewise looking at the history of science communication sheds interesting light on the current-day issues. I love Biomphemera’s (Jessica Palmer’s) take on it: Bloggers are just 19th-century newspaper editors with laptops, LOLcats, and the occasional man-bat. (There is, of course, a more serious literature of the history of science communication.)
There’s no need to limit this to science, science communication or document design.
I don’t know much about pottery. In fact I know almost nothing about pottery. I have a vague memory of making something resembling a mug in the early years of my high school. It had a handle, but that fell off after a while. (I still used it without the handle, as I was attached to it, even if the handle wasn’t.) Nevertheless, I know pottery has a long history that I am sure informs potters of current practice, why what is done is done as it is.
Understanding why things are as they are today is best understood through understanding the way they were and why things moved on.
Read the history of ‘your thing’. You won’t regret it.
** I can’t imagine this interests many of my non-specialist readers, but if it does let me know and I might conjure up an article about it.
*** For some areas, reading the literature in order as it appears will convey some of this. It’s harder to appreciate the viewpoints of the time in hindsight, however.
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