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Vol. 41, No. 1, January 2012
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From the HSS President: History of Science Unbound

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by Lynn K. Nyhart

Lynn Nyhart
Lynn K. Nyhart,
2012–2013 HSS President

The history of science is everywhere. It is in the names of street signs and in currency adorned with portraits of national scientific heroes. It is in inspirational stories that children learn about men and women who have advanced fundamental knowledge of nature, or who have contributed to improvements in health and technology. It is likewise in the admonitory writings of novelists, playwrights, and muckrakers depicting those who have twisted or suppressed the truths of nature for personal, financial, religious, or political gain. And it is in phrases casually slung around—"It's not rocket science;" "Hey, it's only a theory."

These stories and symbols, and the histories behind them, are not generally made by historians of science. Why not? Because the history of science is bigger than we are. Scientists, politicians, civic and national boosters, clergy, bureaucrats, journalists, fiction writers, educators of all stripes and at all levels—all of these groups, along with us, have a stake in making histories of science. Yet we are the experts. We are the ones who understand and care most about the nuances of making scientific knowledge. We have studied science's entanglements with nationalism and hero-worship and have analyzed the shaping of historical narratives that make certain outcomes seem inevitable. We have theorized about the moral ambiguities of science in a culture saturated with conflicting social and economic messages. We know this stuff. But we don't own it. So what should the history of science, as a profession, do?

Here's a thought: we could become "them." Instead of noticing (and complaining about) science writers who take our best material and get it not-quite right, we could sometimes choose–and then learn–to write the way they do. Instead of sighing over science textbooks that compress history into brief sidebars, we could work with their writers to show why history of science deserves not only more space but integration into the overall presentation of science. We could further encourage history of science students to become K–12 teachers, museum professionals, and film-makers, and seek out active means to funnel people headed for these futures into history of science courses. Instead of bemoaning the lack of science-cultural literacy among our politicians and government bureaucrats, we could prepare our students for non-academic jobs that engage with science-related public policy.

All of this is already happening, on small and local scales, individual by individual, driven in part by the endlessly dismal job market in higher education. But the profession as a whole has not yet caught up to this reality. Too many of us still envision the history of science profession as a series of concentric circles centered on a few successful graduate programs and their professors, and tailing off toward peripheral "alternative" careers that are treated as less successful. We need a gestalt shift.

Rather than a concentric approach, how about a polycentric view: the history of science community as a social and intellectual network with many centers and many levels, all connected by our shared commitment to advancing our subject. Considered geographically, this network has significant nodes around centers of graduate and undergraduate education in the field. Other major geographic nodes exist in communities with different kinds of history of science-related institutions, where scholars who curate history of science research resources and museum exhibits, teach K–12 students, develop policy, and write or edit works for the general public stay in close and active touch with one another and with their college- and university-based colleagues. But geographic proximity is not the only way of maintaining community. Given the ease of electronic communication these days, an independent scholar who devotes time to email and Facebook may be as plugged in to history of science networks as a college teacher who is buried under an avalanche of teaching and grading assignments. Geographically and institutionally dispersed sub-networks might have especially thick lines of communication deriving from shared graduate school experiences, intellectual interests, or career/life trajectories.

What difference would it make to envision our profession in this way? First, replacing the concentric image with the polycentric one would help bring recognition to the great diversity of jobs and life-situations existing among practitioners of the history of science, and be more welcoming of scholars whose lives allow them to publish original research only rarely. It would help us re-think "alternative careers" in the history of science simply as "careers." Second, it would invite greater openness in what we imagine it means to "do" the history of science. If we want to reach a broader public, we should consider "doing" history of science to include writing for that public, making films and websites, blogging, and constructing museum exhibits—especially when these involve direct engagement with primary sources and making historical arguments. Third, taking this attitude could potentially expand who we think "we" are—not just people who are active researchers and college teachers of the history of science, but those who translate scholarly work into forms more accessible to a broader public. By actively embracing this broader community as part of "us," we might gain greater influence over the messages that circulate beyond the ivied walls (though there are never any guarantees). Fourth, thinking in terms of social as well as intellectual networks might help us stay connected with the many people who engage deeply with the history of science community at some stage of their lives but for whom active intellectual engagement then takes a back seat. It could thereby invigorate the Society's sense of community, and draw in a broader membership among people for whom Isis subscribership is less central than a sense of membership in the community qua community.

None of this would require giving up the advancement of original scholarship as a primary goal of the profession. This will always be at the heart of what we do. Nor would it mean relinquishing the history of earlier periods in favor of policy-relevant recent topics—the evidence from historical novels and popular histories suggests that early topics remain compelling to general readers, and we should be able to capitalize on that interest. What I'm talking about is recasting the image we carry around of our community to better fit the realities of our subject matter, our membership, and our times.

Whether or not we go this far collectively in re-envisioning our professional community, it seems pretty clear that both the demographics of the profession and the rapidly changing structure of today's media are pressing us to do some serious rethinking of the forms and functions of the Society to best serve our community. (That means you.) A start is to modernize and expand our forms of communication. Many of you will have noticed the HSS Facebook page, which has become more active in recent months, thanks to the efforts of Greg Macklem in the Executive Office. The Women's Caucus, the Graduate and Early Career Caucus, the Forum for the History of the Human Sciences, and the Forum for the History of Science in America also have active Facebook pages. FHS-America sponsors a lively blog, as does the Society's newest forum, FHSAsia. (If you haven't seen these, check them out!) We are working on a major renovation of our website and seek your views on what would improve it. What else would you like to see, that would help our internet presence? Are you interested in volunteering, either in relation to the HSS website or in some other way? Please write to Jay Malone (jay@hssonline.org) or me (lknyhart@wisc.edu) with your ideas. Better yet, start or join an open discussion thread on the new HSSForum and see what results!

I look forward to engaging in a big conversation in our community over the next couple of years about the shape of the profession and how the Society can best support our members. I urge you to join in the discussion and make your voice heard.

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