“When I was a student I was enjoined to reject the ‘Cleopatra’s Nose’ theory of history, so called after Pascal’s remark in the Pensées: ‘Cleopatra’s nose: if it had been shorter, everything in the world would have changed.’ The intent was not to dismiss biography as a way into the structuring of a historical narrative, but to reject the idea that the properties, ideas, or actions of some particular person were the necessary conditions for the unfolding of events in the world. If Josef Djugashvili had never been born, someone else could have been Stalin.

Despite this injunction, a remarkable amount of the history of science has been written through the medium of biographies of ‘great’ scientists to whose brilliant discoveries we owe our understanding of the material world, and this historical methodology has reinforced the common notion that history is made by outstanding individuals. No respectable historian would claim that if Newton had never been born we would still be ignorant about gravitation. Yet we still refer to the regularities of the behavior of physical bodies as ‘Newton’s Laws,’ the general regularities of simple inheritance as ‘Mendelism,’ and the science of biological evolution as ‘Darwinism.’ Even the famous history of science written by the Marxist J.D. Bernal is a recounting of the discoveries and inventions of individuals.

It would be wrong to say that biography is the sole, or even principal, present pathway into an understanding of the history of science. Certainly since Robert Merton’s founding of modern studies of the sociology of science in his 1938 work on seventeenth-century English science, the social milieu in which the problems of science arise and the institutional structure of scientific investigation have been central to our understanding of the history of scientific work. There are, however, occasions on which there are orgies of idolatrous celebrations of the lives of famous men, when the Suetonian ideal of history as biography overwhelms us. For Darwinians, 2009 is such a year.”

(Richard Lewontin, from “Why Darwin?” in the NYRB.)

“The author of ‘The Golden Age’ and of ‘Dream Days’ has disappointed us. There is no getting away from that melancholy fact. He has written in ‘The Wind in the Willows’, a book with hardly a smile in it, through which we wander in a haze of perplexity, uninterested by the story itself and at a loss to understand its deeper purpose. The chief character is a mole, whom the reader plumps upon on the first page whitewashing his house. Here is an initial nut to crack; a mole whitewashing. No doubt moles like their abodes to be clean; but whitewashing? Are we very stupid, or is this joke really inferior? However, let it pass. Then enters a water rat, on his way to a river picnic, in a skiff, with a hamper of provisions, including cold tongue, cold ham, French rolls, and soda water. Nut number two; for obviously a water rat is of all animals the one that would never use a boat with which to navigate a stream. Again, are we very stupid, or is this nonsense of poor quality? Later we meet a wealthy toad, who, after a tour of England in a caravan, drawn by a horse, becomes a rabid motorist. He is also an inveterate public speaker. We meet also a variety of animals whoso foibles doubtless are borrowed from mankind, and so the book goes on until the end. Beneath the allegory ordinary life is depicted more or less closely, but certainly not very amusingly or searchingly; while as a contribution to natural history the work is negligible. There are neat and fanciful passages; but they do not convince. The puzzle is, for whom is the book intended? Grown up readers will find it monotonous and elusive; children will hope in vain for more fun.”

(E. V. Lucas, review of Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows in the Times Literary Supplement, 22 October 1908, pointed out in the 17 October 2008 issue of the same publication. Lucas was also the co-author of the collage-novel What a Life!.)

“11. There is no doubt that all these doctors sought fame by means of some innovation, and irresponsibility trafficked with our lives. This accounts for those wretched arguments at the sick-bed when no two doctors give the same opinion for fear that a colleague’s diagnosis might appear to carry more weight. It also accounts for the sad inscription occurring on some monuments which says: ‘A gang of doctors killed me.’ The art of medicine changes daily and is constantly given a new look: we are swept along by the empty words of Greek intellectuals. It is well known that those who are successful speakers have the power of life and death over us, just as if thousands of people do not exist without doctors or medicine. The Romans did so for more than 600 years, although they are not slow to accept advances – and indeed were even avid for medicine until they put it to the test and rejected it!”

(Pliny the Elder in Book XXIX (“Medicine, Doctors and Medical Practice”) of Natural History; p. 263 in John Healy’s Natural History: A Selection.)

“111. Some authorities state that groups of shells, like swarms of bees, have an especially large, old shell as their leader – one marvellously skillful at looking out for dangers – and that divers deliberately seek these shells, since, when they are caught, the rest wander aimlessly and are easily trapped in nets. Then they are heavily salted in earthenware pots; the salt eats away all the flesh, and the nuclei, as it were of their bodies, namely the individual pearls, sink to the bottom.”

(Pliny the Elder in Book IX (“Creatures of the Sea”) of Natural History; p. 136 in John Healy’s Natural History: A Selection.)

“104. But why do I mention these trivial matters when shellfish are the prime cause of the decline of morals and the adoption of an extravagant life-style? Indeed, of the whole realm of nature the sea is in many ways the most harmful to the stomach, with its great variety of dishes and tasty fish.

105. But the foregoing pale into insignificance beside the purple-fish, purple robes and pearls. As if it were not enough for the produce of the seas to be stuffed down our throats, it is also worn on the hands, in the ears, on the head and all over the body of women and men alike! What has the sea to do with clothing, the waters and waves to do with wool? The sea receives us in a proper way only when we are without clothes. There may well be a strong alliance between the sea and our stomach, but what connection is there with our backs? Are we not satisfied by feeding on dangerous things without also being clothed by them? Do we get most bodily pleasure from luxuries that cost human life?”

(Pliny the Elder in Book IX (“Creatures of the Sea”) of Natural History; pp. 134–5 in John Healy’s Natural History: A Selection.)

“3. Yet, in all conscience, people who know much of what has been published by earlier writers cannot be found. The research of men of former times was more productive, or their industry was more successful, a thousand years ago at the beginning of literature, when Hesiod began to expound his principles for farmers. His research was followed by several writers, and this has resulted in more work for us, since now we have to investigate not only subsequent discoveries but also those made by earlier authorities, because men’s laziness has brought about a complete destruction of records.

4. What cause for this shortcoming could there be other than the state of world affairs generally? The thing is that other customs have crept in; men’s minds are preoccupied with other matters and the only arts practised are those of greed. In earlier times people had their power limited to their own boundaries, and for that reason their talents were circumscribed; there was no scope for amassing a fortune, so they had to exercise the positive quality of respect for the arts. Accordingly they put the arts first, when displaying their resources, in the belief that the arts could bestow immortality. This was the reason why life’s rewards and achievements were so plentiful.

5. The expansion of the world and the growing extent of our resources proved harmful to subsequent generations. Senators and judges began to be chosen by wealth, and wealth was the only embellishment of magistrates and commanders; lack of children began to exert the highest influence and power, and legacy-hunting was the most profitable occupation. In such a climate the only pleasure consisted in possession, whereas the true prizes of life went to rack and run and all the arts that were called ‘liberal’ – from liberty the greatest good – became quite the opposite. Obsequiousness began to be the sole means of advancement. Different men worshipped greed in different ways and different contexts, although every man’s prayer had the same goal – namely, the acquisition of material possessions. Everywhere even distinguished people preferred to cultivate others’ vices rather than their own good qualities. The result is, I declare, that pleasure has begun to live, while life itself has come to an end.”

(Pliny the Elder in Book XIV (“Vines and Viticulture”) of Natural History; pp. 182–3 in John Healy’s Natural History: A Selection.)

“A camel never travels beyond its normal daily mileage or carries more than a prescribed load. They are not so fast as horses for which they have an inborn hatred. Camels can endure thirst for four days and, when they have an opportunity to drink, fill themselves to make up for the time they have gone without and for their future needs; they stir up the water by trampling in it, otherwise they do not enjoy their drink. Camels live for fifty years, some even for a hundred, although even camels are liable to contract rabies.”

(Pliny the Elder in Book VII of Natural History; p. 117 in John Healy’s Natural History: A Selection.)

“191. It seems not inappropriate, before leaving our discussion of man’s nature, to point out what different people have discovered. Bacchus introduced buying and selling, the crown, the royal emblem and the triumphal processions. Ceres discovered corn; previously men had lived on acorns. She also invented milling and the making of flour in Attica (or, according to some authorities, in Sicily). This was the reason that Ceres was judged to be a goddess. Ceres was also the first to give laws – or, as others think, it was Rhadamanthus.”

(Pliny the Elder in Book VII of Natural History; p. 104 in John Healy’s Natural History: A Selection.)