Ingenious Pursuits: Building the Scientific Revolution
by Lisa Jardine
Doubleday
320 pp.; $35

French DNA: Trouble in Purgatory
by Paul Rabinow
Univ. of Chicago Press
200 pp.; $25

Sex and Death: An Introduction to Philosophy of Biology
by Kim Sterelny and Paul E. Griffiths
Univ. of Chicago Press
416 pp.; $22, paper

Science is not done in a vacuum. Although the workings of the natural world are arguably independent of the human context in which they are discovered, it is undeniable that which scientific questions are pursued, and hence which scientific discoveries are made, depends on the culture in which the scientists are working. It is equally undeniable that scientific discoveries have a moral and philosophical impact on society. Three recent books—Lisa Jardine's Ingenious Pursuits: Building the Scientific Revolution; Paul Rabinow's French DNA: Trouble in Purgatory; and Kim Sterelny and Paul Griffiths's Sex and Death: An Introduction to Philosophy of Biology—address the questions of how science fits into the surrounding culture, each from a different angle.

One central message of Jardine's Ingenious Pursuits is that scientific progress depends on money, and money comes when there is economic and political reason to be interested in the scientific results. Al though Jardine's subject matter is Renaissance-era European science, this observation is just as true in America, or anywhere else, today (as I put the final touches on this review, I am also working on two grant proposals).

Jardine recounts the major scientific developments of the period together with the reasons that they were funded. For example, astronomical observatories were established in every major European capital and astronomers employed at those observatories because both land surveying and marine navigation depended on astronomical observations. (Louis XIV of France, on surveying new maps of France based on improved observations, remarked that he lost more of his territory to his astronomers than to his enemies.) Out of vast tables of astronomical data (collected in order to calculate latitude and longitude) emerged Newton's theory of universal gravitation, one of a handful of foundational principles of physics that persisted until it was superseded by Einstein's theory of general relativity in the early twentieth century.

Another theme of Ingenious Pursuits which is as true today as it was 300 years ago is that technology makes scientific progress possible. Astronomy relies on accurate chronometers, so astronomy—both what we would call basic astronomical research and the data tables used for surveying and navigation—advanced as timekeeping technology advanced. Similarly, the development of the microscope opened up the world of the miniature for biologists to observe. (If you're wondering about economic support for microscopy, European nobles were fascinated with the microscopic, and bought both microscopes themselves and books of engravings of things seen through microscopes. Since photography of microscope images was not possible, progress in understanding how to draw three-dimensional objects, and skilled draughtsmen and artists capable of rendering accurately the microscopist's sketches of what he saw, were essential to such work.) Scientists such as Anton van Leeuwenhoek discovered protozoa, learned about the functioning of cells and or ganelles, and studied the anatomy of insects and other small creatures.

Jardine is a good storyteller, and Ingenious Pursuits is filled with stories that are well told, as well as accessible to the reader with little scientific background. Beautiful illustrations enrich the telling, particularly in the chapters on micros copy and botany. Unfortunately, the book fails to tie its stories together into a coherent whole. The eight chapters, each focused on a particular area of science, hang together loosely if at all, held together largely by a common time period and some common characters, rather than by thematic connections. Some chapters with related content (for example, chapters 1, 4, and 5, all of which deal with chronometry and astronomy) are surprisingly repetitive, as if Jardine's editor wasn't paying attention when those chapters came by. And the book is really too long. The same points could be made more clearly and the same stories told more lucidly with less de tail. The historical narrative is so thorough that the book misses opportunities for both brevity and insight. Nevertheless, Ingenious Pursuits is enjoyable to read as well as informative, at least in small doses.

The opening chapter of French DNA poses a fascinating question: How can a post-Christian, postmodern culture assign unique identity and value to the human race and human individuals? According to Paul Rabinow, society in both France and America today faces the ethical questions posed by biotechnology without a clear framework for identifying what confers value on humanity as a whole or a given human individual. Christianity formerly provided such a framework, but in the post-Christian state of both cultures, Rabinow suggests, new frameworks must be constructed in which to address bioethical conundrums. Such new frameworks require a new concept of what is spiritual about human beings. Molecular biology indicates that much of the identity of human individuals is recorded in DNA; is it possible that DNA has spiritual qualities?

French DNA examines these questions as it narrates the failed attempt of a premier French genetics laboratory (the Centre d'Etude de Polymorphisme Humaine, or CEPH) and an American biotechnology company (Millennium Pharmaceuticals) to collaborate in mapping the human genome with the aim of identifying genes involved in muscular dystrophy. This failure was rooted in transnational disagreements over ethical guidelines to be applied in carrying out the research. Rabinow devotes most of the book to describing the process by which the collaboration was pursued and then rejected, turning an anthropologist's eye on the workings of the organizations and the relationships between the individuals involved. Chapters 1 and 4 and the epilogue provide Rabinow's analysis of the situation.

A good analysis of the process by which spiritual and ethical frameworks are constructed would be both interesting and valuable, particularly for Christians concerned about how to engage this process in the wider culture. Unfortunately, Rabinow's analysis is extremely disappointing. (Tellingly, the review of this book that appeared in Science [November 5, 1999] makes no mention of the conceptual framework, focusing exclusively on the story of the failed collaboration. Perhaps that reviewer skipped the analysis?) The opening chapter is dense and difficult to follow; had I not promised to review this book, I probably would have quit after about five pages.

Worse, Rabinow never explains how spiritual and ethical frameworks were constructed in this situation, at least as far as I could tell. While he introduces the intriguing idea that the French draw on the metaphor of dwelling in purgatory as they engage these questions, it is never made clear exactly how this metaphor influences the particular choices that are made. Likewise, the idea that the DNA under study is somehow a national inheritance (Rabinow's term is "patrimony") to be respected and safeguarded seems to promise an interpretation, but this idea is not tied to an underlying concept of the value of humanity nor to resulting ethical principles. Most of the 150 poorly written pages that narrate the unfolding conflict between the CEPH, the French scientific regulatory bodies, and Millennium are simply that: narrative, left hanging free of analysis.

I hoped to find Rabinow's conclusions in the epilogue (titled "The Anthropological Commentary"), but this final chapter avoids the central questions posed at the outset and instead spends 14 opaque, jargon-filled pages discussing the goals of the book in particular and the anthropologist or ethnographer in general. As best I could tell, the book's stated goal was "to identify the crystallization of value judgments around new forms." However, the remainder of the book did not indicate what value judgments were made, much less the spiritual framework on which they rest (my best guess at what Rabinow means by the "new forms" around which value judgments can "crystallize").

Perhaps a reader more versed in anthropology and sociology than I would have understood Rabinow's strategy better or found it more appealing. I would have greatly preferred a treatment that clearly identifies how these post-Christian, postmodern cultures answer the question of "what gives humanity its value and unique identity?" and working out the concomitant bioethical issues. If Rabinow chose to write only for a specialized anthropological audience, he has missed an opportunity to shape the way scientists (who typically have little or no training in ethics or philosophy), as well as the general public, engage the ethical questions posed by biotechnology.

Sex and Death not only has the most interesting title of the three books; it is also the one I recommend most highly. Reading it reveals that, in spite of all the heated debate that takes place in the wider culture about whether or not the theory of evolution is to be accepted, there is a much more important prior question to be asked and answered: What is evolution, anyway?

Kim Sterelny and Paul Griffiths, both philosophers of science, indicate that the overall purpose of the book is to evaluate "the adequacy of the received view of evolution." In so doing, they aim to provide a philosophical foundation for answering broader questions, such as whether biology can contribute to the social and behavioral sciences, or whether there exists an essential human nature. According to the authors, the received view of evolution, as formulated by Ernst Mayr, has the following components:

1. The living world in general is not constant; evolutionary change has occurred.

2. Evolutionary change has a branching pattern. The species now alive are descended from one (or a few) remote ancestors.

3. New species form when a population splits and the fragments diverge. …

4. Evolutionary change is gradual. …

5. The mechanism of adaptive change is natural selection.

They then explain that while nearly all biologists would agree with the first and fourth points and the first statement in the second point, and most would agree that "natural selection" is an important mechanism for change, there is immense disagreement about everything else, particularly what exactly natural selection is and how important it is. Are genes, organisms, or groups of organisms the unit of life that undergoes selection? How does selection take place? And what role have nonselective factors played in producing the world we live in?

The following ten chapters are devoted to exploring the possible meanings of "natural selection," as well as other processes that might contribute to adaptive change, and the strengths, weaknesses, and implications of each. No single approach is clearly superior.

For example, there are excellent arguments for genes being the basic element of life that undergoes selection, with organisms serving simply as a "vehicle" (in Richard Dawkins's terminology) for genes being reproduced. But this approach also has profound weaknesses, the most notable of which is that it's not clear exactly what a gene is. Biologists give the word "gene" a wide range of meanings de pending on the context. Is it a stretch of DNA that codes for a particular protein? All the DNA that codes for all the proteins involved in producing a particular set of traits in an organism (the "phenotype")? The DNA that codes for a part of a protein which changes and thus changes the traits? How one makes a case for genes being the object of selection depends on what one means by "gene." And other candidates for the objects of selection, as well as the processes by which selection takes place, are equally disputable.

The authors then move on to the implications of these questions for ecology and conservation, and for recent attempts to apply evolutionary theory to explain human behavior. Not surprisingly, the unresolved questions of evolutionary theory affect these applications. Evolutionary psychology (the attempt to explain human behavior in terms of natural selection of behaviors that promote evolutionary fitness) must satisfactorily address the following questions: What is the unit of human society in which behavior would evolve, the individual or the culture? How can the effect of behavior on fitness for survival be measured, and how can one determine if a particular behavior is optimal for fitness? Most important, is it really possible to determine if a given behavior persists because it improves the individual's fitness, and would change in response to environmental changes that altered the fitness of that behavior?

The authors conclude that while it seems self-evident that some human behaviors have arisen because they promote human survival better than other behaviors, and it seems possible that a refined version of evolutionary theory could contribute to psychology and the social sciences, evolutionary theory as it presently exists does not fruitfully explain human behavior.

Sex and Death is not light reading; this book is written partly to serve as a textbook for an introductory course in philosophy of biology. It is thus long and broad-ranging, and requires sustained attention. However, it is very well written, providing enjoyable, in formative, clear explanations of both biological phenomena and philosophical questions at a beginning undergraduate level. Furthermore, it is refreshing to read an examination of evolutionary theory that is free of the anxiety and polemic which typically accompany more popular writings on the subject. And while Sterelny and Griffiths affirm the basic soundness of the quest to find an evolutionary theory, and say that the quest is making progress, their exposition of the challenges involved will be invaluable for advocates and detractors of evolutionary theory alike.

Catherine H. Crouch is a postdoctoral fellow in applied physics at Harvard University, Contributing Editor for Science at re:generation quarterly, and the mother of three-year-old Timothy .

Copyright © 2000 by the author or Christianity Today/Books & Culture Magazine. Click here for reprint information on Books & Culture.