Thomas S. Kuhn's classic book is now available with a new index.

The production of big pictures is arguably the most significant sign of the intellectual maturity of a field. It suggests both that the field's broad contours, refined over several generations of scholarship, enjoy the approval of practitioners, and that audiences exist with an interest in or need for overviews. The situation is somewhat more complicated in the history of science, since the existence of big historical pictures precedes that of a well-defined scholarly field by about two centuries. Broadly conceived histories (...) of science and medicine were being written in the eighteenth century, when such an all-encompassing vision was central to the claims about the progress of knowledge upon which Enlightenment ideologues set such store. The Plato to Nato style histories, characteristic of the earlier twentieth century, were written largely by isolated pioneers, and while these were used in teaching as the field was becoming professionalized, recent scholars have preferred to concentrate on a monographic style of research. Despite the existence of the series started by Wiley, and now published by Cambridge University Press, it is only in the last ten years or so that more conscious attempts have been made to generate a big-picture literature informed by new scholarship. It is noteworthy that most of this is addressed to students and general readers, although there is no logical reason why it should not tackle major theoretical issues of concern to scholars. My point about maturity still holds, then, since as a designated discipline the history of science is rather new; it is still feeling out its relationship with cognate disciplines. Big-picture histories have an important role to play in these explorations since they make findings and ideas widely available and thereby offer material through which ambitious interpretations can be debated, modified and transformed. (shrink)

Like it or not, a big picture of the history of science is something which we cannot avoid. Big pictures are, of course, thoroughly out of fashion at the moment; those committed to specialist research find them simplistic and insufficiently complex and nuanced, while postmodernists regard them as simply impossible. But however specialist we may be in our research, however scornful of the immaturity of grand narratives, it is not so easy to escape from dependence – acknowledged or not – (...) on a big picture. When we define our research as part of the history of science, we implicitly invoke a big picture of that history to give identity and meaning to our specialism. When we teach the history of science, even if we do not present a big picture explicitly, our students already have a big picture of that history which they bring to our classes and into which they fit whatever we say, no matter how many complications and refinements and contradictions we put before them – unless we offer them an alternative big picture. (shrink)

(1992). A historical ethnography of a scientific anniversary in molecular biology: The first protein X‐ray photograph (1984, 1934) Social Epistemology: Vol. 6, The Historical Ethnography of Scientific Rituals, pp. 323-354.

Between the 1930s and 1950s, life science had evolved into a sophisticated and expensive scientific enterprise. Under the influence of the Rockefeller Foundation's program of molecular biology, vital processes, especially the properties of proteins, were increasingly probed through systematic applications of tools from the physical sciences. This trend altered the nature of biological knowledge, the organization of research, and patterns of funding for the life sciences, transforming laboratory research into 'big science' — a team activity centered around massive apparatus. The (...) development of the Tiselius apparatus during the 1930s and 1940s serves as an example par excellence of these nascent intellectual and institutional trends. The paper shows that the Tiselius apparatus and the research it spawned represented one of the early collaborative projectes organized around a major laboratory technology. From its inception, design, construction, and early uses the new electrophoresis technology was a joint-effort between Svedberg's group at the University of Uppsala, the Rockefeller Institute, and a few other elite institutions. These collaborations reflected access to resources, and a commitment to a scientific agenda which stressed the physico-chemical approach to biological phenomena. The collaborations were based on the 'protein paradigm' — the view that proteins were the primary determinants of biological specificity. By examining the intellectual programs and the institutional network around the Tiselius apparatus, this paper also underscores the fruitfulness of studying the history of laboratory technology of the life sciences. (shrink)