[New Politics, vol. 10, no. 1, whole no. 37, Summer 2004]
Lost Discoveries: The Ancient Roots of Modern Science -- From the Babylonians to the
Mayans
By Dick Teresi
New York: Simon and Schuster, 2002
464 pp. $15
MULTICULTURALISM HAS BECOME mainstream. Across North America and Europe, school curricula are checked for accurate representation of non-Western and non-white cultures. Research examining the culturally conditioned character of all aspects of knowledge has not only gained a hearing in academic journals, but has sometimes been integrated into popular textbooks from kindergarten on up.
All of this has its
limitations, of course. Overt resistance still exists, and debates remain over what constitutes
multicultural extremism. Perhaps more importantly, it would be naïve to think that the
popularization of multiculturalism has eliminated Eurocentric bias or solved the problem of the
relation between the West's intellectual modernism and its continuing history of imperial
domination.
How much
appreciation have even highly educated Westerners gained of the contributions of other cultures?
Are we aware of the degree to which our own achievements derive from other civilizations? An
assessment of our knowledge of non-Western science in particular would be important, not least
because of the tremendous success of the rational, anti-mystical, and empirical approach to
knowledge that the West integrated from about the sixteenth century.
Science writer
Dick Teresi's book is a helpful step in this regard. Its strength is its concise yet detailed summary
of scientific knowledge and practice in non-Western civilizations from the ancient and medieval
worlds. Readers who may be aware that knowledge of astronomy, mathematics, physics, geology
and chemistry in ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, China, India or the Americas reached high levels of
sophistication may yet wonder whether this knowledge was scientific: whether it was developed
according to a rational tradition of systematic study and careful generalization, was self-critical,
and valued credible information from any source above reliance on local authority. Teresi presents
a strong case that much of it was.
His purpose,
however, is more than this. He reports that the consensus among Western scholars has been, and
remains, that science originated in the West -- specifically, ancient Greece -- and that modern
science owes little to non-Western cultures. His book's title suggests not just that significant
science was done in other cultures, but that Westerners continue to deny that this science played a
central role in the development of our own.
Readers may be
familiar with the Greece-to-European-Renaissance-to-Scientific-Revolution story (with a passing
reference to the Arabs who "kept learning alive" during the Dark Ages). It is still common in
popular accounts like those of Carl Sagan or Jacob Bronowski. The layperson may reasonably
wonder, however, whether the multicultural agenda has begun to penetrate this scholarly
"consensus," and whether perceptions about science beyond academic circles have changed in
recent decades.
Teresi's
example of a January 2000 Science magazine article, in which a timeline of ninety-six
of the greatest scientific achievements in history included only two from outside the West, is
telling. The article refers to the period before classical Greece as the "Prescientific Era," in which
natural phenomena were explained "within contexts of magic, religion, and experience."1 But this and other examples Teresi cites do not
constitute a systematic analysis of contemporary thought on the matter. For a full discussion of
the endurance of Eurocentrism in the history of science, readers must look elsewhere.
In my own field
of mathematics, liberal arts students in history of mathematics classes have commonly studied the
numeration and arithmetic systems of the Babylonians, Egyptians, and Maya for about twenty
years now. Their importance in the evolution of place-value numeration systems, the introduction
of zero, and their superiority to the Greek and Roman systems is made clear, as is their role as
antecedents to our own system, developed originally in ancient India and used widely by Arab
scholars and merchants before Europeans belatedly adopted it. Is this an indication that Western
bias is breaking down? A range of scholars have recently investigated non-Western and ancient
science, as Teresi's citations show. Have they made no inroads?
Not only does
Teresi's attitude seem unnecessarily negative, but his admiration for the achievements of other
cultures leads him to reach beyond the bounds of information relevant to his case. In each chapter
he freely includes developments whose status as progenitors or anticipations of European
scientific ideas are, often by his own admission, highly questionable.
On reading his
account of his research for the book, one is tempted to perceive him as a newly-converted zealot.
Having begun as a critic of multicultural educational programs that propagated extravagant claims
(ancient Egyptians flying over the Nile in gliders, etc.), Teresi set out to write a book proving that
there is no evidence of science having been done in non-European cultures. He assembled an
advisory team of scientists and historians with a variety of attitudes towards, and backgrounds in,
multicultural studies, and wound up rejecting the "Greek origins" hypotheses.
A STORY OF THE "ancient roots of modern science" would make a nice book, quite apart from the question of the continued dominance of a Eurocentric consensus. This book does, in a sense, tell that story, though the picture is muddied by Teresi's more expansive multicultural agenda.
There is plenty
to tell, even if we restrict ourselves to discoveries whose connection to future scientific progress
is clear. Mesopotamian civilizations beginning in the third millennium BC conducted systematic
studies of celestial events, developed sophisticated mathematical procedures for describing and
predicting them, and recorded centuries of astronomical observations on their clay tablets. The
mathematical notation and knowledge they developed include contributions to arithmetic, algebra,
and trigonometry. The Vedic civilization of ancient India (1000-500 BC) used rules for
calculating geometrical quantities in the design of their sacrificial altars that led to accurate
approximations for irrational numbers, something that the Greeks, with their weak numeration
and arithmetic systems, were unable to do.
In the Classic
period of Indian civilization (beginning around 500 AD) the astronomer Aryabhata improved the
geometric model of planetary motion developed by the Alexandrian Greek Ptolemy. Long before
Kepler, Aryabhata suggested that the orbits of the planets were elliptical. He also proposed that
the earth rotates, that the moon and planets shine by reflected light, and that the earth's shadow
explains lunar eclipses. (His work was translated into Latin in the thirteenth century.)
In a clear
example of the crosscurrents of knowledge that enriched the ancient world, Indian astronomers
compiled compendia of Greek, Egyptian and Roman discoveries. They established observatories
and a school of mathematics and astronomy, developed observational instruments, and compiled
tables of information (in a characteristic versified form). Indians from the Vedic through classical
periods also made important contributions to metallurgy and industrial chemistry.
Astronomy was
one of the oldest sciences in which a high degree of sophistication was developed, because of the
close and evident connection between celestial events and human affairs. Practical-minded
Egyptians concerned with accurately predicting the annual flooding of the Nile developed a 365-
day solar calendar (complete with leap year), and their organization of the hours of darkness
according to the motion of groups of stars is the predecessor of our 24-hour clock. Ancient
Chinese astronomers, part of the imperial bureaucracy, established a tradition of recorded
observations, developed sophisticated instruments (which were among the antecedents of those
used by later Europeans), invented quantitative cartography using a grid system, and completed a
socially organized project to estimate the size of the Earth centuries before the Greek
Eratosthenes (their estimate, like his, was very roughly accurate).
An advanced,
institutionalized astronomical practice and knowledge was also characteristic of New World
civilizations. The Maya of Central America were obsessed with their intricate calendar and its
relation to celestial events. Astronomical and calendar concerns led to the development of
mathematics as a specialized discipline, and Mayan public architecture was designed in part to
allow sunlight and shadow to indicate events like the solstices. To the south, the Incas did the
same by laying out their cities and towns as a "giant cosmogram," so that the positions of
heavenly bodies over particular points defining direction from a central site would indicate
planting times and other events.
The
accomplishments of Islamic civilization in particular ought to be better known to educated
Westerners. By the tenth century, Arab scholars had produced unequaled astronomy texts,
developed a system of spherical measurement involving trigonometric functions, invented the
algebra of equations, compiled tables for timekeeping, and manufactured sophisticated astrolabes,
sundials, quadrants, and compasses. They established observatories to which caliphs attracted
"celebrity" scholars whose status then drew others.
Arab "natural
philosophers" were familiar not only with Greek scholarship but also with ancient Mesopotamian,
Indian and Chinese texts. They debated the nature of matter, time and space, and often took a
critical attitude towards Greek (Aristotelian) concepts.
Islamic scientists
set world standards in several areas. A master work on optics by Abu Ali al-Hassan ibn al-
Haytham (known as Alhazen in the West) drew from Greek thought but tested mathematical
consequences of physical hypotheses with careful experimentation and measurement. Part of an
empirical tradition not present in deductively-oriented Greek thought (and yet to emerge in
Europe), Alhazen became a leading authority. His work permeated political and communications
barriers into Europe, where it became the standard until the seventeenth century. Arab chemists
isolated important compounds and compiled books of formulas, experiments and apparatuses that
eventually reached Europeans.
Both Chinese
and Islamic scholars investigated geologic phenomena, the former beginning centuries before
Christ. The ancient Chinese classified minerals, measured the intensity of earthquakes, and
invented the magnetic compass, later (in medieval times) coming to an understanding of magnetic
declination before the Europeans. Chinese in both periods pioneered cartography and understood
(more consistently than their European counterparts) that fossils are the remains of extinct
creatures. Arabic scientists of the eleventh century determined the specific gravity of many
minerals and hypothesized a changing earth via geologic processes like sedimentation, erosion,
and earthquakes, while Christians (until the Enlightenment) held fast to the belief that Noah's
flood was the only event that changed the earth as God made it.
THE PUBLICATION DATES OF the sources Teresi cites for much of this history range across the twentieth century. If he were able to show that this body of work has not been sufficiently well received, he would have made a strong case for a project to reformulate the history of science. But instead, his book takes us down a different path. In Teresi's eyes, almost any useful knowledge system of the natural world appears as science, and any insight bearing some similarity to a later result of Western science is an antecedent.
Some of his
(implicit or explicit) arguments for expanding the notion of science beyond what the modern
tradition accepts as such are quite reasonable and would be interesting to discuss further.
Systematic study of nature, for example, has often served religious purposes and been imbued
with mystical ideas. The alchemical goal of transmuting substances to spiritually more perfect
forms (gold), beginning in both ancient Egypt and China, remained part of chemical practice until
the European Enlightenment (though some Islamic scholars rejected it). But it did not prevent the
development of a practice of careful measurement, increasingly sophisticated classification
schemes, and well-designed apparatuses.
An empirical
tradition coexisted in many cultures with prescientific ideas like the Chinese notion of ch'i
(energy flow), invoked in a purely speculative explanation of phenomena. Chinese
astronomers tried to reveal the relationships among the earth, the emperor, and heaven. Precise,
rational methodology led to the measurement of time and direction necessary for Muslims to pray
toward Mecca at the appointed hour. Astronomy, beginning as the study of the connection
between celestial events and human affairs, was linked for most of its history to astrology; in
Europe, Brahe and Kepler still cast horoscopes for a living.
Another
interesting issue is the boundary between accurate and expansive empirical and practical
knowledge, on the one hand, and science, on the other. Here too, a certain degree of generosity
towards the premodern is warranted, as is the appreciation of non-Western knowledge systems
for their own sake. But an account of all such achievements, interesting and impressive as they
may be, does not establish that they ought to be considered among the roots of modern
science.
Teresi informs
us, for example, of North American stone structures and earth mounds that may or may not have
been sun clocks, depending on interpretation; admires the astronomical and geographic
knowledge of oceanic navigators; discusses the careful categorization of soil types in East African
cultures and the extensive knowledge of herbal pharmacology among Amazonians and West
Africans. Beyond appreciating these knowledge systems on their own grounds, he often strains to
conclude that many of them prefigure Western scientific developments.
He quotes an
anthropologist to the effect that American Indians understood geological processes "as
metaphor." In a creation myth of the Shoshone of present-day Wyoming, Ocean Old Woman
carries her children into the mountains in a water jug. "One possible interpretation," says Teresi, is
that the sea has had an influence on mountains a thousand miles away. If so, this is accurate
geological knowledge, but Teresi neither discusses how the Shoshone may have come to this
conclusion nor proves that they picked up clues missed by Europeans.
Teresi's
advisors (whose comments he quotes) tell him that to interpret classical Indian astronomical texts
as espousing a heliocentric universe and universal gravitation is "a stretch," but he seems unable
to resist making a point of mentioning it anyway. In Hindu and Buddhist philosophical systems, he
finds anticipations of atomic theory, a wave concept of matter, and the vibration of molecules, in
spite of skeptical comments made to him by one of his physics advisors. A tenth-century Islamic
philosophical movement (Ikhwan al-Safa) held that a void was impossible, that matter or spirit
always fill space; Teresi points out that according to contemporary quantum mechanics particles
continually pop in and out of existence even in "empty" space, and concludes that quantum
mechanics is "very Ikhwan in spirit."
Sometimes
Teresi allows himself to comment freely without advice. Mentioning the different herbal vibrations
of energy associated with particular Yoruba deities, he says "We believe something similar today.
Every atom (or molecule) vibrates at specific frequencies" (294). His geology advisor, though,
seems as enthusiastic as Teresi when she refers to the Hawaiian notion that islands float above the
ocean floor as "an impressive early statement of the gist of the continental drift idea" (273).
IN HIS CHAPTERS ON cosmology and physics, Teresi critiques modern scientific practice itself. He begins with a comparison of creation myths from many cultures. Before describing each in detail, Teresi summarizes them in a table, perceiving in each one a similarity to a corresponding twentieth century cosmological theory. In this context he cites a 1985 work by physicist Edward Harrison arguing that we are as culturally fixated on the dominant cosmological theory -- the so-called inflationary big bang -- as any society has ever been. Harrison, at least according to Teresi, considers the universe ultimately unknowable and our scientific perception of it as only one in an ongoing list of culturally specific "masks," ways of structuring reality.
Teresi then
charges that current cosmological theory is driven only by the cultural need to structure reality
and by considerations of logical self-consistency. He quotes experimental scientists to the effect
that evidence for it is weak at best and impossible to gather at worst. A lay reader is hard pressed
to decide whether this is the case, especially since the concepts are not easily accessible.2 The ancients combined science with religion and
social constructs, Teresi remarks; "that we have done any differently is a delusion…unlike
physicist or chemists, who welcome threats to their paradigms, modern cosmologists…[defend]
their chosen model against all evidence" (191).
Cosmologists,
of course are physicists, and most would certainly argue that they seek experimental
verification as much as any scientist.3 But in
his section on physics Teresi makes similar charges, this time inveighing against "our society's,
and the media's, obsession with theory" that purportedly encourage the development of ever more
encompassing theoretical frameworks at the expense of experimental attempts to refine, verify or
dispute existing theories.
This particular
peeve has little to do with "lost discoveries" that may have rooted Western science.
Contentiousness between theorists and experimenters, implied by some of Teresi's anecdotes,
may indeed exist, though it is hard for lay readers to evaluate its meaning by reading a few short
pages. Regarding "media" bias toward the theoretical, a casual perusal of the New York
Times science pages (for example) would reveal that stories on empirical discovery (photos
from the Hubble telescope, decoding the human genome, medical research, etc.) are featured as
often as are grand ideas like string theory or the fate of the universe. Teresi would have done
better sticking to a narrower theme.
THE MOST INTERESTING ASPECT of Teresi's book is viewing the history of science as part of the broad sweep of cross-cultural development. The last chapter on technology is perhaps the most fun, reminding the reader that aspects of technical culture taken for granted over centuries originated somewhere, often in unexpected contexts. Educated readers may be aware that paper, printing, gunpowder, guns, the stirrup, the compass, and porcelain originated in China. But the Chinese are also responsible for canal lock gates, fishing reels, hot-air balloons, the umbrella, mechanical clocks, paper money, the iron plow, and many other innovations.
The earlier
Sumerians already had extensive knowledge of smelting, domestic animals, writing, canals, dykes,
wheeled vehicles, military technology, and hydrology. The Egyptian state had a Department of
Irrigation; Muslim progress in grain milling included the invention of the windmill; New World
civilizations (in addition to their impressive architecture) first vulcanized rubber, laid out cities in
grids, and (in the case of the Incas) developed a planned system of tunnels and bridges. Ancient
South Asians maintained a remarkably consistent system of weights and measures over centuries.
The bathrooms of an Indian city of 2800 BC had toilets with wooden seats draining through
standardized plumbing into a sewer system. Classical India was famous for its steel, and Indian
textiles were superior to the European until the Industrial Revolution.
Technology is
not necessarily science, and this entire chapter can be seen as peripheral to Teresi's argument. But
it should serve to ground the idea that, whatever the merits of the case regarding the cultural gaps
in contemporary history of science, we can use more good popular literature (like Teresi's, even
with its shortcomings) on the development of knowledge across cultures.
MEL BIENENFELD's "The Case against Market Socialism" appeared in NP no. 19 (Summer 1995).