Examining Joel Kaye’s “The Impact of Money on the Development of Fourteenth-century Scientific Thought"

In his article “The Impact of Money on the Development of Fourteenth-century Scientific Thought,” Joel Kaye examines the social context of the rise of money in the fourteenth century and its subsequent impact on scientific thought. He argues that in this new monetized world, money’s use as a technological tool for measurement lead to the new science of calculationes whose practitioners devised intricate systems to measure qualities as well as the development of latitudo formarum as an instrument of relation and representation. In order to support his argument he evaluates medieval writings, particularly those of Nicolas Oresme whom he argues provides a direct link between the rise of money and the science of calculationes.

Kaye begins by establishing the fourteenth century as the pivotal time in the monetization of Europe. He argues that the unstable economic situations of war, plague, and famine forced people to have a heightened awareness of the shifting values of money and marketable goods. During the Hundred Years War, the kings of both French and England began to recognize the fiscal requirements for warfare and increasingly worked to secure money for wars. They frequently secured money by debasing the coinage of the realm which led to sharp fluctuations in values and prices. This obliged all people who wished to avoid being on the wrong side of rising prices to pay close attention to the changing values in the marketplace. The plague also had economic influences as many came into multiple inheritances and lead to an increase in per capita wealth. This encouraged the further development of money conscientiousness on all sectors of society. Even the Church was not excluded from monetization. Due to a rise of lavish displays and papal wars in the fourteenth century, the papacy became so concerned with financial matters that they established the Apostolic Camera to manage the Church’s money. Because the Church and the government were the most frequent career destinations for university graduates, the scientific elite could not be unaware of the market place.

After establishing the social context for the monetization of Europe, Kaye begins to relate the use of money to the higher process of intangible conceptual thought. In the middle of the fourteenth century, around the same time as the rise of money, many English natural philosophers began to apply quantitative rules to solve philosophical problems. Any quality capable of an increase or decrease was considered measurable. This included things such as love, joy, pain, friendship, heat, and a vast number of others. This idea of subjective concepts given an objective value was also applied to the use of money. Rather than value being subjective to barter, commodities took on a fixed value. Wages also took the subjective concept of the worth of time and labor and applied a monetary value to it. The Church, in its attempts to raise funds began to apply values to particular sins and years in purgatory. In its sale of indulgences, the Church was measuring intangibles, such as sins and forgiveness in terms of money.

Kaye then offers the medieval treatise De moneta by Nicolas Oresme as proof of the link between monetary and scientific thought as the proof for his thesis. In his work, Oresme argues that value of money is in its function as an instrument of measurement. He believed that it was a technological advance that allowed values to “become capable of the most easy comparison.”[1] Since all goods had a value in terms of their cost, or their position on a common scale, “every saleable item is at the same time a measured item.”[2] Oresme also argued against the manipulation of money which limited its function as an instrument to determine value. Thomas Aquinas and other medieval philosophers also believed that “the instrument of money was invented in order to give a numerical statement to human need.” Oresme also was very influential in developing a system of lines to measure a variety of qualities under a common standard of measurement. Kaye then ends his paper with the observation that though the model of measurement was very prevalent, very few philosophers actually ever measured anything. This is perhaps due to the fact that measurements could only find relationships between things, and never their absolute value. Be that as it may, Oresme represents one of several fourteenth century philosophers who devised conceptual systems to measure seemingly immeasurable qualities, and who recognized the power of money to quantify human need.

Kaye’s article is an interesting analysis of the phenomenon of the monetization of Europe and the simultaneous rise of calculationes to measure philosophical concepts and qualities. However his primary piece of evidence is that Oresme wrote both on money and on measurement of other qualities in separate papers. He definitely proves that there is a correlation in the fourteenth century between money and measurement, but does not offer compelling evidence that one caused the other. If he had offered some evidence of philosophers themselves linking monetization and the rise of measurement, his article would be stronger. As he says, his conclusions “require further textual testing and research.” [3]However, his paper was an excellent introduction to medieval monetization and the science of calculationes in the fourteenth century.

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[1] Joel Kaye  “The Impact of Money on the Development of Fourteenth Century Scientific Thought” p. 258

[2] Ibid p. 260

[3] Ibid P. 264

Book Review: Secrets of Women

In her 2006 monograph Secrets of Women: Gender, Generation, and the Origins of Human Dissection[1] Katharine Park follows the studies of women’s bodies in the Renaissance and asserts that social understandings of gender played a central role in the history of medicine. Focusing on the anatomization of female bodies, particularly of the 1300–1550 Florentine aristocracy, her book explores the “linked themes of generation, holiness, and female corporeality in connection with the early history of human dissection.”[2] The dissection of the corpses of holy women confirmed their holy status, while the dissection of patrician mothers revealed “women’s secrets” and reproductive mysteries. In a series of case studies culled from anecdotes from Florentine archives, analysis of anatomical treatises, and a vast assortment of images, she successfully demonstrates that mysteries surrounding women’s bodies spurred the development of anatomical studies in pre-modern Europe.

Initially, Park investigates how the dissections of various holy women demonstrated why women were ideal subjects for determining “secrets” within a body. In 1308, Chiara of Montefalco, an ascetic and visionary was dissected post mortem by other nuns looking for proof of her holy status. Not only did they find cross-shaped tissue within her heart, they also found three gallstones which ‘represented’ the holy trinity. Margherita of Citta di Castello, another ascetic and visionary who died in 1320, was also dissected by fellow nuns who found within her heart stones impressed with holy images.[3] In both cases, the evidence found within their bodies was present at each respective canonization trial. Yet although holy women were dissected, it was generally recognized that these women were different from the broader female population. Their internal organs confirmed their outwardly saintly behaviors, which could not be observed by outsiders. Though this differs greatly from the type of knowledge sought by dissecting lay women, it set the standard for autopsying women to answer anatomical riddles.

In her second chapter, Park argues that in early Italian Renaissance, anatomical knowledge was represented in a public male form rather than a secretive female form and thus in this period the female body emerged as the model subject for dissection due to secret and hidden interior. She begins by establishing that in medieval Italy, there was a set of knowledge ranging from abortion,[4] livestock health,[5] and particularly reproductive health and care of infants,[6] which was practiced by women as went generally unknown to men. This idea of feminine secrets was perpetuated by the location of female reproductive anatomy: within the body. This contrasted male reproductive anatomy which was on the outside and therefore “easier” to understand. Therefore, after death the woman’s reproductive organs were the chief subject of study. This in turn established the purpose of dissection in general as a quest by the dissector to reveal secrets concealed within the body.

A key aspect of understanding women’s anatomical secrets was in the field of reproductive health. In this period, due to the high mortality rate of children, it was essential that women bear as many children as possible for dynastic purposes. In order to better understand generation, many patrician wives and their uteruses specifically were dissected after death in childbirth. As a result, male physicians entered the field of reproductive health and began to treat women for infertility and miscarriage. Finally, Park analyses the title page of Andreas Vesalius’ 1543 text De Humani Corporis Fabrica, drawing attention to the fact that although famous for its “musclemen” his subject is in the famous frontispiece is a woman. This is strange, she claims for work which is weakest in its understanding of female anatomy,[7] but fitting nicely in her thesis that learned men believed that the way to better anatomy was to understand the internal workings and “secrets of women.”

For many reasons, Park’s work is comparable to Mario Biagioli’s 1993 book Galileo Courtier.[8] Initially they seem to discuss vastly different topics; anatomical dissection versus the court life of Galileo within the Medici Court. However, they are very similar in many respects. Firstly, they both examine a specific cultural institution within the Early Modern/Renaissance Florentine aristocracy.  Park, through examinations of dissection, determined that cultural understandings of the female body fueled anatomical and medical practices even through Vesalius. She also implies that social practices of female dissection impacted the way Vesalius himself practiced and published his research. In contrast, Biagioli examines how the cultural practice of patronage at the Florentine Medici Court impacted the way that Galileo practiced science. Examining these texts together allows for an extremely rich picture of how unique cultural and social institutions impacted the “great men of science” in Renaissance and Early Modern Florence.

In Secrets of Women Katharine Park examines the anatomical practices in the dissection of holy women, and mothers and wives in a quest for anatomical secrets but also clues for reproduction. Though she fails to provide historiographical instances of historians dismissing gender in studies of Renaissance anatomy, she is not writing a historiographical text but a rich and unexplored cultural history. Her argument is not only an excellent introduction to the history of anatomy, but it also places to role of women in medical history as not merely observers but as active participants as subjects of study. This book is essential for readers interested in the cultural and social history of Renaissance Italy, gender history, or the history of medicine, especially when paired with similar social examinations of the Florentine aristocracy, such as Galileo, Courtier .

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[1] Park, Katharine. Secrets of Women: Gender, Generation, and the Origins of Human Dissection. New York: Zone Books, 2006.

[2] Ibid p. 35

[3] Ibid p. 67

[4] Ibid p. 84

[5] Ibid p.78

[6] Ibid p. 102

[7] Ibid p.

[8] Biagioli, Mario. Galileo, Courtier: The Practice of Science in the Culture of Absolutism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. Print

Review of Lindsay Robertson's Conquest by Law

In his 2005 monograph, Conquest by law: how the discovery of America dispossessed indigenous peoples of their lands,[1] Lindsay Robertson narrates the history of the landmark 1823 Supreme Court case of Johnson v. M’Intosh which held that private citizens could not purchase land titles from American Indians. Robertson also explores the circumstances which led to the “discovery doctrine,” the cornerstone of this legal opinion and the long lasting impact that this case had, far beyond what he believes was Chief Justice Marshall’s original intent. In this rather dense, though interesting narrative, the author uses a plethora of primary source documents, previously uninvestigated by historians and manages to produce a concise and interesting history of not only Johnson v. M’Intosh, but also the dynamics of the early American judicial process.

Robertson begins his work with four stated goals: contextualizing the legal history of Johnson v. M’Intosh, exposing the process of judicial lawmaking in the early nineteenth century, recasting the figure of John Marshall in a more human and less omnipotent guise, and encouraging a reassessment of Johnson v. M’Intosh in the light of its procedural and political history. The first three chapters of this book consist of an extremely taut narrative of how Johnson v. M’Intosh came before the Supreme Court. He starts with the Proclamation Line of 1763, an edict which prohibited non-Indians from settling west of the Appalachian Mountains and the Illinois and Wabash Land Companies’ illegal maneuvering around that law to acquire land in present day Indiana and Illinois. He then delves into a detailed account of Maryland attorney and politician Robert Goodloe Harper’s long orchestration of this Supreme Court case in order to increase his own wealth presumably through land speculation as well as the precedent set by Fletcher v. Peck which hinted that Indians did not hold title to their own lands.

Johnson v. M’Intosh set the descendents of Thomas Johnson, one of the original purchasers of land from the Illinois and Wabash Companies who had purchased it from the Piankeshaw tribe, against William M’Intosh who had purchased a similar tract of land from the US government. Harper hoped to prove that the original sale was legal, thereby granting himself, and other land speculators access to thousands of acres. Despite years of careful planning, the Supreme Court found for Johnson, deciding that while Indians were “rightful occupants of the soil…the discovery [by the Crown] gave exclusive title to those who made it.”[2] This ruling gave the vast acreage of the continental US to the government, who could purchase occupancy as needed from the native population and was used as the precedent for the Indian removal policies characteristic of the Jackson administration.

Robertson’s final three chapters attempt to explain the Johnson v. M’Intosh in their historical context as well as chart its lasting impact. He places much of the blame on mitigating political and social factors in John Marshall’s own life. First, he believed that finding for Johnson would allow Congress to fufill promises to Revolutionary War veterans who had been denied access to land in Kentucky. Additionally, the political disputes in the Early Republic had, in some instatnces threatened the security and stability of the Supreme Court. His decision, which he likely believed would have no lasting impact, was the most politically uncontroversial and helped garner support for the Court. Later, in Worchester v. Georgia, Marshall attempted to slightly reverse his position from Johnson v. M’Intosh, ruling that state governments had no rights to enforce laws on Indian lands, but after his death, this opinion was overshadowed by his “discovery doctrine.”

Robertson’s book works well in many ways. First, it is an enlightening narrative of the origins and procedures of Johnson v. M’Intosh, one of the most important Indian Laws in history. It also demonstrates the complicated birth of the modern judicial system, showing that the Supreme Court was not automatically established with the same powers and responsibilities that it is granted today. Additionally he shows how personal and political factors can impact historical acts beyond merely the facts and laws associated with the case. This book is slightly difficult for those who have little exposure to legal history. Though he helpfully provides two appendices, and writes very clearly, some of the narrative and language is tricky for those without some background in law or legal history. Additionally, as he states in the introduction, the absence of any Indian voices, though definitely a sign of their disenfranchisement, also makes this narrative somewhat incomplete. However, this is likely due to a lack of sources from this perspective. On a slightly more obscure note, running through this text are notes on Indian rights to hunt on their land, without owning the fee-title, or the rights of Europeans to take land that was not being properly utilized. [3] The assumption of a hunter-gather society in many of the Indian lands is one that has been challenged by historians, notably William Cronon, who have suggested that even Indians in New England practiced agriculture, simply not in a manner recognizable to Europeans. This issue is not really addressed in this text. Granted, it is not intended to be an environmental or social history of nineteenth century Indians but seems important if a justification for land confiscation was lack of ‘proper,’ agrarian use.

Despite, these remarks, Robertson’s text is an excellent resource for anyone interested in the Early Republic, Native American History or American legal history. It is a concise, well written and painstakingly researched book, filled with many helpful maps and images as in addition to references from vast primary source documents.

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[1] Robertson, Lindsay Gordon. 2005. Conquest by law: how the discovery of America dispossessed indigenous peoples of their lands. Oxford: Oxford University Press

[2] Ibid 76

[3] For example, on p. 107

Review of Bruno Latour's We Have Never Been Modern

In his 1991 monograph We Have Never Been Modern Bruno Latour argues that “There has never been a modern world.”[1] He begins his argument with 1989, a year which marked the rise of global environmental conferences that acknowledged how the rise of ‘modernity’ had a serious negative impact on the environment. He claims that are were three main responses to this idea: An anti modern stance that seeks to end humans’ attempted domination over the natural world, A modern response that maintains faith in modernization and “carr[ies] on as if nothing had changed” though this idea “seems hesitant, sometimes even outmoded”[2] and finally, a postmodern response which wavers between the two, skeptical of both. Latour then carefully outlines his conception of modernism. First, the purification of nonhuman nature and human culture into separate spheres, and then translation creates hybrid networks which mix the two, while still assuming that the two are separate such as the simultaneous scientific, political and economic study of the ozone. He dates the rise of modernism to the seventeenth century when Boyle and Hobbes took separate dominion over the sciences and politics and nature and culture were officially separated. This version of modernism results in a set of paradoxes: Though humans construct nature, they act as if they did not and even though they do not construct society, they act as if they do. Additionally, the human and natural spheres must stay separate and while God exists and is personal and useful, he does not interfere with nature or society. He argues that these paradoxes actually make the modernists seem invincible as they can counter any disagreement by saying that their opponent is anti-modern. Latour continues his argument by saying “no one has ever been modern” and suggests anthropologists take nonmodern view that “takes simultaneously into account the moderns’ Constitution and the populations of hybrids that that Constitutions rejects and allows to proliferate.”[3]

            In his third chapter, Latour introduces his concepts of “quasi-objects” or hybrids of nature and society that have been rapidly multiplying in the recent past, such as global warming or deforestation. However, rather than blurring the distinction between the nature and society, these hybrids crystallize the division between the two as they imply that there is a separation to begin with. Instead, he argues that people need to understand the past by recognizing that there was never a moment in the past where nature and culture were divided and no point when historical actors broke suddenly away from their past and thrust themselves into modernity. Therefore, nature and society need to be examined together and not simply be used to explain other activities. Further, he introduces his “principle of symmetry,”[4] in which he argues that the best way to examine nature and society is through “quasi-objects” or the vast networks where human and non human actors and actants interact. Finally, Latour concludes with his thoughts on what academics can learn from intellectuals of the past. From “premoderns,” we can take their hybridization of humans and nonhuman actors; from moderns we can take their propensity for long networks and experimentation, and finally from post moderns we can take an attitude of constructivism.

            Latour’s text is interesting for many reasons. Though his writing is often convoluted, he identifies a central problem in science studies: the strident separation between nature and culture. As many recent environmental and technological histories have shown, such a distinction is arbitrary and essentially artificial. Human activity cannot be separated from nonhuman activity because they are one and the same. His text recalls ideas from Raymond Williams’ 1980 article “Ideas of Nature.”[5] Williams argues that it is a fallacy to refer to Nature as a singular unchanging deity separate from humans, when not only have conceptions of ‘nature’ and what is ‘natural’ changed immensely over time, humans exist within the natural world and have great impacts on their environments. And since humans are part of nature, it is hard for us to recognize what this role is exactly or even how we fit within the environment.

            Latour’s argument is also reminiscent of C.P. Snow’s famous two cultures thesis presented in 1959.[6] In this controversial book, the British scientist and novelist argues that there is a deep cultural divide between the sciences and the humanities, originating in the Enlightenment. Though the main point of his text is to condemn the British educational system which favored the humanities over science as opposed to American and German systems that offered a more balanced approach, Snow suggests that such a divide is unnecessary and even dangerous since many of the world’s problems are in fact hybrids of issues in science and issues in the more cultural and social arenas. The obvious problem with all of texts is that by addressing the so-called divide between the natural and the sociocultural realms, they lack the language to actually discuss these networks without acknowledging a divide does in fact exist. However, the ideas discussed in Latour and William’s texts are fundamental for anyone who wishes to analyze the role that non-human actors play in history.

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[1] Latour, Bruno. 1993. We have never been modern. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press. p. 47

[2] Ibid p.9

[3] Ibid p.47

[4] Ibid p. 94

[5] Williams, Raymond. 1980. Problems in materialism and culture: selected essays. London: Verso.

[6] Snow, C. P. 1959. The two cultures and the scientific revolution. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Latour's Book at Amazon