28 April 2023

Was the Word "Scientist" Coined to Describe Mary Somerville?

A friend sent me the following meme the other day:


Along with the request, "Fact check please."

It's nice to have friends who know you.

It's not just this meme; if you Google "mary somerville scientist," Google actually suggests you add the word "coined" and your results are filled with people making similar claims.

Not only could I fact-check it, I already had. It's a story I've seen reproduced many times in various forms. And it is a great story!

However, like many great stories, it's not really true, so I'm going to write it up here so I can just send people this way next time instead of hunting down my references again.

Mary Somerville
The word scientist was coined in 1833, if we want to be pedantic, not 1830. It wasn't coined to describe Mary Somerville specifically, but it was indeed first used in print by William Whewell in a review of her book On the Connexion of the Physical Sciences that appeared in volume 51 of The Quarterly Review in 1834.

However, as James Secord highlights, the term "scientist" only appears in the review as an indication of what Mary Somerville is not:

he did not apply the word to Somerville herself. In his view, she belonged to a more praiseworthy category. Whewell believed that in the rare circumstance when a woman wrote from deep knowledge, she could do so not with a concern for grubby industrial utility but with lucid metaphysical clarity.… If men were active, prone to confusing practice and theory, women were above the fray, giving their reasoning clarity and transparency. By those criteria, Somerville was not a scientist, but instead possessed the superior “talents of a philosopher and a writer.” (48)

If you search the actual review for the word "scientist," it only comes up once, when Whewell is going through a number of different terms you could use to describe "the students of the knowledge of the material world collectively" even when they are all working in different branches of physical science (59). "Scientist" is cited as one possible term proposed at a recent meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, though Whewell doesn't directly claim responsibility for it:

some ingenious gentleman proposed that, by analogy with artist, they might form scientist, and added that there could be no scruple in making free with this termination when we have such words as sciolist, economist, and atheistbut this was not generally palatable (59)

William Whewell
That's the only time Whewell uses "scientist" in the essay, and it is never directly applied to Somerville, though he does say that she, like the British Association, is attempting to keep the different branches of physical science unified. Slightly contra Secord, I don't think Whewell distinguishes Somerville from scientists, so much as from all men:

the man is mystified; he is involved in a cloud of words, and cannot see beyond it. He does not know whether his opinions are founded on feeling or on reasoning, on words or on things. He learns to talk of matters of speculation without clear notions; to combine one phrase with another at a venture; to deal in generalities; to guess at relations and bearings; to try to steer himself by anti theses and assumed maxims. Women never do this: what they understand, they understand clearly; what they see at all, they see in sunshine. [F]rom the peculiar mental character to which we have referred, it follows, that when women are philosophers, they are likely to be lucid ones (65)

But Somerville is not a scientist, she is a philosopher, and Whewell would have coined the word had he written this review of the Connexions or not.


One other thing you have to remember is that people in the nineteenth century actually did not like the term "scientist".... not even Whewell! It sounds like a job, you know. As opposed to the meme, had he called her a scientist, it would have been no honor. (From my own research, I have found that in fiction, the first character to actually be called a scientist wasn't until 1882, Swithin St. Cleeve the astronomer in Thomas Hardy's Two on a Tower, a full fifty years after the word was coined!)

I always liked this line from H. G. Wells's 1904 novel The Food of the Gods:

In the middle years of the nineteenth century there first became abundant in this strange world of ours a class of men, men tending for the most part to become elderly, who are called, and who are very properly called, but who dislike extremely to be called—“Scientists.” They dislike that word so much that from the columns of Nature, which was from the first their distinctive and characteristic paper, it is as carefully excluded as if it were—that other word which is the basis of all really bad language in this country.

If you search the archives of Nature, it's not quite true that the word "scientist" was literally banned (it was first used in Nature in 1872)... but I was able to find that even in 1924 it was still considered controversial, when one Norman R. Campbell wrote in to say that Nature needed to get over itself and accept it:

Moreover, the word has arrived; there is no chance of suppressing it entirely. Even if so far it were confined wholly to the illiterate—which it most certainly is notwe ought (as the authors of "The King's English" say) to "begin seriously to consider whether it has not been resisted as long as honour demands." Cumbrous circumlocutions, such as "man of science"offensive to feminists and with an artificial air no artifice can concealare wretched substitutes. The idea is definite and important; the discovery that there is something common in the intellectual attitude of all the sciences and foreign to other branches of learning is one of the greatest advances made by the thought of the last century. For a new thing (to quote the same authors) we must have a new name.

The Editor of Nature responded, admitting that "the word 'scientist' has not been used in the columns of Nature to designate a man of science or scientific worker," but calling for opinions from the experts on language (Gregory). Most respondents accepted its use, but many of those acceptances were pretty begrudging, such as that of R. W. Chambers:

Personally, I should say “man of science” rather than “scientist”; but I do not think one can deny to the word scientist its legitimate place in English. It is recorded in the “Oxford Dictionary,” together, I admit, with a good many words which a man does not use if he can help it.


Works Cited

Campbell, Norman R. "The Word 'Scientist' or Its Substitute." Nature, vol. 114, no. 2874, 29 Nov. 1924, p. 788, doi: 10.1038/114788a0.
Chambers, R. W. "The Word 'Scientist' or Its Substitute." Nature, vol. 114, no. 2875, 6 Dec. 1924, p. 824, doi: 10.1038/114824f0.
[Gregory, Richard.] Reply to "The Word 'Scientist' or Its Substitute," by Norman R. Campbell. Nature, vol. 114, no. 2874, 29 Nov. 1924, p. 788, doi: 10.1038/114788b0.
Secord, James. "Mary Somverville's Vision of Science." Physics Today, vol. 7, no. 1, Jan. 2018, pp. 46-52. Scitation, doi: 10.1063/PT.3.3817.
Wells, H. G. The Food of the Gods, and How It Came to Earth. 1904. Project Gutenberg, 26 Dec. 2020, www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/11696/pg11696-images.html.
[Whewell, William.] Review of On the Connexion of the Physical Sciences, by Mrs. Somerville. Quarterly Review, vol. 51, Mar. 1834, pp. 54-68. HathiTrust, babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015074711394&view=1up&seq=64.

26 April 2023

Catwoman: Year 2 by Doug Moench, Jim Balent, and Mark Pennington

So, this story has no direct relationship to my history of the Justice Society of America—which at forty-one installments and counting across more than three years is clearly never going to come to an end. But when researching Catwoman: Her Sister's Keeper, I discovered its existence and, well, it made sense to me to read Catwoman: Year 2 after what was "Catwoman: Year One" in all but name. So here I am with a brief break from the JSA.

This story, obviously, takes place during the early years of Batman and Catwoman. Specifically, it must fall after The Long Halloween, as Harvey Dent has become Two-Face, and it must precede Dark Victory, as Batman is not yet working with Robin. Indeed, that lines it up pretty much exactly with my placement for Batman: Year Two, which seems right. In Long Halloween, Selina briefly pops up as a socialite in Bruce's circle (if I remember correctly; it's been a long time), an identity she must have established for herself with her proceeds from theft. For her, it would also go before When in Rome, another story of her early years.

The story seems to be designed to bridge the gap between the dark, gritty Selina of stuff like Batman: Year One and Her Sister's Keeper and the more lively, flirty Selina of the Batman comics of the 1990s. One aspect of the transition is very obvious. By the end of Her Sister's Keeper, Selina was wearing a gray costume; here, inspired by a meeting with the Joker in his purple suit, she discards it and replaces it with a costume in royal purple, such as she was wearing by the 1990s. More significantly, the story wants to establish Batman and Catwoman's flirtatious relationship, where he's attracted to her, she's attracted to him, but also he thinks of her as a criminal and therefore can't let himself act on that attraction, and she does enough good things that he can overlook the bad.

from Catwoman vol. 2 #39

On the other hand, while the story is designed to bridge the approach of the 1980s Catwoman to the 1990s one, it's not actually—despite the title—a very direct follow-up to "Year One." Holly Robinson is nowhere to be seen; my understanding is that she would never appear in a Catwoman story again until the Catwoman vol. 3 ongoing in the 2000s. Where did this character so integral to Selina's early days go off to? You can of course make something up, but writing her out is the kind of thing I expected this story to do. 

More jarring if you go directly from Her Sister's Keeper to Year 2 is the fact that here Selina has no sister... It's not that Maggie isn't mentioned; Year 2 goes so far as to explicitly state that Selina was an only child! Like, the last story was called "Her Sister's Keeper," you can't just ignore that. (And if Her Sister's Keeper was considered not to "count" by 1996... then what else was "Year One" supposed to be? You can't have a "Year Two" without one!) In my last post I said Her Sister's Keeper and Year 2 together would make a good trade... and that's still true but it would make an odd read!

from Catwoman vol. 2 #40
As for the actual story, well, it's okay. Selina goes for a cat-themed jewel but Batman anticipates her; to plan her next heist, she decides to distract him by releasing Two-Face, the Joker, and the Penguin from Arkham Asylum. The story tries to establish that unlike them, Selina's not a killer... but c'mon! Releasing the Joker is about as bad as being a murderer yourself! The idea that this was somehow a forgivable act was one I just could not buy no matter how hard the story tried to sell it to me. On the other hand, Jim Balent was born to draw Catwoman (her 1990s incarnation, at least), and it was always fun and engaging to read. Aside from the continuity aspects I discussed above, I also felt like I wanted a better sense of how Selina transitioned from someone adopting a costumed identity to help herself and others (in her own way) to someone obsessed with jewelry for its own sake... but that seemed to have happened off-panel between Her Sister's Keeper and this story.

Catwoman: Year 2 originally appeared in issues #38-40 of Catwoman vol. 2 (Oct.-Dec. 1996). The story was written by Doug Moench, pencilled by Jim Balent, inked by Mark Pennington, colored by Buzz Setzer, lettered by Albert T. De Guzman, and edited by Dennis O'Neil.

This post is a supplement to an ever-expanding series about the Justice Society and Earth-Two. The next installment covers Wonder Woman: Past Imperfect. Previous installments are listed below:

24 April 2023

The Phantom Piper (From Stockbridge to Segonus: A Doctor Who Magazine Comics Marathon, Part 42)

The Phantom Piper: Collected Comic Strips from the pages of Doctor Who Magazine
by Scott Gray, Martin Geraghty, Staz Johnson, Mike Collins, et al.

Collection published: 2018
Contents originally published: 2017-18
Acquired: December 2018
Read: December 2022

The introduction of Bill to the comic strip (but, alas, not Nardole) brings a new consistent writer—our man Scott Gray of course—and with it, another ongoing story arc. It's interesting: though a number different writers have had ongoing runs since Johnny Morris, I think Gray is the only writer to have an ongoing run concurrent with tv episodes. Is this easier to do if the strip's editor is the actual writer? Probably.

The Soul Garden, from Doctor Who Magazine #512-14 (June-Aug. 2017)
story by Scott Gray, pencil art by Martin Geraghty, inks by David A Roach, colours by James Offredi, lettering by Roger Langridge 

Bill makes her debut in this story, where the Doctor reencounters Rudy Zoom (of the twelfth Doctor's own debut story) on Titan... alongside Samuel Taylor Coleridge!? This one has isn't great but it is solid: good interplay between the characters, somehow Coleridge fits right in, great surreal sequences (I often hate "dream logic" in stories, but it actually works here). I think the plant stuff lost me a bit, to be honest, but overall this one is fun.
from Doctor Who Magazine #516
The Parliament of Fear, from Doctor Who Magazine #515-17 (Sept.-Nov. 2017)
story by Scott Gray, pencil art by Staz Johnson and Mike Collins, inks by Staz Johnson and David A Roach, colours by James Offredi, lettering by Roger Langridge
It's interesting to see a writer retrod old ground with the benefit of development. Scott Gray last took the Doctor to the American West way back in Bad Blood, almost twenty years ago. This is similar in some ways, but the Doctor no longer goes around making insensitive comments about native peoples, and there's an interesting bit where it's a "celebrity historical" where the Doctor himself doesn't know the celebrity, because he's the kind of person left out of most history books. I am a bit skeptical of Doctor Who plots where I am supposed to think someone's gone "too far" in trying to not be genocided, but overall this one really works: good jokes, good characters, a serious topic well covered, great art from Staz Johnson. I don't think Bad Blood was awful or anything, but this was a nice return to old ground with good results.
from Doctor Who Magazine #518
Matildus, from Doctor Who Magazine #518 (Dec. 2017)
story & art by Scott Gray, colours by James Offredi, lettering by Roger Langridge
Not only can he write and edit... he can draw! Scott Gray makes his DWM art debut after over two decades as writer in a decent one-part story. Good capturing of and focus on Bill, and I'm always down for a return to Cornucopia (sorry Stockbridge, but it might be my favorite DWM recurring setting), but the story itself is a bit slight even for twelve pages. Great aliens, though, and a good sense of place.
from Doctor Who Magazine #523
The Phantom Piper, from Doctor Who Magazine #519-23 (Winter 2017/18–Apr. 2018)
story by Scott Gray, pencil art by Martin Geraghty, inks by David A Roach, colours by James Offredi, lettering by Roger Langridge
If The Stockbridge Showdown gave us the bright side of DWM's long history, The Phantom Piper gives us the dark. Both in the sense that Showdown revisited happy times and places, while Phantom Piper takes us to an era of conflict and despair, but also in that returning to the setting of The Child of Time, the strip struggles to maintain forward momentum. Child of Time was a complicated story, and Phantom Piper has a lot of exposition about it to communicate: about Chiyoko, about Alan Turing, about the Galateans. Plus it also needs to fill you in on the Phantom Piper itself, and I found that there were rather a lot of characters here that I struggled to keep track of. So while I'm usually glad the strip mines its own history, this attempt to do so felt like a lot of backstory and explanations more than an actual story of its own.

Part of the reason is probably that the strip, having gradually extended from eight pages to ten to twelve, abruptly drops back down to eight, leaving little room for moments of characterization. Bill in particular feels a bit pointless here. The Piper is a creepy-looking villain, and there are some neat sequences where it shows the lost war (which we saw in Apotheosis before the Doctor changed the timeline)... though its look isn't too far off the villains of The Eye of Torment. The first Scott Gray epic I struggled with, alas.
Stray Observations:

  • James Offredi, who's been coloring the strip all the way since #356 with only a few breaks here and there, becomes the first colorist to pop up in the commentaries. It's great stuff! Coloring is one of those things I never really notice as a reader, it's not in your face like writing and pencilling/inking, but it clearly has a significant effect on the reading experience, which is well-discussed here. (I am not sure I would know a fine coloring job from a great one without someone explaining it to me.) Offredi is good, and it's neat to hear from a different voice.
  • I can't remember the last time a DWM artist didn't finish out a story they started drawing, it's been so long. Was it The Stockbridge Horror way back in #70-75? Surely not! Staz Johnson illustrates part one of The Parliament of Fear himself, gets inked by David A Roach for part two, and then is replaced by Mike Collins for part three. Johnson and Collins are both good artists, but they have very different styles, though Roach's inks ease the transition.
  • There's no mention in the commentary of why we went down to eight pages, or even that it happened at all, but this is the era where the magazine as a whole lost word count and changed focus. Not even two years since the extravagant celebration of the comic, and now it feels like it's under attack.
  • "JUST A TRACER" WATCH: Oh, sure, give the colourist cover credit... but not the inker of ten strips out of twelve!

This post is the forty-second in a series about the Doctor Who Magazine comic strip and Marvel UK. The next installment covers Daleks: The Ultimate Comic Strip Collection, Volume 2. Previous installments are listed below:

  1. The Iron Legion
  2. Dragon's Claw 
  3. The Transformers Classics UK, Volume One
  4. The Tides of Time
  5. The Transformers Classics UK, Volume Two
  6. Voyager
  7. The Transformers Classics UK, Volume Three
  8. The World Shapers
  9. The Transformers Classics UK, Volume Four
  10. The Age of Chaos
  11. The Transformers Classics UK, Volume Five
  12. A Cold Day in Hell!
  13. Death's Head: Freelance Peacekeeping Agent (part 1)
  14. Nemesis of the Daleks
  15. Death's Head: Freelance Peacekeeping Agent (part 2)
  16. The Good Soldier
  17. The Incomplete Death's Head
  18. Evening's Empire
  19. The Daleks
  20. Emperor of the Daleks
  21. The Sleeze Brothers File
  22. The Age of Chaos
  23. Land of the Blind
  24. Ground Zero
  25. End Game
  26. The Glorious Dead
  27. Oblivion
  28. Transformers: Time Wars and Other Stories
  29. The Flood
  30. The Cruel Sea 
  31. The Betrothal of Sontar
  32. The Widow's Curse
  33. The Crimson Hand
  34. The Child of Time
  35. The Chains of Olympus
  36. Hunters of the Burning Stone
  37. The Blood of Azrael
  38. The Eye of Torment
  39. The Highgate Horror
  40. Doorway to Hell
  41. Daleks: The Ultimate Comic Strip Collection, Volume 1

21 April 2023

Reading The Purple Prince of Oz Aloud to My Son

The Purple Prince of Oz by Ruth Plumly Thompson, illustrated by John R. Neill

After some Oz books my son and I seemed to move through more slowly, this one we finished in just over a month. I attribute this to its clearer narrative focus—clearer in the sense it's more readily glommed onto by a four-year-old—and strong set of protagonists, especially Kabumpo.

Originally published: 1932
Acquired: February 2023
Read aloud: February–March 2023

This book is a sequel to Thompson's Kabumpo in Oz: at the end of that book, Prince Pompadore of Pumperdink married Princess Peg Amy of Sun Top Mountain. This one opens with them happily living in Pumperdink with their daughter, Princess Pajonia, and Pompa's parents, the king and queen of Pumperdink, when a young Gillikin mountain boy named Randy comes to court, and is adopted by Kabumpo, the Elegant Elephant of Oz, as his attendant. Most of the characters from Kabumpo, however, don't really factor into this, as in short order the entire Royal Family of Pumperdink is enchanted in a plot by Kettywig, the king's brother, and Faleero, the evil fairy princess of Follensby Forest. So Kabumpo and Randy set off on a quest to disenchant the Royal Family.

Kabumpo is Thompson's greatest addition to the pantheon of Oz characters, and this book shows why. The Elegant Elephant is loyal and intelligent, but also stubborn and conceited, which makes him always fun to read about, and always interesting. Like Baum's best characters, he has attributes that sometimes are the key to solving problems, and sometimes lead to problems. Randy is a bit of a generic Thompson protagonist, but he's fine enough. Together, the two of them do that typical Thompson thing of moving from weird place to weird place before they finally end up in Ev and meet Jinnicky the Red Jinn, who was a minor character in Jack Pumpkinhead, but here ends up joining them on their quest to stop Faleero. The Jinn doesn't take much seriously, which makes him a good contrast to the overly serious Kabumpo.

Like the best Oz books, we have an adventuring party of mixed personalities with a clear goal. So even though much of what the characters do along the way is pretty incidental, and there's not as much clever problem-solving as in, say, Jack Pumpkinhead, it's hard not to enjoy the ride. Both me and my son were carried through it pretty well, and had a good time. As it often is for Thompson, the ending is more down to coincidence than cleverness, but whatever.

About halfway through the book, we have an interlude in the Gillikin mountain kingdom of Regalia, where we learn their young prince is on a quest to prove himself worthy of being king. Which character could be this eponymous purple prince??? Hilariously, my son had no guesses at all in this novel with literally only one possible candidate, and by the time it was revealed, he had forgotten all about that interlude anyway. But Randy is actually Prince Randywell Handywell Brandenburg Bompadoo of Regalia, and becomes King of Regalia following his fulfillment of the quest; he'll turn up again (with more Kabumpo and Jinnicky, I think) in The Silver Princess in Oz.

As I have said before, I owned all the Baum books as a kid and a few Books of Wonder Thompsons; the rest of the Thompsons I got through interlibrary loan on 1990s dial-up thanks to my mother and the public library system of Cincinnati and Hamilton County. I don't know which ones I actually got and read, because nothing from any Thompson novel thus far has struck any kind of chord of familiarity.

But I do know I read Purple Prince, because this was the one Thompson Oz novel owned by the Cincinnati library system. This meant I couldn't ILL it... but the problem was that it was in the noncirculating collection at the downtown library, so I couldn't check it out either. (It would have been, after all, a valuable sixty-year-old book by that point.) My very indulgent family thus went on a trip to the downtown library, where I parked myself in a chair for a couple hours and read the whole book in one go! I am not sure how they entertained themselves. So I know for a fact that I read this one as a kid... but still I remembered nothing of it before cracking it open to read it to my son.

Next up in sequence: Ojo in Oz