Being in the room together.

As historians have shown and political theorists have acknowledged: no viable collective is ever just the result of cool cost-benefit calculations. Rather, it is a shared vision of what it would mean to be part of a collective that surmounts hesitation and commands allegiance. What that collective vision should be for science already has a 350-odd-year history, and the work of the imagination is still ongoing.

Simon and the Sirens: A Commentary.

Even in its extended usage, the concept of bounded rationality bears the birthmark of its origins in economics. First and most obviously, it is about seeking the most efficient (not necessarily the best) means toward a given end, whether that is curing patients or proving theorems. Second, the means are whittled down to the most parsimonious possible, not only acknowledging cognitive limitations but actually imposing them, whether in the form of Morgan's canon, Methodist agnosticism about causes, or Entscheidungsproblem-like restrictions on the acceptable formulation of mathematical proofs. Third, these parsimonious restrictions all tend to minimize the role of reasonable deliberation in rationality, albeit in different ways. As an object of inquiry for the history of science, bounded rationality has great promise. But as a model of the history of science, as one long exercise in bounded rationality, its utility may apply more to future than past science.

History of Science and History of Philologies.

While both the sciences and the humanities, as currently defined, may be too heterogeneous to be encompassed within a unified historical framework, there is good reason to believe that the history of science and the history of philologies both have much to gain by joining forces. This collaboration has already yielded striking results in the case of the history of science and humanist learning in early modern Europe. This essay argues that first, philology and at least some of the sciences (e.g., astronomy) remained intertwined in consequential ways well into the modern period in Western cultures; and second, widening the scope of inquiry to include other philological traditions in non-Western cultures offers rich possibilities for a comparative history of learned practices. The focus on practices is key; by shifting the emphasis from what is studied to how it is studied, deep commonalities emerge among disciplines--and intellectual traditions--now classified as disparate.

The naturalistic fallacy is modern.

The naturalistic fallacy appears to be ubiquitous and irresistible. The avant-garde and the rearguard, the devout and the secular, the learned elite and the lay public all seem to want to enlist nature on their side, everywhere and always. Yet a closer look at the history of the term "naturalistic fallacy" and its associated arguments suggests that this way of understanding (and criticizing) appeals to nature's authority in human affairs is of relatively modern origin. To apply this category cross-historically masks considerable variability and naturalizes our own assumptions about the natural and the human.