The recent discovery of a manuscript has allowed historians to understand the medical routine in a hospital known as the Schneidhaus in Augsburg between the sixteenth and nineteenth century. The context of the manuscript shows that at this institution, non-academic specialists, generally members of the guild of barber-surgeons and barbers, routinely performed surgical cures of intestinal hernia, scrotal swellings, and vesical calculus. The Schneidhaus exclusively admitted patients applying for such specialised treatments and offered no other services. Such a degree of (...) specialisation within medical establishments seems to have only existed in the Holy Roman Empire at this institution founded by the Fugger family in Augsburg. We propose that the Schneidhaus was either itself a model hospital or adopted a model from another site in Europe. In this paper, we investigate the connections of the Schneidhaus to the practice of surgeons in both Italy and Spain. In Italy, a momentous new technique for identifying and removing vesical calculi was first published in 1522. Although surgical treatment was established in Italian hospitals, they tended not to specialise in such surgical treatment exclusively. Moreover, at the time of the hospital’s foundation, the Fugger shifted their economic and social focus from Venice to the Iberian Peninsula. In Spain, research in the history of medicine is complicated by outdated notions about specialised surgery, not unlike those that were recently still current regarding the Holy Roman Empire. We attempt to disprove these notions and use the exemplary textbook of one academic physician, Francisco Díaz, to approach specialized surgical practice in sixteenth-century Spain. In his work, Díaz describes the new Italian surgical method in detail and recognizes the importance of craftsman surgeons to both its development and application. However, he also argues for an expanded role for academic physicians as supervisors of craftsman surgeons’ work. All this is suggestive of a greater network of surgical professionals within which both the methods of the craft and its organisational structures were transported. As such, the Schneidhaus can be seen as a node that embodied the institutionalization of surgical practice as a European phenomenon. Further research is necessary, and we propose how this might be carried out to reveal these historical phenomena in their full complexity. (shrink)

RESUMEN A pesar de que la reducción de R. Descartes de los animales a meras máquinas puede explicarse como una consecuencia lógica de su punto de partida metafísico y gnoseológico, se puede argüir que esta reducción parece muy difícil de defender, puesto que se nos antoja contradictoria con nuestra experiencia cotidiana. Por otra parte, uno de los propósitos de la filosofía de Descartes es la “conservación de la salud”, que puede conseguirse mediante el establecimiento de una medicina “fundada en demostraciones (...) infalibles”. De cara a conseguir tal medicina el primer paso es alcanzar el conocimiento más preciso posible del cuerpo humano a fin de tener éxito en la práctica de la cirugía. De ahí que sea bastante plausible afirmar que la metafísica y la teoría del conocimiento de Descartes no serían sus principales intereses teóricos, sino solamente una explicación y justificación ingeniosas de lo que la ciencia de su tiempo llevaba haciendo no menos de cien años antes de él, así como una inteligente manera de obviar los escrúpulos cuando se anatomizaban cadáveres humanos y animales. En consecuencia, en este artículo mantendremos que el mecanicismo y dualismo cartesianos son una verdadera filosofía de la ciencia, desde el momento en que ambos estaban dedicados a explicar y justificar lo que la ciencia estaba haciendo en la práctica. ABSTRACT Despite of the fact that R. Descartes’s reduction of animals to mere machines can be explained as a logical consequence of his metaphysical and gnoseological starting point, one can argue that this reduction seems to be very difficult to defend, since it appears to be contradictory to our everyday experience. On the other hand, one of the explicitly confessed purposes of Descartes’s philosophy is the “conservation of health”, which can be achieved by establishing a medicine “founded in infallible demonstrations”. The first step in order to get such medicine is to acquire the most accurate as possible knowledge of the human body in order to be successful in practicing surgery. That is why it is fairly plausible to state that Descartes’s metaphysics and theory of knowledge were not his main theoretical concerns, but only a witty explanation and justification of what the science of his time was doing for no less than one century before him, as well as a clever manner to avoid scruples when anatomising both human corpses and animals. Consequently, in this paper we will claim that Cartesian mechanicism and dualism are actual philosophies of science, given the fact that both were devoted to explain and justify what science was in practice doing. (shrink)

I am the first to admit that my career has not followed a conventional path. But in talking to my colleagues, I am not sure that there is a conventional path to an academic career. This retrospective is both a look at how the profession has changed over the forty years since I began graduate school in the late 1970s, and a reflection on my own trajectory within that profession. Historiographical references reflect my own views and are not meant to (...) be comprehensive. I first discovered the history of science as an undergraduate history major at Connecticut College in the early 1970s. The course of physics for non-majors I took with David Fenton was based on Harvard Project Physics, which had been developed in the 1960s by two professors of science education, F. James Rutherford and Fletcher G. Watson, and the historian of science Gerald Holton. We actually wrote term papers for the class; mine was on the theory that Stonehenge was an astronomical observatory. (shrink)

I am the first to admit that my career has not followed a conventional path. But in talking to my colleagues, I am not sure that there is a conventional path to an academic career. This retrospective is both a look at how the profession has changed over the forty years since I began graduate school in the late 1970s, and a reflection on my own trajectory within that profession. Historiographical references reflect my own views and are not meant to (...) be comprehensive. I first discovered the history of science as an undergraduate history major at Connecticut College in the early 1970s. The course of physics for non-majors I took with David Fenton was based on Harvard Project Physics, which had been developed in the 1960s by two professors of science education, F. James Rutherford and Fletcher G. Watson, and the historian of science Gerald Holton. We actually wrote term papers for the class; mine was on the theory that Stonehenge was an astronomical observatory. (shrink)