This paper explores the work of Nicolas Rashevsky, a Russian émigré theoretical physicist who developed a program in "mathematical biophysics" at the University of Chicago during the 1930s. Stressing the complexity of many biological phenomena, Rashevsky argued that the methods of theoretical physics -- namely mathematics -- were needed to "simplify" complex biological processes such as cell division and nerve conduction. A maverick of sorts, Rashevsky was a conspicuous figure in the biological community during the 1930s and early 1940s: he (...) participated in several Cold Spring Harbor symposia and received several years of funding from the Rockefeller Foundation. However, in contrast to many other physicists who moved into biology, Rashevsky's work was almost entirely theoretical, and he eventually faced resistance to his mathematical methods. Through an examination of the conceptual, institutional, and scientific context of Rashevsky's work, this paper seeks to understand some of the reasons behind this resistance. (shrink)

Recent literature on the role of pictorial representation in the life sciences has focused on the relationship between detailed representations of empirical data and more abstract, formal representations of theory. The standard argument is that in both a historical and epistemic sense, this relationship is a directional one: beginning with raw, unmediated images and moving towards diagrams that are more interpreted and more theoretically rich. Using the neural network diagrams of Warren McCulloch and Walter Pitts as a case study, I (...) argue that while in the empirical sciences, pictorial representation tends to move from data to theory, in areas of the life sciences that are predominantly theoretical, when abstraction occurs at the outset, the relationship between detail and abstraction in pictorial representations can be of a different character. (shrink)

This book examines the historical development of studies of the brain and behavior from the early work of Aristotle and Galen up to the late twentieth century. Modern neuroscience, a multidisciplinary endeavor, emerged only recently as a unified field . This book does not treat the disciplinary history of neuroscience per se but, rather, the history of attempts to understand the nervous system and its relationship to behavior from a constellation of disciplines all related to what we now call “neuroscience”: (...) anatomy, physiology, psychology, psychiatry, evolutionary theory, and anthropology.Louise H. Marshall is a neuroscientist and director of the UCLA Brain Research Institute's Neuroscience History Archives. Her coauthor, the late neuroscientist Horace W. Magoun, founded the Department of Anatomy at UCLA's Medical School in 1953. Their book grew out of a series of poster presentations put together by Magoun for several national and international neuroscience meetings during the early 1980s. Magoun wrote a twenty‐seven‐page brochure after receiving much enthusiasm from neuroscientists at these meetings—both students and those more established in the field—and many wanted a publication.Not surprisingly, given its early beginnings in poster presentations, the book is richly illustrated. The chapters are arranged only loosely chronologically; their sequence is directed more explicitly by investigative themes. The first chapter outlines three basic “postulates” that direct the organization of the rest of the book and act as conceptual threads: phylogeny , the idea of a structural and functional hierarchy in the nervous system, and the notion that function determines structure. The last chapter, by way of discussion, moves into twentieth‐century developments in the understanding of certain “integrative” systems in the brain and the recognition by neuroscientists of the need for multidisciplinary approaches that integrate anatomical, physiological, and behavioral perspectives.The third postulate, the idea that “form follows function,” receives the most emphasis in the book, and most chapters touch on the oscillating relationship between studies of form and studies of function . The book also illustrates certain historical trends: the anatomical studies of the ancient and Renaissance periods, the more physiological and clinical studies of the nineteenth century, and the instrument‐centered approaches of early twentieth‐century neurophysiology.The book has certain strengths and weaknesses related to the authors' perspective as neuroscientists. As one might expect, elements of presentism arise, as the work of some investigators is described as “anticipating” that of later scientists, and other research—for example, J. L. W. Thudichum's work on brain chemistry—is deemed “surprisingly modern” . However, the book gives wonderfully detailed, precise accounts of scientific developments related to brain and behavior. The authors demonstrate a critical mastery of both primary and secondary sources, with thorough citations, and the book comes with a comprehensive bibliography.Discoveries in the Human Brain does not place neuroscientific developments within a wider cultural or social context, but the authors had no ambitions to do so. They even point to drawbacks of such historical approaches, arguing that they “create issues where none exist and … couch ideas in such convoluted language that the events and concepts become unfamiliar and difficult to fathom” . This position reflects their intended audience: neuroscientists interested in the history of their field. While there is certainly room for professional historians of science to tackle the history of neuroscience, this book will be valuable for historians because literature in the history of neuroscience is sparse. However, it is likely to be of greater value to neuroscientists—in the authors' words, “those workers at the bench who are curious to learn how it all happened.”. (shrink)