Abstract
In the preface to the first edition of Science Teaching, Michael R. Matthews characterizes the basic state of science education as follows:
It is widely recognised that there is a crisis in Western science education. Levels of science literacy are disturbingly low. This is anomalous because science is one of the greatest achievements of human culture. It has a wonderfully interesting and complex past, it has revealed an enormous amount about ourselves and the world in which we live, it has directly and indirectly transformed the social and natural worlds, and the human and environmental problems requiring scientific understanding are pressing – yet students and teachers are deserting science. (p. xviii)
It has been two decades since Matthews wrote these words and in this, the 20th anniversary edition, he stands by them. Of the four chapters new to this second edition, at least two could be fairly categorized as directly expanding and extending his 1994 characterization: Chapter 2 on the Enlightenment and Chapter 10 on Science and Worldviews. Both of these chapters provide a kind of analytic defense of science, which seeks to focus debate by dispelling those misconceptions based on imprecise or misrepresented claims about scientific thought and history. Given the popularity and influence of the first edition, it seems likely that these new chapters will be widely read and similarly influential.
In this book, Matthews patiently details, dissects, and assesses the history and philosophy of science teaching, including the various controversies and misconceptions surrounding it today. Several caricatures of positivism – such as the assertion that the positivists were blind to the impact of culture and values on science – are helpfully refuted (Chapter 2). The various forms of constructivism are similarly clarified and, in some cases, convincingly critiqued (Chapter 8). While the above position on the nature and value of science is likely to be decried as overly ‘traditional’ in some educational circles, the strength of the arguments given in this text is difficult to deny. Even the most ardent critics of modern science (not a monolithic enterprise, Matthews points out) will find in this text a thoughtful and well-sourced account of the history and philosophy of science and science teaching.
Science Teaching is truly expansive and provides a richly detailed account of the core contributions that the history and philosophy of science have made to science teaching. It gives the reader substantive excerpts from the primary source literature and ties them together in coherent and fluid ways. Both authors of this review (one a philosopher of education and the other an undergraduate science student) found these historical passages accessible and stimulating. When we met to discuss this text, we were excited to share the quotes, stories, and references we found most interesting from the original texts. For example, we were particularly intrigued by the notion of ‘cosmic piety’ (p. xix) – a term, borrowed from Bertrand Russell, which is used to encapsulate notions of scientific rationality. Matthews notes in his preface that the inclusion of such extensive primary source references is very much a conscious choice, and it is a good one.
The book opens by situating the recent history of the field in relation to several of its key thinkers, such as Alfred North Whitehead, Israel Scheffler, and, particularly, Robert Ennis. This familiarity with the source material, and the explanations Matthews provides about each thinker, gives this book a narrative coherence many texts of this kind lack. This vision of the sweep and scope of the field is maintained quite well throughout the book, including a thoughtful summary of the recent history of curricular development in science education in Chapter 3.
The strongest example of this, however, is the sixth chapter, wherein Matthews uses the pendulum to provide a cogently woven combination of historical, philosophical, and scientific discussion. On its own, this chapter is a fascinating piece of philosophical history, and it is perhaps the most lucid example of the form of critical thought Matthews hopes science education will encourage. His discussion begins with the ‘textbook myth and prehistory of the pendulum’, as it is seen in contemporary science textbooks (p. 212). Galileo, as the story goes, realized that pendulums always make the same number of swings within a given time period (regardless of the physical distance each swing covers). Matthews tells a more complex story – beginning with Galileo’s background in medicine and engineering and following the evolution of his thinking over time. This story, while initially focusing on Galileo, quickly grows into a discussion of the pendulum as a cultural and scientific touchstone, on which is built much subsequent development of empiricism, scientific theorizing, and scientific experimentation.
In addition to playing this important role in intellectual history, the pendulum also provides a useful and concrete example of the way scientific thinkers interact with the world. Current curricula sometimes use the pendulum to discuss the concept of potential energy, but it is also useful, Matthews argues, in understanding European voyages of discovery, timekeeping, and social regulation. The conclusion to this chapter gives a sense of the breadth and scope with which the story of the pendulum (and much of this book) is written:
The pendulum case has been introduced in this chapter as an example where the HPS [history and philosophy of science] can contribute to even routine science education. It provides an opportunity to learn about science at the same time as one is learning the subject matter of science. With good HPS-informed teaching the pendulum-motion case enables students to appreciate the transition from common sense and empirical descriptions characteristic of Aristotelian science, to the abstract, idealised and mathematical descriptions characteristic of the scientific revolution. The pendulum provides a manageable, understandable and straightforward way into scientific thinking. (p. 261)
Most of this book is structured in this same way – each chapter begins with a particular philosophical or curricular problem and then moves into a detailed and thoroughly referenced analysis of the key historical and philosophical components of the given problem. By the end of each chapter, Matthews has tied the various historical and philosophical vignettes he has provided into a conclusion of contemporary relevance. In the case of the pendulum this means arguing for the expanded use of this tool in science classrooms, while in the case of the chapter on worldviews (Chapter 10) this means articulating his vision of the proper limits of liberal education in science. Some chapters, such as the chapter on the Enlightenment (Chapter 2), spend more time on historical analysis. Others, such as the chapter on Constructivism (Chapter 8), spend more time on philosophical issues. Each, however, concludes with a clear vision of the reasons a contemporary teacher or scholar should understand what has been discussed. Specialists in the philosophy and history of science education would gain much from reading this book. It would also be an excellent choice for a graduate course on science education and could make significant contributions to the thought of many practicing educators.