Adam Timmins

Thomas Kuhn’s book Black-Body Theory and the Quantum Discontinuity has come to be seen as something like the odd man out among his oeuvre. In particular, while the book has undoubtedly made a significant impact on the historiography of the discovery of the quantum, reconstructive accounts of Kuhn’s philosophy of science have generally paid little attention to Black-Body Theory. This is a lacuna I will attempt to rectify in part in this article. I will argue that Black-Body Theory raises a number of interesting questions vis-à-vis Kuhn’s philosophy of science: specifically, that although Black-Body Theory can be said to partially mesh with the picture of science set forth in Structure, there are other parts of the account of the quantum revolution that fail to gel with the model of science set out in Structure. This leads to the question, Did Kuhn unwittingly undermine his philosophical account of science with the historical work undertaken in Black-Body Theory?

Thomas Kuhn’s conception of paradigms has proved tremendously popular with the social sciences, in spite of the fact that Kuhn himself stopped using the concept by the time of his death; and the idea has come in for some fairly harsh treatment by philosophers of science. In this article I examine the historiography of the Second World War, paying specific attention to internal and external mechanisms of maintaining consensus – or lack therefore – within the field to see if anything like paradigms can be said to exist in historical writing

_ Source: _Volume 10, Issue 1, pp 98 - 115 What has come to be known as the ‘linguistic turn’ in historical theory over the past forty years or so has finished what the two World Wars began in demolishing the confidence that the historical discipline possessed at the turn of the twentieth century. This confidence was most memorably expressed by Lord Acton that one day we would possess ‘ultimate history’. Today most historians are probably more inclined to subscribe to Pieter Geyl’s view that history is ‘an argument without end’. Yet the jettisoning of a teleological goal for historical accounts does not mean that we have to also part with the idea of progress; we just need a new definition of it. In this article I argue that we should adopt an evolutionary epistemology of history which sees progress as something pushed from behind, rather than aiming at an undefined point in the future; but this is not the only advantage an evolutionary epistemology can offer us. I go on to outline two further aspects of evolutionary epistemology which may benefit historical theorists.