Dead or "undead"? The curious and untidy history of Volta's concept of "contact potential".

Much of the long controversy concerning the workings of electric batteries revolved around the concept of the contact potential (especially between different types of metals), originated by Alessandro Volta in the late eighteenth century. Although Volta's original theory of batteries has been thoroughly rejected and most discussions in today's electrochemistry hardly ever mention the contact potential, the concept has made repeated comebacks through the years, and has by no means completely disappeared. In this paper, I describe four salient foci of its revivals: dry piles, thermocouples, quadrant electrometers, and vacuum phenomena. I also show how the contact potential has maintained its presence in some cogent modern scientific literature. Why has the death of the Voltaic contact potential been such an untidy affair? I suggest that this is because the concept has displayed significant meaning and utility in various experimental and theoretical contexts, but has never been successfully given a simple, unified account. Considering that situation, I also suggest that it would make sense to preserve and develop it as a multifarious concept.

Acidity: Modes of characterization and quantification.

This paper provides an account of early historical developments in the characterization and quantification of acidity, which may be considered preliminary steps leading to the measurement of acidity. In this "pre-history" of acidity measurement, emphasis is laid on the relative independence of the rich empirical knowledge about acids from theories of acidity. Many attempts were made to compare and assess the strengths of various acids, based on concrete laboratory operations. However, at least until the arrival of the pH measure, the quantification attempts failed to produce anything qualifying as a measurement scale of a recognizable type. It is doubtful whether even pH qualifies as a true measure of acidity, when the full meaning of acidity is taken into account.

The making of measurement: Editors' introduction.

This special issue consists of selected papers arising from the interdisciplinary conference "The Making of Measurement" held at the University of Cambridge on 23-24 July 2015. In this introduction, we seek ways to further productive interactions among historical, philosophical, and sociological approaches to the study of measurement without attempting to lay out a prescriptive program for a field of "measurement studies." We ask where science studies has led us, and answer: from the function to the making of measurement. We discuss whether there is anything privileged or exemplary about physical measurement, and alight upon models and metrology, two particular focuses of enquiry that emerge from our selection of papers. Those papers with a historical dimension complement an already well-developed body of historiography applied to measurement and metrology.

Who cares about the history of science?

The history of science has many functions. Historians should consider how their work contributes to various functions, going beyond a simple desire to understand the past correctly. There are both internal and external functions of the history of science in relation to science itself; I focus here on the internal, as they tend to be neglected these days. The internal functions can be divided into orthodox and complementary. The orthodox function is to assist with the understanding of the content and methods of science as it is now practised. The complementary function is to generate and improve scientific knowledge where current science itself fails to do so. Complementary functions of the history of science include the raising of critical awareness, and the recovery and extension of past scientific knowledge that has become forgotten or neglected. These complementary functions are illustrated with some concrete examples.

What History Tells Us about the Distinct Nature of Chemistry.

Attention to the history of chemistry can help us recognise the characteristics of chemistry that have helped to maintain it as a separate scientific discipline with a unique identity. Three such features are highlighted in this paper. First, chemistry has maintained a distinct type of theoretical thinking, independent from that of physics even in the era of quantum chemistry. Second, chemical research has always been shaped by its ineliminable practical relevance and usefulness. Third, the lived experience of chemistry, spanning the laboratory, the classroom and everyday life, is distinctive in its multidimensional sensuousness. Furthermore, I argue that the combination of these three features makes chemistry an exemplary science.

Pluralism versus Periodization.

There is much potential in Frans van Lunteren's schema of using certain important machines as focal points for characterizing large-scale trends in scientific development. However, there are difficulties with the periodization of history he proposes, particularly with regard to the periods focused around the balance and the steam engine; these machines were highly influential somewhat simultaneously, and their cultural resonances were not entirely distinct from each other. Van Lunteren rightly recognizes the multifacetedness of the epistemic, social, and material roles played by each machine. It would be more productive and natural to craft a historiographical framework that highlights the complex overlaps and interactions between the multifaceted roles of various iconic machines, rather than using the machines to define mutually exclusive and successive regimes of knowledge. In the end, we should also question the value of periodization as a mode of historiographical thinking: it makes for convenient but poor pedagogy.

The Chemical Revolution revisited.

I respond to the critical comments by Martin Kusch and Ursula Klein on my account of the Chemical Revolution. I comment along three different lines: descriptive, explanatory, and normative. (1) I agree with Klein that Lavoisier did not introduce drastic changes in chemical ontology, but maintain that there was methodological incommensurability in the Chemical Revolution; in response to Kusch's view, I maintain that Lavoisier's victory was slow and incomplete. (2) Admitting that there were many causes shaping the outcome of the Chemical Revolution, including the convenience of Lavoisier's theoretical scheme and various complicated social factors, I still think that the general rise of compositionism was an important factor. (3) I defend my normative pluralist view on the Chemical Revolution, denying Kusch's argument that chemists had overwhelmingly good reasons to trust Lavoisier and his allies over the phlogistonists. Overall, I agree with Kusch that it would be desirable to have a good descriptive-normative sociological account of the Chemical Revolution, but I also think that it should be an account that allows for divergence in individuals' and sub-communities' self-determination.

The myth of the boiling point.

Around 1800, many reputable scientists reported significant variations in the temperature of pure water boiling under normal atmospheric pressure. The reported variations included a difference of over 1 degree C between boiling in metallic and glass vessels (Gay-Lussac), and "superheating" up to 112 degrees C on extracting dissolved air out of water (De Luc). I have confirmed most of these observations in my own experiments, many of which are described in this paper. Water boils at the "boiling point" only under very particular circumstances. Our common-sense intuition about the fixedness of the boiling point is only sustained by our limited experience.

When water does not boil at the boiling point.

Every schoolchild learns that, under standard pressure, pure water always boils at 100 degrees C. Except that it does not. By the late 18th century, pioneering scientists had already discovered great variations in the boiling temperature of water under fixed pressure. So, why have most of us been taught that the boiling point of water is constant? And, if it is not constant, how can it be used as a 'fixed point' for the calibration of thermometers? History of science has the answers.