Science and Circus Iulius Shreider (bio) About fifteen years ago I had become, like many students of science, beset by a strong desire to describe science as a certain cultural phenomenon. This desire was probably connected with the realization, which had occurred among the students of science, that science is not only a specific type of cognizance of reality, but also a type of social mechanism. It was tempting indeed to determine, if not the definition of science in the literal sense, then at least the features distinguishing it from other socio-cultural phenomena. But how to discern such features? In my case, the prompting came from the idea of “representators,” suggested by the Russian philosopher Mikhail Rozov—that is, I set about looking for the suitable “representator” of science among other cultural phenomena. And it occurred to me that science could be juxtaposed with circus. The idea proved fruitful: rather quickly I discerned ten features common to both science and circus. Separately, these features could pertain to other fields of culture as well; but together, they rather clearly distinguished science and circus from all the rest. In 1979 I announced the results of this juxtaposition at the Institute for the History of Science and Technology of the USSR Academy of Sciences (at the seminar of its “history of science and logic” section conducted by the late Bonifatii Mikhailovich Kedrov), and the report was met with sympathy and understanding—partly as an apt joke dismissing the somber gravity of science studies’ “great depths,” and partly as a fruitful heuristic train of thought. I undertook to write down the main points for a possible publication, but [End Page 457] science in those days was reckoned among the sacred cows, and such a frivolous juxtaposition had touched by ricochet the Marxist ideology—the most scientific ideology in the world. It was not customary to make a travesty of “scientificality.” Attempts to offer the text to various editorial boards had the sole result that not a single copy remained at the author’s disposal. Thus, this paper is a new attempt to draw an analogy between science and circus. Although some of the initially detected common features have been forgotten, some others have since been discerned. By and large, it seems that I have succeeded in retaining the main ideas of that bygone report. So let us try to consider science from the “circus viewpoint.” 1. The professionalism. Both science and circus are the “arenas” of the activities of serious professionals—an amateur who has not mastered the respective training and has not become proficient in the technique of the pursuit, will have nothing to do there. It is necessary that a scientist possess professional skill in raising scientific problems, charting the maze of specialized literature, performing experiments. A nonprofessional rope-walker would fall from the rope. Let us note, by the way, that in such spheres as fine arts, poetry, politics, and military affairs, amateurs are known to have achieved considerable success now and then; and that amateur performance/composition of music has been quite a noteworthy phe- nomenon. 2. The “Hamburg score”. Within a healthy scientific community, it is well known “who is worth what”—in terms of work accomplished, not of posts held and degrees obtained. Such internal appraisal of actors and achievements takes place in the circus medium as well. In both cases, the question is not a matter of taste, nor of evaluation within the limits of trends and schools, but rather has to do with a more or less objective ranking in accordance with the “Hamburg score.” This term was introduced by Victor Shklovsky. According to a story that may well have been of his own fabrication, circus wrestlers of former days were in the habit of getting together in Hamburg every year, in order to determine among themselves, in the absence of spectators, what place each of them would gain in actuality, not in the circus combats. Shklovsky intended to apply this notion to the evaluation of contemporary literature; it has not taken root there, though. 3. The standard of difficulty. The technical and ideational difficulty of a scientific result is estimated by the professional community...