October 2008

Today’s most interesting medical history news is not that Françoise Barré-Sinoussi and Luc Montagnier have been awarded half of this year’s Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for “their discovery of human immunodeficiency virus”. The interesting news is that Robert Gallo doesn’t share the prize, and that he is not even mentioned in the press release (only in the technical appendix).

In hindsight, both scientists and historians probably agree that the French group made the actual discovery of the virus which was later named HIV. Yet, Gallo and his group at NIH played a significant role both before and after the actual discovery, especially in determing the causative role of HIV for the development of AIDS. Asked about his reaction to the news, Gallo reportedly says it was “a disappointment” not to be included.

I guess it’s very much a question of what is meant by ‘discovery’ and also which discovery we are talking about. Nobel’s will emphasized ‘discoveries’ (Swedish: ‘upptäckter’), which speaks in favour of awarding Barré-Sinoussi and Montaigner alone. On the other hand, the Nobel Assembly at Karolinska Institutet could have chosen to award the establishment of HIV as a causative agent of AIDS rather than the discovery of the virus itself — in that case Gallo would probably not have been excluded (but then again Harald zur Hausen would not have been awarded for “his discovery of human papilloma viruses causing cervical cancer”, since only three people can be awarded each year).

Camilla’s post about Robert Wilson’s recent lecture at Stanford reminded me of David Pantalony’s essay in the July issue of the History of Science Society Newsletter:

Why does a control panel for a computer from 1950 attract several viewers in the architecture and design galleries of the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in New York, while similar objects rest unnoticed in storage rooms and science museums around the world?

Referring to Joshua Taylor’s Learning to Look (1981), David reminds us that we too often stop considering objects as soon as we have recognized them. Putting them in other surroundings (like the control panel in MOMA), however, makes it easier to reconsider them. Thus, the main challenge with recent technological artifacts, David points out, “is to prod researchers, the public, and students to move beyond recognition, and to stimulate alternative perspectives and inquiry”.

One way of doing this is to teach history classes about material history. David shares his experiences from teaching an artifact-based historical seminar for University of Otttawa students at the Canada Science and Technology Museum (where he works as a curator in physical sciences and medicine). He begins the artifact sessions´— which take place in the aisles of the storage facilities — by asking the students to examine the basic properties of the artifacts: “materials, colors, finish, markings, modifications and manufacturing labels”, followed by questions about their history, design, and function. Then follows more analytical questions about the identity of objects and their aesthetic qualities, etc:

The key to this exercise is a careful and wide-ranging interrogation of artifacts. The more the students examine, the more questions appear. With persistent questions, they begin to transcend the traditional narratives determined by the artifact’s name and classification. They start thinking critically about specific features and how these features represent choices and context of makers and users. Where there is choice there is culture, context, and history. Why these kinds of markings? Why this construction? Why this style of container? Why this kind of component over another? Why this kind of material?

The cultural analysis of artifacts requires students to ask about “hidden beliefs, values, associations, and meaning”. They also learn to examine artifacts from a different culture, for example, contrasting Western post-war medical technology with healing artifacts from aboriginal cultures.

Not only are David’s experiences useful for curators in sci-tech-med museums — they are also an inspiration for those of us who try to integrate university teaching with museum work. Read the whole essay here.

PS: David sends a nod to the discussions on this blog about the use of MRI scanners in exhibitions; see Søren’s post here and Hans’ post here.

On 21 February 2009, the Fitzwilliam Museum and the Yale Center for British Art in New Haven, CT, are organising a one-day graduate symposium that will explore ways in which art overlaps with science, and with a focus on material objects. Possible topics are:

• networks of artists and scientists
• artist/scientist collaborations
• art and the natural world
• the philosophical concept of the sublime
• theology, art, and science
• the influence of scientific discoveries on the arts
• artistic and scientific approaches to epistemology
• dialogues between art and science in the Enlightenment
• art, science, and education
• science museum displays
• scientific illustration
• travel accounts
• art and exploration
• amateur practice
• photography as science or art
• artistic and scientific concepts of truth

The organisers invite proposals for 25-minute papers across the arts and sciences. Abstracts of max. 300 words by October 14, 2008 to imogen.hart@yale.edu. Travel funds for speakers are available upon application. Read more here.

Kostas Arvanitis at the Centre for Museology, University of Manchester, draws attention to the proliferation of museum blogs at the Manchester Museum. More and more members of staff are creating blogs “to reflect upon their own work, offer a glimpse of what happens ‘behind the scenes’ and invite people to voice their views about all these”.

Currently Manchester Museum staffers run seven: Egypt at the Manchester Museum, Lindon Man blog, Myths about Race, Our City blog, En-quire blog, Palaeomanchester and Frog blog. More might come.

As Kostas points out these are not part of the museum’s official website, but individual blogs, hosted on different platforms. Vice versa, visitors to the official website are invited to visit the staff blogs. In Kostas’ words, they open

‘new spaces’ where the Museum takes place; online spaces that escape the ‘digital walls’ of the official website of the Museum.

Kostas’ comment relates to the question about the relation between individual blogs and institutional communication that I raised in an earlier criticism of Batts, Anthis, and Smith’s paper on bridging the gap between blogs and academia. In other words, the issue here is not ‘blogs vs. website’. It’s not a question of platform. What’s at stake is individual vs. institutional online presence.

Would be interesting to see how other museums have solved the balance. For example, the staff at the National Museum of Health and Medicine run a joint private blog (A Repository for Bottled Monsters) which, as far as I can see, isn’t acknowledged on the museum’s official website. And here at Medical Museion we are currently runnng two joint staff blogs: this one in English and Museionblog in Danish, but maybe some staff members wish to start on their own — in that case I guess we would link to these from the official website.

Our high season for visitors is week 42, when Danish school children have a week off. If the weather is bad, this is particularly good for our visitor statistics, so we are looking forward to some heavy autumn rain storms that will drive hundreds, nay thousands, of young visitors to our museum.

In week 42 we are open every day between 11am and 5pm. The 7-12 year old can attend special roundtrips in the museum at 11am to see how broken legs were treated in the “good old days”, what a dentist’s clinic looked like around the turn of the last century, etc. Our student docents will show skulls and bones and other body parts and tell somewhat uncanny stories about our bodies.

Grown-ups can attend special guided tours at 12.30, 1.30, 2.30 and 3.30pm. Take this opportunity to see Oldetopia before it closes.

(adopted from Bente’s post on our Danish blog, Museionblog)

Good news for all friends of sound artist Jacob Kirkegaard (see earlier post here), and for all fans of the Museum of Jurassic Technology (MJT) in Culver City — Jacob has just given a sold-out performance of his inner-ear sound work ‘Labyrinthitis’ in the MJT’s Tula Tea Room. Read Jacob’s impressions from the MJT here. The Athanasius Kircher connection is obvious! Not only does the MJT have a permanent exhibition about “the last Renaissance man”, he has also been a great inspiration to Jacob’s sound works. Another example of how Renaissance and early modern culture connects with contemporary concerns.

The aim of the National Pathology Week in the UK, 3-9 November is to highlight pathology’s impact on the health of the population through a range of “fun, free and exciting” events. One of the more fun- and exciting-looking ones from a medical museum point of view is ‘Autopsy: the ultimate surgical operation’, which will take place at the Hunterian Museum in London on 8 November, between noon and 2pm.

We all know what surgeons do and most of us have had an operation or know someone who has. But have you ever wondered about the last surgery many people have –– an autopsy? Is it just as it’s shown on TV or is there more to it? This is a chance for you to meet the people who perform autopsies and find out how they help doctors understand more about disease, as well as how how to treat living patients.

Sounds like a good complement to the obligatory autopsy scenes in tv crime and mystery series (when did you last see a crime series which did not contain an autopsy room scene, however short?). See the flyer here. For further information or to book a place, write to ruth.semple@rcpath.org.

A rapidly increasing number of scientists and scholars are learning about the advantages of using the blog medium for both internal and external research communication — see for example Batts, Anthis and Smith’s recent paper “Advancing science through conversations: bridging the gap between blogs and the academy” in Public Library of Science: Biology (vol. 6, Sept., e240 doi:10.1371/journal.pbio.0060240) (discussed in an earlier post here).

But it can surely be pretty demanding to keep up a quality blog. As Stanford bioinformatician Russ Altman writes under the heading “Blogs are hard!” on his excellent Building Confidence blog (about biomedical informatics, genetics, medicine, and bioengineering):

Well, maybe you all know this, but I am having a heck of a time coming up with material that is relevant and (hopefully) interesting for this blog. These difficulties are occurring despite help from my blog angel (she knows who she is) who is constantly feeding me excellent ideas. Why are blogs hard?

• Things are busy and you need to take out time to be a little reflective about stuff. That’s hard when you are just running and running all day.
• In order to opine, you need to know what you are talking about. That usually requires doing some homework.
• It is difficult to formulate ideas alone. Almost everything I do is as part of a team, and this is a much better way (generally speaking) to draw conclusions or make decisions. If I really wanted excellent blog items, I think I should work with a team to formulate good thoughts, debate them and then present them. But I’m not sure that’s part of the blog culture, which is marked by rugged individualism

OK, that’s my thoughts about why I have blog block. I will get going again soon. Blog angel has sent some great ideas, and I just need to ponder them, form opinions, and commit them to screen.

A sobering voice amidst all the exhausting enthusiasm that’s swirling around the science blogging multitude. Searched for “blog block“, and got a staggering 8,331 hits.

(thanks to Deepak for the tip about Russ Altman’s post)