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Author(s): D. S. L. Cardwell
Source: Proceedings of the Royal Society of London. Series A, Mathematical and
Physical Sciences , Apr. 15, 1975, Vol. 342, No. 1631, A Discussion on the Effects of the
Two World Wars on the Organization and Development of Science in the United
Kingdom (Apr. 15, 1975), pp. 447-456
Published by: Royal Society
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Proceedings of the Royal Society of London. Series A, Mathematical and Physical Sciences
BY D. S. L. CARDWELL
When the battle of Waterloo was won and lost and the fog of war finally cleared,
the peoples of Europe found themselves face to face with a unique spectacle: an
industrialized nation, Great Britain. During the Napoleonic wars the British had
completed their industrial revolution; they had built great textile mills, and had
equipped them with newly invented high-production machinery; they had even
installed lifts, which they called 'teagles '.1 They had developed great iron and coal
industries and covered the country with a network of canals for transporting
goods. The heavy machine-tool industry, vital for any developed economy, had
begun in Britain. The ubiquitous steam-engines were far more efficient, versatile
and powerful than any to be found in Europe. It was the successes of British steam-
engines, particularly the Cornish engines, that led Sadi Carnot to write his Be'-
flexions sur la puissance motrice du feu.
A hundred years after Waterloo history repeated itself, but this time with the
main details reversed. Now it was the outbreak of war that brought revelation;
and now it was Britain's turn to be surprised. For her enemy, Germany, was seen
to possess advanced industries based on scientific research and on complex tech-
nologies unknown in Britain.
There had been warning voices. Charles Babbage, Lyon Playfair, Henry
Roscoe, William Ramsay and Norman Lockyer had each, in turn, pleaded for pub-
lic and official recognition of the importance of science in national life. Lockyer
had, in 1905, founded the British Science Guild as a pressure group on behalf of
science. The admirable Devonshire Commission, 1872-5,2 put forward proposals
that, had they been implemented, would have gone far towards anticipating the
reforms and innovations that the Great War forced on the country. But they
were not implemented and the speculation is merely hypothetical.
In fact in 1914 science in Britain was still to some extent amateur in spirit,
even if the practitioners were now mostly professionals.3 Journals preferred the
expressions 'men of science' or 'scientific men' to the more professional word
'scientists'. The other side of this coin was revealed by an unofficial survey, in
1913, into the remuneration and status of scientists. Those employed by provincial
universities, were inadequately paid judged by their academic qualifications -
'less even than the church' - and had insecure tenure and inadequate pensions.4
Graduate chemists employed by the War Office were paid labourer's wages.5
Correspondingly there were far fewer science students in Britain than in Germany;
and the comparison was even more unfavourable in the case of research students.
To see what this meant let us look briefly at Manchester. Here was the largest
[ 447 ]
'We are thus authoritatively informed from his seat in Parliament, by the
Secretary of the very Board which is entrusted with the duty to look after the
commercial and industrial interests of the country, that the first qualification
of a director of a public company subsidised by the Government is that he must
know nothing of the business in which that Company proposes to engage.'
It is likely that the businessmen and the civil servants involved in the scheme
thought that German patent specifications were full and sufficient guides to
manufacture, while in practice they were usually deliberately inadequate and even
misleading. One could hardly hope to by-pass the thirty or forty years' expertise
that the Germans had built up merely by investing ?3 million, which in any case
represented only about a quarter of the capital value of the main German firms.:
The issue was undersubscribed and the scheme was withdrawn. In a new and
amended scheme the capital was reduced to ?2 million, and the Government
proposed to make ?100000 available for research spread over ten years. There
was to be a research department aided by an advisory council of scientists - but
there was still no scientific representation on the board of directors.
t Its members include G. T. Beilby, Ivon Levinstein, Raphael Meldola and W. H. Perkin,
Junior.
I Magnetos presented the same sort of problems. Small permanent magnets were not
manufactured in Britain, nor were things like hard rubber insulating material, fine enamelled
copper wire, and oiled silk or paper for insulation. These problems were all solved, for while
in 1914 Britain produced 1140 magnetos per annum, in the last month of the war she made
no less than 18000.
Chemists were the most numerous, the most vocal and the most coherent group
of scientists in the kingdom. We may assume that the affair of British Dyes
had some influence on the next developments. In March 1915 the Royal Society
and the Chemical Society submitted a memorandum to the Government on 'the
state of the chemical industry as revealed by the War'. On 6 May 1915 a deputa-
tion of the societies called on the Presidents of the Boards of Trade and of
Education (Mr Runciman and Mr Pease) to consider the memorandum. A central
committee was called for to act as a link between the Government, the universi-
ties and industry. Such a body would have been most useful in setting British Dyes
on a firm basis. The deputation was told that the Government had under con-
sideration a scheme for substantial assistance for 'scientific education and
industrial research'. A week later, Mr Pease announced in the Commons that the
Government intended to set up an Advisory Council on Industrial Research. This
was to be composed of eminent scientists and among the priority researches would
be investigations into optical glass and hard porcelain.'9 Staff would be recruited
and the Government proposed to make ?25 000 or ?30 000 available in the first year.
The subsequent White Paper (Cd 8005) indicated that a Committee of the Privy
Council would be responsible for the expenditure sanctioned by Parliament and
would be guided in its decisions by the Advisory Council of scientists. The duties
of the Council were to initiate research studentships and fellowships, to advise on
specific researches and to consider proposals for developing research institutions.
The Council was to be smaller in order to be efficient but it was expected to work
through specialized sub-committees.t Office and staff were to be provided by the
Board of Education.
The allocation of research grants was to be made at the request of learned and
professional societies. It was expected that most research would be done in the
universities and the larger technical colleges. And this may have come at a most
opportune moment for the universities, for with a catastrophic fall in student
numbers, and therefore in income from fees, they were under pressure to
economize as much as possible. The Government, after all, had closed the great
London museums; why should all the universities remain open?
The Committee of the Privy Council for Scientific and Industrial Research was
set up in July 1915. The report of its first year's activities, published in September
1916, revealed that there was a severe shortage of research workers - hardly
surprising in the circumstances - and a lack of cooperative spirit between the
major parties involved.20 There had been, they observed ruefully, far too few
science graduates just before the war to allow a substantial expansion of resear
work. They also pointed out that small firms could not afford research so some
of combination would be necessary. But, as H. A. L. Fisher remarked shortly
afterwards, '. . .we are an old country, of old and small traditional businesses'.21
t The first members were Lord Rayleigh, G. T. Beilby, W. Duddell, Bertram Hopkinson,
J. A. M'Clelland, Raphael Meldola and R. Threlfall with Sir William M'Cormick as
administrative chairman.
t At the end of the war, Levinstein's and British Dyes announced that they were going
to amalgamate, while it was learned that the German firms - Meister, Lucius; Leopold
Cas~sella; Badische Aniline; etc. had combined to make a group with a capital of 1 000 million
marks23 - a step toward the formation of I. G. Farben Industrie.
There was opposition from the humanists, but in early July 1916, it was
announced that there would be a Government Committee, headed by Sir J. J.
Thomson, on the place of natural science in education, and at the same time
a committee to study the role of modern languages. Less than a year later a
Treasury Committee's Report (20 June 1917, Cd 8657) placed science on a par
with the classics and made a paper on the principles of science compulsory for all
candidates for the Higher Civil Service. The consequential demand for science
teachers could only be beneficial. And it was hoped that the diffusion of science
among senior civil servants would obviate mistakes of the type said to have been
committed earlier in the war. Perhaps this was an early instance of the hope that
scientists and scientific method could cure the ills of the world?
The shortage of graduates with research experience had been noticed by the
Committee of the Privy Council. But already, in May 1916, W. H. Perkin, junior,
at Oxford had got approval for a Statute that research be an essential requirement
for an honours degree in chemistry. Ten months later, on 13 March 1917, Oxford
approved the establishment of the doctorate of philosophy degree. Other univer-
sities followed suit.
The Ph.D. degree had, I believe, two sources. Perkin, like many chemists, had
experienced German university education and valued the research training it had
given him. To adopt the Ph.D. degree in 1917 was therefore almost an instance
of imitation being the sincerest form of enmity. But a more direct reason seems
to have been the demand from the wider English-speaking world. The American
and Canadian universities had long accepted the Ph.D. degree; the war had brought
the English-speaking world closer together and many young Dominion and (later)
American soldiers passed through Britain. Some wished to return to Britain to
study after graduation. A Ph.D. would be an approriate recognition for post-
graduate work. A request, in such terms, from peoples to whom the British owed
so much was ultimately irresistible. In the last year of the war, Lord Balfour
proposed that representatives of British universities should visit the States to
promote the interchange of students. British Ph.D.s would be greatly valued by
our cousins and allies. The Balfour mission reached the States at the very end of
the war.
From this distance we can, I think, begin to see World War I as a historical turn-
ing point in British, and perhaps in world science. It saw the final professionaliza-
tion of science in Britain, the disappearance of the old devotees (the class to which
Darwin and Joule had belonged), the national recognition of science and scientific
education, and the setting up of appropriate state and industrial scientific institu-
tions. In a sense Britain was given a second chance - but at what a cost!
On the debit side it also saw the destruction of the old European structure of
science. Germany was ostracized. Europe was ruined, with the nations further
apart than before the war - witness the rigorous application of the passport
system. From now on Britain looked rather to America. And yet, historically
speaking, science had been a European affair, a series of debates, conjectures and
refutations if you like, conducted between Germans and Italians, Scotsmen and
Frenchmen, Austrians and Swedes, Englishmen and Germans. Something
valuable had been lost here.
And more still was lost through the appalling slaughter. Many were worried
about this, for it was the energetic, the fit, the public-spirited who went first.
From professors to schoolboys, from science masters to professional astrono-
mers and government scientists, the slaughter was quite impartial. As Nature
remarked:
What was true of Britain was also true of France, Germany, Italy and Russia.
One conclusion is I think unavoidable: the war was a disaster for science, con-
sidered as an international intellectual endeavour.
Finally it is pertinent to ask what was the standing of science after the war.
As far as I can see it must have been enhanced. Lord Cromer, one of the
humanists in the 1916 debate, believed that the Germans were barbarians because
they were notoriously scientific. But the statesmen and other civil leaders of
Germany, in fact of all nations in the war, had been educated in the traditional,
humane disciplines: law, classics, history and philosophy. The exponents of
' might is right' were historians such as Heinrich von Treitschke and von
Bernhardi, and philosophers of the school of Hegel with their doctrine that the
state is above morality. We may usefully contrast here Bernard Bosanquet's
Hegelian work, The philosophical theory of the state, (1899), with L. T. Hobhouse's
refutation, The metaphysical theory of the state, (1918). And if one argued that
evolutionary biology justified the emergent bully-boy, as indeed certain German
extremists did,27 British scientists could always point out that T. H. Huxley, had,
in his Romanes Lecture of 1893, argued powerfully that it was impossible to derive
ethical principles, or social philosophies from evolutionary biology.28 Even on the
battlefield the record of science was, with the exception of the use of poison gas,
a good one. None of the main weapons could be ascribed to recent scientific
research: even the Flammenwerfer had a history going back to the Byzantines
and their Greek Fire, while the machine-gun had been invented at the end of the
American Civil War. On the other hand sanitary and medical science had saved
the lives of countless soldiers, while the Commander-in-Chief, Sir Douglas Haig,
had publicly thanked the scientists for the skill and promptitude with which they
had produced effective gas-masks.
I infer that science may have been one of the few institutions to emerge
from the war comparatively untarnished and with enhanced prestige. Much else
was discredited: national politics, traditional forms of education, organized
religion, the economic order. Science, on the other hand, showed that men could
achieve things that were still worth while. I suggest that science was a great solace
in the 'twenties and 'thirties and this may go far to explain its popularity in those
decades.29 But this is another matter altogether.
The 'teagle', or lift, or elevator, appears to have been invented by one of the Strutt
family toward the end of the eighteenth century, and was first installed in one of their cotton-
mills. There is an account of the invention in Abraham Rees' Cyclopaedia, (1819), vol. 22,
article 'Manufacture of cotton'. See also Andrew Ure, The philosophy of manufactures
(London 1835), and R. S. Fitton & A. P. Wadsworth, The Strutts and the Arkwrights (Man-
chester University Press, 1958), p. 215. I am grateful to M. Jean Gavois for calling my
attention to the important and interesting, if undramatic, invention of the lift.
2 Report of Royal Commission on scientific instruction and the advancement of science (4 vols.,
1872-5).
3 D. S. L. Cardwell, The organisation of science in England (Heinemann, London 2nd ed.,
1972), p. 229.
4 'Sweating the Scientist', Science Progress (1913-1914), vol. 8, p. 559; and, ibid. (1914-
1915), vol. 9, p. 197.
5 Chemical News (1915), vol. 111, p. 108. A letter from Sir William Tilden, published in the
issue of 26 February 1915, called attention to the fact that the Inspectorate Department of
the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, was advertising for Temporary Assistant Chemists, of graduate
or equivalent status, at ?2. Os. 6d. per week (less 4d. p.w. insurance). The advertisement
received wide and unfavourable publicity; it also caused lasting bitterness.
6 Carl Friedrich Beyer, Herbert Schunck and Friedrich Engels were among the earlier
scientific and industrial leaders of Manchester who were either Germans or of German
extraction. But the German element was prominent in the middle ranks, as well as in the
leadership, of local industry. The trade directories confirm that, before 1914, a surprisingly
large number of smaller and specialized firms seem to have been controlled by Germans.
7 See, for example, W. M. Gardner (ed.), The Rritish coal-tar industry: its origin, development
and decline (London, 1915), which contains a selection of key papers by W. H. Perkin (senior),
Sir H. E. Roscoe, Raphael Meldola, A. G. Green and others; also J. J. Beer, 'Coal tar dye manu-
facture and the origin of the modern industrial research laboratory', Isis (1958), vol. 49, p. 123.
8 W. V. Farrar, 'Synthetic dyestuffs before Perkin', Endeavour, vol. 33 (1974), p. 149.
9 Joule had originally bought his thermometers from Paris. J. B. Dancer, in his view,
'completed the first accurate thermometers which were ever made in England'; J. R. Ash-
worth, 'List of apparatus now in Manchester which belonged to Dr J. P. Joule, F.R.S.; with
remarks on his MSS, letters, and autobiography', Memoirs of the Manchester Literary and
Philosophical Society, (1930-1), vol. 75, p. 105. For J. B. Dancer, see Manchester Memoirs,
(1964-5), vol. 107, p. 115, and (1972-3), vol. 115, p. 80.
10 Thus Sir William Ramsay considered that the best science coming from Germany ha
done by Jews, for the Germans were unoriginal; Nature (1914-1915), vol. 94, p. 137. Others
who argued that the Germans were unoriginal were Karl Pearson and Sir E. Ray Lankester;
ibid, p. 527. Although the alleged unoriginality of German scientists was a recurrent theme
during the war, it is only fair to recall that many British scientists were prepared to pay
tribute to Germany's contributions to knowledge while deploring her militarism. When Emil von
Behring died in 1917 a long and respectful obituary notice appeared in Nature (1917), vol. 99.
11 Andre Siegfried holds this view, and so does Jean Cocteau. See Andre Siegfried, The
character of peoples (Jonathan Cape, London 1952), p. 55.
12 Admiral Sir Cyprian Bridge, The Times, 29 August 1914.
13 The National Physical Laboratory began in 1902 with 26 employees; in July 1914 it
had 187. After the sharp fall at the outbreak of war, numbers recovered strongly so that by
December 1918 there were about 550, of whom about 200 were women. Many of these had
been employed on secret war work.
29 Vol. 342. A.