Has there ever been a society which has died of dissent? Several have died of conformity in our lifetime.
Jacob BronowskiRead
Many theories of the ancient world seem terribly childish today, a hodge-podge of fables and false comparisons.But our theories will seem childish five-hundred years from now.Every theory is based on some analogy, and sooner or later the theory fails because the analogy turns out to be false. A theory in its day helps to solve the problems of the day.
Interpretation
Our current theories may seem flawed in the future, just as ancient theories do today.
Jacob Bronowski reflects on the nature of scientific and philosophical theories, suggesting that what we consider true and rational today may appear naive or misguided in centuries to come. He emphasizes the idea that theories are built on analogies that eventually may prove to be inaccurate, highlighting the evolving understanding of knowledge and the limitations of human reasoning in addressing the complexities of the universe.
In practice
During a scientific conference when discussing the evolution of ideas over time.
Has there ever been a society which has died of dissent? Several have died of conformity in our lifetime.
There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim it, whether they are scientists or dogmatists, open the door to tragedy.
To me the most interesting thing about man is that he is an animal who practices art and science and in every known society practices both together.
A man becomes creative, whether he is an artist or scientist, when he finds a new unity in the variety of nature. He does so by finding a likeness between things which were not thought alike before.
The values by which we are to survive are not rules for just and unjust conduct, but are those deeper illuminations in whose light justice and injustice, good and evil, means and ends are seen in fearful sharpness of outline.
The basis for poetry and scientific discovery is the ability to comprehend the unlike in the like and the like in the unlike.
There are times when even the most potent governor must wink at transgression, in order to preserve the laws inviolate for the future.
The Frenchman works until he can play. The American works until he can’t play; and then thanks the devil, his master, that he is donkey enough to die in harness. But the Englishman, as he has since become, works until he can pretend that he never worked at all.
Because I'm a woman writing about women who do bad things, that's somehow very 'other.' When men write that, it's called a novel. It's just a book.
Our country is that spot to which our heart is bound.
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our own virtues.
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