Many, though not all, of the “gentlemen scientists” were an intensely competitive bunch. They didn’t typically have to to scale and defend their discoveries by building large organizations, because they were producing scientific knowledge. Their interests were guided by the interests of their contemporaries, or by the pressing issues of their day, as well as their own enthusiasms.
For example, Joseph Montgolfier started building parachutes around age 35. About 7 years later:
… he was watching a fire one evening while contemplating one of the great military issues of the day—an assault on the fortress of Gibraltar, which had proved impregnable from both sea and land. Joseph mused on the possibility of an air assault using troops lifted by the same force that was lifting the embers from the fire. He believed that the smoke itself was the buoyant part and contained within it a special gas, which he called “Montgolfier Gas”, with a special property he called levity, which is why he preferred smoldering fuel.
Joseph then built a box-like chamber 1×1×1.3 m (3 ft by 3 ft (0.91 m) by 4 ft) out of very thin wood, and covered the sides and top with lightweight taffeta cloth. He crumpled and lit some paper under the bottom of the box. The contraption quickly lifted off its stand and collided with the ceiling.
Joseph recruited his brother to balloon building by writing, “Get in a supply of taffeta and of cordage, quickly, and you will see one of the most astonishing sights in the world.” The two brothers built a similar device, scaled up by three (so 27 times greater in volume). On 14 December 1782 they did their very first test flight, lighting with wool and hay, and the lifting force was so great, that they lost control of their craft. The device floated nearly two kilometers (about 1.2 mi) and was destroyed after landing by the “indiscretion” of passersby.
I think the example of the Montgolfier brothers is one in which a combination of slack-fueled hobbies, pursued openly, but with consideration for how they might make a big difference in the world, leads organically to scaling up if and when the time is right.
Darwin’s voyage on the HMS Beagle likewise had a mixture of open-ended curiosity and ambition:
He read John Herschel’s new book, Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy (1831), which described the highest aim of natural philosophy as understanding such laws through inductive reasoning based on observation, and Alexander von Humboldt’s Personal Narrative of scientific travels in 1799–1804. Inspired with “a burning zeal” to contribute, Darwin planned to visit Tenerife with some classmates after graduation to study natural history in the tropics. In preparation, he joined Adam Sedgwick’s geology course, then on 4 August travelled with him to spend a fortnight mapping strata in Wales.
After leaving Sedgwick in Wales, Darwin spent a few days with student friends at Barmouth. He returned home on 29 August to find a letter from Henslow proposing him as a suitable (if unfinished) naturalist for a self-funded supernumerary place on HMS Beagle with captain Robert FitzRoy, a position for a gentleman rather than “a mere collector”. The ship was to leave in four weeks on an expedition to chart the coastline of South America. Robert Darwin objected to his son’s planned two-year voyage, regarding it as a waste of time, but was persuaded by his brother-in-law, Josiah Wedgwood II, to agree to (and fund) his son’s participation. Darwin took care to remain in a private capacity to retain control over his collection, intending it for a major scientific institution.
Darwin couldn’t have anticipated exactly what he would discover, but it seems like he was laying the groundwork to accomplish something big with his time on Beagle, and was connecting with the major scientific and philosophical isssues of his day.
What seems crucial here is that Joseph Montgolfier and Charles Darwin weren’t hurrying to scale up the first or most obvious idea they had. They weren’t in a big hurry to “found.” Instead, it seems like they recognized a theme (flight, naturalism) where they had some interest, aptitude, and connections, and explored it in an open-ended way. They thought about the mechanics (how to float a box to the ceiling with heat or slow down your fall with a parachute, or naturalistic observations), but also what their passion might mean for the world (military adventures in Gibraltar, or natural and theological theories).
As it happened, Montgolfier and Darwin both eventually hit on an intersection between the mechanics of their discipline and the interests and issues of the time. When that happened, they did put a lot of their energy into a “founding” effort—Darwin’s book, Montgolfier’s balloon.
So if we’re thinking about “gentlemen scientists,” we’re not talking about a solitary exploration of one’s private and idiosyncratic interests. We’re talking about a passionate engagement with the issues of the day, which heavily informed what those interests were in the first place. This in combination with the natural enthusiasms and resources available to the person in question seems to have guided their path.
Many, though not all, of the “gentlemen scientists” were an intensely competitive bunch. They didn’t typically have to to scale and defend their discoveries by building large organizations, because they were producing scientific knowledge. Their interests were guided by the interests of their contemporaries, or by the pressing issues of their day, as well as their own enthusiasms.
For example, Joseph Montgolfier started building parachutes around age 35. About 7 years later:
I think the example of the Montgolfier brothers is one in which a combination of slack-fueled hobbies, pursued openly, but with consideration for how they might make a big difference in the world, leads organically to scaling up if and when the time is right.
Darwin’s voyage on the HMS Beagle likewise had a mixture of open-ended curiosity and ambition:
Darwin couldn’t have anticipated exactly what he would discover, but it seems like he was laying the groundwork to accomplish something big with his time on Beagle, and was connecting with the major scientific and philosophical isssues of his day.
What seems crucial here is that Joseph Montgolfier and Charles Darwin weren’t hurrying to scale up the first or most obvious idea they had. They weren’t in a big hurry to “found.” Instead, it seems like they recognized a theme (flight, naturalism) where they had some interest, aptitude, and connections, and explored it in an open-ended way. They thought about the mechanics (how to float a box to the ceiling with heat or slow down your fall with a parachute, or naturalistic observations), but also what their passion might mean for the world (military adventures in Gibraltar, or natural and theological theories).
As it happened, Montgolfier and Darwin both eventually hit on an intersection between the mechanics of their discipline and the interests and issues of the time. When that happened, they did put a lot of their energy into a “founding” effort—Darwin’s book, Montgolfier’s balloon.
So if we’re thinking about “gentlemen scientists,” we’re not talking about a solitary exploration of one’s private and idiosyncratic interests. We’re talking about a passionate engagement with the issues of the day, which heavily informed what those interests were in the first place. This in combination with the natural enthusiasms and resources available to the person in question seems to have guided their path.